Chương 42: Chapter 33 Delicious and Filling_1

Shiller may have been a bit too rash in deciding to let Peter stay.

Indeed, Spider Man is kind-hearted, brave, and resolute, but Peter also has all the typical problems of boys his age, such as having a reversed day and night routine, being addicted to games, staying up late at night, and refusing to get up in the morning.

Perhaps it's due to the spider mutation, but Peter has a gigantic appetite. He's addicted to all sorts of American burgers and fried chickens, prompting Shiller to worry that if this continues, Peter would evolve from a spider into a crab.

Shiller rapped the rim of the pot, saying, "Listen, I don't care how much energy you and Steve have burned up in your sparring sessions, but no human being, after finishing five pots of rice, should still want a huge bucket of porridge."

Setting down his bowl of rice, Peter patted his stomach, saying, "I never dreamed that I could eat so much. I suspect there's a black hole in my stomach."

Shambling in, Matt still limping from an unhealed injury, Peter quickly rose to his aid. Matt said, "The kid's going through a growth spurt, eating a bit more is only natural. But, kiddo, you've got to promise me, after eating, go and get some exercise straight away. If you don't want to become round like a ball, you better not hole up in your room playing games all day."

Picking up Pikachu, Shiller said, "I guess you're the one who's been a bad influence on Peter, whether it's eating so much in one sitting or spending all day gripping a game controller…"

Pikachu retorted in Deadpool's voice, "How can you blame me? This sticky kid is skinny like a bean sprout and he's terrible at gaming. Every time we play a fighter game, I have to let him use one hand. And ArmA, the onions you sliced this morning have better aim than him…"

Before Pikachu could finish, Peter covered his mouth. Shiller said, "There's no more rice left in the clinic, we'll have to buy some tomorrow, so for tonight's dinner, you guys are on your own."

At that, Peter gave a mournful wail. Shiller, wiping at the droplets of water on his hands, said, "Well, the lack of rice applies to both your dinner and mine."

"So, we're eating out?" Peter asked.

"Of course. And I have the perfect place in mind. It's one of the perks they offered me when I joined. I've been told that although the food there isn't exactly great, it's sure to fill you up," Shiller replied.

"Hmph," Peter snorted in disdain. "Then they're too naive. I feel like I can eat ten cows right now."

The S.H.I.E.L.D.'s International Defense Headquarters is located in New York, with an entrance inside a phone booth not far from Manhattan. But after entering the phone booth, the elevator keeps on going in every which way, and you'll have no idea where it's taking you.

Shiller, with his Gray Mist sense, vaguely recalls that they're almost at the outskirts when the elevator finally comes to a halt.

Upon stepping out of the elevator, Shiller and Peter are welcomed by Coulson. "As you can see, welcome to the S.H.I.E.L.D. International Reception Center," he says. "This facility specially caters to various external S.H.I.E.L.D. members and also provides a resting place for elite field agents."

Glancing at his watch, Shiller says, "I trust that you'll fulfill the perks mentioned in the contract when I joined?"

"Yes, the cafeteria is always free for staff members, as is the coffee. But I'm afraid the concentration here might not live up to your standards. If you have high requirements for your coffee, I can submit a report to the higher-ups," Coulson says with a grin.

"No, there's no need for that," Shiller responds, waving his hand dismissively. "I have little expectations for the coffee taste of someone who enjoys watered-down coffee."

Coulson leads Shiller and Peter across the main hall and through the living area. The décor here isn't overly sci-fi and draws more from the minimalist style of Northern Europe, with plenty of fabric furnishing that brings a certain degree of coziness.

Scanning the surroundings, Peter shows a hint of disappointment. "I thought you guys would be working in a place that looks like an alien spacecraft," he says.

"Um... The International Defense Headquarters and some research headquarters do look like that, but this is just a reception center, a place for field agents to dine and rest. Do you think staying in an alien spaceship 24/7 is a good idea?"

Although Peter doesn't respond, it's clear that this place hardly matches his expectations of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Coulson, being a perceptive man, teases, "If you officially join S.H.I.E.L.D., you'll have the chance to visit the head office, and it will surely take your breath away."

Before Peter can ask a question, they arrive at the cafeteria. The sci-fi vibe is strong here because, instead of cooks, rows upon rows of food are placed on conveyor belts, being brought out from different windows.

"Buffet-style?" Shiller enquires.

"Most agents do not have the luxury of time to wait for a chef to cook their meals, so this place is entirely self-service. But don't worry, you can find cuisines from all over the world here, and they're typically decent," Coulson explains.

"That suits me just fine," says Shiller.

Patting his stomach, Peter looks ready to pounce. Clapping him on the shoulder, Shiller says, "Alright, Peter, time to make them regret ever offering me this perk."

Coulson chuckles, "S.H.I.E.L.D. certainly isn't so destitute as to starve our agents. Go ahead, kid. There's no way you can out-eat this assembly line."

Shiller smiles slightly.

Three hours later, Natasha comes storming in through the entrance, phone to her ear. "Don't you know that I'm on a mission to tail Stark? ... And what nonsense are you talking? When did S.H.I.E.L.D. ever change its contracts? What treaty can we not provide for? You want me to rush back there now and fix this?!" She fumes into the phone while striding into the cafeteria.

"Coulson! Damn it, you better give me a proper reason for disrupting my work or I swear to God, I will file a complaint with the director..." she threatens as she flings open the door.

