Don't get me wrong, Stark wasn't so kind-hearted. He opened the life support device with the purpose of thoroughly shaking Reed's brain without endangering his life, so that Tony Stark could become the legitimately smartest person in the cosmos.
The mecha had just touched down when Reed burst out from inside and started vomiting wildly, turning into a limp noodle.
But to everyone's surprise, Susan was one of those scientists with relatively normal daily routines. She had gotten up early. When she came down the stairs and caught sight of Reed's condition, she was shocked and hurried over to support him next to the sink.
Seeing that he had inadvertently created an opportunity for the two of them to be alone, Stark was even less pleased. But the sight of the mecha's hand holding a bunch of food ingredients and the thought of cooking breakfast for Pepper made him somewhat excited.
Stark, holding the groceries, came to the kitchen island platform, just as Shiller had finished tidying up and turned to leave the kitchen.
Everyone had been drinking the night before, so there might be hangovers. He planned to make some refreshing ice drinks to energize everyone.
Stark stood alone in the kitchen, stunned.
"Oh, God, did no one punch me in the head yesterday? Why does my head hurt so much?!" Peter was leaning on the railing of the second-floor patio, the muscles around his eyes all crumpled together, the consequences of his hangover laid bare.
He staggered down the stairs, clearly not yet fully awake, but unable to sleep because of his headache.
Shiller was starting the ice shaver as he spoke, "It's your own fault for insisting on playing Depth Charges last night, mixing four or five types of liquor – it'd be strange if your head didn't hurt."
"Really? Was I that much of a jerk?"
"Hey, kid, you're of age now, and your father-in-law isn't here, how could drinking make you a jerk?" countered Stark.
Peter walked over and collapsed at the bar, resting his head on his arms until Shiller handed him a drink. It was like catching a lifeline; Peter put in the straw and took a long, deep sip, letting out a long sigh.
"What do you guys think I should make?" Stark, hands on hips, paced around the kitchen, looking left and right, picking up a sauce bottle one moment, fidgeting with the spatula the next.
Peter mumbled vaguely, "Do you know how to cook?"
"How could I not know how to cook?!"
"What does Ms. Pepper like to eat for breakfast?"
"I rarely eat breakfast with her; she's always rushed off to the company before I wake up, but I remember smelling strong coffee in her office once, so she must love coffee, right?"
"Then start up the coffee machine." Peter yawned and rubbed his eyes, becoming a bit more sober, and then asked, "What beans does she like?"
"Uh, I don't know."
"How about the roasting level?"
Stark waved his hand dismissively, "The coffee machines at Stark Building are all smart; if you want coffee, you just have to ask, how would I know about that?"
"Then you should ask Jarvis," Peter stretched, poked the ice in his glass with the straw, and threw a piece of apple from the north side into his mouth.
Seeing this, Shiller couldn't help but smile. He knew Peter had an obsession with eating every bit of food.
Whether it was due to his humble upbringing or the teachings of his aunt and uncle, Peter always finished every bit of food on his plate.
That included the decorative broccoli, parsley leaves, and basil leaves used in Western plating, as well as the tropical style garnishes on drink cups, even the sour kumquats and limes that could sour enough to kill, he would eat it all.
The apple slice was very thin; Peter chewed it a couple of times and then swallowed it, smacking his lips and saying, "Why does this apple taste a bit strange?"
Shiller thought to himself with a secret chuckle, it tasted strange to you because you didn't look closely at the peel. If you were awake, you wouldn't have missed that the apple peel was golden.
Peter didn't think much of it and continued drinking his beverage, but within two seconds, he began patting his head somewhat oddly, "Doctor, what did you put in this drink? Why doesn't my head hurt anymore?"
"Just a bit of painkiller, I knew you guys would be suffering from hangovers," Shiller said casually as he turned around to mix other drinks.
Peter didn't make much of it, just leaned sleepily against the bar, watching the sun gradually rise from the sea.
At this point, Stark had already texted Jarvis asking what kind of coffee Pepper liked and what kind of breakfast she preferred.
Jarvis seemed to have been up for a while and quickly replied with a long list. Stark looked at it and said, "Nothing special, just some toast, fried eggs, and ham and the like. Completely doable!"
After that, he went to fetch eggs from the newly bought supplies. The eggs from the supermarket came on a carton with a handle that could be used to carry them, and Stark didn't think too much about it and reached out to grab it.
Unfortunately, a corner of the carton snagged on the plastic bag, and when Stark pulled, one side of the handle broke off, and the carton containing a dozen eggs plummeted straight down.
Smack!
Stark opened his mouth and closed his eyes, not daring to watch the messy scene unfold, but as he expected, the scene of the egg carton hitting the ground never happened, as one hand caught it.
Stark thought it was Shiller who had teleported over with his gray mist, but when he looked up, it turned out to be Peter.
