Chapter 4977: Advance on York, Advance (Thirteen)

A short while later, the hotel delivered dinner. Natasha carried out her usual pre-bed security check. Seeing her arrive, Peter called out to her, "Have some food together, ma'am. I know you'll say it's unprofessional, but you know with us around, nothing's going to go wrong."

Natasha seemed about to refuse, but then recalled something. She walked over and inspected the dishes. This hotel's food and lodging standards were high; the delivered fettuccine alfredo and grilled meat with Argentinian chimichurri and parsnips were still faintly steaming, the Maillard reaction just right. The Italian roasted vegetables looked a bit dry, but drizzled with olive oil they were perfect; the whole room was filled with the aroma of food.

Natasha sat down, but didn't seem to have much appetite either, only picking up a few pieces of vegetables and opening a can of cold beer. Peter was already quite used to her cultivation-style diet, but watching him, Shiler frowned deeply. Even if a modified human might not need to eat much, it was still hard to accept that after a day of high-intensity labor, a person could maintain their health on just these few vegetables.

Natasha hadn't come to eat. After a few bites, she looked at Peter, who was tearing into his steak, and said, "Regarding the position of Strategic Security Division chief, what are your thoughts?"

Peter still had steak in his mouth; he stared wide-eyed, frozen there. After thinking for a moment, he said, "Honestly, I'm very satisfied with my current life, but if they really invite me, I'll go. We all have responsibilities we must shoulder."

"They'll definitely invite you. Carter may have already reported upward." Natasha let out a soft sigh. "The Strategic Security Division is the hardest department to run — responsibilities and authority aren't clear enough, and it conflicts with Logistics. It's because Iron Man looks too suspicious that they'd let him lead this department."

"This department was created for him?" Peter asked the key question.

"Not exactly." Natasha shook her head. "It does have its purpose, but I'm afraid my words might be ambiguous; you can go learn the details yourself when the time comes."

"What's your opinion, ma'am? Advising me not to take this hot potato?"

"I'm just here to remind you: Iron Man won't give up the power in his hands so easily. It's still one of the Revival Alliance's direct subordinate departments, after all, and you used to have a decent relationship with him."

"I had a decent relationship with the old Iron Man." Peter lowered his head and said, "But he can't easily shake me, especially on this kind of matter. Besides, the current Iron Man isn't the original one at all; I'm on guard against him."

"He'll definitely try to manipulate you." Natasha said, "Don't believe any talk of persecution complex or mental illness — that's just his way of excusing himself. He might use it to win your sympathy."

"I won't fall for it." Peter said.

"Just not falling for it isn't enough." Natasha speared another vegetable and continued, "As long as you stand in that position, you and Iron Man are opponents. You'll get mixed up in their affairs. Today you managed to restrain both of them, but Tony clearly wasn't going all out, and you know he has plenty of underhanded tricks."

"I'm not afraid." Peter glanced at Shiler, looking exceptionally confident. Natasha obviously knew why, but her expression basically said, "You're choosing between a bear and a trap."

Still, Peter was quite mature by now. Natasha had only come to remind him, not to make the decision for him. She had little appetite; after eating a few vegetables and drinking her beer, she left. Langston left soon after as well, and Shiler and Peter each went to rest.

Early the next morning, Shiler got up and pulled back the curtains, only to be blinded by the sunlight into squinting. Forward York City possessed New York's sunlight, still somewhat different from Gotham's.

Gotham's mornings would have mist; the sunlight wouldn't be particularly intense. Morning light diffused through thin fog, tree shadows blurred, mountain shadows hazy. New York, by contrast, basked in blazing sun from morning on; great clusters of clouds piled on the horizon, the sky always full of colors — from orange to red, then to purple — gradually blending upward.

However, Forward York City still differed from New York City in some ways. For instance, looking down from the hotel's upper floors, the trees below were lush and verdant. The merged city had indeed greatly improved the insufficient street greening of both Gotham and New York. In the distance, the outline of Central Park was still faintly visible — a New York landmark, preserved after all — but beyond that, the streetscape had gained much more green.

Before long, Peter got up too. He looked especially dissipated in the morning: hair a mess, face full of stubble. He vigorously rubbed his face twice, then walked to the shared bathroom to wash up.

After Shiler finished washing up and changed clothes, he met Peter, also freshly changed, in the living room. Neither knew what to say.

"You're wearing that?" Shiler asked.

Peter wore a cartoon T-shirt with a chibi Spider-Man pattern, black-rimmed glasses, and even Crocs on his feet. Shiler, meanwhile, still wore a black three-piece suit.

"Come on." Peter sighed helplessly. "Professor, this visit may include at least two hours of city walking and beach strolling. Today's outdoor temperature probably isn't suitable for dressing like that."

"I thought today was a formal event — everyone sitting in air-conditioned rooms discussing the multiverse situation."

"Depends on who's organizing. If it were Batman, maybe. But this time it might be the External Affairs Department running things; they oppose dull, rigid diplomatic atmospheres and want to show a more youthful, vibrant face to the outside."

