I Think That's Pretty Scientific

Chapter 4: 004: Happy Isn’t Happy Anymore

“Mr. Stark, there’s a package for you at Stark Tower.” Tony Stark, who was flipping through *Playboy* in his villa and picking out a bed partner for tonight, was interrupted by his AI, JARVIS. “My package? Why didn’t they deliver it to my house?” Stark, whose “conquest hunt” had been interrupted, grumbled unhappily. “‘This is for Happy, so just send it directly to the office.’ Those were your exact words,” Jarvis replied dutifully. “A gift for Happy?” Stark tried to recall, but couldn’t find any memory of it at all. “When did I ever buy him a gift? I never give gifts to men!” Jarvis said nothing, but instead projected a video of Kraft right in front of Tony Stark, along with Stark’s own note below the video. “Oh! I remember now!” Stark laughed heartily, tossed the Playboy magazine aside, and called out to JARVIS, “Get my car ready—I’m heading to the office right now! And while you’re at it, contact Happy and tell him his vacation is over—he needs to hurry over to Stark Tower!” He sped all the way to Stark Tower in his sports car, running every traffic law along the way, and by then, Happy was already waiting at the entrance. “Tony, what’s going on? You actually came to the office on your own!” Tossing the car keys Stark handed him to the doorman—instructing him to handle the parking and traffic violations—Happy stepped closer to Stark and asked curiously. “Oh, it’s nothing major.” Stark grinned as he led Happy into his office, which he’d hardly ever used—and where two huge boxes were already set up. “Happie, come take a look at the gifts I bought for you!” Stark said cheerfully to his bodyguard, patting one of the boxes. “Oh, no, Tony, I don’t think I need this…” Thanks to the media frenzy, Happy already knew exactly what these so-called “gifts” were, and he was deeply resistant to the idea. The kid who came up with this invention must be a devil sent to Earth by Satan! And Tony—he must have been bewitched by the devil too! “Are you sure?” Tony Stark stared at his bodyguard’s round, bulging belly and said with ruthless sarcasm, “With a figure like that, if you didn’t say anything beforehand, people would think you’re my chef instead of my bodyguard. If I ever really found myself in danger, would you even have the strength to protect me? After all, you look like you need to catch your breath after just a few steps.” “Of course there’s no problem!” With his professional competence called into question by his employer, Happy was visibly agitated. “My physique doesn’t affect my fighting skills!” “I have my doubts about that, Happy.” Stark spread his hands and shook his head. “Think about how you looked when you first started, and look at you now—you can’t even see your own toes when you bend over!” “…Maybe I really do need these after all…” Happi lowered his head at those words. Although he could still see his toes, the situation was indeed precarious. He thought about it for a moment and realized he really had let himself go over the years. “All right, Tony, I’ll take this gift.” Happy slumped his shoulders in despair, as if he could already see the miserable life that lay ahead of him. Farewell, my beloved hot dogs… And burgers, Coke, fried chicken, popcorn, and burritos… “Awesome!” Stark clapped his hands and dragged the gloomy Happy over to the Do-or-Die treadmill. “Come on, you try this first and let me see how it works!” “You’ve been possessed by the devil, Tony!” Kraft, of course, had no idea that a certain tycoon’s bodyguard was in deep trouble because of his invention. He and Fat Liao were currently taking advantage of the weekend to deliver the “Burn the Ships” weight-loss kit Martin Lee had ordered to the FEAST homeless shelter. “Kraft, it’s been a while. You’ve really made a name for yourself lately.” As soon as they walked into the shelter, a middle-aged woman who looked a bit older than her years approached him, patted him on the head, and praised him. “Hello, Aunt Mei.” Kraft and Fat Liao politely greeted Aunt Mei. May Riley Parker, a longtime volunteer at the FEAST shelter, was one of the few white people Kraft held in high regard; a kind-hearted person like her deserved respect regardless of skin color. After exchanging a few pleasantries with Aunt Mei, Fat Liao directed the delivery workers to place the weight-loss kits in a prominent spot inside the shelter. Given that the homeless people there often went hungry, there was no way they’d ever need Kraft’s weight-loss kits. But Martin Lee argued that this would attract people interested in the weight-loss kits to visit and try them out. The shelter could charge a fee for this and use the opportunity to promote its mission, thereby raising donations. Kraft wasn’t sure if what Martin said would actually work, but he certainly had no interest in helping the homeless—after all, when he used to be homeless with Martin, he’d never seen anyone come to their aid. Still, judging by what Martin said, it didn’t seem like he’d built this shelter purely out of the goodness of his heart… Kraft scratched his head. The adult world sure is complicated. Just then, a bespectacled, dazed-looking guy emerged from a room in the corner. “Aunt