The atmosphere in Metropolis's topmost revolving restaurant was somewhat peculiar.
By the window, a mountain of empty plates was stacked higher than the table itself.
Two waiters carefully removed the plates, fearing they might cause an avalanche if knocked over.
The surrounding elites, dressed in high-end suits and holding wine glasses, secretly glanced at the table with expressions reserved for prehistoric creatures.
These two individuals were simply too eye-catching.
One, in a red and blue tight-fitting battle suit, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and an explosively good figure, was none other than the city's well-known Supergirl.
But she was now letting out an unladylike burp, rubbing her flat stomach.
The other was even more outrageous.
A Hawaiian shirt, baggy shorts, and flip-flops—dressed for a beach surfing trip, yet appearing in a place where the average cost per person was five figures.
He was leisurely picking his teeth with a toothpick, a look of satisfaction on his face.
"Burp... Are you full?" Tel-Rol spat out his toothpick and asked Kara across from him.
Kara rubbed her stomach, her cheeks still flushed with contentment.
"Mmm... about five parts full."
Tel-Rol nodded in agreement.
"About the same, I just lined my stomach."
Their conversation, as if no one else was present, made the surrounding eavesdropping guests nearly drop their knives and forks.
Damn it, you call these mountains of plates "lining your stomach"?
Are your stomachs connected to an alternate dimension?
"Sir, madam, here is your bill."
A man who looked like the manager, with a professional fake smile, presented a leather folder with both hands.
His forehead was covered in sweat.
Today's restaurant inventory, especially the A5 wagyu beef and Australian lobster, had been virtually cleared out by these two.
The head chef in the kitchen had already fainted three times from crying.
Kara glanced at the long string of "0"s on the bill, and her small face instantly turned pale.
She subconsciously touched her Supergirl uniform.
It was over, this outfit didn't even have a pocket!
She looked to Tel-Rol for help.
Tel-Rol, however, remained calm. He waved to the manager, who was almost unsteady on his feet.
"Lend me your phone for a moment."
The manager quickly handed over his phone.
Tel-Rol took the phone, skillfully dialed a string of numbers, and then put it on speakerphone.
The call was answered after only one ring.
"Who is this? Don't you know I'm busy!"
A very flamboyant and somewhat impatient male voice came through.
"Tony, it's me," Tel-Rol interrupted him.
"Damn it! You bastard, you still remember to call me? You just walked away, and now the Avengers are a mess..."
The voice on the other end of the phone instantly rose eight octaves, a torrent of roars pouring out.
Everyone in the restaurant heard it clearly.
Tony? Which Tony? The one from Stark Industries?
Tel-Rol completely ignored the shouting on the phone and spoke nonchalantly.
"I just finished eating here; send someone over to settle the bill. Metropolis Skydome Revolving Restaurant."
There was silence on the other end for two seconds.
"You... want me... to pay... your bill?" Tony's voice was deliberate, filled with a dangerous edge.
"Yep."
"Go to hell! Ter! What do you take me for? Your ATM? I'm telling you, no way! Not a single cent! Even if you starve to death on the street, don't expect me to pay for a single meal! I, Tony Stark, am putting my foot down!"
As soon as he finished speaking.
Tel-Rol slowly added a sentence.
"Oh, I'm leaving now, remember to send someone, your woman or your bodyguard will do."
"..."
On the other end of the phone, there was a deathly silence.
After a full five seconds.
Tony's voice, as if squeezed through gritted teeth, rang out.
"...Got it."
"Beep."
The call was disconnected.
Tel-Rol returned the phone to the stunned manager, then pulled Kara and walked out.
"Done. Let's go."
The two swaggered out of the restaurant, leaving behind a room full of petrified guests.
Flying in mid-air, Kara finally couldn't hold back. She shook off Tel-Rol's hand, a look of disdain on her face.
"Didn't you say you were treating? How come Tony ended up paying?"
"You don't understand this," Tel-Rol chuckled, leaning closer to her.
"Don't mind the process, look at the result. Did you eat?"
"I... I ate."
"Did you pay?"