"Can tell from the promo video." Shiler thought a moment and said, "Then I'll go change into casual wear."

Shiler wasn't required to wear a suit, but his professional image forbade eccentric dress; he had to wear a suit on duty, and after work he couldn't very well go home to change before going out — so he basically wore a suit both to and from work.

On vacation he'd still change clothes, though — especially for a seaside vacation; wearing a suit would be asking for suffering. He changed into casual wear similar to Peter's. When he came out, Peter nodded with satisfaction and said, "Still missing sunglasses."

"I'm not used to wearing those." Shiler shook his head. Peter didn't press it, just took out his own sunglasses and put them on.

The two went downstairs for breakfast and found most people weren't in formal wear. Shiler was a bit puzzled, since New York and Gotham's dress styles were similar — formal wear practically welded on — and this relaxed style was more like the West Coast, California, where everyone wears shorts and flip-flops.

Not that the climates were entirely different; East Coast summers are hot too. But the elites of East Coast metropolises would rather soak their shirts than give up suits and leather shoes, maintaining that financial-elite look.

The hotel buffet breakfast was middling. Halfway through, Carter rushed in, screeching to a halt in front of them. Shiler saw she was in formal wear and looked a bit hesitant, while Carter instead looked at Shiler with some surprise.

"Oh, good, Professor. I wanted to come earlier to remind you — absolutely do not wear a suit. We have beach strolling and deep-sea fishing activities; formal wear isn't suitable..."

"I already reminded him." Peter glanced at his watch. "Still an hour until the appointed time. Eat something first?"

"No, I still have to go upstairs and notify the other guests." Carter rushed off again.

"Besides us, who else is there?" Shiler asked. He hadn't run into any other multiverse visitors, and they'd come down relatively early; the dining hall was empty at the moment.

"I ran into Thor earlier in the elevator; he looked a bit serious — might be the Central Universe one. Also saw Eddie in the underground parking lot earlier; he seemed to be struggling with Venom again..."

Just as he finished speaking, a couple walked hand in hand into the dining hall. Shiler sized them up and confirmed they should be the Central Universe's King and Queen of the Gods, Thor and Sif. Thor was smiling and saying something to Sif.

Seeing people in the dining hall, they also paused a moment, then walked over to greet them: "Good morning. I thought we were the earliest ones here."

"We're all up early." Peter smiled. "Want to join us for a bite?"

Thor nodded, and also nodded at Shiler in acknowledgment. The two went to select food and returned shortly. Thor assembled a sandwich for Sif, saying quietly, "That chicken breast looks a bit dry. I got you some duck breast instead. Wanted to grab a slice of pizza, but it has oregano on it..."

"I really don't like human chicken breast." Sif lowered her voice. "If a piece of meat doesn't even have the most basic juices, what's the point of eating it?"

"Treat it as a human pica." Thor glanced around and said. "After all, their protein requirements are too high; if protein isn't enough, they still have to take pills to supplement..."

"Cough, cough." Peter coughed twice.

Sif smiled and leaned closer to Thor's ear to say something. Thor listened, frowning repeatedly. Now it was Peter's turn to be curious, but they were a married couple — whispering was normal. Though it looked a bit like gossip, he couldn't just ask directly.

"Oh, God — I mean, Odin!" Carter's exclamation came from behind again. "I see you checked 'pregnant woman' on the guest registration column?!"

She rushed in again. Both looked up at her in unison. Thor nodded and said, "Yes, Sif is pregnant."

Carter's face fell as if the sky had collapsed: "Why didn't you say so in advance?! The hotel hasn't even prepared pregnant-woman meals, and the activity schedule hasn't taken it into account..."

Thor looked speechless: "We're Asgardians. Pregnant women don't need dietary restrictions. And never mind that Sif is in early pregnancy — even in late pregnancy it wouldn't hinder walking..."

"Uh, how many weeks pregnant is she?" Carter asked.

"Weeks?" Thor seemed to be calculating. "Should be over a hundred weeks?"

Carter's expression returned a question mark. Thor shook his head and said, "You clearly don't understand Asgardians well. Our gestation period is much longer than humans', and pregnant women aren't that fragile — they don't lack various nutrients, and it doesn't affect movement."

"Your physiology is your physiology; our preparations are our preparations." Carter let out a long sigh, turned to the side, and said, "Thor, why didn't you tell me in advance?"

"How would I know?" The other Thor appeared at his side and said. "I'm not even married, let alone had kids. How would I know the specifics?"

"But your brother isn't..." Carter stopped mid-sentence. She remembered Loki wasn't biological; Thor probably hadn't seen his mother pregnant with him.

But Thor looked curiously at the other Thor and said, "I heard you succeeded the throne. Asgard will have a new generation of heirs?"

"Had a Crown Princess long ago." The Thor sitting at the table said. "Anyway, rest assured — if there were any danger, neither of us would have come here."

"No need for special meals." Sif also shook her head. "Proceed with activities as normal; there won't be any problems."