In the evening, Carter pulled out a tripod from his small house and hung a black iron pot on it.
Stark grumbled, "This must be an antique from a hundred years ago."
Mike wanted to say, "Tony, you're spot on."
Carter took some rice, beef, seasonings, and vegetables from the church, just enough to cook a pot of beef porridge.
Soon, Stark eagerly took a wooden bowl, scooped a bowl of porridge, blew on it, and ate with great relish.
For a billionaire like him, what was so special about a messy pot of beef porridge?
The key wasn't the ingredients or the taste, but the novelty and the sense of participation.
The bowls, spoons, and chopsticks were all carved by Mike with a knife, but there were only three sets. Coulson was very observant, his brows slightly furrowed.
Mike shouldn't be such a rude person, although he often complained about people freeloading meals at his house. Complaints aside, it was clear that Mike actually enjoyed it.
Food tastes better when eaten with many people.
With a question in his mind, Coulson placed his set in front of Carter, "Your bowl and chopsticks."
"I don't need them," Carter smiled, pushing the bowl and chopsticks back, looking at Mike, who was fighting with Stark for food, with a knowing gaze. He said, "I don't eat these things, and I'm not just being polite. So... you all eat, don't mind me."
"Don't eat these things"? What did that mean?
Seeing that Carter offered no explanation, Coulson picked up the bowl and chopsticks suspiciously, scooped a large bowl of porridge, and began to eat.
After the meal.
Coulson leaned close to Mike and whispered, "Why didn't you prepare a bowl and chopsticks for the old man? That's not like you..."
Mike said as a matter of course, "Because he doesn't need them."
"Let me answer that question," Carter walked over from behind. "Excuse me, please allow me to introduce myself..."
With that, he took off his cowboy hat, placed it on his abdomen, and bowed slightly, saying, "I am Carter Slade. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier."
Coulson's eyes widened. Carter Slade wasn't he the Texas Ranger who stole the saint venganza contract over a hundred years ago?
He had even seen his grave not long ago.
So... did Carter fake his death, or was the Carter in front of him not human?
"He's a Ghost, Mike figured it out, that's why he didn't make him a bowl and chopsticks," Coulson felt a chill down his spine.
Seemingly sensing Coulson's thoughts, Carter said, "I don't know if I count as a Ghost, after all, a Ghost wouldn't have a physical body like me, and be able to smoke, drink, and work."
Carter looked at Mike: "Young man, I can't see your true nature. A half-Angel? Or a half-demon? Or a magic user?"
Mike smiled and shook his head.
Carter didn't press the matter.
Coulson was anxious in his heart, "You should ask, if you ask, I can secretly take notes."
Carter, with an old-fashioned pipe in his mouth, ambled away, carrying a shovel.
Coulson muttered under his breath, "Always carrying a shovel, there must be treasure hidden inside."
Mike wanted to say, "Heh heh, Coulson, you're also spot on."
Mike took out some beef jerky and offered it to Coulson, "Want some?"
"I just ate, eating beef jerky late at night, aren't you afraid of indigestion?" Seeing Mike about to put the beef jerky away, Coulson quickly said, "Of course I'll eat it!"
He snatched the entire bag away.
Mike: "Just eat it, stop talking nonsense. Eat your fill, there might be an after-party tonight."
Coulson happily chewed on the beef jerky, taking Mike's words to heart, thinking, "I must stay vigilant tonight!"
"Hoo-ah~~ ~ ZZzz..."
Originally, the three of them were playing cards. Stark went out to pee, and when he came back, he found Coulson lying on the mat, sprawled out, snoring rhythmically.
"Alright, that's enough, everyone go home," Stark threw down his cards. "Ugh, it's really bad luck to have a boss like Nick, he works people like animals. Has Phil not slept well for days?"
"Damn, you have the nerve to talk about Nick, look at how you've exploited Pepper," Mike rolled his eyes. "Also, you're the one who dragged Phil into playing cards, aren't you? To be this shameless, I admit... I can't beat you!"
Stark was about to argue, but Mike pushed him out.
The night was long, and there was no desire to sleep.
For night owls like Mike and Stark, the exciting part of life was just beginning.
Before starting the match, Mike specifically warned Stark, "If you dare let Jarvis cheat, I promise your third leg won't get hard for at least a month, you'll only be able to eat vegetables, and that's the end of it!"
"Do we have to play for such high stakes?"
"You forced my hand."
"You're ruthless!"
Stark slipped into his tent, "No cheating then, let's see how I can screw you over with pure skill!"
Several hours passed.
Mike felt something and put away his phone.
He lifted Stark's tent flap.
Stark, like a startled rabbit, crossed his arms to protect his groin: "I swear to God, I absolutely did not cheat."
Mike: "Uh... I just wanted to say: the enemy is here."
Arriving at Coulson's tent, his phone vibrated just then, and Coulson suddenly sat up, saying, "Report the situation!"
Coulson's tone was serious, but his eyes were still heavy with sleep, and there was a faint stain of drool at the corner of his mouth.
Tsk tsk, truly a professional Agent.
But the incongruous sight of his expression and tone made one want to laugh.
Hanging up the phone, Coulson rubbed his face hard twice and said, "Johnny has transformed, riding a flaming chariot, and is heading this way."
The phone rang again.
A moment later, Coulson hung up the phone with a grim face: "Two Agents responsible for monitoring violated orders and attacked Ghost Rider... deceased."
Violating orders... probably Snake Shield Agents, those snake cubs are getting more and more rampant.
Coulson suddenly asked Mike, "You told me to stay as far away from Ghost Rider as possible before, which means you think Ghost Rider would judge me guilty?"
After speaking, Coulson's eyes dimmed considerably.
He was actually a sinner!
Mike knew what Coulson was thinking. He had done so much for others, and although he hadn't thought about rewards or anything like that, he was going to hell?
Wouldn't that be disheartening?
Mike laughed, "By Ghost Rider's standards, all of us here should go to hell. Don't worry, you'll have company in hell. Besides, whether you go to heaven or hell isn't up to the Devil's side."
Coulson was stunned: "Then who decides?"
Mike replied, "Of course, it's a negotiation between the Devil and the Angel, with both confrontation and compromise."
Coulson was astonished: "This... is a bit different from what I thought. You're not lying to me, are you?"
Mike feigned anger, "When have I ever lied to you?!"
Coulson said, "Often, actually."
Stark chimed in from the side, "I can attest to that. Just now, when we were playing cards, Mike knew you were observing his micro-expressions, so he used that to his advantage and tricked you several times."
Mike squinted sideways: "Heh heh, when we were playing cards, you were wearing an invisible earpiece, and Jarvis was helping you cheat. Did you think I didn't know? Don't forget my hearing is world-leading."
Coulson: "..."
No wonder he lost more than he won.
It was just a card game, and the stakes were just a pile of peanuts, was it really necessary to go to such lengths?
It was all an act.