Chapter 253: Why Force Me?

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Half an hour later, Steve left with Peggy Carter, who wore a strangely amused smile on her face.

Looking at the money in his hand, Mike chuckled.

Well, that's the first sale.

It was the shop's very first transaction—no way it was going to be free.

He placed the money into the register and glanced outside the shop.

The street was gradually getting busier—it was nearly lunchtime.

Mike muttered under his breath, "Let's hope it doesn't get too crowded. Just a few people would be fine."

Then, as lunchtime came and went, Mike still hadn't sold a single plate of fried rice.

His shop had just opened. Although the cozy decor attracted a few curious onlookers, all he served was fried rice. On top of that, when customers did enter, Mike didn't even greet them…

With such a "go-with-the-flow" approach to running a business, it was no wonder no one stuck around.

Mike, however, was happy to stay relaxed—though he did feel a bit disappointed.

He didn't like big crowds, sure, but having absolutely no one? That was just too pitiful.

"How come not even a single person showed up? Even a stray cat would do…"

He muttered to himself.

Just as he spoke, a silver-gray sports car pulled up by the curb. A man in sunglasses and a flamboyant goatee stepped out, adjusting his clothes as he made his way toward Mike's shop.

Pedestrians on the street paused as they noticed him, instinctively stopping in their tracks and trailing behind him.

Iron Man—Tony Stark.

The Stark Expo had recently thrown him back into the media spotlight.

People were curious about why he'd shown up here. In just a few short steps, over twenty people had already followed him.

Tony pushed open the door and walked inside. The crowd gathered outside, whispering and wildly speculating.

Some guessed the shop owner was a dangerous criminal and Iron Man was here to make an arrest.

Others imagined the owner to be a genius scientist and Tony was recruiting him for some top-secret project.

As more people gathered, the theories only got more outrageous.

But in reality, Tony had come for a much simpler reason…

"Hey, Uncle Mike. One fried rice, please."

"You've got time for this?"

Mike's eye twitched as he looked at the growing crowd outside.

Tony chuckled. "No matter how busy I am, I had to come thank you. I really appreciate what you did the other day."

"Haven't you already thanked me?"

Mike mumbled, eyeing the door nervously. Something about this situation felt off.

"I just wanted to say it in person."

Tony smiled and glanced around at the decor. "The place looks nice."

"My mom told me you opened a restaurant, so I thought I'd stop by and check it out."

He gave Mike a wink. "She said your business probably wouldn't be great and told me to come help out. Looks like she hit the nail on the head."

Thinking about how empty the place had just been, Tony grinned and pointed at the crowd outside. "See? I brought you customers."

"Maria sent you here to be walking advertisement?"

Mike's mouth twitched. As he looked at the now-packed doorway, a thought crossed his mind that made him want to cry.

"She have anything else she wanted you to pass along?"

Tony gave a thumbs-up. "You're good. She really did give me a message for you."

"Spit it out!"

Mike's body trembled slightly.

"She said, if the crowd gets too overwhelming and you're too tired to keep the shop open, come play mahjong with them—they're one short."

Mike: "…"

Shameless. That idea definitely had Peggy Carter's fingerprints all over it.

Mike took a deep breath and sneered. "Wishful thinking. The more customers, the happier I am. One plate of fried rice, right? Wait here."

A few minutes later, Mike brought a plate of fried rice to Tony.

Tony didn't hold back—he picked up a spoon and started digging in.

Same great taste as always.

He silently praised it in his mind.

"Finished? Then get lost. Just looking at you annoys me," Mike said coldly.

Tony wiped his mouth and said, "Wanna leave together?"

"No!"

Mike replied firmly. He refused to bow to such evil forces.

Tony glanced outside and teased, "Ooh, I see some reporters. When they ask, what should I say?"

"I told her this place serves my favorite food, and that I'd drop by now and then. She said your business would explode and that you'd love it, right, Uncle Mike?"

Mike: "…"

He just wanted to kill time, not be so busy he didn't have a moment to breathe.

"That night, you should've been taken out," Mike said coldly, then sighed in frustration, "Why do you have to push me like this?"

Tony shrugged. "Because if not you, then it'd be me. I'm busy, so you're the only choice."

He smiled at Mike. "Just make sure you beat them badly enough to piss them off for a few days—they'll stop playing with you."

That way, it won't feel like you're just losing money.

Seeing Mike's scowl, Tony cleared his throat and stood up. "Why not give it a shot?"

Mike glanced outside…

Good grief. While Tony was just eating, a huge crowd had already gathered outside—growing by the minute.

Not five hundred, but at least three hundred.

If Tony started advertising outside too and this was the daily scene, Mike would be so exhausted he'd be drained to the bone every day.

What he wanted was a laid-back shop life—cooking a few meals casually to satisfy the lucky customers who showed up, spending the rest of the time watching people pass by, reading a book in the sun.

Not a life where the moment he opened the door, he was slammed with nonstop work till nightfall, with crowds surrounding the place like he owed some huge debt.

Maria and the others must have counted on exactly that.

"Ahem, the crowd outside just got bigger," Tony said lazily, acting all innocent. "Looks like you'll be crazy busy."

Mike rubbed his forehead and walked to the door, hanging the "Closed" sign.

Seeing this, Tony smiled. "I'm heading out."

"Get lost, get lost, get lost!" Mike said with a scowl, waving him off impatiently.

Watching Tony leave the shop—like a flower… no, more like a pile of cow dung attracting all the flies outside—Mike hurriedly locked up and headed home.

Customers today: 3.

Revenue today: 30.

Mike silently calculated as he fumed on the way back. Facing Steve's mournful, accusing eyes, he sat down at the mahjong table.

Half an hour later, Mike looked at the money he'd won…

Hey, mahjong isn't so bad—it's kind of fun!

At dusk, when Clark and Gwen returned, they sighed seeing the heated game going on.

Yep, his dad had failed to resist again.

A knock sounded at the door. Mike, freshly changed, opened it to find Tony standing there.

"What are you doing here?"

Tony pointed to the house next door, bought by Maria. "I live right next to you."

Peeking inside, hearing the rattle and clatter, he said in surprise, "Still playing?"

(End of chapter)