Stepping out of the office building, the group's anger had still not subsided.
Angus Burren—a man with pointed ears, chin, and head, looking somewhat like a Namekian from Dragon Ball—cursed, "That bastard Roger Consius! I really want to kill him."
Borei nodded vigorously. "I'll go kill him right now."
He turned to leave, and the others quickly grabbed him to stop him.
Josie, the oldest of the group, glared at Angus. "How many times do I have to tell you? Don't mention 'killing' around Borei. You never learn."
Angus scratched his head sheepishly. "I promise, never again. I was just so angry. That bastard went too far, telling Emmy to do that. What does he think we are?"
At the mention of the subject, everyone's face darkened.
Emily forced a smile. "Alright, it's over now. Let's not bring it up again. Since we have some free time, how about a big meal?"
Mila Fausk, who was around Emily's age, spoke up. "Dinner is fine, but you have to invite your boyfriend."
Emily blushed. "What boyfriend? Don't talk nonsense."
"He bought you a car, and you still won't admit it?"
"There's no car. You must have seen wrong."
Mila chuckled and walked up to the Porsche on the right. She patted the amethyst-like shimmering body twice.
"Bob saw it. You drove in with this car. Bob, am I wrong?"
Bob, a big Black man with strange carvings on his face, nodded and spoke in a deep, muffled voice.
"I saw it with my own eyes. It's this black Porsche."
"It's purple, not black," Angus corrected. "I used to think you only confused red and green. Turns out you can't tell the difference between purple and black either."
"Is there a difference between purple and black?"
"Of course there is!"
Mila coughed. "Can you guys stay on topic, please? We're not done talking about the Porsche. I just checked online. This Porsche is this year's latest model, the Amethyst Limited Edition, selling for $200,000."
"Emmy, don't tell me you rented it."
Emily stammered, unsure how to explain.
Josie patted her shoulder. "Make a call. Ask for his opinion. If he has time, tell him to come. We can have dinner together. If not, we'll talk about it later."
"O-okay!"
Emily pulled out her phone and walked aside. After about ten seconds, she looked up. "He asked me what you all want to eat."
Mila was surprised. "Anything?"
Emily nodded.
"Yeehaw!"
Mila cheered, raising her hands. "I want to go to a Michelin three-star restaurant for a top-class French meal."
Emily shot Mila an annoyed look, knowing she'd say that. She turned to the others.
"What about you guys?"
Borei didn't hesitate. "Meat! Lots of meat!"
Angus thought for a moment. "I hear Brazilian barbecue is famous. I've never had it."
Since both were asking for meat, Mila protested.
"Uncultured peasants! How can barbecue compare to a French gourmet dinner?"
Bob complained, "French food looks good, but it won't fill your stomach!"
Borei nodded earnestly.
"No looking good. Need full stomach."
Mila: "..."
Josie: "..."
The white-eyed girl, Allie (the youngest), stated her request calmly. "I want juice. Iced coconut juice, fresh, as much as possible."
Emily sighed and turned to Josie.
"Big Sis, what do you want to eat?"
"I don't care. Anything is fine."
"Alright!"
Emily sent the requests to Luke. After getting a reply, she smiled.
"He's already made arrangements. He told us to head over."
Twenty minutes later, at Gotham's most famous Brazilian restaurant.
When the group arrived, Luke was already waiting there.
He was dressed in dark purple casual wear paired with white athletic shoes—fashionable and youthful—perfectly matching the purple-haired, purple-eyed Emily.
Experiencing this kind of scenario for the first time, Emily was slightly nervous. She softly introduced him.
"Luke Shaw, my... friend."
Then, pointing to the six people behind her, she introduced them one by one: "Big Sis Josie, Angus, Mila, Borei, Bob, and the youngest, Allie."
Luke extended his right hand, a warm smile on his face.
"Emily's friends are my friends. Just call me Luke."
Since it was their first meeting, no one was overly enthusiastic. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, they all headed upstairs to the private room.
