Chapter 23

Henry found butter lettuce, kale, beefsteak tomatoes, and even heated up the premium Parmesan cheese on the side. Finally, he took out a white bread roll as big as a palm with fingers spread, and cut it in half into top and bottom pieces.

Looking at this setup, Old Black had a constipated look on his face and said, "No, no, no, no! What are you doing with these things? This isn't what I think it is, is it?"

"Aha, you guessed what I want to do."

"You are insulting these ingredients!" Old Black said indignantly. But he didn't reach out to stop him.

Henry smiled and said, "Look, I have steak here, I have three-colored vegetables, I have cheese, and I have bread. Anyone who sees this would think it’s a nutritionally balanced meal, right?"

Old Black struggled for a brief moment, his mouth slightly agape, and reluctantly said, "Yes, that’s right."

He deftly piled the prepared ingredients together, sandwiched them between the bread, and made a burger.

Henry held the burger and laughed, "But why do people think it becomes junk food just because these ingredients are stacked together?"

He really wanted to argue something, but Old Black couldn't find an entry point. He could only struggle on his own, looking sour and uncomfortable.

In fact, he was also thinking in his heart whether this was suitable as a dish.

For the wealthy, beyond the basic requirement of being delicious, sometimes they are eating for the gimmick. It’s the realm of "I have what others don't, and what they have, I have better."

Don't serve this dish often; as an alternative option or a dish for trying something new, this super-premium burger is actually impeccable in every respect.

Ignoring Old Black, who was still deep in thought, Henry found a white porcelain plate, loaded the extra-large burger he had just made, and found a place to sit in the dining area.

He didn't take a knife and fork; this thing has to be eaten with your hands to have that flavor. But before starting, he felt like something was missing.

Looking at the lonely burger, could it be that he still needed to add some cola and fries?

Ah! Fries can be skipped, but how can there be no "fatty happy water" (cola)! It’s like watching a movie without sound; the fun is cut in half directly.

So Henry ran back to the bar area and took a can of Coca-Cola from the refrigerator. Although there were other choices like Pepsi and Fanta, at a time like this, only the cola with the best sperm-killing effect would taste right.

Seeing Old Black’s look of disdain, Henry shrugged, lightly shaking the cola can in his hand and saying, "Without this, it feels like a flavor is missing. Just like French cuisine choosing red or white wine to accompany a meal, a suitable fine wine can take the taste of the meal to the next level."

Old Black said with disgust, "Cola can compare to red wine? This is the biggest reason why burgers are considered junk food, bar none!"

Carbonated drinks are just non-addictive, and the damage to the human body doesn't take effect immediately, that’s all.

But to say how good this stuff is—if you have the guts, try drinking it for every meal. I guarantee you’ll be tortured by symptoms like diabetes and gout until you’re no longer human.

However, Henry’s Kryptonian constitution doesn't fear these things. If his body has any issues, he just flies high into the sky to bask in the sun, and all pain and discomfort will disappear on the spot.

This method has been tried and tested, and he hasn't encountered a situation he couldn't solve yet.

But before he could walk back to his seat, Henry saw his meticulously crafted, extra-large burger now being held in someone else’s hand, with a small half already gone.

Judging by the satisfied expression of the person chewing, there was no need to wonder which dog had eaten the burger.

Henry immediately let out a curse word fitting for the American situation: "Motherfucker! Where the hell did you come from, you dog? You see food and just pick it up and stuff it in your mouth—aren't you fucking afraid I put some man-glue on it and watched you happily eat it down?"

"Fuck." The person eating the burger cursed, then distanced himself from the food in his hand. But he leaned in again, reluctant to let go, sniffed carefully, and said:

"Although I haven't tasted that stuff, I’ve at least smelled it. I’m sure there’s a scent of rosemary in the burger, but no scent of gardenia. So I judge that you said that just to disgust people."

Having said that, the man, as if to demonstrate, held the big burger with both hands, looked Henry in the eye, and took a vicious bite. Then he made a lewd, enjoyable expression, just to piss off the person in front of him.

Henry, as he wished, exploded on the spot. He jumped up and down, saying, "Fuck! Fuck! That was my lunch."

"Hmm, the taste is indeed not bad." Sucking the meat juices off his fingers, the arrogant young man made a punchable expression.

Henry’s Kryptonian iron fist was rarely itching. They say killing one’s parents is an irreconcilable enmity. Stealing one’s food is even worse!

All along, adhering to the principle of living a low-profile life, Henry had hidden his emotions well to avoid losing control and exposing his abilities.

Never did he expect to encounter a young man today who would make him break his defense. Forget beating him up; he had the urge to tear him apart and eat him.

However, Henry still exercised the greatest restraint, squinting his eyes at the young man in front of him, and said, "You’re not part of the production team, are you? I haven't seen you here."

Saying this, Henry remembered he had seen this young man. "...A Caltech student? The one with the idiot who asked that stupid question? So this is the quality of students at world-renowned universities."

Henry’s question, however, didn't make the young man recall the same memory. He just ate the burger nonchalantly, while fishing for the stringy hot cheese, sometimes stuffing it into his mouth, sometimes fishing it back onto the burger.

"Chasing stars all the way to the set—this isn't appropriate, is it? Even if you are a student at a top university, I can call security and have you carried out in a minute. If you don't want to get a few kicks in the ass, I advise you to cooperate obediently."

"You don't know who I am?"

The young man popped out this sentence with pure silliness, which was no less than lighting a fuse on Henry, the big firecracker.

Henry shouted loudly, "Bullshit! Eat my big dick. Do you think you look like a green Benjamin? Does everyone in the world have to know you?"

The young man, who had never been so humiliated, was dumbfounded; even the burger in his mouth didn't taste good anymore. He stared at the person in front of him in a daze, and then he, too, started spitting out foul language.

"Although I don't look like that bald guy Benjamin, I have enough Benjamins—tons of them. Enough to press you into a meat patty. Do you know my power now?"

"Ha, just this much attack power?" Henry sneered and said, "So what if you have more Benjamins? Will you share them with me? —"

The young man shook his head as a matter of course.

"—I thought so. Since you won't give them to me, then it has nothing to do with me, so why should I indulge you, you bastard? Kissing your ass won't get me a single cent. Did I drink too much fake liquor and mistake you for a sugar daddy?"