Midday.
Carl pulled a bottle of red wine from the fridge, along with a single wine glass.
Pouring himself a drink, he leisurely took a sip, savoring the moment.
Across the room, Skye lay lazily on the couch, wrapped in a blanket.
Carl grinned. "Why don't you just move in with me?"
"I've got plenty of properties, tons of space."
Still resting, Skye shook her head. "No thanks. I've got a place of my own."
"Fair enough."
Carl shrugged, not at all surprised.
This wasn't the first time he'd invited Skye to stay with him.
But for some reason, she always refused.
He thought for a second, then teased with a smirk, "Fine, but in that case, we're definitely getting a sturdier bed today."
"I mean, it's not a huge deal that it collapsed… but it did ruin our sleep, right?"
At his words, Skye grabbed a nearby pillow and hurled it at him.
"That's your fault, you jerk!"
There was a hint of playful resentment in her tone.
"What's up with you today? Why were you so full of energy?"
"It's already noon, and you broke my bed!"
When she'd called Carl earlier this morning, it had only been around seven or eight.
And she knew Carl was strong, he'd trained in combat since childhood.
She'd mentally prepared herself for at least an hour or so of "exercise."
But this morning, Carl had really gone above and beyond.
Carl laughed it off. "That was nothing. If I wanted, we could keep going till tomorrow."
"Yeah, right! Big talk! You wanna go again, huh?"
"Oh?" Carl raised a brow and started walking toward her.
Skye's eyes widened as she realized he was serious. "Wait, no way. You're really going for it again?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
Skye quickly buried her head under the blanket and surrendered, "Okay, okay! I give up! I was just kidding!"
"I've got zero strength left. You win!"
Carl chuckled, gave her a light pat, and picked up his wine glass from the table, clearly in a great mood.
And to be fair, he wasn't bluffing.
If he hadn't noticed how exhausted Skye was, he honestly could have kept going.
After all, ever since receiving the Silver Superman template, Carl was nothing like his old self.
Still, he hadn't expected the bed to collapse after just a few hours.
Guess Skye's place really was kind of shabby.
Maybe it was pride or something else, but Skye had refused to move into Carl's house.
Instead, she insisted on staying in this tiny rented apartment.
What she didn't know was that Carl had already contacted her landlord and bought the unit at 15% above market price.
Truth be told, the local housing prices were dirt cheap.
Even with the extra markup, it was still far below Carl's expectations.
But as the saying goes, cheap things are rarely good.
The bed collapsed!
Total garbage quality. He should probably go argue with the seller.
And now? He had to pay Skye back for her broken bed.
Damn crooks.
Skye rested for quite a while before finally getting up to wash up.
Carl had already finished the bottle of wine and taken a shower.
By around 2 p.m., Skye had finished getting ready too.
Since their bed had collapsed, they needed to go out and buy a new one.
Naturally, they had to pack up a few personal items first.
But first, lunch.
The two of them stopped at a fancy restaurant to eat, then headed straight to a nearby shopping mall.
This time, Carl didn't hold back, he dropped two thousand bucks on a new bed.
He was a little disappointed, though.
Why didn't they have anything more expensive?
No way this one would break too, right?
Because Skye would be sleeping at home that night, they brought the delivery crew straight to her apartment.
The delivery guys, of course, were incredibly enthusiastic.
Even though Skye's place wasn't much, the bed Carl had bought was a high-end, two-thousand-dollar model.
Beds like that barely sold once a month.
The delivery guys could tell right away that Carl and Skye weren't just rich, they were big shots.
So they pulled out all the stops.
By the time the bed was delivered and set up, it was already past 5 p.m.
Skye sat on the new mattress and asked, "So… what do we do now? Wanna hit up your bar?"
"Nah. Not many people there this early, kind of a buzzkill."
"True. Then what?"
"Let's test the bed first… then go out for dinner."
Skye blinked, surprised. "Test the bed?"
"It looks fine…"
She didn't even get to finish her sentence before Carl cut her off with a chuckle.
"You can't tell just by looking," he said playfully. "We have to try it ourselves."
And with that, Carl climbed onto the bed too.
Three hours later.
Carl once again walked over to the fridge, grabbed another bottle of wine, and poured himself a glass.
He didn't smoke, but he did enjoy drinking.
Most of the alcohol in Skye's place had come from Carl's own bar.
And the reason?
Well, it was obvious.
Skye lay on the bed, quietly watching Carl.
"You're acting different today," she murmured. "Like a completely different person."
Carl raised an eyebrow. "Because I broke the bed?"
"No! That's not it."
She rolled her eyes, then muttered to herself, "I don't know how to describe it. It's like… you've changed, but also not really."
"Just something about your aura, it's different."
"Maybe."
Carl smiled faintly, not confirming anything.
Ever since learning he was in the Marvel universe, he'd definitely been under pressure.
Sure, he was rich, but in this world, money could only get you so far.
There were just too many powerful beings out there.
Forget Thanos for a second, even someone like Kingpin was a threat he hadn't figured out how to deal with.
But now? With the Silver Superman template unlocked, Carl finally had the power to protect himself.
His whole mindset had changed.
At the very least, that guy who had tried to strong-arm his bar?
Carl was really tempted to go beat the crap out of him.
Sure, he'd wanted to before, but he knew he'd lose.
Now, though…
Heh.
But that could wait.
He had three days before that guy said he'd come knocking.
Right now, spending time with Skye was more important.
After resting a bit longer, Skye freshened up again.
The two of them headed out, this time, to Carl's bar.
Carl's bar was called Smith's Tavern.
The name had been chosen by the old man who raised him.
Carl never sold the bar, partly because of his love for drinking, and partly for sentimental reasons.
One location was in Queens, just a short drive from his house.
The other was in Manhattan.
To be fair, Kingpin had offered one million dollars to buy the Queens location.
That was a solid offer.
The bar in Queens was spacious and stocked with rare, expensive liquor.
Even so, when you added up the inventory and property value, it didn't quite reach a million.
So yeah, Kingpin's offer was actually generous.
But that wasn't the issue.
It wasn't about money, it was about principle.
Carl's net worth was in the billions.
You think he'd sell off his bar just for a little pocket change?