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墨書 Inktalez
In a short span of time, several significant events occurred within S.H.I.E.L.D., each one enough to shock the world on its own.
The Spider-Man, who had been a headache for the New York Police Department, was recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. and was now undergoing rigorous training, often appearing bruised and battered. Occasionally, as one passed by the training room, the sounds of his anguished cries were enough to bring tears to one's eyes—two words summed it up: tragic!
Additionally, the famous playboy of America, Mr. Tony Stark, president of Stark Industries, had been attacked in Afghanistan. Whether the truth was as reported no longer mattered; those with free time were now enjoying a taxpayer-funded trip to Afghanistan, searching for the Mr. Tony who was currently being trained.
Not to be overshadowed by these two major events was another.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had opened an exclusive Chinese Cuisine Restaurant, although the owner was rather unreliable (only ten years old!). The restaurant offered only one dish (fried rice), charged exorbitant prices (ten thousand dollars per serving), and operated on a limited sales basis. Despite its numerous shortcomings (quite frustrating), the deliciousness of the owner's cooking made it all worthwhile.
Sometimes, even ignoring these flaws, one might find themselves unable to eat simply because the owner didn’t want to cook. No matter how high your status or how great your wealth, if the owner refused to serve, there was nothing anyone could do.
Chen Fan sat at the dining table, slightly tilting his head as he watched his Maid Sister savoring her food with an adorably dazed expression. Just watching her brought a sense of healing to his soul.
"Is it good?"
The question did not come from Chen Fan but from an incredibly alluring woman with a devilish figure and stunning beauty that captivated all who beheld her.
If she were to be compared to a flower, she would truly be a poppy, exuding an aura that made men's hormones surge.
Silphy remained silent, letting her actions speak for her. A delicate hand rested on her slender waist where she carried a modified version of a stun gun—an evolved product from an earlier model capable of unleashing one hundred thousand volts of electricity—a true piece of black technology.
Go! Pikachu!
This was Chen Fan's inner monologue upon learning about the stun gun; one hundred thousand volts—wasn't that Pikachu's signature move? Thankfully, this was the Marvel Universe where copyright infringement didn't exist; otherwise, they would surely face legal action.
"Natasha, why didn't you go to Afghanistan to find that playboy?" Chen Fan asked with a slight smirk at the corner of his mouth. He found it hard to muster any interest in this stunning beauty who could easily be mistaken for his grandmother given her real age.
Natasha shot him a glance filled with allure; unfortunately for Chen Fan, he wasn't swayed by such charms. He couldn't understand why this grandmotherly figure seemed so intent on teasing him when he looked only ten years old. Was Natasha perhaps into younger men or had she reached an age where she liked children? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.
"The sandstorms in Afghanistan are so fierce and the UV rays so strong. Why would a beautiful woman like me go there? Besides, so many people have already gone; I’m not needed!" Natasha pouted. Even if that playboy were to die in Afghanistan, she wouldn’t care; after all, if things fell apart, there would be someone tall enough to take charge. If that didn’t work out, would she just stand there foolishly?
Chen Fan moved his chair closer to Maid Sister’s side and inhaled the familiar fragrance wafting from her; he felt slightly relieved. Natasha had quite the fearsome reputation—after all, she was known as the Black Widow! Just ask yourself if you were afraid!
Feeling bored by Chen Fan's avoidance, Natasha pouted her rosy lips and said, "Sir, please bring me a serving of fried rice too!"
Ten green bills were laid out on the dining table, and the crowd's eyes were all drawn to them. They weren't just looking at the money; they were watching to see if Chen Fan would accept it, especially since this restaurant had a notorious reputation.
Often, people would place bets in private, wagering on how many customers Chen Fan's restaurant would host that day. Depending on the number of patrons, the stakes of the bets would rise.
"What's wrong? Can't you do it today?" Natasha asked eagerly. If it weren't for the electric stun gun separating her from Chen Fan, she would have surely pulled him into her embrace and planted a couple of kisses on his fair cheeks.
