If you are wondering why I am shocked, that is because it is the first time I faced someone this massive. My mind raced back to my past life, recalling encounters that now seemed almost quaint by comparison. I knew I had faced a 10-foot-tall robot, a formidable opponent in its own right, but then, I was also 6 feet tall, standing eye-to-chest with the mechanical giant. Right now, I am a mere 4-foot-tall dwarf compared to my future self, and my opponent is at least a 20-foot-tall White Tiger, and its body length will certainly exceed that. The sheer current difference in size is demoralizing.
I know the monsters that invaded New York had bigger units, truly gargantuan beasts, and even whales are objectively bigger than him, I thought, trying to ground myself in some form of reality. But I only watched them on a computer screen, a mere 14 inches of flickering pixels. This was different. This was real. This was a mountain of muscle and fang right in front of me.
I have heard Tony bragging about his confrontations with them, of course, I mused, a faint, desperate humor surfacing. I always thought he was exaggerating, playing up the heroics for a good story. But now, seeing this… I have to acknowledge his courage to fight them.
And at least he had a hi-tech suit, a multi-million-dollar armored shell. Hawkeye and Black Widow, fighting those things with just arrows and batons… they must have minds of pure steel to stand against such horrors.
I mean, I always knew Marvel had a fantasy genre, and I heard about Shou-Lao—the dragon in K'un-Lun—but I never really saw them, never truly believed they could exist outside of ancient texts and comic book panels. Now, standing here, facing what seems to be The freaking White Tiger of the myths, and my mind was going on hyperdrive, thinking about all kinds of impossible things, desperately trying to make sense of the fantastical reality before me.
But his sarcastic question about my apparent blindness pushed away all the unimportant thoughts to the back, like clearing a cluttered desk. It slammed my rationality back to the front, which automatically assigned an appropriate, desperate response before I could even fully process it. Which was to blurt out:
"I'm Sorry!" I blurted out, the apology automatic, almost involuntary. In hindsight, I wanted to protest, to argue it wasn't my fault, that this was all completely beyond the realm of my experience. But in this immediate, terrifying situation, defiance was suicide. Better to live to fight another day, even if it meant swallowing my pride, I told myself, a grim, self-deprecating humor trying to cut through the fear. Despite the admission, I neither put down the knife nor lowered my guard. The instinct for survival was too strong.
"You have courage, boy," the Big Guy rumbled, his voice a deep purr that vibrated through the snow and into my very bones. "Even when facing me, you still stepped up to protect the injured woman behind you." There was a genuine note of approval in his tone.
"Thank you. Haah~" I replied, letting out a ragged breath, feeling myself relax slightly, a tiny flicker of hope igniting. Perhaps talking was an option.
"Why are you relaxing now?" he asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in his tone, almost like a puzzled elder.
"The only method I can win against someone your size is through trickery, and if you are smart enough to speak, my tricks will most likely fail," I answered in a carefully flattering tone, hoping to appeal to his ego, or at least his sense of self-preservation. "And since you can talk, then maybe we could talk it out?"
I hope that works, I thought, a desperate plea to the universe.
"Hoh," the Big Guy rumbled, a deep, resonating sound that seemed to shake the very snow. "Though there was a slight intention to flatter me in your words, you didn't lie."
He saw through it!? My internal alarm bells screamed. This creature was far more perceptive than just a talking animal. This was not just a beast; it was an intelligent being.
"So, how about you let us go," I tried again, pressing my luck, desperate to get Heather to safety, "and instead, I have someone send you a large amount of high-quality meat?"
The Tiger's massive head tilted, its piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly, an expression of genuine, almost comical, indignation spreading across its colossal face. "Wait a minute! You thought I was going to eat you!?" His voice held genuine affront, as if I'd suggested something utterly preposterous.
"You were not!?" I asked, a wave of immense relief washing over me, quickly followed by a peculiar sense of bewilderment. That's a relief, a huge relief! But why then? What else could a giant mythical beast want?
"Hell no! Why would I do that, you're disgusting!?" he boomed, his disgust palpable, shaking his massive head.
"What do you mean!?" I asked back, a sudden, indignant flush rising to my cheeks. The relief at not being a meal was instantly overshadowed by this bizarre, unexpected insult.
"I mean humans are bad food," he elaborated, his voice surprisingly reasonable despite its origin. "They have all kinds of diseases like diabetes, cancer, AIDS, and all that. Who knows what eating them will do to my stomach!?"
Though I can't deny what he said, as it is true but I kinda feel insulted.I know he's leaving me alive and all, and I should be grateful for that but not dying because of having been labelled as unhealthy food is a shitty feeling. It's like being downgraded from a being a human at the top of the food chain to low-quality spoiled meat in a bin.
A reluctant "Sorry for misubnderstandin you," escaped my lips, the truth of his reasoning still stinging more than it should.
"Yeah, you should be!" the Big Guy retorted, completely unaffected by my mental complaints. "By the way, I prefer cooked food, particularly seafood and curry." He ended his sentence with an almost contemplative purr.
Really? I thought, my mind spinning even faster now. Cooked food? Seafood? Curry? Where in the desolate Himalayas did he even acquire his taste in such sophisticated cuisine? This just gets weirder and weirder.
"Can I leave now?" I asked, desperately trying to get back on track. I needed to hurry and reach some sort of civilization for a proper medical facility for Heather. Every second we stayed here was a risk.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" the Big Guy inquired, his head cocked, clearly enjoying the bizarre conversation.
"Because I need to get her to a hospital," I said, pointing to Danny's unconscious mother behind me, emphasizing the urgency.