As neighbors of the Pym family, Melin and Galon certainly gained a lot of entertainment—especially when there was a little quarrel between father and daughter, Hope would come running to Melin's house to complain.
"You think so too, right? Hank was totally out of line!" Hope pouted as she complained.
"Yeah yeah, that jerk of a dad, if it were me, I'd punch him right in the—ow!"
"Punch? I'll give you a punch! Go work on your thesis!"
Before Galon could finish his sentence, Melin mercilessly punched him out and dragged him upstairs to toss into a room.
"Ahahaha! Uncle Melin, the way you and Uncle Galon get along is so funny!"
Hope had seen this happen countless times: she'd complain, Galon would give some awful advice, and Melin would knock him out and throw him upstairs. It had become a standard routine.
And even after seeing it so many times, it still made her laugh and lifted all the frustration and gloom from her heart.
"Galon, really…" Melin sighed, rubbing his temple.
Though Galon still looked young on the outside, he was actually over fifty, and outside of battle, his personality remained childlike and unpredictable. He was nothing like the mature and dependable Galon Melin remembered from the past.
"Could it be that my appearance caused Galon to grow crooked?" Melin began to suspect.
But he quickly shook his head and dismissed the idea. The Saints of the Sanctuary had all been trained by him personally, and none of them had gone off the rails—except Galon. So the problem clearly wasn't on his side.
"By the way, Uncle Melin, I've always been curious—why does Uncle Galon call you 'my lord'? Aren't you two brothers?" Hope asked.
"Oh, that…" Melin paused to come up with an excuse, and then pointed at his head. "You know there's an illness called chuunibyou? Kind of a brain issue."
"Eh~? There's really such an illness?" Hope asked curiously.
"Yep, totally my fault. Spoiled him too much when he was a kid—bought him loads of legendary tales and superhero comics. Now he always sees himself as the protagonist of some story and says the most embarrassing stuff like, 'Taste my Imperial Phantom Fist!' or 'Take this—Galactic Starburst!' and so on."
"But… why do I think that sounds really cool?"
Bonk.
Melin flicked Hope on the forehead in annoyance. He really didn't want her to be influenced. He imagined a future version of the wise and brave second-generation Wasp pointing at an enemy and shouting, "In the name of the gods, be destroyed!"
Nope. Delete that thought immediately. It's nightmare fuel.
"Hope, listen to me."
"Uh… okay…" Hope sat up straight, startled by Melin's sudden serious tone.
"Chuunibyou might not be fatal, but it's still pretty scary. You know how some people, though dead, still live on in people's hearts? And some people, though alive, are already dead inside? Imagine standing in the middle of a crowded street, striking a power pose with arms akimbo, shouting, 'Time of blessings! Supreme kindness! Supreme virtue! Supreme king of all! Ohma Zi-O!'—would you say that person's alive or dead?"
Following Melin's description, Hope's imagination filled in the scene… and then—
"Thank you, Uncle. I know what I must do now!" Hope deleted the mental image and completely cleared it from memory, sincerely thanking Melin.
"Good girl," Melin said, smiling warmly. Hope really was a good kid—unlike a certain someone upstairs who couldn't even defeat a thesis.
"Uncle… I'm not a good kid," Hope whispered, her head lowered—not out of shyness, but sadness.
"Why not? Realizing your mistakes and making changes—that's what makes a good kid."
"But… I've always treated Hank badly. I always tried to make things hard for him. I know that's wrong… but he… he just won't tell me where Mom went…"
As she spoke, Hope began to cry softly. She missed her mother. The last time she saw her was one evening when both her parents left for work—but only her dad came back. Her mom never returned. She kept asking why, but her dad would always dodge the question.
At first, Hope genuinely believed Hank had done something to hurt her mom, which was why she left. So she treated him badly.
But over time, Hank's consistent expressions of love for Janet made even young Hope feel his sincerity. She no longer believed Janet left because of something Hank did. But that only made her more desperate to know why Janet never came back.
Yet Hank had never given her an answer.
"Hope, you're still young. There are things you don't yet understand. Adults have their own burdens. Try to understand Hank. His love for your mother, and for you—it's sincere and great. You can be mad at him, sulk, throw tantrums—but don't reject his love. Understand?"
"Mm… I get it, Uncle Melin. But… until he tells me where Mom went, I won't call him Dad." Hope turned her head away.
"Haha, you stubborn kid."
"Uncle, can I… stay a bit longer? Please don't make me go home yet," Hope asked pitifully.