Looking at their appearances, Luke finally understood why metahumans were often marginalized.
Angus, the white young man, had a pointy head, chin, and ears. One might mistake him for a Namekian.
Bob, the large Black man, had strange tribal-like carvings on his left cheek, looking like a priest from an African cannibalistic tribe.
Allie, the white-eyed girl, had cheeks so pale they looked painted, without a hint of color. She could play the live-action Sadako without makeup.
Borei, needless to say, looked like an incompletely evolved hominid.
The remaining two were normal enough, though Mila had golden vertical slits in her pupils, and Josie had webbing between her fingers. Despite her excellent concealment, she couldn't escape Luke's notice.
Luke examined them, and they examined Luke.
Black hair, yellow skin, but pale green eyes—he must be mixed race. He was handsome, had a good demeanor, and seemed gentle and composed, not the kind of guy with a violent temper. His only drawback was his age.
Allie stuck out her tongue and whispered,
"He's not even older than me, is he?"
Josie shook her head. "He should be older than you."
Mila tugged at her hair and mumbled,
"This guy looks so familiar. I feel like I've seen him somewhere."
Angus chimed in, "I feel like I know his face, too."
ShowMe!
The two looked at each other, seeing shock in the other's eyes.
"Luke Shaw! You're Luke Shaw, the founder of ShowMe!"
Luke paused, curious.
"Are you two ShowMe users?"
They nodded eagerly, instantly evolving from strangers to star-struck fans. Their eyes twinkled, and they promptly squeezed Emily aside, bombarding Luke with questions.
Allie was curious. "What is ShowMe?"
Josie shook her head. She rarely went online and wasn't familiar with internet things.
Emily explained, "It's a social media application. You can chat and make friends with others online."
Allie nodded in understanding. Then she asked, "Can I use it too?"
"Of course. I'll register an account for you when we get back."
The Full-Service Feast
The private room was on the third floor, a VIP suite reserved for top clients.
Pushing open the heavy door, the scene inside made everyone's eyes widen.
In the luxuriously decorated room, six chefs stood side-by-side, lined up in two groups: French master chefs in tall hats on one side, and Brazilian barbecue experts on the other.
A huge dining table dominated the center of the room. It was split into two sections: a Samba-style grill and carving station on the left, and an array of exquisite French cuisine on the right. In the corner, a wooden tub filled with ice held dozens of coconuts.
French cuisine!
Brazilian barbecue!
Iced coconuts!
They had everything they asked for and more.
If this were a test to meet the future in-laws, Luke would have gotten a perfect score.
In fact, this entire display instantly elevated his status in the group's eyes.
Mila gave him an immediate thumbs-up.
"Emmy, your boyfriend is amazing. I love him."
Emily's face flushed, but she wondered, How does a Brazilian restaurant have French food? Taking advantage of the others seating themselves, she pulled Luke aside.
"What's going on?"
"What do you mean, 'what's going on'?"
"These meals! How did you manage it?"
"Simple!"
Luke said nonchalantly. "I bought this restaurant. The owner thought I was generous and threw in the French restaurant a hundred meters away as part of the deal. Merge the two, and voilà!"
Emily: "..."
Is that a normal thing to say? Do you think you're the richest man in the world, buying whatever you want?
Emily was a mix of annoyance, affection, and genuine concern. Her complex emotions made her want to kick him.
"It was just a dinner! Did you really need to spend so much money? When you do things like this, I don't know what to do!"
Luke shook his head and sighed.
"You really are a little fool. This is an investment, not wasting money."
"The owners of both restaurants had close ties to the Falcone family. Thanks to your efforts, his identity was exposed, and he's now on the police's blacklist. The only thing he can do to avoid prison for the rest of his life is to quickly sell off his assets and flee to Europe with the money."
"Normally, buying these two restaurants would cost eight million dollars. Do you know how much I paid?"
Luke held up two fingers.
"Two million! When the riots calm down, I'll sell them, and I'll pocket six million."
"Do you even know how to do business, you dummy?"
Emily: "..."
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