Chereads / Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics / Chapter 3858 - Chapter 2975: Leisure Time (Nine)

Chapter 3858 - Chapter 2975: Leisure Time (Nine)

Although California is already one of the more densely populated states, it still has the characteristic American trait of being vast with sparse population. You usually see tall buildings only in the bustling areas, while the outskirts are dotted with short houses, making it common for palm trees to be taller than the houses.

The atmosphere of these West Coast cities is completely different from that of the East Coast; although traffic jams are just as bad, the abundance of sunshine, gentle breezes, sky so blue it looks like it's been filtered, and the roadside exotic plants from temperate to tropical zones, look as green as if they were made of plastic.

Shiller and Tim were driving around Los Angeles City, even during the less busy noon hours, there were still plenty of cars on the road. After aimlessly driving for over an hour, they went into a restaurant that had the look of Mexican architecture.

Then they realized that the cafe in town might not be any internet-famous joint, as the restaurant in the city was just as pricey and not very tasty either.

In the afternoon, they drove to the beach, but instead of going onto the sand, they just took a tour along the coastal road before heading to the airport before the rush hour.

The weather today was even better than yesterday, Pamela arrived just in time to catch California's purple sunset, casting the whole city in purplish-red hues, with the light reflected on the white walls turning into a dreamy mix of pink, purple, and orange.

Since there was still time, Pamela suggested a stroll by the sea, so Shiller drove towards the beach.

The closer they got to the beach, the shorter the houses became, until they were mostly white two-story buildings with brown-tinted glass, looking under the warm hues of the sunset like toast bread half-baked.

The streets here were narrower, lined with shops enclosed by courtyard walls. Due to the sea breeze, the omnipresent marijuana odor finally wasn't so pervasive.

"I just thought of a good way to refute plant conservationists," Pamela said, resting her elbow on the car window, her red hair slightly fluttering in the sea breeze.

Looking at a homeless man lying at the base of a wall, Pamela commented, "Why don't plant conservationists protect marijuana? Marijuana lives matter too."

"So you can't develop a plant that makes people happy without being addictive?"

"Don't make yourself sound like an illiterate, kid," Pamela said disdainfully, "Humans naturally become addicted to pleasure; it's a total paradox."

Tim shrugged his shoulders, indicating he was just asking casually, Pamela continued, "Drugs can destroy a person's brain, and still so many are rushing to get high, if there were no harm, all of humanity would just stay home getting stoned."

"Ah, I can't stand it anymore." Pamela rolled up the car window because now they were driving into the wind, and the smell brought by the breeze wasn't just the faint scent of marijuana and the sea, but also, as expected, the smell of feces and urine.

Only if you didn't have a nose, LA would truly be a nice place.

They parked in front of a plaza, walked to the seaside, and found another restaurant on that strip of street, not surprisingly pricey, it reached half the cost of living in New York.

Watching the palm leaves gently sway in the sunset, sipping specialty bubble wine, Pamela felt utterly relaxed. She breathed out, wishing she could melt into butter and slump into the chair.

"Let's talk business," Shiller said, putting down his glass, "The gathering at that so-called Love Farm isn't light-weight, it's not something that'd be thrown into chaos by just tossing in a couple of veggies."

"Then we infiltrate beforehand and hide in the furrows," Pamela suggested, "Do you think part of their banquet preparations includes checking every cabbage to see if it can attack people?"

Tim laughed and said, "Everyone might be doing just that after that day."

"Just what those plant conservationists would hope for," Pamela commented sarcastically, "They better check their fridge three times a day or they'll end up with their noses broken by a cabbage one of these days."

"How many mature specimens did you bring?"

"Don't be silly, I can't bring the finished product, I wouldn't be able to explain to security why I'm carrying cabbages, and they're too easily crushed," Pamela said, pulling out a small bag from her pocket containing a few seeds, she continued, "Because I can harness the power of All Things Green, I can rapid-mature them in a short time, just need a flowerpot."

"Then let's go get some gardening tools later, or just do it in the woods in front of the venue?"

"Same question, cabbages aren't small. The farm is heavily guarded inside and out, how do we get them in?" Shiller asked.

"So here's what I was thinking," Pamela was reliable once she got paid, "I can scout the area beforehand, make the plants in his living room wither, so he'll have to buy new ones."

"I can place the seeds in the pots of the newly bought garden plants, have them spurred on the day of the gathering, and they can jump into the crowd…"

"As far as I know, that banquet isn't that simple," Shiller said, stirring the content of his glass with a straw, "There's a big shot there, probably a connection of that female candidate, someone's got their eye on him."

"But didn't you say that your Earth is very safe, with hardly any enemies?" Pamela queried.

"It doesn't have to be super villains and aliens; can't it be his political enemies? This kind of thing has been happening since ancient times, it's unavoidable," Shiller responded.

"But don't they fear becoming the target of public wrath if they assassinate someone under these circumstances?"