"Of course. What do you want for dinner?" Melin asked.
"Hot pot!"
Melin's smile froze. Hot pot? Was she serious?
Sure enough, the next moment, there was a knock at the door.
Melin flicked Hope's forehead, gave her a warning look, then got up to answer the door.
Hope covered her forehead and stuck her tongue out at Melin's back, then giggled quietly. She knew he had seen through her little scheme—but he didn't say no!
Yes! Just wait, Hank!
Melin opened the door with a blank expression. Outside stood Hank—
"Hey, Melin! Look, I bought—" Hank smiled brightly, holding up two big bags.
Bam!
Before he could finish, Melin shut the door right in his face. Hank, about to step forward, almost smashed into it.
"Melin, open up! You can't treat your friendly neighbor like this! My daughter's inside! Open up!"
After a while of knocking, Melin opened the door again.
"Mel—"
Hank tried to speak, but Melin cut him off.
"We're having hot pot tonight. You coming in?"
Hearing that, Hank's smile froze. The area under his thighs clenched instinctively. His hands went limp—if not for Melin's quick reflexes, the groceries would've hit the ground.
"I didn't offend you, did I?" Hank asked pitifully.
"Hope ordered it," Melin said with amusement.
Thud.
Hank's heart dropped. He looked over and saw Hope sticking her tongue out at him through a gap in the door. His heart filled with cold sorrow.
But to win her approval, Hank clenched his teeth, steeled his resolve, and went for it!
"No problem! I love hot pot!"
"Uncle Melin! I want full spice!"
Hank: (ノへ￣,) My sweet daughter… how could you be so heartless?!
"You still coming in?" Melin's smile deepened.
"Of course! Let's do this!"
"Come on in, then."
Melin watched Hank stride in like a warrior off to battle, his expression solemn. He barely held back laughter.
…
Bright red like blood, gleaming like fire, churning like molten lava—the heat was overwhelming. Sweat poured down, and the hot air stung the skin.
"Hank, if I were you, I'd just go for it! We're all men here!" Galon grinned mischievously, stoking the flames.
He was 100% on Hope's side. If Hank made a fool of himself, Galon would applaud. He might even record it.
Last time he ended up in the hospital, he secretly recorded his "serious" conversation with the doctor. He still had the footage, and sometimes rewatched it for laughs. He'd even thought about showing it off to his old friends in the Sanctuary. Fun was better when shared!
"Hank, maybe… it's okay to back out. I wouldn't think less of you."
Galon gave Hope a thumbs-up under the table.
Nice! Now that's a team player. Perfect support. That last line? Totally cut off Hank's retreat.
Already hesitating, Hank couldn't take that. No way he'd back down now! Even if it meant death! A true warrior dares to face life's harshness, confront blood, and endure the torment of spicy hot pot!
His trembling hand picked up a thin slice of beef, dropped it into the boiling magma. It was instantly tossed around by the bubbling broth, turning from raw red to perfectly cooked.
Then it went into his bowl, dipped again and again in sesame oil to wash away the heat.
Finally, under the expectant eyes of Hope and Galon, Hank put it in his mouth.
"Mmgh~!"
Hank's eyes widened, his jaw clenched, but his teeth wouldn't stop chattering.
It was fire! Roaring flames filling his mouth! Hank wanted to become a dragon and let out a mighty roar, announcing the return of the king!
Chew chew chew… gulp~
The fire spread—defying physics—from his mouth to his throat, to his guts, and finally his stomach!
"Huff… huff… huff…"
Hank was drenched in sweat, his clothes soaked through, his eyes bloodshot. But his expression was proud. He had once again overcome a great challenge—to become a hero in his daughter's eyes…
Hank turned proudly toward Hope, expecting her praise, only to realize—
She wasn't even watching. She was happily chatting and eating with Melin and Galon.
Pffft— A mouthful of blood stuck in Hank's chest, demanding release.
"Here, have some water. Take a break," Melin said with a chuckle, handing him a glass of ice-cold lemon water.
Gulp gulp gulp~ Hank downed it all, finally feeling like he had escaped death's embrace and come back to life.
"Hank, you're so weak."
"Yeah, seriously. Can't even handle that little spice."
Melin rolled his eyes and kicked both of them under the table, then consoled Hank, "It's okay, Hank, take your time. You're just—"
"Don't say another word!" Hank raised a hand to cut him off.
It was over. He was done for.
"I will conquer this hot pot tonight! No more water!"