Lunch Together

Three hundred thousand dollars.

That was the highest price Coulson had offered after Yuri used mind control on him.

Yuri curled his lip in disdain. Motherfucker Man was genuinely ruthless—and genuinely a bastard. This was the inventor of the armor, Tony Stark!

And he was only worth $300,000!

He motioned for Yinsen to take the briefcase and count the money with the bill counter right in front of Coulson. Then, with a blink, he used his ability to make the memory of their "haggling" feel perfectly natural to Coulson.

"Well..."

Coulson hadn't noticed anything amiss. With a faintly regretful look, he glanced at the briefcase on the counter. Apart from his mission bonus, he wouldn't be pocketing a cent this time. He drew his gaze back and studied Yuri. "Who is that person?"

Yuri chuckled. "Even if I don't tell you, you should already know."

Coulson smiled faintly and didn't answer. If it turned out to be someone else, he wouldn't just miss out on the money—he might also get docked for using agency funds to buy false information.

Yuri nodded. "Tony Stark. You know, putting a suit of armor into combat takes a tremendous amount of energy. Only his Micro-Reactor can supply the power it needs."

Coulson extended his hand with a smile. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Yuri."

"The pleasure's mine."

Yuri reached out as well, but at the last second, just before their hands met, he pulled his arm back and gave a thumbs-up.

"Mr. Yuri, you're quite the prankster."

Coulson elegantly withdrew the fist he'd held out between them. He nodded to Yinsen, who was busy counting the money, then left Ancestor's Handicraft Shop without looking back.

Through the shop window, Yuri clearly saw dozens of tall, burly men with bulging waists emerge from various shops nearby. They got into several cars parked along the road and drove off in different directions.

"Heh."

Yuri turned and went back to the counter. He casually took a bundle of bills from the money Yinsen had counted. "Once you're done counting, put it back in the briefcase for now. I'm going to buy some things. I'll put it away when I get back."

"Sure thing, boss."

Yinsen didn't even look up. He was utterly absorbed in the bills, each one giving off a strong smell of ink.

Yuri shrugged, rolled up a one-inch-thick wad of greenbacks, stuffed it in his pocket, and pushed open the shop door.

Nike, Adidas...

He swept through the stores, buying everything from everyday sportswear and suits to standard-sized men's underwear and C+ and B- compression bras. He even had several outfits custom-made for special occasions for the five who didn't yet have ID cards.

Yuri unloaded the bags of clothes hanging from his arms inside the shop. After telling Yinsen not to touch anything, he took another two-inch-thick wad of bills from the briefcase and left the shop again.

Yinsen looked at the sea of green in the briefcase and shook his head. I may not care about money, but you can't tempt me like this.

Outside the window, the sidewalk was packed with people, providing the shops on the street with plenty of customers. But one thing was certain: no one would enter a handicraft shop where they had to act like a complete suck-up just to get inside. Even the Hell's Kitchen delivery workers only left orders at the door.

"Good thing I don't have to worry about my paycheck."

Yinsen touched his glowing forehead, just like Coulson's, then adjusted the glasses on his nose. He glanced at his watch. It was 12:50.

He could eat in ten minutes.

He went into the restroom to wash his own utensils in advance. When he came out, he saw Yuri getting out of a car with a Hell's Kitchen delivery worker.

"Open up, Yinsen!"

Yuri and the delivery worker unloaded one heavy foam cooler after another from the trunk and back seat.

Yinsen opened the shop door and helped carry them inside, puzzled. "Boss, are you stocking up on supplies? There's so much food—we couldn't finish it in a whole week!"

Yuri took a dollar from his pocket and tipped the delivery worker. After watching him leave, he shut the door and told Yinsen, "We've got some new employees. This is one meal's worth."

Yinsen only half understood, but he had a vague idea. Either there were a lot of "new employees," or they ate as much as the boss did.

A sensible person knew what was and wasn't worth asking. He took his own portion and returned to the counter. This job was already more than good enough; he didn't want to complicate things.

"Shack, Kate, Vanax! Get down here!"

The security door at the top of the second-floor stairs opened by itself. Several heavy sets of footsteps quickly descended to the first floor.

Yinsen pushed up his glasses. Good grief. Three hulking men sharing a single trench coat, with their fronts covered and their backs exposed—what an eyesore!

"Stop!"

All the footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

Yuri handed out the bags of clothes piled on the floor to the five of them. He ordered the men to go to the second floor and the woman to the third, change, then come back down to eat.

The three men took their clothes, completely ignoring Yinsen behind the counter, and scampered back upstairs with their bare butts hanging out.

Yuri gave Yinsen an awkward smile. "They might be a little unusual. If anything happens, I hope you'll be understanding."

Yinsen swallowed his food, glanced toward the stairs, and nodded. "Don't worry, boss. I think I'm prepared."

A few minutes later, five young men and women stood on the first floor, fully dressed but visibly uncomfortable. Silly Bird Vanax reached under her top and impatiently scratched at the compression underwear wrapped around her two grain sacks. "Boss, do I really have to wear this? And the thing under my pants, too? They're so tight and uncomfortable."

The other four nodded in agreement. Five pairs of eyes blinked expectantly at the Mutant Leader, who stood there with his mouth twitching.

"Endure, adapt, overcome!"

Yuri slowly uttered three utterly ordinary words. He looked over the five of them, then fixed his gaze on Silly Bird. "Think of them as environmental conditions you have no choice but to endure. I believe in you!"

"Yes!"

Yinsen, who was drinking water, jumped at the sudden shout. Half the mouthful went down his throat and half went into his lungs, sending him into a coughing fit.

"Boss, who is this human?"

Silly Bird glanced disdainfully at Yinsen, whose face had turned red from coughing. He couldn't even drink water without choking. Humans were so weak.

Yuri was handing out meal boxes to Shack and the others. At that, he corrected her. "Human! Human! Human! Vanax, you should ask, 'Who is this person?'"

"Oh."

Vanax had only asked casually. Her attention quickly shifted to the foam coolers on the floor, which were giving off a tempting aroma. "Where's mine? Where's mine? Boss, where's mine?"

Yuri picked up his thirty portions of steak and side fruit, then pointed his chin at the two remaining coolers. "Those are yours. Bring them over. I'll teach you all how to eat."

"Pfft!"

Yinsen, who had just recovered, sprayed the water he'd taken to calm his nerves all over the place. He wiped the water off the counter, still stunned. "Teach them to eat?"

How was he going to teach them?

What kind of eating was he going to teach them?

Could I watch?