"Fools have always existed, but I think a Congressman's political enemy wouldn't be particularly foolish, maybe he's confident that no one could trace it back to him," Shiller reasoned.

"Then there's still the possibility of it being a super villain," Tim said.

Shiller rolled his eyes, why couldn't he get it through his head? After thinking for a bit, he explained, "If the case looks like a normal assassination, there's no reason for it to be transferred to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s investigation procedures. Even if it were, it'd be investigated by regular agents first, unless it's confirmed to be the work of a powerful superpower user, in which case a superhero would be called in."

Just as Tim was about to ask something, Shiller continued, "Now, this isn't a world revolving around superheroes; issues within the realm of ordinary people should be handled by them. Currently, the core forces of the largest superhero organization, The Avengers, are basically off Earth. If they had to come back every day to settle minor disputes among humans, what would be the point of interstellar colonization?"

Both of them finally understood, and Pamela said with some concern, "But doesn't our case count as a superpower crime?"

"Who says? Aren't your Attacking Cabbages developed through scientific methods?"

"Yes, but ordinary people wouldn't want..."

"Who says they wouldn't? I bet Nick had thought of something similar before you developed your Attacking Cabbage. He would do anything to get off the hook with the law."

"Okay, what about the power of All Things Green?"

"Like I said, as long as it appears like an ordinary assassination case among humans, it won't trigger S.H.I.E.L.D.'s investigative protocols."

"But attacking cabbages don't seem..."

"I've told you, they were cultivated using scientific methods!"

"But how do we explain their presence at the crime scene?" asked Tim.

"A typical lab accident," Shiller said. "A batch of seeds got out of the lab and was bought by a careless horticulturist, who accidentally scattered them amongst the decorative plants. Then an even more negligent farmer bought them."

"Doesn't sound like a coincidence."

"Every day in America there are probably tens of thousands of such 'coincidences.' Labs churn out all sorts of things all the time; are we missing a couple of cabbages?" Shiller said.

"I always feel you're a bit unscrupulous." Pamela murmured softly at first, then repeated loudly, "You are really unscrupulous! And that Nick Fury is even more so!"

"Why 'even more'?" Shiller caught the hint.

Pamela started to falter, and after persistent questioning by Shiller, she finally said, "Nick told me to dismiss any other methods that involved getting the cabbage involved and to let you take the cabbage in, so that the cabbage could have a go at you too."

"That bastard!" Shiller swore. "He's getting back at me for not providing him with mental health invoices!"

"So why don't you give them to him?" Tim asked, somewhat curious.

"Because I have to give them to Stark, who pays me more."

"So you're saying you provide psychological counselling to S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, then use those invoices to swindle medical funds from Stark Group?"

"What do you mean 'swindle'!" Shiller put up his hand as he began to list reasons, "If a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent goes nuts and causes chaos, wouldn't The Avengers have to clean up after them? When The Avengers move out, doesn't it cost Stark both money and worry?"

"So what's the problem with me taking the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents' mental health invoices for a refund from Stark Group? I'm just resolving issues before they escalate, and the payment is well deserved!"

Pamela was thoroughly confused by his reasoning, but Tim pointed out sharply, "And then you recorded that sum as an intangible asset, helping to overstate corporate size for the purpose of tax deduction. What's the number for the Internal Revenue Service again?"

"Let's not," Shiller said, smiling sincerely at Tim. "Stark's been showing you his books already?"

"Need he? I did the same thing at Wayne Enterprises!"

"What's the number for the Internal Revenue Service again?"

After dinner, the group strolled on the beach, and then they learned the real reason behind Pamela's beach trip. The weather wasn't too cold yet, even at night, and the beach was swarming with bikini-clad beauties. Pamela quickly joined the crowd and started dancing.

Shiller and Tim found it a bit boring, so they casually found a seaside terrace to enjoy the view. It wasn't long before they heard a commotion at the end of the road and watched, eyes wide, as a group of people carrying banners marched past.

"What's this?" Shiller was also surprised. He took a close look at the banners and said, "California independence?"

"Old news," Tim replied. "California's culture is indeed different from the rest of America. Many people don't feel a sense of belonging and hate the U.S. Congress meddling in their affairs."

"It seems that the female candidate's situation isn't too good... Does this relate to someone planning to assassinate a Congressman at a farm gathering?"

"Of course." Tim turned around, resting his elbows on the railing, and said, "If you're going to assassinate someone, do it. Who makes it known to everyone, stirring up a storm before the act? Isn't it just to scare away the big shots who want to support the female candidate? This parade is no different."

"You seem too experienced for your age."

"Then you should ask Bruce," Tim retorted, irritated. "He's been missing for months, leaving me to handle the entire Wayne Enterprises. One day I'll just run off with all his assets..."

He had just spoken when a beer bottle came flying their way, and they dodged swiftly, only to see a burly guy in the crowd giving them the finger.

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