Marvel: Father of Superheroes

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*****

Pointed barbs, secret maneuvers, subtle undermining…

Two smiling women were engaged in a silent battle so intense it left Mike in awe.

Normally, if he saw something like this, he would've just yawned and muttered, "Boring," with a blank face.

But now...

Watching the two argue over Clark made Mike feel oddly pleased—and even a little proud.

It was like his family's pig—

Pah!

He meant cabbage! A fresh, juicy cabbage!

The feeling of watching his beautiful home-grown cabbage spark a fight among vegetable vendors.

He could even imagine words popping up over Clark's head like a video game:

"Market value +1, market value +1..."

"Ha ha."

Mike let out a low chuckle and turned to Thor, who was taking notes nearby. "You can try making this yourself. It's really simple—with your current skills, you'll pick it up in no time."

Thor's face lit up with joy.

Did this mean he'd earned Mike's approval?

That was huge! It was Mike's approval!

Ever since that night when Mike had prepared a table full of dishes like a true artist, Mike had become a kitchen god in Thor's eyes.

And now, being acknowledged by that god filled the rookie chef with excitement.

"Thank you! I'll do my best!"

Thor shouted excitedly. He looked down at the ingredients in front of him, eyes shining with determination.

Mike: "..."

What's gotten into this goofball again?

Mike glanced at Thor in confusion before bringing out three plates of freshly fried seafood rice.

He sighed as he looked at Clark, who was sandwiched between Carrie and Lois like someone caught in a whirlpool.

It seemed like only he could bring a temporary end to their meaningless war of words.

He set the plates down in front of the three.

Carrie and Lois immediately thanked him.

Mike let the tray hang by his side and stopped in front of Clark.

"Son, I remember you really like spicy food—the spicier, the better. But I haven't seen you eating it lately. What's up with that?"

"Huh?"

Clark looked up at his father. Noticing the mischievous glint in Mike's eyes, he instantly became alert.

His dad was up to something.

Sure enough, before Mike even finished speaking, Lois exclaimed in delight, "Clark, you like spicy food too? That's great!"

She scooped up a spoonful of chili from the table.

"Wait, that chili is really—"

Before Clark could finish warning her, Lois had already mixed the chili into her rice, smiling. "It's fine, I love spicy food!"

Clark: "…"

You'll see…

Carrie let out a light hmph, picked up the little jar of chili, and said with an admiring tone, "You're impressive, Lois. You can actually eat a full spoonful. Reminds me of myself when I was younger."

One, two, three... Three spoonfuls!

Hiss!

Watching the fried rice change color completely, Clark secretly gasped.

This is how they're eating it?

Even Hank Pym wouldn't dare do this!

Clark quickly grabbed the jar to stop them from dumping in the rest of Mike's custom chili paste. He scooped two spoonfuls into his own rice, handed it back to Mike, and muttered through gritted teeth, "Dad, that's enough."

"Oh!"

Mike accepted the chili with a straight face and walked away as if nothing had happened.

But as he heard the sounds of deep inhaling and desperate gasping for air behind him, he couldn't help but smile.

Ah, peace at last.

Everyone inhaling chili fumes together!

Tsk!

So much more heartwarming than verbal warfare.

As expected, from the first spoonful to the last, neither Lois nor Carrie had the energy to argue. They were too busy gasping for breath and chugging water.

When they left, Clark cast a complicated look at Mike.

A mix of admiration… and helplessness.

Mike patted Clark's shoulder. "That's all your old man can do for you."

Temporarily silencing them—this was the best he could manage.

Clark forced out an awkward smile and walked away.

Since it was the first day of reopening, there hadn't been many customers. By mid-afternoon, the place was empty.

Mike hung the "Temporarily Closed" sign and asked Thor to make two servings of fried rice. He tasted a bite and nodded in approval.

"Not bad," he said to the nervous-looking Thor beside him.

Thor grinned foolishly, picked up a spoon, and happily dug in.

When he finished, scraping the plate clean and silently praising himself, a thought struck him. He slapped his forehead.

"Where's Gwen? She's not still at home starving, is she?"

Mike shook his head. "She went out with Raven. They'll be back tonight."

"Oh!"

Thor responded and began cleaning the dishes.

Mike poured two cups of green tea. Thor picked one up, took a small sip, and closed his eyes, savoring the taste with a contented smile.

Suddenly, Mike asked, "Have you tried summoning your hammer?"

Thor's eyes flew open. Disappointment and sorrow immediately clouded his face.

"I tried... but there was no response. I'm still not worthy."

Still not worthy?

Mike fell silent, deep in thought.

What's he missing?

Thor had already changed so much. The arrogance and pride were gone. He was now just a cheerful, chubby chef.

So what quality was he still lacking?

After a few seconds of thought, Mike's eyes lit up.

If he was right…

It was sacrifice.

Humility and kindness weren't enough. He also needed the heart to sacrifice.

But...

That was something he couldn't just tell Thor.

If he did, Thor might start trying to force himself to "sacrifice," and it would become deliberate.

If the hammer still rejected him, it would be Mike's fault.

Thor simply needed the right moment—the right spark.

Mike made a silent note and said aloud, "Don't worry. You'll be able to lift it."

"I hope so," Thor said, his gaze distant. He smiled, a bit wistfully. "Though honestly, I think things aren't so bad right now."

Other than not being able to return home or see his family… yeah, things were pretty okay.

But…

He really missed home. Even apologizing to his father would be fine—if only he had the chance.

But that chance was gone.

Thor's heart ached. He swallowed a mouthful of still-hot tea like it was water.

Loki—his brother—had secretly visited him the last time he broke into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s temporary base and brought devastating news.

Their father had passed away from grief.

Thor hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

The memory made Thor even more sorrowful.

Seeing Thor's expression, Mike was speechless.

What's this guy thinking about now? Why does his face look worse and worse?

He looked exactly like one of those weeping wall-nuts from Plants vs. Zombies.

"Ah!"

Suddenly, a sharp cry of pain rang out from in front of the shop.

Mike, who happened to be sitting facing the door, saw an elderly man with a slightly plump frame—carrying a sack of plastic bottles—fall right at his doorstep.

(End of Chapter)