Chen Mo glanced at him, finished all the remaining cilantro-wrapped beef in one bite, then lowered his head and went back to eating meat.
Peter Parker was getting a little full, but he chose not to let his mouth rest, launching into a description of his wonderful school life with a few of his superhero exploits sprinkled in.
Peter positively came alive when he talked about school.
He talked about his teachers.
About lab classes.
About Harry Osborn, Gwen Stacy, and Mary Jane.
About the time he had fallen asleep in class after patrolling late into the night, and when the teacher made him stand up to answer a question, he had groggily said, "That's not how you fix a Web-Shooter."
After hearing him out, Chen Mo gave a very sincere assessment:
"The fact that you're still alive proves this world is really tolerant of you. What do you mean you stayed up late doing homework and then nearly left Electro on an oil and gas truck full of explosives on your way to school the next morning? What did New York ever do to you?"
For the sake of the kid's sanity, Chen Mo didn't even mention what a godawful mess schools in Gotham were.
Peter scratched his head. "It wasn't that bad."
"That wasn't a compliment," Chen Mo said. "You lack basic respect for danger."
"You're not exactly qualified to criticize me," Peter immediately shot back. "You were half an hour late for training this afternoon."
"I was late because I respect recreational time," Chen Mo said. "Who knew New York would be so peaceful today? I thought you'd spend half an hour fighting crime."
"But you were late because you were playing video games."
"Gaming is training too. It trains hand-eye coordination and prevents dementia. Most importantly,