Chapter 4848: The Little Ghost in Charge (Forty-Six)

After the pool was cleaned, the kids all jumped in. Not knowing how to swim didn't matter — they could fly, and weren't too affected by Earth's gravity. To them, the swimming pool was just a big hot spring; simply soaking and splashing around in it was plenty entertaining.

And since they'd finished their homework, the parents couldn't stop them from playing, so they simply left two people by the pool to watch them and let them play to their hearts' content. The rest returned to the manor to help Greed arrange furniture.

The furniture Greed selected was also in a medieval style, blending well with the house. Then placing his ornaments on top added a few touches of strange charm to the elegance, making it look a bit like a castle that would appear in an MGM-style cartoon.

The kids could play on their own, and the work was all done. Everyone gathered in the living room to watch the excitement. Frontline reporter Stark had already arrived at the scene where the witches and Shi'ar nobles fought; the fight was over by now, but the surroundings were still a mess.

The witches didn't know anything about protecting the environment — they went all out right from the start. The road surface within a range of several dozen meters had been ripped up, and the surrounding lawns and trees were also badly damaged. There were many bloodstains on the ground, but they looked like they belonged to aliens. Clearly, the Shi'ar Empire had taken a heavy beating here.

Stowing his armor, Stark walked over to investigate, only to spot a group of people peeking out furtively from the roadside — the Alverses among them. Perhaps because Alverse was an outsider who hadn't been here long, or perhaps the two of them simply had great luck and had avoided the previous paranormal outbreaks — in any case, they were both still alive.

"Hey, Tony," Alverse called out, "what's going on? Who are the Avengers fighting this time?"

"Which eye of yours saw us fighting?" Stark didn't give him an inch. "I heard the commotion and came to check. I'd like to ask you lot — did you see who was fighting here?"

"We just heard some noise," Mrs. Alverse said. "Sounded like gunfire — the kind with flashing laser guns — and some sort of bird screeching."

"Your ears are pretty sharp." Stark glanced at the scene again. "Looks like the Shi'ar side lost people. Not surprising, though — those nobles can use divine power, but their physical durability is nowhere near the Asgardians'. The earlier mutant power outbursts killed plenty of people; these superpowered witches launching a surprise attack causing casualties is normal."

Stark weighed it and figured the nobles wouldn't make a public fuss but would seek revenge privately, so he told the Alverses, "Someone's taken over Augustus's house."

"What?!" Mrs. Alverse's eyebrows shot up. "Don't tell me a vagrant broke in?! What are the police eating?!"

The two hurried off, clearly to verify the situation and call the police. In a community like theirs, a vagrant slipping in would be terrifying. On one hand, a drugged-up vagrant might shoot and kill, threatening their personal safety; on the other, once seen, the neighborhood's property values would definitely drop.

With so many dead already, the community value had taken a huge hit. Can't handle ghosts, but can't handle vagrants either?

Too bad — the ones occupying the house this time really weren't ordinary people. Stark, flying overhead, saw the police Alverse summoned quickly surround Augustus's manor, charge in aggressively, then come scrambling out in a panic.

The Shi'ar obviously weren't planning to let it go either. The police had barely fled when Stark spotted Shi'ar mechanical birds circling above the manor. The alien nobles had already found the witches' lair; a surprise retaliatory strike was inevitable.

The locals weren't pushovers either. Stark saw the Alverses rally many people — mainly because the string of paranormal and violent events had shaken things up, alerting the owners of ancient manors hidden deep in the Hamptons. They might not care about housing prices, but they couldn't ignore their family members' safety.

Money makes the mare go — though where paranormal phenomena were concerned, the ghosts they hired weren't great at grinding, some even grinding backwards. But the conflict with the witches didn't really involve good and evil — or rather, to many superhumans, these witches who came from nowhere and suddenly seized someone's house were the evil ones. The wealthy spent a fortune hiring quite a few superhumans.

Among them were the famous New Warriors, Blade, and even mutants. The whole Hamptons situation grew even more chaotic — a full-blown superhuman urban battle of no small intensity centered on the Augustus manor. You didn't even need Stark to fly to the front lines; standing at the Rodriguez manor's gate and looking down, you could see it all.

Steve stood at the gate sighing, wanting to go down and help but not knowing which side to back. Watching them wreck public facilities made him sick all over; in the end he could only go call Carter on video.

