Delicious and Filling

When Peter came to stay with him, Schiller's considerations had been a little too superficial.

Spider-Man was indeed kind, brave, and steadfast, but Peter also had all the bad habits of a teenage boy his age: sleeping by day and staying up by night, being addicted to games, refusing to sleep at night, and refusing to get up in the morning.

Perhaps because of the Spider Mutation, Peter had an enormous appetite and was obsessed with all kinds of American burgers and fried chicken. Schiller felt that if this continued, he would turn from a spider into a crab.

Schiller tapped the rim of the pot and said, "Listen, I don't care how much energy you've spent sparring with Steve lately, but no human being should still want a huge bucket of porridge after finishing five pots of rice."

Peter set down his bowl, rubbed his stomach, and said, "I never dreamed I could eat this much. I suspect there's a black hole in my stomach."

Matt limped through the door, his injuries not yet fully healed. Peter hurried over to help him up. Matt said, "He's still growing, so it's only natural for him to eat more. But kid, you have to promise me that once you're done eating, you'll go exercise. If you don't want to become a ball, you'd better not stay in your room playing games all day."

Schiller picked up Pikachu as well and said, "I bet you were the one who led Peter astray, whether it was eating so much in one sitting or holding a controller and playing games every day..."

Pikachu retorted in Deadpool's voice, "How is that my fault? This sticky kid is skinny as a bean sprout, and he's terrible at games. Whenever I play fighting games with him, I have to give him One Hand. And in Armed Assault, even the onions you cut this morning could aim at enemies better than he can..."

Before Pikachu could finish, Peter clapped a hand over his mouth. Schiller said, "There's no rice left at the clinic. We can only buy more tomorrow, so you'll have to sort out your own dinner tonight."

Peter let out a wail. Schiller wiped the droplets of water from his hands and said, "Not just your dinner. Mine too."

"Are we going out to eat?" Peter asked.

"Of course. And I know a good place. It's one of the benefits from my new job. I heard the food isn't particularly tasty, but it's guaranteed to fill you up."

"Hmph." Peter snorted disdainfully. "They're still too young. I feel like I could swallow ten cows right now."

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s International Defense Headquarters was located in New York, with its entrance inside a phone booth not far from Manhattan. But once inside the booth, the elevator twisted and turned, and no one knew where it was headed.

With Gray Mist's sensory system, Schiller vaguely sensed that they were nearly in the suburbs before the elevator finally stopped.

Schiller and Peter stepped out of the elevator, where Coulson stood waiting to welcome them. "As you can see, welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s International Reception Center. This place is specifically for receiving various externally hired S.H.I.E.L.D. members, and it also serves as a resting place for elite Field Agents."

Schiller checked his watch and said, "I assume you'll honor the benefits written into my contract when I joined?"

"Yes. The employee cafeteria is always free, and so is the coffee. Though the espresso here might not meet your standards. If you have particularly high demands for coffee, I can submit a report to the higher-ups." Coulson smiled pleasantly.

"No need." Schiller waved a hand. "I have no expectations whatsoever for the coffee taste of someone who enjoys drinking rinse water."

Coulson led Schiller and Peter through the lobby and then across the living area. The decor did not have an overly heavy sci-fi style. It was more like minimalist Scandinavian design, with plenty of fabric furnishings, and looked fairly comfortable.

Peter looked around, somewhat disappointed. "I thought you people worked somewhere that looked like an alien spaceship."

"Uh... the International Defense Headquarters and some research headquarters are like that. But this is just a reception center, a place for Field Agents to eat and rest. Do you really think staying in an alien spaceship twenty-four hours a day is a good idea?"

Peter did not answer, but it was clear that this place did not quite match his expectations of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Coulson was a perceptive man. He said, "If you officially join S.H.I.E.L.D., you'll have a chance to visit headquarters. It'll blow you away."

Before Peter could ask any questions, they arrived at the cafeteria. This place did have a bit of a sci-fi feel, because there were no chefs. Instead, rows upon rows of food moved along conveyor belts from various windows.

"A buffet?" Schiller asked.

"Most agents don't have much time to wait for chefs to cook, so everything here is buffet-style. But don't worry. You can find cuisine from all over the world here, and it all tastes fairly good."

"Just what I wanted," Schiller said.

Peter rubbed his stomach. Schiller patted him on the shoulder and said, "Go on, Peter. I think you can make them regret giving me this employment benefit."

Coulson smiled and said, "S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't so poor that we can't feed our agents. Go ahead, kid. There's no way you can eat faster than the assembly line here."

Schiller smiled faintly.

Three hours later, Natasha walked in through the entrance with a phone in hand. She cursed into it, "Don't you know I'm on an assignment following Stark?... And what nonsense are you talking about? When did S.H.I.E.L.D. ever change the contract? What clause is there that we can't provide? Do I really need to rush back and amend it right now?!"

Still on the phone, she strode quickly toward the cafeteria. Pushing open the door, she said, "Coulson! Damn it, you'd better have a proper reason, or I'll complain to the Director that you interfered with my work..."

The moment her voice fell, she saw the mountain of plates in the middle of the cafeteria.

