Chapter 1597: Fishing Day (26)

"Your mutant ability just went out of control."

"I didn't..."

"It was very weak, and you stopped it in time, but you did go out of control." Erik's eyes stared closely at Charles and said: "Tell me what you saw."

"No, I didn't see anything." Charles shook his head. He slowly exhaled, letting his heart stop beating so violently. He gripped the armrest of his wheelchair slightly and said: "It was just an accident, I am sure it didn't affect anyone."

Erik's gaze swept over Nick and his party who were chatting on the side. They were still laughing and talking, and it seemed that nothing had been noticed.

Ordinary people are usually insensitive to things happening in the spiritual world. Even if their thinking stopped for a moment at the same time, it is difficult for them to notice that they have been affected.

Charles had mastered his ability perfectly. At the very moment the mind storm just unfolded, he reduced its influence to a degree that was difficult for ordinary people to notice.

"Who did you connect with again?" Erik knew Charles too well. Although it was a question, his tone was very certain, and he continued: "What kind of terrible memory affected you again?"

"Charles." Erik very rarely didn't call Charles by his codename, but directly called his name, which was enough to show his worry. He slowed down his movements and said: "You aren't a young man in his twenties. The facts that can stimulate you now must be incredibly terrifying, but you know, you can tell me as you did then. I will never be scared."

Charles seemed to hesitate for a while. The desire to confide hovered in his heart and moved to his throat, but finally he shook his head and said: "I don't think it has reached such a degree. I think I can go..."

"Is the starch ready?" Nick walked over and asked. He shook the plate in his hand lightly and said: "Wet fried chicken can't be without water starch. The chicken breast has been cut, and it can be put into the pot soon."

Erik handed the bowl in his hand to him. Nick keenly observed that Charles's face was not good, so he asked with concern: "Professor Charles, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

"Nothing, maybe I drank a few sips of cold tea just now, making my stomach uncomfortable." Charles just found an excuse at random, but Nick raised his eyebrows and said somewhat suspiciously: "Could it be that there is something wrong with our water source? Seeing Natasha also said just now that she drank too much cold water and had a stomachache."

Nick shook his head and said in a low voice: "An old Russian woman would have a stomachache because of drinking cold water? I think she was confused by Schiller!"

Charles immediately cast his eyes on Nick's face and asked with a very serious expression: "Seeing Natasha and Schiller...?"

"She calls it hunting." Nick shrugged and said in a tone that was not very approving: "I made a little preparation. I hope they don't mess around too much."

"Where is Seeing Natasha now?"

"She is playing cards with the ladies in the house." Nick smiled and said: "She can actually play with them. Alright, I'm going to heat the oil. There are still a bunch of ingredients waiting to be processed."

Finally, Charles found Seeing Natasha behind the house, but didn't let Seeing Natasha find him. He pushed his wheelchair and moved forward silently along the side of the house, and then heard the voices of Seeing Natasha and Luo Ji in the bushes behind the house.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to stay away from Schiller, Miss Luo Ji. I've already emphasized this to Gwen. We have to have a first-come, first-served basis, right?"

"Come on, Seeing Natasha, are you mistaken?! You have had countless opportunities to catch Schiller in these years, but you gave them all up, and now you jump out to warn me?"

"Believe it or not, he is my prey now. If you don'

"How could you..."

"I will tell Thor that you are trying to climb into Dr. Schiller's bed. Believe me, even if he wants you and Schiller to be a couple, he will never allow you to be so frivolous and rash."

Charles kept making the sign of the cross over his chest, clearly having already imagined a dozen sequels in his mind. Finally, he heard Loki say, "Fine, but I must remind you that unlike men who like wisdom and elegance, Hela is more interested in women full of power. She has her eyes on you."

"You don't need to remind me. Aren't you Asgardians all cut from the same cloth? There is one more thing I must warn you about: Gwen is a minor, and Captain America won't let you mess around."

"Thanks for the reminder. If he comes to find me, I'll tell him you want to hit on him and Agent Carter respectively. You've thought about doing that, right?"

"You're no better when it comes to Hela and Thor."

Ten minutes later, Eric, who was preparing barbecue sauce, saw Charles, looking completely dazed, slowly pushing his wheelchair over.

"What's wrong with you?" Eric asked with a frown.

"God... I mean... God!" Charles opened his mouth wide, then closed it, then leaned back and opened his mouth again: "... God!"

When Charles finally came to his senses, he looked at Eric, almost unable to suppress his desire to spread gossip. Professor X, who was always self-disciplined and polite, finally couldn't hold back this time and decided to indulge himself for once. So he quickly came to Eric's side, lowered his voice, and said, "You have no idea what I just heard..."

After Schiller finished processing the last of the fish for the sautéed fish fillets, he came to the temporary stove Nick had set up to prepare the seasonings for the cooking. At this moment, Thor walked over with long strides, slammed on the brakes in front of the stove, and looked at Schiller with a serious frown.

"What's wrong, Thor?" Schiller looked up.

"Well..." Thor dragged out the sound, his expression relaxing. He rubbed his nose and said, "That, I just wanted to say, actually you know Loki and Sif have some conflicts, and she also had some conflicts with Hela before, so, so..."

Schiller nodded forward, looking at Thor to indicate he was listening. Thor stammered for a long time before saying, "I know the two of them aren't the type to talk behind people's backs, especially Sif; she doesn't even know how many times she's caused trouble for Loki."

