Mu Qiu's attempt to change the topic was clumsy, but the Ancient One cooperated and didn't press further.
What someone is willing to say will be said naturally; what they don't wish to reveal won't be revealed, no matter how many questions you ask.
Dropping the conversation, her gaze shifted to the three dishes before her:
a vibrant, artfully arranged vegetable salad,
a steak radiating irresistible aroma,
and a rainbow cocktail that looked as though someone had melted a piece of the sky.
She lifted the cocktail first, taking a small sip.
The moment the liquid touched her tongue, seven flavors bloomed at once—sweet, sour, fruity, crisp, soft, mellow, and bright—colliding in a breathtaking symphony. As she swallowed, warmth spread through her entire body, like sinking into a hot spring while thousands of tiny hands kneaded away her fatigue.
"Hoo…"
She exhaled a soft, sweet breath of alcohol, then gently set the glass back in place.
Something this wonderful should be savored slowly at the end.
Next, she picked up her knife and fork and began on the steak and salad.
Each bite of the vegetables produced a crisp crunch, filling her mouth with refreshing vitality that washed her weariness away.
The steak, rich and fragrant, released a burst of juices with every chew. Its flavor evoked images of vast prairies and warm sunlight—different from the salad and different from the cocktail, yet just as soothing.
"No matter how many times I eat here, the taste is always unforgettable," the Ancient One sighed, feeling her body filled with vibrant energy. She took another bite of salad. "Delicious, strengthens the body… If not for the price, I'd turn this into the exclusive cafeteria for mages."
"Oh? That aligns perfectly with my thoughts. I was planning to have the entire Asgardian army dine here."
Odin—who had appeared at some unknown point and was now seated opposite her—stroked his beard and chuckled.
Asgard, having conquered countless realms in its early years, possessed more wealth than it knew what to do with. As the universe's top-tier civilization, population large and treasury overflowing, money had long since ceased to be something Odin worried about.
The Ancient One might be poor, but Odin absolutely was not.
If anything, he had so much gold it was probably collecting dust.
"Are you two trying to work me to death?"
Hearing their casual banter, Mu Qiu rolled his eyes.
You old fox! I set my prices high partly to earn money faster, and partly so I wouldn't collapse from exhaustion. And now you want to turn my place into an army mess hall? That's too much!
Just because you're rich doesn't mean you can do whatever you want!
"Well, it's just a joke. Don't take it seriously."
Odin waved his hand, chuckling. His gentle expression held not even a trace of the terrifying presence of the King of Asgard. He accepted the food Mu Qiu served him with the ease of a kindly grandfather.
But anyone who mistook him for an ordinary old man would quickly regret it.
They had all seen how he acted the first time he visited—arriving on an eight-legged celestial horse, lightning raging around him, aura deep as the ocean, and Gungnir in hand as though ready to smite someone on the spot.
Then, after witnessing his own thunderbolt strike a wooden bench without leaving even a scratch…
He instantly switched to his "kindly old man" persona.
Mu Qiu's worldview had nearly collapsed that day.
Though most patrons tested the restaurant after receiving the system's instilled information, Odin's dramatic shift left an especially deep impression.
To this day, Mu Qiu still looked at him with lingering suspicion, always feeling the old man was plotting something.
While these thoughts ran through his head, Mu Qiu wasn't idle. He quickly put together several small dishes and carried them to the window table in the corner.
There sat three people:
Ichiryu,
Jirou,
and Setsuno.
They were from the Gourmet World—its highest authorities and most legendary chefs.
Their power alone eclipsed even the Ancient One and Odin.
Unlike them, however, these three weren't here for Mu Qiu's skill or ingredients.
They were gourmands who had tasted nearly every delicacy in the Gourmet World; what interested them were novelty and ingredients from other worlds.
Every day, at the same time, the three visited, ordered a few light dishes, and spent hours reminiscing. Eating was secondary.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, someone was having a miserable day.
At S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters
Nick Fury was suffering.
His agents had found zero leads on the mastermind behind Tony Stark's kidnapping.
Coulson, sent to contact Stark, had been cleanly shaken off.
And the researchers examining the bodies from the valley brought back nothing but bad news.
The nonstop stream of misfortune made Fury wonder if he had offended God—and if God was now taking it personally.
"Knock, knock, knock."
"Come in."
Fury rubbed his face, forcing himself back into the role of the stern director.
An agent entered, placed a thick stack of reports on the desk, and began briefing him as Fury flipped through the documents.
