Ark Simulator, don't I have no physical form?

“I…I’m working.” Jessica’s voice was even lower, her head drooped slightly, her fluffy cat ears drooped, and her tail swayed nervously. “At a…security contractor company.”

Security contractor? Eyjafjalla immediately recalled the Blacksteel International members outside the "Oak" coffee shop last time—their dark gray uniforms, their efficient movements, and their swift quelling of the chaos. Could it be…?

"Is it... Blacksteel International?" Eyjafjalla asked tentatively.

Jessica looked up abruptly, her blue eyes filled with surprise: "You... how did you know?"

“Ah, I ran into some trouble at another coffee shop a few days ago, and luckily the people from Blacksteel International happened to be passing by and resolved it,” Eyjafjalla explained, still shaken by the chaos of that day. “I’m very grateful to them.”

Upon hearing that she was an ordinary citizen who had been "helped," Jessica seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, her tense shoulders relaxing slightly. However, the tension in her eyes did not completely disappear; instead, a hint of unease and...shame appeared.

“Oh, I see… Um, I wasn’t there that day…” Jessica said softly, as if she felt apologetic for her absence. “Actually, I… I just started working here recently, and I’m still… in training. Today… I sneaked out by myself, wanting to… want to experience a ‘normal’ coffee shop…” Her voice trailed off, and her face flushed slightly.

Eyjafjalla suddenly understood. No wonder Jessica was so nervous and uneasy, looking like she'd wandered into unfamiliar territory. She was a newcomer who'd secretly run away from the company (or her boss?). Looking at her, Eyjafjalla felt a mixture of amusement and pity. She remembered her own bewilderment and trepidation when she first arrived in Tremont, facing this bustling metropolis.

"It's alright, it's quiet here, perfect for resting," Eyjafjalla said with a smile, pointing to the books on her desk. "I came here to read too; I've been feeling a bit bored at home for too long. Are you... having a tough job?"

When work was mentioned, Jessica's expression became even more complicated. She bit her lip, and there seemed to be a glint of tears in her blue eyes, but she held them back.

"It's...it's okay...it's just that I'm not used to it." She said in a low voice, "The training is very strict, and the seniors are all very capable. I...I can never do well...And every time I go out on field missions, seeing so many...homeless people on the street, and there are conflicts, I feel a little..." She didn't finish her sentence, but her reluctance and confusion were clearly written on her face.

The word "homeless." It struck Eyjafjallajökull. In Cumberland, homelessness was a part of her life; she herself had once been one. After moving to Tremont, especially to middle-class neighborhoods like Oak Street, the homeless seemed fewer, but not nonexistent. In more marginalized areas, under bridges, at subway entrances, those ragged, listless figures remained an unseen scar on this glamorous city.

“Yes…” Eyjafjalla responded softly, her voice tinged with a sigh of empathy. “Columbia…it looks prosperous, but actually, there are more and more homeless people. I…I saw a lot of that back in Cumberland County.” She didn’t go into detail about her own past, but the heaviness was palpable.