Ah. Them again. Now he has a businesslike flat satchel hanging off his... shoulder area... to go with the golden watch plucked out of a piece of cake. Plenty of room for anything useful, if there is anything, and also a way to distinguish himself from the other himself.

He pauses, holding up a finger (one moment), and takes out the chalkboard, writing away. It's rather rushed handwriting. Holding it up:

'Functionally immortal. No pain felt. It has been tested. In no danger.'