Marvel: Father of Superheroes

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Hank Pym was now faced with a dilemma.

The eager gazes and the swirling red "lava" before him.

A choice.

His eyelid twitched slightly, but Hank Pym managed to put on a composed smile, nodding in agreement. "You're right, real men should eat spicy food."

With that, he picked up a fiery lump from the red hellish broth and stuffed it into his mouth.

Although an alarm seemed to go off inside his mouth, Hank Pym still maintained an air of elegance.

"Hank, I'm starting to look at you in a new light."

Hope tilted her head, gazing at him with admiration.

Hank Pym immediately felt like a fresh spring of water had washed over him.

It had been a long time since his daughter looked at him like this.

Ever since her mother entered the Quantum Realm to dismantle the missile…

With a quiet sigh, Hank Pym revealed a hint of a smirk and said, "It's nothing, really."

He then grabbed another piece of food.

Even if this was truly lava in front of him, for the sake of improving his relationship with his daughter—even if just a little—he would swallow it without flinching.

"Delicious!"

Hank Pym praised.

Mike gave him a deep look and said, "If you like it, you should have more."

Hank Pym nodded with composure.

Mike couldn't help but secretly chuckle.

If he hadn't noticed the occasional twitching of Hank Pym's face, he might have been fooled by his seemingly calm exterior.

Since Hank wanted to put on a performance, Mike decided to humor him.

Inwardly, Mike gave himself credit for his understanding.

He then finished his wine in one go, stood up, and said to Hank, "I didn't expect you to like it so much. Wait, I have something you're definitely going to like."

As Hank Pym looked on with confusion, Mike went to retrieve a bottle of liquor.

It was a white, crystal-clear liquid.

"What's this?" Hank Pym asked, quickly inhaling a couple of sharp breaths, trying to mask his discomfort.

Mike placed two glasses on the table. "It's a Chinese liquor. It pairs perfectly with hotpot."

Hank Pym nodded eagerly. "It must be great."

The transparent liquid looked enticing, and he was already thinking about drinking more to ease the fire burning in his mouth.

Mike poured the drink, pushing the glass toward Hank. "Don't be shy."

Hank Pym raised his glass, his daughter watching him, and drank it all in one go.

Then…

His eyes widened, and the liquor almost shot out of his mouth.

What the hell is this?!

Instead of feeling the flames in his mouth die down, it felt like the fire was only intensifying, now blazing directly into his stomach.

"Dad?"

Hope looked at her father with hopeful eyes.

Dad?

Hank Pym's eyes brightened.

She called him "Dad," something she hadn't done in a long time.

At that moment, he felt a wave of emotion welling up, almost to the point of tears.

He swallowed, forcing a grin. "Not bad."

Damn it, he felt like his stomach was on fire.

"Well then, drink more."

Mike smiled and poured Hank another glass.

Hank Pym smiled back, but at this point, he wished he could bury his head in water.

No!

Before he buries his head in water, he'll strangle Mike first!

But seeing Mike's sincere expression, Hank Pym couldn't help but sigh.

It wasn't Mike's fault; it was his own fault for playing the part too well.

"Don't be shy, eat up!"

Mike smiled again, lifting his glass.

An hour later…

Hank Pym's eyes were glazed over, his body drenched in sweat, and the collar of his shirt was pulled open by him.

"Mike! My good brother! I truly met you too late! I've never met anyone so genuinely hospitable like you!"

Hank Pym grabbed Mike's hand, eyes full of tears, looking like someone who regretted not meeting him sooner.

Mike patted Hank Pym's shoulder and said, "This is the first time I've met someone as straightforward as you."

"Haha!" Hank Pym chuckled. Seeing Hope and Clark chatting together, he looked a bit dazed and whispered to Mike, "I tell you, hic! I feel like I'm about to burn up…"

Mike's eyes flickered with a hint of a smile as he replied, "You'll come to enjoy this feeling eventually!"

"Definitely!" Hank responded with a slur, his tongue feeling swollen. Hope you know a good proctologist...

Mike chuckled inwardly, continuing to chat casually with Hank.

Hope glanced back at her father, seeing him disheveled, slinging an arm over Mike's shoulder, and with a face full of embarrassment, covering his face with his hand.

How embarrassing!

But when her prideful father woke up tomorrow and she told him, expressionless, about what had happened tonight, his reaction would surely be priceless.

And the fact that he didn't even like spicy food, yet forced himself to eat it and acted like nothing was wrong—it was hilarious.

But, it was his own fault. He had lost her mother. She would never forgive him!

However, as she looked at his flushed face, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry and inexplicable frustration.

She shouldn't have said that to him tonight…

"No, it's all his fault!"

She muttered under her breath, nervously twisting her hands together.

Across from her, Clark noticed her reaction. His expression shifted slightly.

The girl had only recently come here, and the reason they had become friends—aside from getting along—was because they both had lost their mothers.

"What are you looking at?" Hope asked, pressing her lips together, curiously eyeing Clark.

Clark sighed. "We should be thankful, you know. We both have a good dad."

"Good dad? Ha!" Hope scoffed. "Mike is a good dad, but him… never mind."

Clark sighed again. "Hope, no matter what, he's still your dad. Maybe you two could have a proper talk."

"A talk about what? What do you know?" Hope snapped, jumping off the couch. "It's late, and our driver's here. I'm leaving!"

"Hank!"

Hope called out, striding toward the door.

Hank Pym turned, offering a goofy smile. "Y-yeah, we're leaving!"

Mike helped the unsteady Hank to the door. "Come by more often!"

Hank Pym gave a gesture before sitting in the car, disappearing from the Kent family's sight.

Mike turned to close the door but noticed Clark looked a bit upset. "What's wrong?"

Clark hesitated before speaking. "It seems like Hope's dad can't handle spicy food, but she made him eat it on purpose. She…"

He shared some of their earlier conversation with Mike.

Mike chuckled and squeezed Clark's cheek. "Before you try to talk to someone, at least understand their reasons. What you said is true, but you also need to consider Hope's feelings right now."

Clark nodded, understanding. "I get it now."

Mike ruffled Clark's hair. "Tomorrow, apologize to Hope…"

He paused, his expression becoming slightly awkward. "…and maybe ask how Hank's doing."

(End of chapter)