This was not an exaggeration, but a fact. The entire circular cafeteria was enormous, covering several thousand square meters, yet its center was now completely blocked by a massive pile of plates that rose straight to the ceiling like a gigantic pyramid.

That pile of plates was at least three people tall and so wide that even dozens of people joining hands could not encircle it. And judging by the situation, they did not seem to be finished eating yet.

Natasha stepped over a pile of food remains and patted a smoking food-delivery robot. Shocked, she said, "What happened here? Did Nick Fury finally decide to raise dinosaurs at S.H.I.E.L.D.?!"

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

Natasha looked the pile of plates up and down. "I remember that clause, but employees aren't allowed to bring outsiders, are they? How many people did he bring? Don't tell me there's an entire company here?"

Coulson pointed. Natasha went around the mountain of plates and found only three figures—two large and one small.

Peter had already been defeated, slumped in his chair and dozing off. Pikachu was looking a little worn out, but he was still tossing plate after plate onto the top of the mountain.

Only Schiller, who possessed Gray Mist, had no fear of being unable to finish so much food. Or rather, he was simply storing the food inside Gray Mist, breaking it down without actually eating it.

Simply put, he had come here to stock up.

Of course, Gray Mist was also eating happily. He had consumed at least dozens of kilograms of desserts with chocolate, syrup, and preserved fruit. Schiller had even made an exception and let him drink a tiny bit of concentrated Fear Gas. At that moment, he was happily looping a catchy Divine Comedy he had learned from television inside Schiller's mind.

Natasha blinked, unable to speak for a moment.

"Hey, is the cafeteria still open? I just got back from a run. There's basil beef tonight..."

Captain America had just pushed open the door when he froze as well. Shocked, he said, "I knew it. Decades ago, Nick told me he wanted to raise elephants, but I never thought he planned to fulfill that dream now..."

Without saying a word, Coulson covered his face and raised an arm. Captain America went around the pile of plates too and saw the three people lying back in their chairs, stuffed senseless.

"Um..." Captain America pressed his lips together, hesitated, then looked at Natasha. "Don't tell me they ate all the food in the cafeteria."

Natasha gave a smile that did not reach her eyes. She smacked the top of a nearby food-delivery robot, and a panel popped out.

After reading it, she said, "Wonderful. Now we can decide which restaurant in New York to have dinner at, and while we're at it, where to eat breakfast and lunch tomorrow."

Schiller stood up as if nothing had happened. "Thank you for the hospitality. I think the employee benefits here are indeed excellent. Unfortunately, I'm a bit pressed for time today. I still have a friend waiting hungry, and I need to pack some food for him. Let's call it here for lunch."

Natasha stopped him. "It's not as if S.H.I.E.L.D. can't afford the cost of this food, but after you eat a meal here, you have to give us time to restock. While we're restocking, the other agents won't have anything to eat. Can you really bear to let your colleagues go hungry?"

Steve said, "Can't you tell? Of course he can. He can even bear to let his friend go hungry. I came here wanting a huge steak, but now it looks like I won't even get a single French fry."

Schiller snapped his fingers. Pikachu set down the last beef patty and jumped onto Schiller's shoulder. Smiling, Schiller said, "I have a good place to recommend to you. It's an employment benefit from my other job. The food there isn't particularly tasty, but it's guaranteed to fill you up."

Natasha and Steve narrowed their eyes together.

Five hours later, Stark stared at the mountain of plates in the middle of his employee cafeteria. He opened his mouth but could not force out a single word.

Jarvis spoke from the side. "I imagine you do not particularly wish to hear the full extent of the food losses right now, but I must inform you that if new food supplies do not arrive before ten o'clock, every employee in the company will have to go hungry tomorrow."

Stark took a deep breath. He could already imagine Pepper losing her temper at him tomorrow while facing a mountain of employee complaints.

Wearing his armor, he clanked through the pile of plates and looked at the people sprawled in their chairs, bellies up. "Wonderful. You've caused Stark Industries' first food crisis in a hundred years. If Pepper gets mad at me tomorrow, I'm giving every one of you a punch."

Schiller said, "Don't panic. We can just go buy more."

"It's almost nine o'clock. Where do you expect the purchasing staff to buy food now? And our transport trucks have already stopped running. Even if we buy it, how are we supposed to move it?"

"Come on! One Captain America, two super agents, one Spider-Man, and one Iron Man—can't you people carry a few vegetables?"

Two hours later, everyone was flying back loaded down with bags.

Stark had never dreamed that the superhero team's first mission would be going to the nearest supermarket, buying a mountain of food, and then flying back with countless shopping bags in each person's hands.

As he flew, Stark cursed, "Damn it, my fans absolutely cannot see Iron Man looking this pathetic. What am I, some nanny robot? Or a housewife rice cooker?"

The moment he finished speaking, a burst of camera flashes went off.

The next day, the New York Times' front-page headline showed Iron Man covered from head to toe in more than a dozen huge shopping bags, while the two figures leaping between skyscrapers behind him were also carrying all kinds of family-sized food packages.

And Pepper stood at the top of Stark Tower, shouting at Stark, "You damn busybody!! The high-gluten flour you bought made all the bread and cakes in the employee meals as hard as rubber bands!!!"

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