"No... no."
"Then that's that, isn't it?" Tel-Rol clapped his hands. "You ate without paying, so the result is equivalent to me treating you. Nothing wrong with that!"
Kara was so choked by his logic that she couldn't speak, her pretty face flushed with anger.
She found that she simply couldn't argue with this guy.
Kent Farm.
When Tel-Rol and Kara landed in the yard, Martha was the first to rush out.
Without a word, she gave Tel-Rol, who hadn't even reacted yet, a solid hug.
"Good boy! Thank you! Thank you for saving Lois and our grandson!"
Martha's voice was tearful, and she hugged him tightly.
Tel-Rol was completely stunned.
From childhood until now, besides fighting, he had never had such intimate physical contact with anyone.
Soft, warm, and with a sweet scent of baked cookies.
He felt completely uncomfortable, not knowing where to put his hands. After a moment of hesitation, he only lightly patted Martha's back.
"Cousin-in-law?" he looked confusedly at Lois and Clark, who were walking out of the house.
Clark was supporting Lois, his face showing an unprecedented gentleness and relief.
Lois gave Tel-Rol a weak but sincere smile.
"He's telling the truth," Lois said softly, "Ter, thank you. If it weren't for you, I..."
Only then did Tel-Rol understand what she was referring to.
He scratched his head a little awkwardly, breaking free from Martha's embrace.
"Oh, that thing. It's a small matter," he waved his hand dismissively. "That Joker was too noisy; I just made him shut up while I was at it."
Old Kent walked over and patted Tel-Rol's shoulder, his eyes full of approval and gratitude.
"It was my fault for making things difficult for you before. Thank you!"
Kara stood by, watching Tel-Rol, who was surrounded by the kent family, looking uncomfortable, trying to act cool but not quite pulling it off.
She suddenly felt that this guy might not be so annoying after all.
He had a venomous tongue and acted like a jerk, but... he genuinely protected his family.
In his own way.
Seeing his awkward expression, Kara's lips curved into an uncontrollable smile.
To give Lois a quiet environment for her pregnancy, Kara volunteered to take Tel-Rol, this source of noise, away.
"You're staying at my place," she announced without room for argument.
"Your place? How big is the training room?" Tel-Rol became interested.
"No training room, only a sofa and the floor. You choose one."
At night, Metropolis, Kara's apartment.
Tel-Rol lay on the living room floor with a look of indignation, covered by a pink blanket with kitten patterns.
His pillow was a Hello Kitty doll.
"Woman, this is abuse! I'm the benefactor who saved your cousin's whole family!"
Kara, in her pajamas, stood with her arms crossed, looking down at him.
"Shut up. You also killed someone. It's good enough that I didn't just package you up and send you to Bruce. Be grateful you have a place to sleep. If you make another sound, I'll throw you out on the street."
With that, she slammed the bedroom door shut.
Tel-Rol stared at the ceiling, tugging at the effeminate little blanket.
"Hmph, women... truly troublesome creatures."
He rolled over, pressed the Hello Kitty's head under him, and closed his eyes.
A few seconds later, steady breathing sounds began.
He was asleep.
A few days later.
Deep beneath the sea, Atlantis.
Deep in a colossal trench, a magnificent city stood silently.
Arthur Curry had just returned from outside, having finished an entire bottle of whiskey.
He had just rescued a whole boatload of fishermen from a storm today, and was in a good mood.
"Arthur."
A woman in a green tight-fitting battle suit, with red hair flowing like seaweed, walked towards him.
It was Mera.
Her face held a hint of solemnity.
"As you instructed, I've tripled the troops near the dungeon. Will he... really come?"
The drunkenness on Arthur's face vanished.
He walked to the throne and sat down, the golden trident, a symbol of kingship, propped on the ground.
His golden battle suit shimmered in the refraction of the water.
His gaze pierced through layers of palaces, looking towards the most heavily guarded place in Atlantis.
There, an ancient creation of infinite power was imprisoned.
The mother box.
Arthur gripped the trident, his voice low.
"He will definitely come..."