"Of course, Loki was a bit nasty before. She ruined Sif's hair and was chased and beaten by Sif, which she deserved. It was the same with Hela; she did some unreasonable things to Hela. It's only right that they are angry."

Thor was quite incoherent, as if his English, which hadn't improved much, had regressed to where it started. He even mixed in some Old English and Asgardian, as if trying hard to make his blunt language sound more tactful.

"Of course." Schiller said while brushing oil onto the pot with a brush, "Everyone's views on others are influenced by their own likes and dislikes, and it is inevitable that they may be unfair. But I believe that the members of the Asgardian royal family are not narrow-minded people. Your bold and straightforward character has a unique charm, and I am certainly willing to bear some rash words for the sake of this charm."

Thor couldn't figure out how anyone could speak so tactfully and politely, but he did miraculously grasp Schiller's meaning. If he were to put it into words, it would probably be: considering that you bunch of brutes are stupidly cute, I won't mind if anyone says anything.

"Uh, no, what I actually meant is, I think your opinion of Loki is quite good, just like that, no need to change it."

Thor searched his brains again to find a few more sentences, trying hard to express his meaning. He believed Schiller could tell.

Whether Schiller heard it or not, at least he acted as if he understood. He nodded, smiled at Thor, and said, "I have always insisted on my own judgment and views and will not absorb unjudged, biased opinions. You don't need to worry about this."

"The meat skewers are ready." Nick walked over and clapped his hands, brushing off the charcoal ash. Apparently, he had just tried grilling two skewers. He said, "The charcoal fire is just right, and some dishes that need to be served hot can be started."

Schiller nodded, wiped the water off his hands with a towel nearby, and then focused on cooking, while Thor muttered something, seemingly still feeling a bit worried.

They set up two tables under the canopy in front of the tent and pushed them together, and then dish after dish was brought to the table.

The main course was steaming charcoal-grilled steak, with the grid marks of the grill branded on the still slightly red beef. This was followed by a large pot of borscht that had been hanging over the fire for a long time, containing plenty of vegetables, especially tomatoes, and that rich, salty-sweet aroma drifted away with the wind.

Gwen's favorite, less-than-healthy fried foods, were also brought out one after another: fried chicken, fried fish, and fried potatoes. The snack platter was served on a large, pristine white porcelain plate, looking colorful, fragrant, and delicious.

This was followed by pasta with tomato sauce, grilled fish rubbed with coarse salt, grilled fish head with cream cheese, and stir-fried raw squid.

Of course, there were a few Chinese dishes made by Schiller: tender and fragrant sautéed fish fillets, stir-fried squid, fresh fish soup, and even a dish of fish head with pancakes.

Nick moved the grill to the side of the dining table, making it convenient to eat while grilling skewers. The skewers came in several flavors: spicy with Mexican hot sauce, plain marinated with black pepper, and sweet and sour with lemon juice and sweet custard sauce, fully catering to the different tastes of different people.

People in the center of the camp began to call their friends, calling back everyone who wasn't there. Steve hung the already-connected string lights on the crossbar in the center of the canopy, making everything look very bright.

The young ladies ran out of the house like the wind. Spider-Gwen was particularly agile; she almost darted to the dining table, sticking her head out like a hungry young beast, sniffing the dishes on the table.

"Careful, don't let your hair fall into the food," Schiller said while distributing plates.

"I'll have a premonition if that happens." Gwen ran to the other side of the table, started looking at the other dishes, took out her phone and snapped a bunch of photos, then started reaching out to call others over for a group photo.

A party always needs a lively person to liven up the atmosphere, and Spider-Gwen was clearly the perfect party atmosphere booster.

She started quickly asking who liked what flavor of food, arranging seats for them, running back to get napkins to place in front of everyone, taking out her phone to let everyone hold their own proud creations for a photo, and then letting everyone gather together for a group photo, weaving through the crowd like an excited dog. If she had a tail right now, it should have been wagging into a blur.

"Calm down for a moment, Miss." Schiller said with some helplessness. He pointed to the seat left empty for Gwen and said, "Sit down and eat."

Spider-Gwen put down her phone with some reluctance and said, "I want all the Spider-Men in the universe to know that I'm eating with you guys. The news has just spread to the 72nd universe."

"I think if you don't put your phone down, the spelling errors in your essay will definitely spread even further."

"Oh god, don't be like that, Dean Schiller. You're making me start to consider transferring to Dean Charles's place!"

When the sky turned completely dark, Nick began to tell the past stories of the Howling Commandos. The atmosphere of memories from the war years didn't last long before Spider-Gwen's high-pitched laughter diluted the faint gray tone, making the pitch-black darkness of the night bright as well.

Ivan drank vodka and talked about his years by Lake Baikal, chatting about the former Soviet Union, which inevitably led to the place where Seeing Natasha was born. The female agent became more talkative as she picked up her glass, intermittently talking about the birch forests and red houses that often appeared in her dreams.

This was far from a luxurious banquet. The burnt smell of the barbecue and the damp breath of the night reminded people of a fireplace gradually going out. In the end, most people drank until they were drunks who wanted to put the moon in their pockets and take it home.

And when Schiller, who was still sober, carried them back to their rooms one by one, he felt a true happiness from this overly ordinary, even somewhat vulgar daily life that made his heart beat more and more powerfully.

This happiness only lasted until Seeing Natasha appeared outside his room door.