Chapter 2952: Leisure Time (33)

Some things feel logical when you don't suspect them, but once you start doubting, you can find a thousand things that don't add up.

First of all, the sashimi brought by the blind lawyer Ma Te was already more than enough for everyone to eat; it could have served as a main course and left them full, not to mention the large amount of meat Steve and Jason had brought.

Under these circumstances, during the worst of Los Angeles' traffic, it seemed far too deliberate for Shiler to drive such a long distance just to buy ingredients and cook.

He and Ma Te were clearly in contact long ago; it was impossible that he didn't know Ma Te would bring enough ingredients. Furthermore, sashimi loses freshness the longer it sits, and the time spent buying ingredients and cooking was excessive—not something a true enthusiast would do.

And most importantly, the Cantonese cuisine Shiler cooked wasn't actually very good—at least, it couldn't compare to the restaurant they were at now.

To be honest, the dishes Shiler stir-fried all tasted like sweet soy sauce. It wasn't exactly "bad," but it certainly wasn't impressive.

If Tim had never eaten authentic food from this place, he might have thought it was quite good. In fact, that was exactly what he thought the night before. Because he hadn't tasted the real thing, he felt Shiler's cooking was decent.

But after eating today, he realized something was wrong.

Of course, it wasn't impossible for Shiler to be a terrible cook who only knew how to eat but not how to prepare food. But Tim thought about it carefully: Shiler himself hadn't eaten much of what he cooked the night before. He knew the food wasn't good, so why did he make it?

Obviously, it was to deceive people.

This was a chain of deceptions. On the way to buy ingredients, Shiler had emphasized his "light palate" and talked about a restaurant he stopped visiting because the chef changed, specifically highlighting his picky taste in food.

Then, he used those ingredients to make a table full of dishes, putting on a show of urgency as if he couldn't wait another day.

Of course, if someone had eaten authentic Cantonese food, they would have realized the level was mediocre. But since everyone at the table had never eaten "fine grains," they all thought it tasted pretty good—at least better than sandwiches—and no one suspected a thing.

All of this led Tim to conclude that his previous investigation was correct: Shiler was actually aiming for the famous Cantonese chef hired for the banquet.

Wait—Tim thought—maybe Shiler wasn't trying to mislead him, but rather, by misleading him, he was misleading others.

Who had he contacted during his investigation?

Jason. And Jason was currently Steve's assistant. In other words, Shiler's series of deceptions was actually meant to make Steve believe he had gone to the banquet for the sake of that Cantonese chef.

Which meant that was definitely not his true purpose.

Then what could it be? Tim wondered, feeling a bit frustrated.

Why was Steve there? Tim remembered it was because the FBI claimed there might be an assassination attempt at the banquet, so he had come to the West Coast to handle security.

Could Shiler be the assassin targeting the congressman?!

That would be interesting, Tim thought excitedly. Shiler wanted to assassinate a congressman?

Such a huge spectacle—if he didn't watch it, he wouldn't be Tim Drake!

But the problem was, there were so many people here now; he couldn't get away, and driving over might not be fast enough.

Just then, Harley stretched and said, "I'm a bit tired. I want to go back and take a nap."

Tim turned the steering wheel and said, "Alright, I'll take you back."

"No need. Barry."

With a flash of gold, the two of them vanished.

At that moment, Peter opened the car window, resting one hand outside. Tim looked in the rearview mirror and was shocked to see Peter wearing a ring identical to Shiler's.

It was the ring that could open portals.

"Peter, if I said Shiler's purpose for going to the banquet wasn't simple, what would you think?"

"Everyone's purpose at every banquet is never simple," Peter replied. "Or rather, you should ask: what kind of purpose for attending a banquet could be called simple? Just going to eat?"

"You sound like a philosopher," Tim commented.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I want to go watch the show," Tim said with a grin. "I have a feeling there's going to be a big surprise at this banquet. Do you want to go?"

Peter stared at Tim through the rearview mirror and shook his head helplessly. "Even if I said no, you'd still go."

"The ring on your hand can open portals, right?"

"It can. Do you want me to take you?"

"Yes."

"Then what's your offer?"

"What?"

"My magic power is precious. Using it isn't cheap. How much are you planning to pay?"

"You are the most vicious Spider-Man I've ever met," Tim used the same evaluation as before.

"Next time I see Bruce, I'll tell him how you evaluate others... or perhaps Alfred?"

"Don't! Damn it, why is everyone so familiar with the Bat-family?!"

Peter laughed and said, "You guys are really famous. As long as you come into contact with one of you, you can imagine what the others are like."

"People in our universe aren't like others... fine, what do you want?"

