Marvel: Father of Superheroes

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*****

Silence…

Mike and Steve stared at each other. As if a realization had dawned on them both, a flicker of awkwardness crossed their faces.

"Ahem."

Steve cleared his throat and said, "Well, I was drunk last night… and I'm still not quite—"

"HULK!"

With a deafening roar, the Hulk burst through the door of Mike's house, smashing it to pieces.

He roared furiously, his emerald green eyes scanning the area for enemies.

But... where were the enemies?

With what little rationality he had, Hulk looked at Steve.

Steve looked at Mike.

Mike's gaze locked onto his broken window and destroyed door, his eye twitching uncontrollably.

Steve coughed again and said to Hulk, "Uh... my mistake. I..."

BANG!

Before he could finish, Hulk punched Steve hard.

Steve didn't even have time to raise his shield before being launched several meters away, crashing into a wall with a pained expression.

"Useless."

Hulk growled in his deep, gruff voice before turning around and storming out angrily.

Looking at the wrecked room, Mike slapped his face with a loud smack.

What the hell was this mess?

He sighed and peeled Steve—who was pretending to be unconscious—off the wall, tossed out a healing card to restore him, and then vanished in a flash. After dropping Steve back at his house, he returned.

Meanwhile, at home, Steve—under Peggy Carter's puzzled gaze—picked up his phone and immediately began contacting the other Avengers.

"Crisis averted!"

He told each one of them the same thing and then wiped the sweat from his brow.

"What happened?"

Peggy Carter asked curiously. "What just now?"

She had seen Steve rush out in a panic, only to return without explanation.

Steve cleared his throat. "There was... a bit of trouble. I took care of it."

"Trouble? What kind of trouble?"

"It's fine. I already handled it."

Steve smiled at Peggy, reached out, and held her hand. "Everything is under control."

Peggy hugged him tightly. "I love it when you're this confident."

Steve blushed slightly and hugged her back firmly.

…

When Gwen and Clark returned home and saw Mike repairing the windows and doors, anger and worry flashed in their eyes.

What happened?

Had their home been attacked?

When they asked, Mike's face darkened slightly. He snorted and told them everything that had happened that morning.

After hearing it all, the two exchanged glances, their mouths twitching before they both burst into laughter.

Mike sent the two out to buy groceries. Before dinner, he finally managed to fix the damaged door and windows.

That evening, the three of them—father, son, and daughter—sat at the table, eating and chatting.

Listening to Clark and Gwen share funny stories from work and school, Mike smiled from time to time, feeling happy for them.

When Mike mentioned that he was thinking of finding something to do, both Clark and Gwen fell silent.

"How about opening a restaurant again, Dad?"

Gwen suggested, her eyes glinting.

Mike shook his head. "I'm not interested in that anymore."

He wanted to try a different kind of job this time.

Gwen bit her chopsticks, bouncing them between her teeth as she furrowed her brow, deep in thought, considering what Mike might be good at.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up. "Dad, how about working as a chef in our school cafeteria?"

Mike: "..."

Seriously? That's all you can think of? Always food-related!?

Mike squinted at Gwen.

Gwen coughed lightly and focused on her meal, secretly pouting.

Fine!

You're the one who asked for suggestions, and now you're complaining…

Men. Such complicated creatures.

Gwen sighed inwardly.

Mike turned to Clark.

Clark blinked. "Well, our newspaper does post job listings."

He pulled out his phone and showed Mike the listings.

Car sales, real estate, janitorial work, nanny services...

Mike scratched his head. "Anything more challenging?"

Chef, farmer…

This time, he wanted to try something difficult.

"Didn't you say Erik started a company? He probably needs people right now. You could go take a look."

Mike frowned. "His company just got started. Too many responsibilities. I want something more... relaxed."

Clark: "..."

Gwen nudged Clark's arm. They exchanged glances and sighed.

So he wants something challenging—but also laid-back?

Seriously…

Wait!

Clark's eyes lit up as an idea struck him.

He quickly grabbed his phone, swiped a couple of times, and opened a webpage.

Stark Industries.

Private Assistant – Now Hiring

"Dad, Tony's hiring an assistant."

"You've got to be kidding me!"

Mike glared at Clark. "You want me to go work for him—"

"Sounds challenging, right?"

Mike hesitated. Thinking of Tony's personality, he nodded.

"Sounds relaxed, right?"

Mike frowned. "Not necessarily. He—"

"No, trust me. If you go, it'll be very relaxed. He won't make you do anything."

Clark pushed his glasses up. The reflection from the lenses gleamed, making Gwen instinctively squint.

"I'm not going!" Mike huffed. "Let's eat!"

…

The next morning.

The sun was shining brightly, the autumn breeze just cool enough to be pleasant.

After sending off Gwen and Clark, Mike drove to Stark Tower in New York.

Parking his car, he looked up at the building and muttered sincerely, "That's ugly."

It looked like a boot.

Mike added that thought silently.

Due to the many changes in this world, Stark Tower never became the Avengers' base as it was supposed to.

Instead, the actual Avengers headquarters was a building located on the edge of Mike's neighborhood, officially called Avengers Tower.

The Avengers usually lived in the neighborhood and used the tower for work, research, and other operations.

Entering Stark Tower, Mike approached the front desk. The receptionist—a beautiful young woman—smiled as he approached.

"Hello. Which floor is Tony Stark on?"

The receptionist gave Mike a quick but discreet once-over before replying with a smile, "Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"Then may I ask the purpose of your visit? I can schedule something for you."

"Appointment? Not necessary."

Mike shook his head.

Wait a minute… he was here to apply for a job. If he asked for Tony directly, wouldn't that make it look like he was pulling strings?

Did he really need to rely on connections for something like this?

Mike snorted. "Never mind. I'm not looking for him. I'm here for the job opening."

"Job... opening?"

The receptionist's eyes widened in surprise.

(End of Chapter)