"Based on combined field intelligence, there was a battle in the valley. One side was the bandits, the other was an unknown force. The unknown force appears to have been a single individual—likely superpowered. The bandits suffered total defeat; some died, some vanished. As for Stark, he may have a connection with the unknown party."
The report was organized and clear.
Nick Fury's expression didn't change, but internally he was extremely unimpressed.
Anyone who looked at the scene could've figured this out. Do we really need paperwork for this?
His irritation grew. His tone became heavier without him realizing.
"Anything else?"
"Uh… no."
The agent blinked, then shook his head.
He'd simply repeated what was written—nothing more.
"You're dismissed. Have your team continue investigating this unknown individual."
Fury's voice was as flat as a closed door.
After the agent left, Fury skimmed through several pages again, folded his hands under his chin, and muttered:
"To find out who this unknown person is… I'll have to start with Tony Stark."
But investigating someone with no leads—or getting information out of the infamously temperamental Stark—was easier said than done.
"What a headache…"
The ever-serious Director Fury pressed his temples.
As for Stark himself…
The "ill-tempered Stark" was currently spacing out.
In front of him lay fifty or sixty half-eaten hamburgers from different stores.
Ever since tasting Mu Qiu's hamburgers, every other hamburger felt wrong—as though once he had experienced true delicacy, ordinary food had become tasteless and hollow.
"That guy definitely put something in the hamburger… Something that makes it unforgettable."
Stark muttered.
Yinsen, sitting opposite him, nodded gravely in agreement.
Pepper Potts stood beside them, utterly bewildered.
Chapter 5: A Three-Sided Situation
Mu Qiu's attempt to change the topic was clumsy, but the Ancient One cooperated and didn't press further.
What someone is willing to say will be said naturally; what they don't wish to reveal won't be revealed, no matter how many questions you ask.
Dropping the conversation, her gaze shifted to the three dishes before her:
a vibrant, artfully arranged vegetable salad,
a steak radiating irresistible aroma,
and a rainbow cocktail that looked as though someone had melted a piece of the sky.
She lifted the cocktail first, taking a small sip.
The moment the liquid touched her tongue, seven flavors bloomed at once—sweet, sour, fruity, crisp, soft, mellow, and bright—colliding in a breathtaking symphony. As she swallowed, warmth spread through her entire body, like sinking into a hot spring while thousands of tiny hands kneaded away her fatigue.
"Hoo…"
She exhaled a soft, sweet breath of alcohol, then gently set the glass back in place.
Something this wonderful should be savored slowly at the end.
Next, she picked up her knife and fork and began on the steak and salad.
Each bite of the vegetables produced a crisp crunch, filling her mouth with refreshing vitality that washed her weariness away.
The steak, rich and fragrant, released a burst of juices with every chew. Its flavor evoked images of vast prairies and warm sunlight—different from the salad and different from the cocktail, yet just as soothing.
"No matter how many times I eat here, the taste is always unforgettable," the Ancient One sighed, feeling her body filled with vibrant energy. She took another bite of salad. "Delicious, strengthens the body… If not for the price, I'd turn this into the exclusive cafeteria for mages."
"Oh? That aligns perfectly with my thoughts. I was planning to have the entire Asgardian army dine here."
Odin—who had appeared at some unknown point and was now seated opposite her—stroked his beard and chuckled.
Asgard, having conquered countless realms in its early years, possessed more wealth than it knew what to do with. As the universe's top-tier civilization, population large and treasury overflowing, money had long since ceased to be something Odin worried about.
The Ancient One might be poor, but Odin absolutely was not.
If anything, he had so much gold it was probably collecting dust.
"Are you two trying to work me to death?"
Hearing their casual banter, Mu Qiu rolled his eyes.
You old fox! I set my prices high partly to earn money faster, and partly so I wouldn't collapse from exhaustion. And now you want to turn my place into an army mess hall? That's too much!
Just because you're rich doesn't mean you can do whatever you want!
"Well, it's just a joke. Don't take it seriously."
Odin waved his hand, chuckling. His gentle expression held not even a trace of the terrifying presence of the King of Asgard. He accepted the food Mu Qiu served him with the ease of a kindly grandfather.
But anyone who mistook him for an ordinary old man would quickly regret it.
They had all seen how he acted the first time he visited—arriving on an eight-legged celestial horse, lightning raging around him, aura deep as the ocean, and Gungnir in hand as though ready to smite someone on the spot.
Then, after witnessing his own thunderbolt strike a wooden bench without leaving even a scratch…
He instantly switched to his "kindly old man" persona.
Mu Qiu's worldview had nearly collapsed that day.
