Chapter 32: The Antiques and the New Generation
"Did you decide to intern at Stark Industries?" Schiller asked.
Peter took a big sip of his soup and a bite of sausage before replying, "Yes, that way I can explain where my money comes from. I told my uncle that Stark Industries wanted to buy out my job opportunity, not only offering me a significant sum of money in advance but also covering my college tuition."
"Does your uncle believe it?" Schiller inquired.
Peter replied, "Actually, my uncle has always known that I excel in academics and have a bit of a genius mind. Now that I finally have the opportunity, he's thrilled for me."
"But..." Peter put down his bowl, looking somewhat embarrassed. He continued, "Mr. Schiller, I was wondering if I could stay with you for a few days. Our house is quite old, and after my uncle and aunt receive this money, they want to renovate the house a bit. The recent rain even caused some of the exterior wall to peel off. They'll be staying with their old friends, but I'm almost of legal age, and it would be inconvenient for me."
"I would be very welcoming of you to stay," Schiller said. "But doesn't the Stark company internship provide accommodation? It's quite a distance from Stark Industries to here."
Peter sighed and said, "But Stark Industries is even farther from Gwen's house."
Schiller chuckled and said, "I bet you tried to stay at Gwen's place and failed, which is why you've come to me."
Peter's face turned red, and he replied, "How could I make such an unreasonable request? I would never say such a thing to Gwen."
"You're not very much like an American conservative," Schiller remarked as he took a sip of his soup.Before they could finish their breakfast, Steve came in, sweating slightly on his forehead, indicating he had run all the way here. As soon as he entered, he caught the aroma of Schiller's porridge and patted his stomach, saying, "I have to say, my friend, this beats the S.H.I.E.L.D. cafeteria by a mile."
Schiller pointed to the kitchen, and Steve went to serve himself. Peter looked back and forth, munching his food like a hamster and peeking his head out. He asked Schiller in a hushed voice, "Who is that? He looks really handsome, even stronger than the high school football team captain."
Schiller replied, "Clearly, he's the guy who gave Stark a good beating. Of course, he originally intended to come and give you a beating because you've been swinging around New York."
Peter choked a bit, and when Steve approached with his bowl, Peter discreetly moved his chair a bit to the side.
The current Spider-Man was no match for Captain America, and Peter was well aware of it. He also knew that his previous high-profile actions had made many people unhappy, and there was more than one person who wanted to teach him a lesson. Stark, who had the power to do so, was one, and it seemed this strong man was another, given that he had beaten Stark.
As Steve's gaze landed on Peter, Peter jumped up as if shocked and said, "I'll pack the porridge in a lunchbox to take to Matt later."
"I advise against it for now," Schiller said. "You forgot that last time you went in the morning, you saw Matt and his girlfriend lying on the same bed. It was quite awkward."
Peter's face turned red again, and he mumbled, "But it's a hospital, and Matt's still recovering. They were just a bit... crazy."
Steve drank his soup in silence, then asked Schiller, "Is this Matt one of the good guys you mentioned?"
Schiller nodded and said, "I can't even describe him as just a good guy; he's a Hero, a true Hero."
Schiller briefly told Steve about Matt's life, and Steve sighed, saying, "Perhaps I'm not like him. When I was just an ordinary person, I couldn't stand many things, but I didn't have the courage to intervene because I knew I couldn't beat those people, and getting hurt would have been painful."
Schiller said, "Seeking profit and avoiding harm is human nature, which is why those who go against the tide deserve respect."
After Peter went to pack his things and left to deliver food to Matt, he returned to find Schiller absent from the clinic, leaving Steve alone at the bar, playing with a vintage record player.
Although it was considered vintage for this era, it was still a novelty for Steve, who came from a different time. He seemed unsure how to insert the disc.
Peter said, "You shouldn't tug on that door like that; you'll break it. Give me the disc, and I'll help you put it in."
Steve handed the record player to him and said, "That doctor went to provide psychological treatment for that darn Stark. How old are you this year? Are you about to graduate from high school?"
Peter, while fiddling with the record player, shook his head and said, "Not yet, I'm only in my sophomore year."
"I heard from Schiller that you're quite lucky and have gained some special abilities."
But Peter sneered and said, "Lucky? Maybe that's what I thought before, but now it's not all that."
"You're more mature than I imagined. I thought you would be bragging or eager to show something off."