Her words die abruptly when she spots the pile of dishes, piled into a mountain, smack dab in the middle of the cafeteria.

Not an exaggeration, but a fact. The ring-shaped cafeteria is spacious, spanning thousands of square feet, but the center is blocked off entirely, thanks to the massive stack of dishes that reach all the way to the ceiling, creating a pyramid of epic proportions.

This pile of plates was at least as tall as three people stacked, and dozens of people wouldn't be able to embrace it even if they tried. Judging by the situation on the field, it seemed like they hadn't finished eating yet.

Natasha stepped over a heap of food remains and patted a smoking delivery robot. She remarked in shock, "What on earth happened here? Has Nick Fury finally decided to raise a dinosaur at S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Coulson leaned weakly against a bar, saying, "The clause about employee meal benefits in the contract really needs to be revised..."

Natasha glanced up and down at the pile of plates, saying, "I remember this clause, but employees are not allowed to bring outsiders, right? How many people did he bring? A whole squadron?"

Coulson pointed, and Natasha maneuvered past the pile of plates only to discover that there were just three figures—two large and one small.

Peter was already defeated, dozing off in his chair. Pikachu seemed a little dispirited too but was still tossing plates onto the top of the plate mountain one after another.

Only Shiller, who was made of mist, wasn't worried about the massive amount of food. Or more accurately, he was just storing the food in his mist, not really eating but just decomposing it.

To put it simply, he came here to stock up.

Of course, the Gray Mist was enjoying this. For desserts that had chocolate, syrups, or pickled fruits, Shiller had eaten at least a few tens of kilograms. Shiller even let the Gray Mist have a tiny sip of Fear Toxin Concentrate. Right now, the Mist was happily humming some devilishly enchanting song it picked up from a TV show inside Shiller's mind.

Natasha blinked, momentarily speechless.

"Hey, is the cafeteria still open for business? I just came back from a run. Do we have basil beef for tonight..."

Captain America got stuck mid-sentence as he opened the door. He gasped, "I knew it! Nick told me decades ago that he wanted to raise an elephant. But I didn't realize he planned to make this dream come true now..."

Coulson didn't say a word, covering his face and raising his arm, Captain America also walked past the pile of plates to see the three figures gorging themselves.

"Er..." Captain America touched his lips, hesitated, then looked toward Natasha: "Don't tell me, they've eaten all the food in the cafeteria."

Natasha forced out a fake smile, banged on the top of the delivery robot next to her. A panel popped out.

After reading it, she said, "Great, now we can decide which restaurant in New York we're going to have dinner at. And we might as well think about where we'll have breakfast and lunch tomorrow."

Shiller casually stood up and said, "Thank you for the treat. The employee benefits here are indeed not bad; it's a pity my time is limited today. After all, I still have a friend who is starving. I need to take some food back for him, so I'll end my lunch here."

Natasha stopped him before he left and said, "Even though S.H.I.E.L.D. could afford the cost for these foods, you guys must give us some time to replenish our stock. Other agents won't have anything to eat during this resupply period. Can you bear to starve your colleagues?"

Steve said, "Can't you tell? Of course, he can endure it. He can even bear to let his friends starve. I was thinking about having a big steak, but now it looks like I can't even get a French fry."

Shiller snapped his fingers. Pikachu put down the last piece of beef patty, jumped onto Shiller's shoulder. Shiller smiled and said, "I have a good place to recommend to you guys. It's another benefit from my other job. Although the food there isn't that good, it's definitely enough to fill you up."

Both Natasha and Steve narrowed their eyes.

Five hours later, Stark stared at the mountain of plates in the middle of his employee cafeteria. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

Jarvis was the one who spoke, "I assume you don't want to hear the detailed loss of food now. But I must say, if we don't get new food supplies before 10 o'clock, all company staff will have to starve tomorrow."

Stark took a deep breath. He could already imagine how Pepper would react when faced with a pile of employee complaints and venting her anger at him.

He was wearing his battle armor, clanging past the pile of plates. He then looked at a few people who were lying on chairs and rumbling their stomachs, saying, "Good, you guys have caused the first food crisis in Stark Industries for the past century. If Pepper gets mad at me tomorrow, I will definitely punch each of you."

Shiller said, "Don't worry, we will just go and buy more."

"It's almost 9 o'clock now. Where do you expect the purchase team to buy stuff? Also, all our transportation vehicles have already stopped. How would we transport it even if we managed to buy?"

"Please! A Captain America, two super agents, a Spider Man, and an Iron Man. Are you guys unable to transport food now?"

Two hours later, everyone was flying back loaded with packages.

Stark never dreamt that the Superhero Squad's first mission would be going to the nearest supermarket to buy a bunch of groceries and then flying back with countless bags.

Stark swore while flying, "Damn it! I definitely don't want my fans to see Iron Man in this embarrassing state. Please! Am I a nanny robot or a housewife's rice cooker?"

The moment he finished speaking, a flash of light shone.

The next day, the front-page headline of The New York Times was Iron Man, who was covered in several large shopping bags, and two figures leaping between skyscrapers behind him also covered with family-size packs of various foods.

As for Pepper, she yelled at Stark on top of Stark Tower, "You absolute busybody!! The high-gluten flour you bought has made all the bread and cakes in the employee meals as hard as rubber bands!!!"

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