Chapter 5740: Chapter 4763: X Royal Family: Rebirth (Part 3)

Quicksilver walked in carrying big bags. After placing the food on the table, he smiled and nodded at them, saying, "Enjoy your meal, gentlemen. If there’s anything you need, just call me."

"Wait a minute," Shiller called out to him, "aren’t you going to introduce the dishes?"

Quicksilver tilted his head but stayed. Once he opened the packaging, Shiller understood why Quicksilver was puzzled. Because all the takeaway was fast food, and it looked like frozen pre-prepared meals. Like those frozen fried chicken wings that you just need to refry to make a dish.

"Is this all?" Shiller asked.

Quicksilver seemed a bit embarrassed, scratching his head he said, "Transporting materials from outside isn’t very convenient. Frozen food keeps longer. Of course, we know it’s not great to serve this to guests, if you’re not in a rush, I can go to the mainland to buy some for you."

"You don’t have fresh meat and vegetables?" Peter asked, somewhat puzzled.

Quicksilver shook his head and said, "No, we buy everything from outside. It’s all delivered to the island by the Hellfire Group’s cargo ships. Previously, conditions in Clarkia weren’t great, and there weren’t many places willing to sell us things, so there’s not much fresh food. It might improve later."

"Can’t you grow your own?" Shiller raised his eyes to ask, "I saw a very flat piece of land on the east side of the island earlier, can’t you use it to grow vegetables?"

Quicksilver seemed stunned by his question, as if the thought of growing their own vegetables had never crossed his mind. He opened his mouth, seemingly about to say something, but he didn’t, and the others could probably guess what it was.

Previously, where these mutants lived, growing vegetables was generally not allowed. Not to mention the West, not everyone in the East has fields either. Few have yards, and most mutants here have never grown anything themselves.

Moreover, after coming here, they faced too many issues, needing to build houses and deal with external crises. They all knew it was a difficult time, and being able to make do with food was already good enough, with no higher expectations.

"If you put it that way, we could indeed grow something," Quicksilver thought for a moment and said, "but we’re not really good at it. The only plant I raised was a cactus, and it died because I over-watered it. Rogue loves flowers though, maybe I can ask her?"

"They’re not really the same thing," Shiller sighed and said, "Alright, I’ll take a look at that plot tomorrow. Let’s start with potatoes."

"By the way," he added, "can you fish in the lake?"

Matt asked in a low voice, "Aren’t they considered protected species?"

"Protected animals are for me to protect animals."

"You want to eat fish?" Quicksilver thought for a moment and said, "You can fish, but are you sure you can handle what you catch?"

Shiller sent him a questioning look with his expression. Quicksilver shrugged and said, "There are many magical creatures on this island. Most of the harmful land creatures have been driven out, but the ones in the lake haven’t. If you’re going fishing, make sure to bring weapons."

Matt also touched his forehead helplessly. Most of the fish that put up a fight have little meat and lots of bones, the energy expended would hardly be worth the taste.

"What about fruits? Aren’t there any fruits on the trees?" Steve asked, "I saw some bushes that look like raspberries on the way over. Have you tried picking them?"

"We’ve been a bit busy lately," Quicksilver said, somewhat embarrassed, "I’ll try to find someone to give it a go tomorrow."

"No worries, you go about your business." Stark, who had just arrived, waved his hand, "After all, we have nothing to do, we can help you try it out."

"That works," Quicksilver said, "Previously, because of things outside, the island’s construction nearly came to a halt, letting it stay this way isn’t a solution either. We really need to find a way to be self-sufficient here."

"Every beginning is difficult," Steve said, "but once you get past this hurdle, everything will get better."

After Quicksilver left, everyone started eating. They weren’t too picky about the fast food; it was just to fill their stomachs. But the alcohol really made them want to vomit. Not to mention there was no ice; every type of booze tasted off. The beer was as bland as water, whiskey was harsh and throat-burning, sweet wine was a blast of industrial flavoring. It wasn’t them being picky—Matt and Peter usually bought the most ordinary kind from the convenience store, and they had no idea where the mutants got all this awful booze.

With the alcohol undrinkable and the long night ahead with no desire to sleep, they could only lounge around on the living room sofa and chat.

"Did you just call him a mutant?" Charles was the first to voice his curiosity. He was referring to when Strange called Shiller "Mr. Mutant" earlier.

"You didn’t know? On the interstellar council’s employee roster, he listed his race as mutant, to explain his superpower that resembles a mind-reading technique." Strange rolled his eyes.

Charles wriggled a bit on the sofa, straightened up slightly, and said, "But he registered as a magician in the Andromeda Galaxy."

Both of them looked at Shiller. Shiller coughed twice and said, "You give yourself your own identity when traveling. Mainly because I told the interstellar council I was a magician, but in the Andromeda Galaxy I said I was a mutant, and you didn’t agree either."

Both of them rolled their eyes and turned away. Shiller then waved his hand somewhat perfunctorily and said, "Okay, okay, to be honest, I was bitten by a spider."

Peter widened his eyes and looked over at him, "Doctor, if you’re making up stories, at least put some heart into it. How could Spider-Man have mind-reading powers?"

"Isn’t Spider-sense almost similar?"

"Sorry," Peter said, "now the Spider Legion has a complete identity registration system, and the only Spider-Man registered in the Central Universe is me. It seems you’re not going to fit in, Doctor. Unless..."

"Unless?"

"I brought a spider, do you want to be bitten by it?" 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

This time Shiller’s eyes widened, "You carry around the spider that bit you?!"