Mei, is there anything else I can help with?” The moment he spotted the worker fiddling with the “All or Nothing” weight-loss kit and Kraft talking to Aunt Mei, his face lit up with excitement. “Kraft!” Peter Parker ran up to Kraft in a flash, grabbing his arm and shaking him. “I heard Mr. Stark took a liking to your invention—I’m so jealous!” “What’s there to envy? I just sold him a product, that’s all.” Shaking off Peter’s hand with disdain, Kraft pursed his lips and looked down on the guy who was four or five years older than him. Although Peter Parker was Aunt May’s nephew and often came to help out at the shelter, Kraft didn’t particularly like him—though he didn’t exactly dislike him either. Mainly, he couldn’t stand Peter Parker’s usually meek and timid demeanor. “But doesn’t this give you a chance to strike up a conversation with Mr. Stark?” Peter’s line of thinking was exactly the same as Fat Liao’s earlier, but Kraft didn’t feel like explaining it all over again. Besides, rather than patiently explaining things, Kraft was more in the habit of dissing Peter. “Even if I do strike up a conversation, that’s my business. Why are you getting so worked up? Besides, even if you could talk to Stark, would you actually be able to say anything? You can’t even speak to Mary without stuttering.” “That… that’s different!” Peter Parker’s face flushed red as he struggled to defend himself, but he didn’t know what to say. Kraft’s jabs at Peter were practically a regular feature at the shelter; everyone around them burst into laughter upon hearing them, and even Aunt May stood by, grinning as she watched the show. She wasn’t particularly pleased with Peter’s timid nature either, so she was actually glad to see Kraft riling him up—maybe her nephew would change for the better because of it? Unfortunately, Peter Parker let her down. After stammering out a couple of half-hearted excuses, he made up an excuse and slipped away. “Sigh…” Aunt May sighed in disappointment. She didn’t mean to blame Peter—having lost his parents and coming from a poor family, it was only natural for him to feel inferior. But as she looked at the young Kraft, Aunt May suddenly began to understand what the boy had meant when he spoke of “other people’s kids.” Seeing Peter back down and make a run for it again, Kraft spread his hands at Aunt May and shook his head helplessly—this was as far as he could go to help her. No matter how much he disliked people of other skin colors, Kraft—now fourteen—wouldn’t go out of his way to mock others for no reason, especially not with Aunt May involved. He’d sensed her frustration, which was why he’d occasionally help her by giving that dimwit Peter Parker a little push. Of course, picking on an upperclassman several years his senior also gave Kraft a real sense of accomplishment. The others at the shelter were no different; their jeering was all part of the effort to get under Peter’s skin. Kraft wasn’t nearly as popular at the shelter as Peter was. Most of the staff there were volunteers who came of their own accord, and they certainly wouldn’t go out of their way to favor him just because he was Martin Lee’s adopted son. “Thank you, sweetie.” Aunt Mei stepped forward and gave Kraft a hug. She genuinely adored this somewhat extreme but very sensible child; if Martin Lee hadn’t beaten her to it by adopting him first, she would have taken Kraft home herself. “You really shouldn’t keep playing the bad guy. Peter’s personality is already set; a little provocation like this isn’t going to change him.” Stroking Kraft’s little head, Aunt Mei said with a sense of resignation. After several unsuccessful attempts, she felt a pang of sympathy for her nephew and decided to let things take their natural course—after all, he was just a little timid; it wasn’t a big deal. “No way,” Kraft said cheerfully. “It’s a rare chance to have a perfectly legitimate reason to pick on Peter—I’m thrilled!” “You little rascal! Do whatever you want…” Aunt May shot Kraft a disapproving glance, then added, “Just don’t be too harsh on him—your brother Peter isn’t exactly thick-skinned.” “O~k~ay~” Kraft dragged out his words, agreeing somewhat reluctantly. After chatting with Aunt Mei for a while longer, Kraft and Fat Liao left. Work at the shelter was pretty hectic, he didn’t feel like helping out, and he had new experiments waiting for him, so it was best to leave early. Martin Li’s prediction had been spot-on. Due to Kraft’s production capacity, the FEAST Homeless Shelter caught the tail end of the craze. The “Burn the Ships” weight-loss kit had indeed brought a significant amount of traffic to the place, resulting in several substantial donations. Financial aid was secondary; the real prize was the job opportunities offered by various business owners—which was quite rare. However, the craze itself lacked a solid foundation, so it came and went just as quickly, leaving Kraft with much more peace and quiet. Unfortunately, he’d barely had two days of peace before Tony Stark came along and stirred things up again. Um… Happy Holidays? Also, I received a message about signing a contract. I took a look at the new one, and it feels like… it’s not really any different from before, is it?