[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman":3,"chapter-marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-chapter-10":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Marvel: A Lazy-Ass Superman",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1721560,2198,"Chapter 10: A Passion for Film","marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-chapter-10",10,"\u003Cp>\"You really like old movies, huh?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The question came from behind the bar, where Old John was polishing a glass more out of habit than necessity. His eyes were on Henry, not the TV.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They hadn't known each other that long, but John had seen enough to get a feel for the kid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Maybe Henry had secrets. Maybe he wasn't… normal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But John didn't care.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was an old-school kind of man. You lend a hand to the next generation, sure—but what they do with that help? That was their story.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All he asked was honesty, humility, and a willingness to work without whining. The kind of values his generation clung to like gospel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Henry?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For all his quirks, he passed the test.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So when John saw something he didn't understand, he didn't pry—he asked. Simple as that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry had been glued to the tiny CRT TV more than usual. Not the news. Not the weather. The old movies. Black and white classics, grainy reels from decades ago.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And not just once. If something replayed, he'd watch it again. A third time. Still with the same rapt attention.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When John asked, Henry didn't answer right away. His eyes shifted slowly—first one, then the other—like a camera panning away from a scene. Then he turned his head, almost reluctantly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As if waking from a dream.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"…They're beautiful,\" he said finally, voice low.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And he meant it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To a man raised on 21st-century anime girls and high-def Instagram filters, black-and-white films should've felt like ancient fossils. At best, outdated. At worst, unbearably cringe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He'd seen clips online back in the day—over-the-top silent films, Chaplin pratfalls, exaggerated acting that felt more like mime than cinema. He used to laugh at it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But after nearly twenty years in a sterile, lightless lab—with no music, no books, no color, no people—even a scratchy movie on a busted TV screen was a revelation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At first, it was just something to fill the silence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now… it was everything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn't watching for film school aesthetics. He didn't care about camera angles, lighting, or editing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What hooked him was simpler. Purer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The women.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The actresses of Hollywood's Golden Age. Their elegance. Their mystique. Their faces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No filters. No heavy contouring. Just raw, natural charm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He'd been without beauty for so long—his eyes starved for softness, for warmth—that even grayscale radiance felt like sunlight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And one woman in particular stole his breath every time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Audrey Hepburn.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, she was riding shotgun on a Vespa through Rome, her laughter ringing out in glorious black and white. Roman Holiday was playing again, and Henry didn't even try to hide the dreamy look on his face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"She's what real dreams are made of,\" he muttered, gesturing at the screen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>John snorted in agreement. \"Golden Age actresses aren't like the plastic ones we got now. Not every woman who pouts at the camera is a Monroe.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Monroe, huh,\" Henry said, with a raised brow and a half-smile. \"No offense, but I'll take Audrey over Marilyn any day.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn't dissing Monroe directly—but his tone made it clear: class over cleavage, every time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That got a rise out of the regulars.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A chorus of old-man groans and soda-can hisses erupted from around the room.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Kid's got no taste,\" one of them grumbled. \"You ever tried cuddling a stick? Bones'll poke your ribs. Monroe had curves you could drown in.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"She was America's sweetheart,\" another added. \"Audrey looks like she'd vanish if you sneezed too hard.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You fools,\" someone else cut in. \"Garbo. Greta Garbo was the real goddess. Cold as ice, but worth burning for.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Bah, you all lack vision,\" said a gray-bearded man by the jukebox. \"Hedy Lamarr—that woman was pure lust in human form. I saw her once, and I never stopped thinking about her. Not once.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry leaned back, blinking at the bickering chaos. \"Wait, all of you have different top picks? Like, that different?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The men chuckled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Son, it ain't about who's best. It's about knowing what real beauty used to be.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Back when every face on screen didn't look like it came out of a Botox factory.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"These days, anyone with a nose and two eyes gets cast.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"There's too much choice,\" another chimed in. \"Too many options make you forget what good looks like.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Honestly,\" someone muttered, \"I think you lot just argue for sport.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Better than talking about cholesterol.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hey, let a man dream. At our age, it's all we've got.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Dream all you want,\" a voice called from the back. \"But keep it PG and make sure you're home before your wife finds your search history.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then one particularly crusty old-timer added, \"At the rate Hollywood's falling, we'll probably get some square-faced, wide-mouthed goblin as the next leading lady. Big enough to eat the camera lens whole.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The entire bar burst into laughter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Except Henry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry had his head in his hands, groaning softly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Oh God,\" he muttered. \"Don't give them ideas. Just… don't. You guys joke now, but in a few decades… you'll see.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't elaborate. Didn't explain. But his tone sent a ripple of unease through the laughter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was all in good fun—until someone asked:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Say, Henry… If you're that into movies… why not go to Hollywood?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And just like that, the room went quiet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dead quiet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Loving the story so far? Want more chapters? Drop a Power Stone to show your support! A quick review would mean the world too.Thanks, everyone! ❤️\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\u003C\u002Fp>",920,"2026-06-06T15:31:22.263Z",1,"novelbin.me","7ed46816c590ed7038a63f168abdb0133a8e1db7c5a4d832e8b39da0bc1862a7","marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-chapter-11","marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-chapter-9",556,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmarvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-cover.jpg"]