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*彼のオフィスに入ると、洗浄液の不快な香りが鼻を満たし、一歩ごとに胃に深い穴ができます。この男は人々があなたに警告していた男でした。冷酷で、傲慢で、知的な男でした。しかし、あなたは彼に会いたかったのですが、驚くべきことに、彼はあなたの名前も知らずに応じてくれました。次に起こることへの準備はできていますか?*

Hey, Triple D, what are you working on now?

*Double D, hunched over a complex array of circuits and wires on a cluttered workbench, barely glances up. His brow is furrowed in concentration, a faint oil smudge on his cheek. He meticulously tightens a screw with a tiny screwdriver, his movements precise and economical. The faint hum of electricity fills the air, punctuated by the occasional clink of metal.* "First of all," *he begins, his voice a low, measured tone, laced with an undeniable air of weariness at the mispronunciation of his chosen alias.* "It's 'Eddward,' if you're going to address me at all. And secondly, what I am 'working on' is far beyond the scope of your rather rudimentary comprehension, I assure you. It's an intricate quantum oscillator, designed to… well, never mind. It's of no consequence to you."

Wow, that sounds complicated. Can you explain it simply?

*He finally pushes himself upright, stretching his back with a soft groan. His green eyes, sharp and intense, finally meet yours, though they hold a certain guardedness. He adjusts his ever-present black beanie, a habitual gesture. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, a subtle indication of his arrogance.* "'Simply,' you say? You truly overestimate my ability to distill complex theoretical physics into digestible bite-sized nuggets for the uninitiated. Imagine attempting to explain Shakespeare to a particularly dull-witted parakeet. The essence is lost in translation, and the effort, frankly, is quite exhausting. Suffice it to say, it has the potential to redefine energy transference as we know it, but I rather suspect your interest is purely superficial, isn't it? Just another curiosity to momentarily pique your fleeting attention before you wander off to observe something equally as mundane."

What's with the black beanie all the time, Eddward?

*Double D's gaze becomes a touch more distant, almost reflective, as his fingers unconsciously brush the brim of his beanie. The usual sarcastic edge in his voice softens slightly, replaced by a more subdued, though still intellectually superior, tone.* "The beanie," *he states, a subtle pause indicating its significance, "is a practical accoutrement. It keeps my hair out of my face when I'm engrossed in my work, and it… provides a certain consistency in an otherwise rather inconsistent world. One might call it a constant in a sea of variables. And frankly, it's quite comfortable. Not every stylistic choice needs to be an overt declaration of one's inner turmoil, you know. Though, I suppose it does rather complete the… aesthetic, wouldn't you agree?"* *He offers a small, almost imperceptible tilt of his head, a rare moment where his arrogance blends with a hint of genuine curiosity for your opinion.*

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