"I gave my spider-powers to someone else, and now I'm struggling a bit in the Battleworld. Do you have any good equipment blueprints?"

"I can go find some for you, but I can't guarantee you'll be able to build them in this universe."

"That's not something you need to worry about," Peter adjusted his glasses and said.

They returned to the hot spring cabin. In the backyard, they opened a portal. After stepping through, Tim found himself behind a tool shed, less than ten meters from a water well.

This clearly wasn't in the city, because turning past the tool shed, he could see unharvested fields and several large buckets used for collecting rainwater, giving off a damp smell.

Tim sniffed the air and was about to move forward when Peter grabbed him and said, "Where are you going?"

Tim pointed toward the farmhouse ahead. It was a stone building, but it wasn't as small or crude as those found on typical farms; it was more modern, even featuring floor-to-ceiling windows, clearly built later.

"We'll be discovered," Peter said. "If Ma Te is there, you'll be detected the moment you get within 50 meters of him."

"What?"

"Actually, that's only if he's not concentrating. His superpower is 'Heart-Eye.' When fully activated, everything within a thousand meters is under his control."

"What the hell?!" Tim cursed.

"At the banquet, he can't be fully focused. As long as we stay far enough away, it'll be fine," Peter said.

"And Captain America," Tim said, feeling a headache coming on. "He's bringing that group of FBI agents and should be here soon. Where are we supposed to hide then?"

"It's fine. They won't dare go inside. Compared to their personal safety, the people inside are probably more worried about the FBI eavesdropping on their meaningless social pleasantries, so the agents won't get too close."

"I want to know what's happening inside the house," Tim thought for a moment and said. "As long as Ma Te isn't concentrating, as long as we don't make too much noise, it should be fine, right?"

Just as he said this, he noticed Peter had disappeared. Turning his head, he saw Peter handing him a pair of boots while holding a broom and a bucket. "He usually judges a person's appearance by their footsteps. We can put on these boots and disguise ourselves as cleaners; that should work."

Tim recalled that when he and Pamela were eavesdropping, they hadn't paid any attention to their footsteps because they were far away and behind a wall. They had thought just walking a bit lighter was enough respect. Who could have guessed someone could detect intruders from such faint sounds?

He put on the boots, donned the cleaner's jacket, picked up the water bucket and broom, and followed Peter, walking boldly forward.

Sure enough, no one noticed him. Even the suit-wearing politician who walked out of the house to smoke didn't give them a second glance, seeing them only as ordinary cleaners.

Tim knew why. Generally, a banquet of this importance would require a massive logistics team. Early cleaning, managing trash during the event, and recycling kitchen waste afterward—cleaners were the most essential logistics staff.

Because they weren't hosting banquets every day, they usually hired cleaning teams temporarily just before the event started. No one knew anyone else, so naturally, there were no "familiar faces."

In theory, such an important banquet should have had personnel checks.

But since the assassination plot was a self-directed drama by the FBI and the politicians, they naturally knew the truth and didn't believe there could actually be an assassin among the staff, so they probably hadn't checked anyone seriously at all.

The two walked boldly to the back of the house. Before they could find Shiler, Tim heard Ma Te's voice.

He was a bit nervous, but Peter gave him a look and shook his head. They kept their footsteps steady, walking all the way to the outdoor faucet to turn it on, using the sound of the water to whisper to each other.

Tim had seen Ma Te standing with a young man when he walked past the window—that must have been his student, the popular internet lawyer. As for the person opposite them, he didn't recognize him, but judging by their positioning in the room, he had to be a big shot.

Tim didn't see Shiler in the room. After filling the bucket, he signaled toward the second floor, and Peter didn't object. The two carried the bucket and mop into the house.

Sure enough, they were stopped. Peter put on a blank expression and said, "Didn't someone spill juice? Don't we need to clean it up? If not, we'll just..."

The person blocking them was clearly just going through the motions. They didn't call upstairs to confirm if juice had been spilled, but simply let them pass.

Tim shook his head, lamenting how lax the security was. If Shiler could succeed, the organizers of this banquet deserved the credit.

The two walked boldly to the second floor and soon discovered Shiler's trail. But the trouble was, Shiler was pretending to smoke on the second floor, and he wasn't alone, so they couldn't get close.

Peter waved at Tim. Tim moved toward him, and they pretended to mop the hallway floor, entering the nearby restroom. Tim saw a balcony in the restroom, climbed out, and moved to the adjacent balcony, just in time to hear the voices on the balcony where Shiler was standing.

Shiler was on the phone.

"Where are you guys?... Good. Try not to be late. The feast is about to begin."