"Cooking is exhausting. Why not go to the cafeteria next door? Their meals are free!" Chen Fan rested his chin on his hand, a frown on his face. To be honest, after abandoning his dream of conquering the world with culinary skills, he had lost much of his interest in cooking.
If it weren't for wanting to occasionally change up the flavors, he would have returned this piece of land he had painstakingly rented. After all... the rent was exorbitant!
Thinking about the rent made Chen Fan grumble internally. Nick Fury, that one-eyed monster, charged him ten thousand Three Hundred Thousand US Dollars a month for rent—what a vampire! It was utterly outrageous!
Mentioning the cafeteria made Natasha scoff. "The food there may be free, but it's terrible!"
In a corner, seven or eight people huddled around a table, anxiously watching the commotion not far away. The betting had already begun; Natasha's odds of getting fried rice were 1:1, while not getting any was also 1:1. This clearly showed how well everyone understood Chen Fan; getting to taste his cooking was quite a challenge.
"Chef Kaich! Natasha, your cooking isn't good at all! What do you think?" Robo, sporting a Big Baldy look and bare arms, winked at Chef Kaich beside him.
"What do I think? What else can I think? If you're so good, why don't you give it a try? I won't stop you!" Kitch replied irritably, showing his middle finger in disdain at Big Baldy's provocation. He couldn't afford to offend anyone on either side; he would be foolish to rush in and get himself killed.
"By the way!" Someone lightly tapped the table. "Has anyone here ever tasted that guy's cooking?"
After a moment of silence, they exchanged glances; clearly, none of them had ever tried Chen Fan's dishes.
"Then who spread the word that his cooking is good?" another person posed another question, leading to more silence and shaking heads.
"Is the fried rice really that good?" Robo scratched his bald head; evidently, no one had an answer for him.
Kitch frowned as he looked toward the restaurant and shook his head. "Forget about before; they're all off sightseeing in Afghanistan now. Just based on Natasha here—would she spend ten thousand dollars on ordinary food?"
Everyone shook their heads. A woman who could easily be their mother was astute enough not to fall for anyone's tricks since joining them; they had never heard of Natasha being taken advantage of or scammed by anyone.
"Forget it; someone else just went into that restaurant!" someone spoke up, breaking the brief silence.
"Who is that person? I don't recognize them—looks like they've been beaten up. Did they fall victim to some notorious scam?"
“Mud stains,” he muttered, eyeing the bruised figure of Spider-Man. It looked like he had really been through the wringer.
Peter had been having a rough time lately. His days were consumed by training—four hours of it, with zero breaks in between. Being a superhero was no easy feat. He thought back to his naive self just half a month ago and felt tears of sorrow welling up in his eyes as he gazed at the ceiling at a 45-degree angle.
I know nothing about power! Peter lamented after yet another grueling training session.
After finishing his morning workout, Peter made his way to the cafeteria. This was his first visit to the S.H.I.E.L.D. cafeteria; previously, he had only consumed nutrient liquids and military rations packed with energy.
Regular food simply couldn't provide the energy he needed for his training. It took several sessions for his body to adapt to this new intensity, and now he could finally enjoy meals meant for normal people. What a relief!
As he entered the cafeteria, Peter was taken aback by its size.
The cafeteria spanned nearly a thousand square feet but only had seven or eight tables. Even if S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel were few in number, there were still thousands of them—who were they trying to fool with just a handful of tables?
Had he stumbled into a fake cafeteria?
With this confusion swirling in his mind, Peter stepped into the restaurant-like cafeteria and immediately spotted two familiar faces. One of them, with a particularly youthful appearance, made him feel an inexplicable surge of anger just by looking at him.
“Whoa! Who the hell are you?” Chen Fan exclaimed as he stared at the newcomer. The round face and body didn’t match at all, and with all those bruises, it looked like an abstract painting—truly terrifying!
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