"Of course not the one that bit me. Actually, it’s a little pet for Spider Legion communication." After saying that, Shiller watched as Peter somehow pulled out an orange baboon spider as large as an adult’s palm.

"It’s hairy too, quite cute, right?"

Shiller glanced at the front two chelicerae of the baboon spider, swallowed hard, and turned to Matt: "Where did you learn your martial arts?"

Steve lay on the sofa supporting his head with his hand as he laughed and said, "I still remember the address of the laboratory where they injected me with serum back in the day. I’ll send it to you later. You can see if you can still catch up."

Everyone burst into laughter. But Stark piped up: "Mind Reading Technique, it’s all scientific psychology theories. Don’t listen to them, Shiller, science always opens its doors to you."

"Sorry, I’m not going in." Shiller also rolled his eyes and said, "If I were willing to admit that this skill could be passed down and learned as science, I’d probably be stuck in an office doing research for results forever."

"Speaking of which," Stark turned over on the sofa, "I saw some major construction happening by the bay, what are they doing?"

"Of course, they’re building a port," Shiller said, "To facilitate logistics and to enhance Clarkia’s international status, they’re constructing a large deepwater port."

Stark flipped back, resting his arm on his head: "But that place isn’t very good. Although everyone thinks that kind of bay is most suitable for port construction, actually, that’s not the case. The other side with cliffs is better."

"Maybe they have their considerations too." Steve fiddled with a beer can, "Besides, they’ve already started, it’s too late to say anything now, right?"

"I’ll remind them," Stark said, "Mutants don’t struggle with construction, there’s still time to change."

"Feels like you’re just looking for work." Shiller said.

Stark stared at the ceiling blankly: "You’re not wrong. Ever since Little Morgan was born, I haven’t been able to get back to the lab. I sometimes miss those days of working tirelessly."

"You’re crazy." Matt evaluated briefly and objectively.

Stark’s head remained still, but his eyes turned to look at him. Resentment from Matt, as a working man, almost took solid form as he picked up a paper tissue pack beside him and threw it at Stark.

"Who would ever miss days of working tirelessly? If someone does, they must be truly mad."

"Shiller would definitely support me." Stark turned to look at Shiller again.

Shiller nodded and said, "When your work is driven by passion, you certainly will miss it. Honestly, Matt, do you really have to wrestle with being a lawyer?"

Matt sighed deeply. Strange spoke up defensively: "Don’t suggest a career change to him. Everyone knows Murdoch is now the human race’s ace lawyer, we win repeatedly in the Milky Way’s highest court thanks to Matt."

"Really?" Steve was curious, "Are those legal disputes in interstellar society tougher? Can you really win repeatedly?"

"Absolutely. Those with better skills aren’t as good at litigation as him, those who are better at litigation don’t have his gun skills, those with better gun skills don’t have his connections, and those with stronger connections don’t have my skills."

Everyone instantly made noises of "I knew it."

"Speaking of which," Steve frowned while taking a sip of beer, "On my last trip before my vacation, when passing through the Libra Kree Empire’s teleportation portal, someone cut in line. His main cannon scraped the headlight of our star ship. Since we were in a hurry, we didn’t bother with him. Could we win a lawsuit?"

"Which headlight? The main front spotlight or the lower signal light?" Stark asked.

"Just the main second headlight on the side front. Not only was the outer shell damaged, but the laser generator inside isn’t working. It’s still not lit up. But because star ships are in short supply, there’s no time to return to the factory for maintenance, just have to make do."

"That’s absurd, driving with a broken spotlight?" Stark took a big gulp of beer, wiped his mouth, and said, "What if you drive into the Dark Star Domain? How would you get out?"

"Human navigation." Steve was indifferent, "Otherwise, what do you think the navigator is for? I’ve gone off the ship to scout ahead countless times. Besides, there’s still the main first headlight. It’s fine."

"I have a question." Peter raised his hand, "How can his main cannon scrape your headlight? What kind of maneuver is that?"

"They were supposed to be lined up in two rows at the teleportation portal," Steve was clearly angry, "He forced his way from the left row into the right row. Coincidentally, the spaceship ahead is an inverted triangle, leaving him a gap, and he forced his way in there. This caused a gravitational imbalance on the right side, flipping the whole spaceship over, and the front main cannon scraped and broke the lamp housing."

"That’s a lawsuit." Matt, despite his considerable resentment, was objective, "That’s clearly an illegal lane change. And interstellar traffic law stipulates that the ship that first experiences gravitational imbalance bears the primary responsibility. Making him pay a compensation of twenty or thirty thousand universal coins is no problem."

"Can he really pay that much?" Steve was a bit surprised.

"He can’t pay that much, but the inverted triangle spaceship ahead also needs to compensate. Its body type isn’t suitable for Level 2 and above large-scale teleportation portals, which is illegal crossing. Causing a traffic accident, it must also bear responsibility. Added together, compensation will be around that amount."

"Inverted triangle isn’t allowed either?" Peter asked, "Maybe he just likes that shape."

"Who would like an inverted triangle spaceship?" Stark mumbled, "Cosmic ray fish maybe?"

"Cosmic ray fish fly by themselves," Steve said, "I’ve seen them around Antary Nebula, they don’t need spaceships. And they obey most traffic rules better...most fish..."

The increasingly whimsical conversation disappeared into the night on Clarkia. The softly swaying treetops stirred the tranquil moonlit night. Suddenly, winds whipped up over the vast sea, causing a storm, but the island remained unmoved, only letting the sound of rain add to a few more dreamy, wet dreams. Upon waking early, they submerged into the hazy, lush mountain landscape in the drenching rain.