The minor incident has subsided, and the atmosphere inside the house is relaxed and comfortable.
After calming Pepper down, the three of them decided to get together for dinner.
Rimuru has been staying in Asgard these past few days, attending divine banquets every day, where he eats top-quality, oily, and flavorful dishes of fish, meat, roasted meat, and fine wine. His mouth is getting tired of it.
Compared to the luxurious but monotonous food of the divine realm, he particularly missed the light and palatable Chinese cuisine of Earth.
Tony was too lazy to prepare high-end cuisine, so he simply had his private chef prepare a table of home-style Chinese food: stir-fried vegetables, light soup with side dishes and staple food, focusing on a light and refreshing taste to cleanse his palate of the greasiness accumulated over the past few days.
The dining table was steaming, creating a relaxed and comfortable atmosphere.
Halfway through the meal, Rimuru suddenly remembered something, and with a flick of her little hand, produced a pile of fine wines with antique packaging and clear, bright colors.
This is the divine wine he secretly hoarded at a grand banquet in Asgard.
In fact, when it comes to drinking, he was not afraid of a group of Asgard strongmen at his peak. Even if they took turns toasting him, he could handle it with ease.
But deep down, he still preferred sweet, iced cola to strong, spicy liquor.
It has to be Pepsi.
But the Asgardians were so warm and hospitable that he couldn't refuse their toasts and drinks. Unable to resist their hospitality, Rimuru simply stuffed all the fine wines offered into his stomach without a word, not wasting a single drop or drinking an extra sip.
Having nothing else to do right now, I thought I'd take it out and give it a try.
Tony immediately became interested upon seeing this, took the bottle, and poured three glasses of wine.
The moment the liquor is poured into the glass, it releases a unique aroma that is both elegant and rich. It is not pungent or irritating, but rather smooth and lingering, with a taste completely different from any other alcoholic beverage on Earth.
Tony and Pepper each took a small bite, and their taste buds were instantly amazed.
It has a smooth and mellow taste upon entry, a warm and sweet aftertaste upon swallowing, and a subtle, pure spiritual energy, making it exceptionally soothing.
It truly lives up to its reputation as a rare and precious wine from the divine realm.
Unable to contain their curiosity, the two pressed for details about the wine's age, reasoning that such fine wine, stored in the Asgard, must have aged for a long time.
Rimuru shook his head innocently.
He couldn't remember the specific year; he was too busy hoarding the wine. All he knew was that these few jars of wine were some of his most treasured stock, which he had casually rummaged through Odin's private treasury.
It goes without saying that the age is definitely not low; conservatively speaking, it's probably older than Tony and Pepper's combined ages.
The two savored the fine wine from the ancient Asgard while enjoying delicious Chinese food, creating a relaxed and comfortable atmosphere at the table.
Rimuru, however, was engrossed in his meal, showing no interest in fine wine and completely absorbed in the deliciousness of his simple, home-cooked dishes.
Just then, JARVIS's cold, clear electronic voice suddenly rang out in the empty villa hall, breaking the tranquility of the dining table.
"Sir, Colonel Rhodes has arrived at the villa's entrance and is about to enter."
Upon hearing the announcement, Rimuru's heart skipped a beat, and he silently complained.
No way? Could it be that Nick Fury, that Black Nick Fury, came over specifically to freeload and join in the fun, drawn by the aroma of alcohol and food?
He could picture the other person looking serious, like they were there to cause trouble on official business.
But when footsteps came from the doorway, the figure that walked in was indeed dark-skinned, but it was not the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. at all.
It was Rhodey, weary from his journey.
Rhodey was completely unceremonious. As Tony's loyal brother who had stood shoulder to shoulder with him for many years, he was already very familiar with Stark Villa.
Without saying a word, he walked straight to the dining table, pulled up a chair, and sat down without any hesitation.
Having worked tirelessly for several days and nights without a proper rest, he was truly starving. As soon as he sat down, he picked up his utensils and began to eat, his movements swift and hurried.
The next second, with lightning speed, he snatched the glass of wine that Tony had just filled, tilted his head back, and gulped it down in one go.
The way they ate, wolfing down their food, looked like they hadn't had a proper meal for days.
That is indeed the case.
Since the end of the Battle of New York, Rhodey has been working non-stop, without having a proper hot meal. He has been immersed in complicated and trivial follow-up work all day long, and is physically and mentally exhausted.
The strong, mellow Asgard went down my throat, and the warm alcohol instantly numbed my tense nerves, igniting the fatigue and irritability that had accumulated over the past few days.
While frantically eating, Rhodey launched into an unstoppable rant, like an impromptu rap, pouring out a bellyful of grievances.
"You have no idea what a mess this alien invasion of New York has made for the military!"
His face was full of helplessness and frustration as he vented his frustration.
After the alien war ended, the ground was littered with alien debris, broken weapons, and unknown technological materials.
Their military not only had to mobilize all its personnel, working day and night to clean up alien remnants throughout the city, but the workload was also ridiculously large.
What's even more frustrating is that a bunch of audacious speculators in the country always take advantage of the chaos to secretly loot scattered alien equipment and then resell it on the black market for profit, which is impossible to prevent.
Besides cleanup and stability maintenance, the most troublesome thing is the endless wrangling.
The military and S.H.I.E.L.D.. are constantly arguing over the ownership of these alien technologies, with each side wanting to be the first to take over the research.
The more Rhodey talked, the more aggrieved he felt, and he glared fiercely at Tony was calmly eating and doing nothing.
"The most infuriating thing is you! I'm working myself to the bone, and you, as my best brother, just stood by and watched, not offering a single helping hand. I think our brotherhood is over!"
Faced with his best friend's relentless accusations, Tony could only shrug helplessly, neither laughing nor crying.
He was truly caught in a dilemma, unable to express his suffering.
On one side is a close friend from college, a staunch brother who fought alongside him, and the military system; on the other side is the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D.. cooperation system that he personally spearheaded.
He was caught in the middle, with his own people on both sides. It was inappropriate for him to help either side, so he couldn't take sides and get involved in this mess.
Besides, he simply hasn't had time to deal with these petty squabbles lately.
The anti-gravity engine experiment has achieved a groundbreaking breakthrough. At this stage, all efforts are focused on refining the technology and planning for subsequent mass production, leaving no extra time to get involved in disputes over ownership.
Pepper sat quietly at the dining table, holding a glass of water, watching the two of them without saying a word.
Rimuru put down his chopsticks and obediently lay down by the table, his round eyes wide open, quietly listening to Rhodey's various complaints and grumbles.
It has to be said that Black people do have some talent; even though he was criticizing Tony's inaction, Rhodey managed to make it sound like a rap.
The two of them calmly watched, not interrupting or saying a word, silently observing Rhodes' passionate and immersive rant, which allowed him to release all the pent-up frustration he had been holding in for days.