Though most patrons tested the restaurant after receiving the system's instilled information, Odin's dramatic shift left an especially deep impression.
To this day, Mu Qiu still looked at him with lingering suspicion, always feeling the old man was plotting something.
While these thoughts ran through his head, Mu Qiu wasn't idle. He quickly put together several small dishes and carried them to the window table in the corner.
There sat three people:
Ichiryu,
Jirou,
and Setsuno.
They were from the Gourmet World—its highest authorities and most legendary chefs.
Their power alone eclipsed even the Ancient One and Odin.
Unlike them, however, these three weren't here for Mu Qiu's skill or ingredients.
They were gourmands who had tasted nearly every delicacy in the Gourmet World; what interested them were novelty and ingredients from other worlds.
Every day, at the same time, the three visited, ordered a few light dishes, and spent hours reminiscing. Eating was secondary.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, someone was having a miserable day.
At S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters
Nick Fury was suffering.
His agents had found zero leads on the mastermind behind Tony Stark's kidnapping.
Coulson, sent to contact Stark, had been cleanly shaken off.
And the researchers examining the bodies from the valley brought back nothing but bad news.
The nonstop stream of misfortune made Fury wonder if he had offended God—and if God was now taking it personally.
"Knock, knock, knock."
"Come in."
Fury rubbed his face, forcing himself back into the role of the stern director.
An agent entered, placed a thick stack of reports on the desk, and began briefing him as Fury flipped through the documents.
"Based on combined field intelligence, there was a battle in the valley. One side was the bandits, the other was an unknown force. The unknown force appears to have been a single individual—likely superpowered. The bandits suffered total defeat; some died, some vanished. As for Stark, he may have a connection with the unknown party."
The report was organized and clear.
Nick Fury's expression didn't change, but internally he was extremely unimpressed.
Anyone who looked at the scene could've figured this out. Do we really need paperwork for this?
His irritation grew. His tone became heavier without him realizing.
"Anything else?"
"Uh… no."
The agent blinked, then shook his head.
He'd simply repeated what was written—nothing more.
"You're dismissed. Have your team continue investigating this unknown individual."
Fury's voice was as flat as a closed door.
After the agent left, Fury skimmed through several pages again, folded his hands under his chin, and muttered:
"To find out who this unknown person is… I'll have to start with Tony Stark."
But investigating someone with no leads—or getting information out of the infamously temperamental Stark—was easier said than done.
"What a headache…"
The ever-serious Director Fury pressed his temples.
As for Stark himself…
The "ill-tempered Stark" was currently spacing out.
In front of him lay fifty or sixty half-eaten hamburgers from different stores.
Ever since tasting Mu Qiu's hamburgers, every other hamburger felt wrong—as though once he had experienced true delicacy, ordinary food had become tasteless and hollow.
"That guy definitely put something in the hamburger… Something that makes it unforgettable."
Stark muttered.
Yinsen, sitting opposite him, nodded gravely in agreement.
Pepper Potts stood beside them, utterly bewildered.
Chapter 5: A Three-Sided Situation
Mu Qiu's attempt to change the topic was clumsy, but the Ancient One cooperated and didn't press further.
What someone is willing to say will be said naturally; what they don't wish to reveal won't be revealed, no matter how many questions you ask.
Dropping the conversation, her gaze shifted to the three dishes before her:
a vibrant, artfully arranged vegetable salad,
a steak radiating irresistible aroma,
and a rainbow cocktail that looked as though someone had melted a piece of the sky.
She lifted the cocktail first, taking a small sip.
The moment the liquid touched her tongue, seven flavors bloomed at once—sweet, sour, fruity, crisp, soft, mellow, and bright—colliding in a breathtaking symphony. As she swallowed, warmth spread through her entire body, like sinking into a hot spring while thousands of tiny hands kneaded away her fatigue.
"Hoo…"
She exhaled a soft, sweet breath of alcohol, then gently set the glass back in place.
Something this wonderful should be savored slowly at the end.
Next, she picked up her knife and fork and began on the steak and salad.
Each bite of the vegetables produced a crisp crunch, filling her mouth with refreshing vitality that washed her weariness away.
The steak, rich and fragrant, released a burst of juices with every chew. Its flavor evoked images of vast prairies and warm sunlight—different from the salad and different from the cocktail, yet just as soothing.
"No matter how many times I eat here, the taste is always unforgettable," the Ancient One sighed, feeling her body filled with vibrant energy. She took another bite of salad. "Delicious, strengthens the body… If not for the price, I'd turn this into the exclusive cafeteria for mages."
