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Peter suddenly noticed that Hayato's eyes had changed. His pupils were black, just like an ordinary person's.

"Your eyes?!"

Hayato explained, "Oh, I disguised them when we came in. People always mistake me for blind, and it's quite troublesome."

Hair and eye colors in the Shinobi World came in all sorts of varieties. No one would make a fuss over them.

Hayato picked out plenty of seasonings, and the bags and packages left Peter dizzy.

Suddenly, Hayato's gaze fell on a glass jar, and he froze in shock.

Lao Gan Ma Soy Sauce Chili!

Oh my god!

How did this world have this stuff too? Was it so powerful that it could ignore the barriers between universes?!

Hayato took a jar. As a mass-produced product, its quality and flavor were quite good. It certainly could not compare to the genuine ingredients in Hayato's homemade version, but this stuff carried sentimental value.

When eating, spoon some into a small dish—it was full of ritual.

At checkout, Old Li gave them the promised twenty percent discount and even threw in a bottle of erguotou.

After leaving the little supermarket, the two went to a larger one for vegetables, meat, toothbrushes, towels, clothes, and other daily necessities, spending nearly all the dollars in their pockets.

Peter lived in Forest Hills, Queens. The surroundings were beautiful, and it was less than a kilometer from Flushing Meadows Park. Forest Hills was more like a small town, and housing prices were cheap. A small villa with a front lawn and backyard would not even buy a studio apartment in a first-tier Chinese city. As a result, it attracted many Chinese people obsessed with real estate.

After leaving the supermarket, Peter looked deeply troubled.

How was he supposed to explain this to Aunt May?

How