Marvel: A Lazy-Ass Superman

Chapter 408: Chapter 408 — The Purpose of the Meeting?

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”Ah, that was Druid’s fault,” Kingo said with visible irritation. ”He always thinks his abilities guarantee perfection. But his arrogance is exactly what ruins everything.”

Henry smiled. ”So it is true. There have been records about the ’Eternals’ all over the world—but mostly anecdotes, folklore, strange tales. Nothing concrete.

”Then I heard about a film dynasty in India—five generations, each one looking like they were stamped from the same mold. I began to wonder whether it might be the same situation. Something connected to ’Eternal.’

”When Mr. Patel visited, I tested the waters. By the way—living like this... has no one truly discovered you?”

Kingo put on an exaggeratedly displeased expression. ”Of course they have. I’ve even had someone try to stab me through the heart, thinking I was a vampire.”

Beside him, the plump steward broke into a nervous sweat. ”Master... haven’t you forgiven me? I’ve apologized countless times.”

Kingo laughed. ”My dear servant, one day I will forget it. Until then, may I not occasionally comment on how clever you mortals think yourselves?”

To Henry, the exchange was clearly performance—affection disguised as teasing hostility.

Once the theatrics subsided, Kingo turned serious.

”You came to see me. What do you want?”

Henry hesitated. ”Honestly... I didn’t think that far ahead. I didn’t expect you to actually agree to meet.”

”Why not?” Kingo replied lightly. ”You mentioned another magic word. That caught my interest. Krypton. Care to explain?”

Henry’s gaze drifted briefly toward Karan Patel.

Kingo waved it off. ”Don’t worry. His lips are sealed. You haven’t seen him spreading my secrets, have you?”

Henry shrugged. ”Very well. But I hope Mr. Patel understands this involves a certain American intelligence agency.”

He then recounted the events surrounding Captain Marvel’s awakening—how the Skrulls had abruptly targeted him, dragging him into a conflict he had never sought.

He spoke of being identified by the Skrulls as a Kryptonian, and of the fragments of information he had learned from both Skrulls and Kree.

”So,” Henry concluded, ”do you know anything about Krypton?”

”You claim to be a Kryptonian orphan?” Kingo did not doubt him. Names like Skrull, Kree, and Kryptonian were not terms an ordinary Earthling could casually invent.

”That’s what the Skrulls said. But it’s true—I arrived on Earth alone.”

He omitted any mention of the Red Empire laboratory.

Kingo nodded slowly. ”I know of the Skrulls. The Kree. And Kryptonians. But Krypton’s presence in cosmic history was brief. What I know likely adds nothing to what you already understand.”

”...I see.” Henry couldn’t hide a flicker of disappointment.

That, at least, confirmed one thing: the Eternals had never directly dealt with Krypton. The Skrulls, enemies of Kryptonians, seemed to know more.

”Is there anything else I can help you with?” Kingo asked.

Henry pondered.

What did he truly want?

The most tempting thing was Eternal technology—possibly derived from the Celestials.

But asking outright would expose naked ambition. And he wasn’t even certain he could reverse-engineer it.

If it were something essential, he would have planned carefully. But it was merely... desirable. A bonus. Was it worth risking this promising opening?

Before he decided—

Katie rose and began pacing the tent.

Her unease brushed against Henry’s awareness.

”What is it?”

”Rrrr.”

—Need to pee.

”Oh.”

Yes. That was important.

Henry stood. ”My apologies, Mr. Kingo. Where’s the restroom? My pet needs relief. Surely you wouldn’t want a carnivore marking your tent.”

Kingo made a helpless face. ”I’m used to worse. But Karan—escort our guest.”

That comment made Henry twitch.

If even an Eternal could say he was ”used to it”... how wild were Indian public habits?

After briefly resuming his role as tiger janitor, Henry found himself thinking he really needed to rebuild the BB core robotics series soon—unless he wanted sanitation permanently added to his job description.

When he returned, Kingo asked curiously, ”You understand the tiger? Did you raise it from birth?”

”It’s actually a tiger-striped—... never mind,” Henry gave up mid-lie. ”Yes, I raised her. But the understanding part comes from a device I built.”

”Katie, come here.”

He adjusted the attachment behind her ear.

”This device analyzes tiger brainwaves and vocal patterns to interpret intent. I use a frequency inaudible to normal humans—only I can hear the translated result. It also works in reverse, converting human speech into sounds tigers comprehend. For now, only English.”

Kingo tilted his head. ”Ah. That explains the faint buzzing I sensed.”

Because the device clipped behind the ear to prevent accidental removal, toggling its settings required an awkward motion.

Katie flicked her ear irritably and gave a protesting growl.

”It itches, you foolish two-legged creature.”

She retreated, tail swishing, pacing again.

Henry sighed. ”Now what?”

”Isn’t there any sunlight here? I’ve been trapped in a little cold box all day, and everything smells terrible. After landing, it smells even worse. There’s nowhere decent to rest.”

To ordinary ears, it was only a low rumbling growl—vibration deep in the throat.

But Henry heard the full translation.

And the unmistakable disdain.

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