As for Bucky, he had more ways to kill time. Clearly he hadn't given up on Natasha, sidling over to her every so often. And Natasha, fueled by alcohol, started taking an interest in the Punisher Frank. Or maybe she'd always liked that cold, ruthless type of tough guy — too bad Frank was impervious to charm, and the Black Widow's allure couldn't sway him.

And the biggest problem — Steve and Frank got along terribly, to the point of being at daggers drawn, one raising his shield, the other drawing his gun.

By rights, both were old soldiers; even if they didn't click, it shouldn't have come to this. But some people just have clashing auras — their mutual dislike was nearly on par with Stark and Strange.

Stark and Strange just liked to argue; these two old soldiers were different — they'd spar at the drop of a hat. The huge backyard became their arena, Bucky cheering on one side, Natasha running bets on the other — lively as could be.

And what pleased Greed most was that Peter could finally get in. He also brought a batch of equipment for building a shuttle station on the mountainside, which was very important. The nearest shuttle station to the Hamptons was some distance away; private shuttles could land but lacked maintenance and repair facilities — a simple station helped enormously.

Peter was a bit puzzled, though, and asked, "What happened here? Why are they fighting down there?"

"Oh, you didn't join in?" Greed asked while helping him set up the equipment.

"No, because if it were bullying, Cap would've stepped in long ago. He's not down there breaking it up, so that means none of the sides fighting down there are any good."

Greed gave him a thumbs-up. A shield whooshed past his head; Peter looked back — Steve and Frank were at it again.

"Hey! Hey!" Peter shouted. "Frank, what are you doing here? What are you two up to?"

Peter obviously knew the Punisher too, because he was close with Matt. Peter was still little Jack's godfather; all told, Peter had been providing tech support to the Punisher and Daredevil, and much of the high-tech gear they used was made by Peter Parker.

Seeing Peter, Frank hurriedly holstered his gun. He greeted Peter: "Peter, what brings you here?"

New York's superheroes all moved in the same circle, so running into each other wasn't strange. Peter said, "Is your Hamptons job done? How are your enemies holding up?"

"They've all been called home by the Lord." Frank glanced at Steve, walked toward Peter, and said, "That portable tracker you gave me last time had a bit of an issue — come take a look at what's wrong..."

Steve stared at their retreating backs, brow deeply furrowed. He did feel some displeasure at Peter mixing with Frank, but Peter was an adult now; no one could interfere with his friendships.

Steve grabbed a beer, sat on the threshold. Greed came over and sat beside him, then said, "You holding up, Cap?"

Steve took a swig, shook his head. Greed didn't console or lecture; he just said, "The Hamptons situation is too chaotic. I think we can intervene a little."

"The wealthy will eventually come after Frank. Because even though he's killed plenty, he stepped up during the paranormal outbreak — his strength is undeniable. The rich will pay to hire him against the witches."

"And you, Captain America, leader of the Avengers, an outstanding navigator — your reputation for justice echoes across the stars; the Shi'ar nobles have heard of it too. They'll also come looking for you eventually, to have you mete out justice for them."

"Both sides want to target the witches, but if they do, S. H. I. E. L. D.'s pressure will be huge. But if internal conflicts arise between them, the waters get muddier. You can also outmaneuver Frank in strategic vision and tactical deployment, proving you're the one in the right — isn't that so?"

Steve crushed the beer can, looked at Greed, and said, "I'm sorry, but I oppose war — I'm afraid I can't help."

"No matter," Greed smiled. "Good thing there's something else you can help with — let's go down to the sea together and haul that sea monster up. Too many superhumans wandering around here lately; I'm afraid it'll be discovered."

Steve's hand froze. He glanced back at the Hamptons below, then up at Frank. Let him go fish for a sea monster?

"You two either go down the mountain together, or go down to the sea together."

"I have no other choice."

"Exactly."

The two left soon after. Despite their bad blood, going down to fight a proxy war still beat going to sea to haul up a sea monster. In the end, it was Pride and Greed who went down and fished the thing up.

Greed froze it with an ice spear and kept it in the basement — it'd definitely come in handy later. But because the thing was fairly large, laying it flat on the floor took up too much space, leaving no room for many other things. Greed had a lot of storage — seven or eight freezers alone, all packed with fresh ingredients flash-frozen into dense ice.

Greed thought a bit, then stood it upright, leaning it in a corner. But since the sea monster was ring-shaped, propping it up like that looked like a funeral wreath — too inauspicious. No choice left, Greed could only hang it from the ceiling, so it wouldn't take up floor space.