Marvel: Father of Superheroes

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At the hospital, Mike was subjected to a series of tests. The results showed no serious injuries—he had merely passed out. Hearing this, Hope finally breathed a sigh of relief.

If something had happened to Mike while saving her, her best friend Clark would have lost his father. Clark and those two boys would be devastated. What would she do then?

Would she have to marry Clark at such a young age and take on the responsibility of raising his two brothers?

Just the thought of it made her feel as though the world had turned gray.

Noticing her expression, Charles couldn't resist using his ability to read her thoughts. And then—

"Ha! Keep dreaming!"

"What did you say?"

Hope gave Charles a suspicious look.

"Ah, I said... you're really beautiful!"

At that moment, Mike slowly opened his eyes, his expression filled with appropriate amounts of confusion and curiosity.

"Dad! You're awake!" Eric exclaimed with excitement.

"Where... is this?"

Mike glanced around the room, his tone exaggeratedly perplexed.

Clark and Charles squinted at him.

His performance was way too over-the-top.

"Uncle, this is the hospital. Thank you for saving me!"

Hope spoke gratefully.

Mike smiled warmly and said, "As long as you're okay, that's all that matters."

Clark and Charles couldn't help but twitch at the corners of their mouths.

Enough already! 

"Ahem! I'm fine. Don't worry about me," Mike said, embarrassed by the look in his sons' eyes. His expression finally returned to normal.

"You're awake!"

Hank Pym walked into the room and smiled upon seeing Mike conscious.

Mike nodded in acknowledgment. "What about that guy…?"

"He's been taken away," Hank replied, casting a meaningful look at Mike.

Catching the look, Mike's mouth twitched slightly. "I think everything's fine now. I can go home."

"Let's observe you a bit longer to be sure," Hank said as he walked to the bedside. Glancing at the kids, he added, "You all head out for now. I need to talk to Mike."

The children exchanged glances, then obediently left the room, closing the door behind them.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

Hank got straight to the point.

"What are you talking about?"

Mike blinked innocently, his confused expression perfectly on point.

"It doesn't matter if you deny it." Hank didn't seem bothered and smiled knowingly. "You're not a bad guy, and I'm no longer part of that organization."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Mike said, his tone casual but guarded.

You won't get me to admit anything. Hah! 

Hank shrugged and changed the subject. "I'll be leaving here in a while."

"Huh?" Mike looked at him, puzzled. "Are you in trouble?"

"Trouble? You could say that." Hank sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair. "Where I used to work, some people tried to secretly replicate my research. We had a big falling-out. Some of them are still keeping an eye on me, and it's been incredibly annoying."

"After what happened today, with someone's help, I managed to take down that mutant. But a lot of people were watching. If Hope stays here and continues going to school, there might be baseless rumors about her.

"So, I figured this is as good a time as any to leave."

Mike nodded, indicating his understanding.

"My new company is already set up in San Francisco. If you're ever in the area, come visit."

"Sure thing!"

"Oh, by the way, I didn't tell them about your involvement in today's incident."

"What?"

"Haha!" Hank chuckled, pointing at Mike. "You're too cautious! If you ever run into trouble, feel free to reach out to me."

Mike smiled faintly in response.

"Oh, and before I leave, I'm planning to leave you a little gift. I hope you'll like it."

Hank tapped the armrest of his chair, then stood up. "Hope and I will be heading back now. Take care."

Mike blinked and said, "Alright, then I won't see you off."

"Hah! You're something else!"

With a good-natured laugh, Hank turned and walked out.

As the sounds of farewell echoed from the hallway, Mike flopped back onto the bed, looking deflated.

Clearly, I'm not cut out to be an actor. 

"Better than Charles!"

"Dad, did you call me?"

Charles poked his head in through the door.

Mike waved at the three boys and said, "Let's go home!"

"Dad, you should stay here and rest!" Eric said earnestly, looking serious.

Mike froze for a moment, then slapped his forehead in realization.

He had signaled Clark with a look and communicated telepathically with Charles but had completely left Eric out of the loop.

"You guys didn't tell him?"

Mike turned to Clark and Charles.

The two of them shook their heads. "We thought you were going to tell him yourself."

Mike let out a helpless laugh, then pulled Eric into a hug. Smiling, he said, "Silly boy, do you think your dad is so easily injured?"

Eric paused for a moment before gasping in shock. "You guys were acting!"

"Haha!"

The three of them burst out laughing.

Eric's face turned dark, and he was about to blow up when Mike ruffled his hair and said, "I knew you cared about me the most, Eric. Thank you, son."

Eric broke into a sheepish grin, his mood instantly shifting from stormy to sunny.

After packing up, the family left the hospital.

...

The mutant attack incident at the school was quickly suppressed and became just another rumor circulating in the small town. Over time, as the event lost its novelty, the school returned to normal as if nothing had ever happened.

Time truly is a wonderful thing.

It can help people forget and allow them to grow. It can separate people but also bring them back together.

Less than a month after the incident, Hank Pym and his family moved away.

Before leaving, Hank left Mike an envelope.

Inside was a set of keys and the title deed to a property in New York City—a villa located in an upscale neighborhood.

However, Mike didn't have time to check it out. After noting the address, he set it aside.

To thank Hank for the generous gift, Mike invited him and Hope for a hotpot dinner before they left.

When Hank saw the bubbling, fiery-red broth, he was so touched he nearly cried. Mike felt immensely gratified and, with some reluctance, brought out a bottle of his prized white liquor. The two drank to their hearts' content.

Three days after moving away, Hank Pym called Mike from hundreds of miles away just to send him a "warm" greeting.

Time flew by, and soon it was Clark's eleventh birthday. Charles and Eric were also about to turn eight.

These past few days, Mike had been busy preparing for their birthday party, getting gifts, and issuing a strict warning to the boys: no inviting strange guests.

He still vividly remembered Clark's birthday party two months ago. Clark had invited several women around Mike's age to the party, clearly trying to set him up with one of them.

The memory of that scene still made Mike feel utterly embarrassed.

It was also at that moment that he realized how those women saw him:

A wealthy, handsome single father—a perfect candidate for marriage or remarriage. A prime bachelor.

(End of Chapter)