He didn't react at first and was just about to praise Peter, but then he thought about it and said, somewhat surprised, "What's going on, Peter? Didn't you lose your Spider-Man powers?"
"I don't know." Peter was also bewildered, "I haven't fully woken up yet, but my body seemed to move on its own."
This accident completely jolted Peter awake. He looked down at his hands with a bit of shock, while Stark kept staring at him.
Noticing Stark's gaze, Peter looked up and met his eyes. Stark inspected him closely, then said, "Peter, have you noticed that you look a bit..."
"A bit what?"
"Well, uh... you look younger."
"What?!"
Peter immediately stepped over a pile of plastic bags and went to the floor-to-ceiling window to look at his reflection.
Upon a careful look, he realized that saying he had gotten younger wasn't quite accurate; it was more like he was in better condition.
After passing on his spider abilities to Miles, Peter's body naturally wasn't as robust as before and lacked energy. Yet, his work remained as busy as ever, often with his days and nights reversed, and it was inevitable that he would fall into a cycle of sub-health.
Dark circles had become part of his daily look, and his stubble often went untrimmed because of lack of time; his complexion also seemed a bit gray, and aches in his back, legs, and neck were common.
A hospital check-up didn't reveal any major issues—these were all common ailments of modern workers, so Peter didn't pay them much mind.
Carrying so many negative states, it was hard not to look older; Peter felt he had matured a lot in recent years, and he had already been considering growing a beard.
In America, there are certain stereotypes about mature males. First, if you don't have a beard, you are never really considered a tough guy. Most men who present a mature image tend to sport a beard, just like Stark, Strange, and Reed.
Besides being a masculine trait, grooming a beard requires time, patience, and skill. Having a well-groomed beard also signifies a comfortable and affluent life, reflecting one's social status.
Peter turned his face while standing in front of the glass and found that his dark circles had completely vanished. Those blue stubbles from lack of sleep had disappeared too, and his dark brown hair had become pitch black and thick, improving in quality, and it even shimmered with healthy gloss without any hair gel.
He also noticed that his eyes had brightened. Looking closer, his pupils didn't seem to have changed, but his eyes just felt more vibrant.
And, perhaps it was his imagination, his physique seemed to have returned to its peak condition at 18. He pulled open his shirt and saw that his abs, which had been somewhat slack due to recent neglect in exercise, were now firm again.
With all these factors combined, one would naturally appear more vibrant and thus seem younger. Plus, Peter naturally had a sunny and cheerful disposition. Anyone looking at Peter now would think he was an energetic 18-year-old lad.
Looks aside, the key was what was going on with his powers. Had the Spider Totem reconsidered?
To verify whether his powers had truly returned, Peter wanted to have a spar with Stark, but Stark wasn't foolish. If you've become Spider-Man again, how am I supposed to withstand your punch?
While talking with Peter, Stark quietly maneuvered the mecha that had just been used for grocery shopping behind Peter and swung a fist at him.
Peter swiftly tilted his head and dodged the mecha's punch but then frowned, looking back at the mecha and said, "It feels a bit off, different from the original spider sense."
"How is it different?"
"I can't quite put my finger on it, it just feels a bit weak, and my strength isn't as great as before." After saying this, Peter pinched the mecha's wrist with a bit of force, causing the mecha to stumble.
Stark stared at him and said, "You call this lack of strength?"
"If it were the old me, this mecha would have flown over there by now." Peter pointed behind Stark, who followed his gaze through the kitchen window, looking out to the backyard of the Stone House.
Shiller looked on and understood everything.
When obtaining the Golden Apple, the guardians of the Golden Apple Garden, the Hesperides Sisters, had mentioned that the Golden Apples could grant immortality and eternal youth.
But on further thought, if the apple were eaten by someone in their seventies or eighties, fixing their status at that time would hardly constitute eternal youth. They would necessarily have to rejuvenate.
Yet upon reflection, the principle of rejuvenation probably wasn't about reversing one's own time. Let alone Golden Apples, even Zeus didn't possess such power. In both the DC and Marvel cosmos, time is a fundamental rule of the universe, managed by specialized abstract Gods. Modifying and interfering with time requires special talent, which isn't something an apple can accomplish.
Shiller guessed that the power of the Golden Apple was based on Divine Power, meaning the fruit was akin to a compressed godly power cookie. One bite would grant a substantial amount of divine power, which explained why ordinary people didn't need to eat much of it; their bodies couldn't store that much divine power, and eating more would be a waste.
Therefore, it was very likely that the principle by which divine power induced rejuvenation was by using divine power to transform each organ back to its peak condition and maintaining this peak state with divine power.
Because the energy contained within average human bodies was minimal, their peak organs weren't all that fantastic, so only a small amount of divine power was needed to keep them eternally youthful.
In other words, if such an apple were given to an alien race that used magic, even eating an entire apple might not be enough for their immortality; essentially, the difference was energy consumption.