Marvel: Father of Superheroes

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*****

"Thanks, Oliver."

Mike patted the officer on the shoulder.

"No need to be so polite."

Oliver smiled, then added in a low voice, "Gwen's doing really well now. On behalf of her father, I want to thank you."

"I'm Gwen's father now. There's no need for thanks."

"No," Oliver shook his head. "I'm thanking you because you take Gwen to visit her father every year. That means a lot."

"It's the least I can do."

Mike responded with a soft smile.

"Well then, goodbye."

Oliver waved and ordered his men to take away the bald man lying on the ground.

Watching him leave, Mike couldn't help but chuckle.

What a coincidence—to run into a former colleague of Gwen's biological father.

He had originally planned to resolve the issue with his powers, but now he didn't even need to waste a card.

Back at the diner, under the admiring eyes of several customers, Mike returned to the kitchen and continued cooking the last steak. Just as he was about to call Thor to serve it, Thor walked in.

"Thanks for earlier."

Thor looked at Mike sincerely.

"Thanks?" Mike handed him the steak and said, "No need. That guy deserved a beating."

Thor took the plate, then said abruptly, "I get it now. Thank you."

Get it?

Get what?

Mike raised an eyebrow, a question mark flashing through his mind, but he simply nodded in response.

After the last wave of customers left, Mike hung the "Closed" sign on the door, then turned to Thor and asked, "Hungry? Want something to eat?"

They had been busy all the way until two o'clock and hadn't had lunch yet.

"Anything's fine—as long as there's alcohol."

Mike nodded and went back into the kitchen.

Soon, the crisp sound of chopping vegetables echoed from within.

Thor walked in and stood at the kitchen doorway, watching Mike work. As thin, uniform potato shreds appeared under Mike's blade, Thor's eyes filled with admiration.

It was just chopping vegetables—yet it looked oddly satisfying.

Most striking was the expression on Mike's face.

Calm. Focused.

Just watching him, Thor felt his own lingering anger melt away, a strange peace washing over him.

Suddenly, Mike paused his chopping and looked up. "Wanna give it a try?"

Thor snorted lightly. "That? Looks easy enough!"

He walked over confidently and took the knife from Mike.

But… what looked easy turned out to be much harder in practice.

Looking at the pile of irregular, misshapen potato chunks he'd produced, then comparing them to Mike's neatly shredded ones, Thor's face turned surprisingly red.

That was awful.

He was a god! The mighty Thor! How could his work be so inferior?

"Whoa!"

Mike glanced over and said dryly, "You trying to make French fries?"

Thor laughed brightly. "You could tell?"

A few seconds of silence passed…

Then Mike muttered, "Shameless."

Thor: "…"

"What's the big deal? It's just chopping vegetables!"

Thor waved the knife around proudly. "Give me some time, and I promise I'll be better than you."

"Heh, then you better work hard."

Mike narrowed his eyes, a mischievous glint flashing in them. "Once you master chopping, I'll teach you how to stir-fry!"

"Ha! Deal!"

Thor laughed, then paused.

Something felt… off.

Before he could think it through, his phone rang—it was the one he'd just bought with his wages three days ago.

Seeing the caller ID, he smiled happily, tossed the knife aside, and walked out of the kitchen.

After a brief conversation, Thor returned and said to Mike, "It's Jane. She's done with her work and is coming to see me."

Before leaving, Clark and the others had exchanged numbers with Jane. After Thor bought his phone, he got her number from Clark and managed to get back in touch with her.

These past few days, the two had been chatting late into the night. Mike had overheard some of it and felt like he'd just eaten three pounds of sugar and downed a whole bowl of honey…

Sickeningly sweet.

"She should be here by tonight," Thor added, then stared directly at Mike.

He didn't say anything—just stared.

Mike rubbed his temples and said, "I'm free tonight. Do whatever you want."

Thor grinned. "You said it!"

That night…

Thor didn't return that night.

The next day, he skipped work again to spend time with Jane.

On the third day, he dittoed.

By the fourth day…

They'd been together for a week before Jane, pressed by a new research project, left New York.

During that week, every time Thor ditched his shift, Mike simply closed the restaurant for the day. Only after Thor resumed his normal schedule did he reopen. A full week of closure certainly took its toll on customer traffic.

From that moment on, Mike acquired a new daily routine—teaching Thor to cook.

They opened the restaurant in the morning; in the afternoon, Mike instructed Thor in the kitchen.

As the days passed, Mike noticed something unexpected: Thor was changing.

He seemed to have fallen in love with cooking.

The serenity Thor displayed while chopping, the fervent excitement he exuded when stirring a hot pan—he entered a strange, euphoric state.

Mike still remembered Thor's words and that blissful expression:

"I love this feeling…

When I prepare ingredients, I'm in complete control. I shape them according to their own properties, then, as they mingle in the pan, they blend into a harmonious whole."

"That sensation—mastering calm, guiding anticipation, bringing elements together—it's like a person learning to govern their own emotions while accommodating others' quirks, achieving unity."

"I get it now! This is why you taught me to cook!"

When Thor spoke those calm yet excited lines, Mike could only stare.

Was that really what he'd been thinking?

Yes, exactly that! It wasn't so Mike could slack off by having Thor handle the work!

So Mike patted Thor's shoulder earnestly and said, "Keep it up."

No matter what, in the two months since Thor had started coming to the restaurant, he'd transformed—becoming far more endearing than before.

And that endearment wasn't just personality-based… it was physical, too.

Indeed, Thor the cook had grown noticeably rounder; his belly even had a slight, pleasant curve.

Mike hoped that when Thor returned to Asgard, he'd still be Odin's favorite child.

A fleeting thought crossed Mike's mind. Noticing Thor's puzzled look, Mike offered a reassuring smile and resumed teaching him today's new recipe.

…

In the dark, damp sewers, heavy breaths echoed in steady rhythm, like a relentless wind roaring through the tunnels.

Footsteps shuffled ahead, and a lone figure emerged from the shadows. He followed the sounds until he came face-to-face with the hulking creature.

"You… are Samuel Staden?" a deep, cruel voice asked, tinged with surprise.

"I am," Samuel replied.

"You've… changed. What happened to you?"

"That's not important." Samuel reached up and touched his skull, then added with a wry grin, "I quite like how I am now."

"Ha! Like it? How did you find me?"

Murderous intent laced the voice.

"That also doesn't matter," Samuel said, smiling faintly. He looked at his revulsion-stricken captor and asked, "What matters is this: do you want another fight with the Hulk—or even to kill him?"

(End of Chapter)