Marvel and Beyond

Max left the mansion soon after his conversation with Leo. After informing Martha, he grabbed his car keys and drove away.

While on the way to Cell Labs, he hummed quietly as he mulled over his next moves, only to suddenly realize he had left without grabbing anything for breakfast.

Although in his past life he often had to disregard meals for work, sometimes eating just once a day was something to celebrate; this time around, he had vowed to never allow such a situation.

 In this life, he wasn't a salary-dependent survivor anymore but the boss of himself. His current body, too, wasn't accustomed to the harsh lifestyle of a corporate slave but was instead a fit and dashing, lean physique his predecessor had diligently nourished.

 If Max corrupted it with his not-so-good habits, he would be the one crying helplessly.

It was a blessing to have such a body, after all even more so when you could have it without months of grueling workouts.

He swung the steering wheel gently, deciding to look for a café—at least a coffee would suffice for now. His eyes darted across the streets, scanning for a decent venue.

He vaguely remembered that the neighbourhood around Cell Labs had a few seemingly respectable dining restaurants from his last visit, but he vehemently denied the idea of lingering in those parts more than necessary. 

Harlem might not be Hell's Kitchen, but to a new arrival who had heard much about American "freedom" in his past life and especially now, being in the Marvel world he considered it a place where some criminal gang might be lurking for future heroes to beat down.

He exhaled as such thoughts swirled in his head, and with them came an understanding of Cell Labs' situation. He needed to relocate the lab from that neighborhood to somewhere more secure and fast. 

He sighed again, mentally calculating when KTech would leave the Sky Tower, freeing up five floors for his use.

Those five floors should be enough for now, at least until his company expanded further into various fields and more vacancies opened. 

Eventually, he would need even more space. Maybe it was time to start planning for that in advance.

As he monologued internally, Max noticed that he had entered another part of the city, one that felt new even to him, as neither he nor his body's previous owner had ever sauntered this way before.

 He glanced around, finding the streets noticeably calmer, not buzzing with the morning rush, though the surrounding shops and buildings looked decently maintained.

Instinctively, he slowed down, letting the car cruise as he took in the neighborhood's feel. The few people walking along the sidewalk appeared to be heading toward nearby shops, smaller cafés, or diners. 

Few, if any, looked like they were rushing to work.

"This area doesn't seem to house any corporate buildings, or I'd have seen more people in suits hurrying about," Max concluded. "Maybe this street serves as a market hub for the nearby residential areas."

Just as he was about to drive on, his eyes caught sight of a small café. An elderly woman inside was moving furniture around, shifting tables and chairs into place for the day's customers.

Since Max was already craving a coffee and had judged the area as not too shady, he decided to stop by.

He parked the car in the nearest available spot and approached the café. As he opened the door, a soft chime rang out from the bell above.

The old lady turned her head at the sound and noticed him. Offering a polite smile, she motioned for him to take a seat, her hands still occupied with her setup.

Her calm and carefree demeanor elicited a small smile from Max. 

In a bustling and fast-paced city like New York, this woman was working entirely at her own pace. 

It wasn't that she was ignoring Max, rather, he found the whole situation quietly amusing. Her unhurried rhythm suggested that her regulars were either decent people or undoubtedly polite, as she didn't even seem to consider that a new customer might take offense at her seemingly slow service.

Or maybe she wasn't working just for the sake of earning a living, but merely passing her days in her own rhythm, content with the flow of time.

Such a lifestyle, living every moment rather than rushing in competition was something only those with life experience could truly understand.

Max sat near the glass window, watching the scenery outside as he patiently waited for the old woman to approach.

Suddenly, the bell chimed again, snapping Max's attention toward the entrance. A young woman in her early twenties entered the café in a rush. 

Her fair skin and loose black hair framed her face beautifully, while her fitted T-shirt and jeans highlighted a slim, athletic build.

'A beauty, nonetheless,' Max silently rated her with genuine appreciation, his brow raised involuntarily.

"Sorry, Aunt Grey, I'm late," she said in a soft voice as she approached the old lady.

The woman whom she referred to as Aunt Grey tilted her head slightly toward Max in response. 

The younger woman quickly turned, her blue eyes meeting Max's for a brief second. He responded with a small, polite smile.

Startled, she nodded slightly in return before hurrying inside. Moments later, she reemerged with a modest hustle, now wearing an apron and carrying a small notepad in hand as she walked toward him.

Stopping beside his table, she spoke directly, "Sir, what would you like to have?"

Her blunt, no-frills approach completely devoid of the fake smiles most waitresses offered to customers made Max chuckle lightly.

"Bring me a coffee, whatever's best in this place," he replied with a warm smile.

She narrowed her eyes slightly and nodded, turning away with a clear "wait a few minutes" vibe in her stride. 

Max had the faint feeling she may have misunderstood something about him or it could be just the vibe, but since this was likely a fleeting encounter, he refrained from trying to correct it. 

Pushing too far might only make her more guarded.

Still, there was an itch in his heart, an odd tug of curiosity. He hadn't just driven here by chance; something about this moment felt touched by fate. 

Something about her was familiar, he must've seen her somewhere.

Of course, it wasn't as if he was affected by her gritty noir charm which somehow only stood out more because she wasn't wearing any makeup.

Definitely not!

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