"If it were a month ago, I might have done that. Okay, here you go. Now all you need to do is press the button on top, and it will play. Not many people know how to use these these days. My uncle has one, so I learned how."
Steve pressed the button and smiled, saying, "Do you know how to use a vinyl record player? I understand that one better."
Peter shook his head and said, "That thing is too ancient. I've seen it once at my uncle's colleague's house, but it always got stuck when we tried to play a record. No one could fix it."
"Well, if you ever get it, I'm good at fixing them. In the military, these were treasures, and if one broke, you'd hear a lot of complaints."
"Are you a soldier?" Peter asked. "I can tell you're really strong, probably at least a sergeant."
"Sergeant? Close enough. I lead a special operations team; we carry out missions," replied Steve.
Peter's interest was piqued. "Special forces? Which unit are you with? Navy SEALs or Delta Force?"
Steve chuckled. "We like to call ourselves the Patriots Team, but you might have heard a more famous name."
Peter was curious. "What's that?"
"Captain America and his friends."
Peter's eyes widened, and he exclaimed, "You were part of Captain America's team?! That must have been nearly a century ago. Did you...?"
"Oh, yes, indeed. Captain wasn't an ordinary man, and some of them surely must still be alive. So, you've met Captain? My, oh my..."
Peter hurriedly ran to the inner room, retrieved his backpack, and after rummaging through it, produced an action figure. He said, "Look, this is the latest bottle cap action figure they collaborated on with a soda company. I had to drink two whole crates of soda to get this one. It's the only one with a shield. A few days ago, at a party, they were all jealous of me. This is much cooler than dancing a bit of breakdance."
Steve squinted as he examined the small action figure. He took it and noticed that the figure's head seemed to be movable. He gently tried to move it, but it seemed he applied too much force, and the little figure's head snapped off. Peter cried out, rushing to snatch it back.
"Oh, no, it's broken! Glue! I need glue! It took me two whole months to collect this!"
"I'm so sorry," Steve said. "I've never played with one of these before. I thought it could move."
"Oh, no problem. If you really are from seven or eight decades ago, toys back then were much sturdier than now, like Lego, for example. They had Lego back then, right?"
Steve saw that Peter wasn't upset and felt that Schiller's description of this young man wasn't entirely accurate. Though he was a bit impulsive and a tad childish, he seemed capable of handling responsibility.
He said, "I think you should take a closer look at the head of that little toy. Doesn't it look familiar to you?"
Peter, somewhat puzzled, picked up the tiny action figure's head. It must be said that, although the quality of the action figure wasn't great, the sculpting was quite detailed.
Then Steve looked at the big boy in front of him, lowered his head to glance at the figurine, then back up at him. He repeated this several times, his eyes gradually widening, his mouth hanging so wide it looked like his jaw might dislocate.
Schiller had just returned with Pikachu and found this scene. Pikachu waved its little short arms in his arms and said, "Looks like we came back at the wrong time, interrupting Jack and Ruth's long-awaited reunion..."
Schiller rubbed its face and said, "I told you to watch fewer romantic movies."
Peter turned his gaze back to Schiller, stammering as he sought confirmation, "He is... I mean... he, that..."
Schiller pressed a button on the record player, and a melodious old song played. He patted Steve's shoulder and said, "Captain, it seems he really wants some proof from you. Yes, I see what he means."
Captain tapped on the desktop of the bar and said, "Where's my proof?"
Natasha's melodious voice came from inside, "Here it comes."
Before Peter could react, a shining shield with red and blue stripes and a white star in the middle flew in through the door. Steve caught the shield with one hand, and Peter stared in amazement, exclaiming, "Awesome!"
Outside the door, Natasha leaned against the door frame lazily and said, "Welcome back, Captain."
Steve tapped the shield and said, "Looks like you were prepared."
Schiller said to Natasha, "Enough of the sentimental old stories, we can chat later. The diagnosis fee for two days is a total of 5 million dollars. When will it be transferred?"
Steve glanced at him and said, "You really plan to charge that much?"
"Well, otherwise, you'd be here bugging us with your listening devices and eating for free just because you're Captain America, right?"
"I thought we were friends," Steve said.
"Of course, we are friends. If not, 5 million dollars here would only get you a breakfast."
"Do you charge Stark the same way?" Steve asked.
"Next time, I'll charge him double."
Steve immediately turned his head to look at Natasha and said, "Pay up, and add an extra 10% tip for me."