The Protagonist's Daily Life

"Are there really Vampires?"

"Yes. Not just Vampires—Werewolves, Shapeshifters, Devils, Angels, they all really exist. There are aliens too..."

"Hmph, the government must be covering up the truth again."

"Right?"

Some truths would only cause panic if they were revealed. Obviously, Skye did not see it that way at this stage. If he did not want to argue, he could only obediently go along with her.

That was how you placated women: agree with them and say what they wanted to hear. That was why so many women complained that men before marriage and men after marriage were two different species.

As they talked, the two gradually moved closer together.

"I don't want to interrupt you two, but if you keep flirting, the hot pot broth is going to boil dry!" Old Earl shouted from outside the garage.

"Dock his pay!" Mike gritted his teeth.

"You've already docked all of Old Earl's pay for this month." Skye smiled sweetly.

"Then dock next month's!"

The two could not keep lingering in the underground base.

They returned to the supermarket.

Mike tenderly stroked Chloe's face, where tears had yet to dry, and said, "Next time you're hungry, eat first. You don't have to wait for anyone, understand?"

"Mm!" Chloe nodded seriously.

Earlier, when Chloe came home from school and saw Mike, she had rushed over, hugged his leg, and burst into tears. The heartbroken sight had made Mike's expression turn vicious, and he had nearly drawn his blade on the spot.

Someone bullied Chloe?

Only I can bully Chloe!!!

Old Earl explained that Chloe's mother had also "gone on a long trip," and Chloe had never seen her again.

Before going to Afghanistan, Mike had told Chloe that he was "going on a long trip." Chloe had been terrified, afraid that Mike would disappear forever just like her mother.

"I didn't spoil this girl for nothing." Mike's heart warmed. "Skye! Go online and find some exercise books to reward Chloe."

Skye burst out laughing. "Sure, no problem!"

Chloe blinked, then cried even harder.

It was impossible to eat hot pot every day. It was too heating, and no matter how delicious something was, you would get sick of it if you ate it daily. But whenever something good happened, everyone liked having hot pot.

Most meals in the United States were individually portioned. It was more hygienic, sure, but it always lacked a bit of that lively atmosphere.

Skye liked competing with Mike for meat, even when several plates were piled high with it.

Chloe liked white radish. It melted in her mouth, filling it with the fresh fragrance of the broth.

The little girl had good taste. She knew where the essence of hot pot lay.

Old Earl liked fish.

Dinner lasted until after ten. Everyone sprawled across the couch, while Chloe treated her round little belly like a toy, patting it with endless delight.

Old Earl and Chloe had moved into the new apartment across the hall from Skye, so they no longer had to worry about getting home safely at night.

His phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number.

Mike immediately declined the call.

After the press conference ended, shareholders, Congress, the White House, the military... countless people—anyone who knew Stark's number—frantically called him. Without exception, though, they heard, "The number you have dialed is powered off."

Stark was trying to explain to Pepper why he had done it.

A near-death experience really could change how someone viewed the world, but it had not changed Stark's willfulness. Without discussion or any transition, he had unilaterally announced the closure of Stark Group's weapons division, nearly giving the other shareholders heart attacks.

With no one supporting him, Stark was extremely depressed. He picked up a can of ice-cold beer and sat on the couch.

"No, someone supported him. The more Stark Group's stock dropped, the more that guy earned. Motherfucker."

He should have been furious, but as he spoke, Stark started laughing instead.

It was fucking ironic.

He took a sip of beer.

Something about the taste felt off.

It was clearly a bottle of top-tier Tutankhamun Malt Beer that cost nearly a hundred US dollars.

Stark remembered the ice-cold beer he had drunk after being rescued.

He suddenly felt a little nostalgic.

"JARVIS, call Mike for me."

Stark did not have Mike's phone number, but he believed JARVIS would handle it.

JARVIS said, "The other party declined the call."

Stark said, "Redial!"

JARVIS said, "The other party's phone is powered off."

Stark said, "..."

A few minutes later, Happy was tragically forced to work overtime, driving the bodyguard car behind Stark's sports car.

Fortunately, they were staying at Stark Tower tonight.

The orange-and-black Bugatti Veyron sped through the streets of New York, murdering countless gazes.

"He lives here?" Stark got out of the car and looked around in disgust. "Happy, are you sure this is right?"

Happy vaguely heard the sound of gunfire from a street battle. Just like last time, it was a familiar scene and familiar sounds.

"It's here, sir." Happy was absolutely certain.

Stark looked up at the supermarket sign and muttered, "I thought he was joking. He really opened a supermarket."

Hearing the door open and the automated "Welcome," Skye stood up and muttered, "Did I forget to put up the 'Closed' sign?" Then she saw Tony Stark in his flamboyant purple suit.

Skye froze for a moment, then called out, "Mike! Someone's here for you."

Mike poked his head out. "Tony, it's you! You're here to pay up, right? Haha, being a day or two late doesn't matter. It's not like I'm charging interest."

Stark nearly coughed up blood. It was such a small amount of money, and he had only delayed for such a short time, yet Mike actually had the nerve to mention interest.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Stark decisively took out his checkbook, filled in the amount, and signed his name. He had a strong feeling that if he paid any later, Mike would truly piss him off enough to make him vomit blood.

A few minutes later, Stark was sprawled on the couch as well.

Mike said, "You left your mansion to come lie around here? Where's Yinsen?"

Stark said, "He's old, so he's resting. Unlike us young people."

"Pfft!"

Mike gave him a thumbs-up. "A greasy middle-aged uncle in his forties has the nerve to call himself young. When it comes to shamelessness, you're still a little better than me."

"You're too kind, you're too kind." Stark ignored Mike's attack. "Yinsen insists on returning to Gulmira. Wouldn't it be better to bring his family to the United States to live together?"

Mike shot Stark a sidelong glance.

Stark said, "What? Is there something on my face?"

Mike said, "Yeah, stupidity. Yinsen's family is dead, idiot!"

Stark thought back. Yinsen and Mike had never been alone together, and why would Yinsen tell Mike such things?

Stark was doubtful. "No way..."

Mike cursed, "Idiot, his eyes! Did Yinsen's eyes look like the eyes of someone who survived a disaster and was about to reunite with his family?"

"Uh..."

Stark had to admit Mike made sense, then angrily said, "Scumbag, crooked merchant... This is the first time anyone's called me an idiot, and you've done it twice. I'll remember this, asshole!"

So in your eyes, scumbag and crooked merchant were not insults.

Stark took a deep breath. "What should I do about Yinsen?"

After a moment of silence, Mike said, "Don't you have experience with this kind of thing?"

When Stark's parents had died in that car accident, how had he gotten through it?

At that moment, Happy carried several cases of Chinese beer into the trunk. Stark slapped his thigh. "Let's go!"

Then he drove off in that flashy sports car.

Skye poked Mike. "It looks like he didn't pay for the beer!"

"Fuck!" Mike cursed.

Skye said, "You two get along pretty well. Is it because playboys of a feather flock together?"

Mike said, "Uh... not really. Mainly, we don't want anything from him and don't ask anything of him. When he deserves a scolding, we scold him. When he deserves to be roasted, we roast him. He's just the type who likes being treated that way."

Elsewhere, Tracy was arguing with Jessica.

Tracy's face was dark. "Why did you go looking for Mike?"

Jessica stammered, "You seemed to care about him a lot. I just... I didn't want you to get hurt."

Jessica fell silent.

Just as she had said, she always seemed to mess things up.

When had that despairing life begun?