"Oh? That aligns perfectly with my thoughts. I was planning to have the entire Asgardian army dine here."
Odin—who had appeared at some unknown point and was now seated opposite her—stroked his beard and chuckled.
Asgard, having conquered countless realms in its early years, possessed more wealth than it knew what to do with. As the universe's top-tier civilization, population large and treasury overflowing, money had long since ceased to be something Odin worried about.
The Ancient One might be poor, but Odin absolutely was not.
If anything, he had so much gold it was probably collecting dust.
"Are you two trying to work me to death?"
Hearing their casual banter, Mu Qiu rolled his eyes.
You old fox! I set my prices high partly to earn money faster, and partly so I wouldn't collapse from exhaustion. And now you want to turn my place into an army mess hall? That's too much!
Just because you're rich doesn't mean you can do whatever you want!
"Well, it's just a joke. Don't take it seriously."
Odin waved his hand, chuckling. His gentle expression held not even a trace of the terrifying presence of the King of Asgard. He accepted the food Mu Qiu served him with the ease of a kindly grandfather.
But anyone who mistook him for an ordinary old man would quickly regret it.
They had all seen how he acted the first time he visited—arriving on an eight-legged celestial horse, lightning raging around him, aura deep as the ocean, and Gungnir in hand as though ready to smite someone on the spot.
Then, after witnessing his own thunderbolt strike a wooden bench without leaving even a scratch…
He instantly switched to his "kindly old man" persona.
Mu Qiu's worldview had nearly collapsed that day.
Though most patrons tested the restaurant after receiving the system's instilled information, Odin's dramatic shift left an especially deep impression.
To this day, Mu Qiu still looked at him with lingering suspicion, always feeling the old man was plotting something.
While these thoughts ran through his head, Mu Qiu wasn't idle. He quickly put together several small dishes and carried them to the window table in the corner.
There sat three people:
Ichiryu,
Jirou,
and Setsuno.
They were from the Gourmet World—its highest authorities and most legendary chefs.
Their power alone eclipsed even the Ancient One and Odin.
Unlike them, however, these three weren't here for Mu Qiu's skill or ingredients.
They were gourmands who had tasted nearly every delicacy in the Gourmet World; what interested them were novelty and ingredients from other worlds.
Every day, at the same time, the three visited, ordered a few light dishes, and spent hours reminiscing. Eating was secondary.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, someone was having a miserable day.
At S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters
Nick Fury was suffering.
His agents had found zero leads on the mastermind behind Tony Stark's kidnapping.
Coulson, sent to contact Stark, had been cleanly shaken off.
And the researchers examining the bodies from the valley brought back nothing but bad news.
The nonstop stream of misfortune made Fury wonder if he had offended God—and if God was now taking it personally.
"Knock, knock, knock."
"Come in."
Fury rubbed his face, forcing himself back into the role of the stern director.
An agent entered, placed a thick stack of reports on the desk, and began briefing him as Fury flipped through the documents.
"Based on combined field intelligence, there was a battle in the valley. One side was the bandits, the other was an unknown force. The unknown force appears to have been a single individual—likely superpowered. The bandits suffered total defeat; some died, some vanished. As for Stark, he may have a connection with the unknown party."
The report was organized and clear.
Nick Fury's expression didn't change, but internally he was extremely unimpressed.
Anyone who looked at the scene could've figured this out. Do we really need paperwork for this?
His irritation grew. His tone became heavier without him realizing.
"Anything else?"
"Uh… no."
The agent blinked, then shook his head.
He'd simply repeated what was written—nothing more.
"You're dismissed. Have your team continue investigating this unknown individual."
Fury's voice was as flat as a closed door.
After the agent left, Fury skimmed through several pages again, folded his hands under his chin, and muttered:
"To find out who this unknown person is… I'll have to start with Tony Stark."
But investigating someone with no leads—or getting information out of the infamously temperamental Stark—was easier said than done.
"What a headache…"
The ever-serious Director Fury pressed his temples.
As for Stark himself…
The "ill-tempered Stark" was currently spacing out.
In front of him lay fifty or sixty half-eaten hamburgers from different stores.
Ever since tasting Mu Qiu's hamburgers, every other hamburger felt wrong—as though once he had experienced true delicacy, ordinary food had become tasteless and hollow.
"That guy definitely put something in the hamburger… Something that makes it unforgettable."
Stark muttered.
Yinsen, sitting opposite him, nodded gravely in agreement.
Pepper Potts stood beside them, utterly bewildered.
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