The next day, Midtown High School, New York.
Damian slammed a bundle of books—at least a dozen thick tomes brimming with knowledge—onto Jessica Campbell's table.
The table groaned under the sudden weight, as if the burden of knowledge itself were too much to bear.
Under Jessica's unwavering gaze, which seemed to say, "Knowledge points are static, but I can be one too," Damian shook his slightly sore hands and declared:
"I thought about it last night. If other people need to relearn basic plumbing concepts, your situation is more like the Three Gorges Dam releasing floodwaters!"
"Expecting you to finish the exam before time runs out isn't just hard on you—it's hard on us, too."
"So all I can do is deploy the ultimate weapon of Chinese education: the sea of questions strategy!"
"With about ten days until the exam, if you finish all these practice books, the final will be a piece of cake!"
Jessica stared at the three of them, their faces radiating earnest encouragement. After a long pause, she said solemnly:
"You might not believe this, but I just realized—I actually don't like riding motorcycles."
"In fact," she added brightly, "wearing a full-face helmet, cycling gear, and protective pads while pedaling a secondhand Phoenix bicycle at 9 kilometers per hour through the streets of New York sounds pretty cool to me!"
"…" ×3
Seeing their stunned expressions, Jessica knew her enthusiasm hadn't sold it. She pouted and asked plaintively:
"Do you have any methods to improve grades that don't involve cheating, grinding practice questions, or rote memorization?"
"I don't want to do homework!"
Damian rolled his eyes and snapped, "Sure—except the time limit's a bit tight."
"How tight?"
"It'll be gone by the time you wake up. Unless you pass out, of course. Then it's a whole different story."
Jessica leapt to her feet, ready to throttle that insufferable bastard Damian—but Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy quickly restrained her.
Glancing at the dozen hefty textbooks piled on the table, Jessica sighed inwardly and cursed herself for ever thinking to ask Damian for academic help.
......
Before anyone realized it, lunchtime had arrived. The midday sun filtered through the sycamore leaves, casting dappled shadows across the lawn.
Damian sat cross-legged in the shade, a slice of sausage dangling from his mouth as he idly flipped through a newspaper.
Peter Parker devoured a sandwich with mechanical efficiency, while Gwen Stacy sipped her yogurt with quiet elegance.
"Hey, everyone!"
Jessica suddenly appeared, clutching her lunchbox. Her long black hair shimmered gold in the sunlight. She winked conspiratorially and announced:
"I want to thank you guys for helping me study. How about we hit a bar tonight? My treat!"
Peter froze mid-bite, then said hesitantly, "A… bar? We're not even 21! Under New York law, we can't drink alcohol."
He continued without missing a beat: "Besides, acetaldehyde—a metabolite of ethanol—inhibits hippocampal neurogenesis, causes mitochondrial dysfunction in neurons, induces oxidative stress, and triggers apoptosis."
"Long-term alcohol abuse also reduces gray matter volume in the prefrontal cortex and can lead to organic conditions like Wernicke-Korsakoff syndrome, Marchiafava-Bignami disease, and increased error rates on the Wisconsin Card Sorting Test."
Before he could elaborate further, Jessica cut in: "Don't worry! I promise none of the drinks we order will contain alcohol!"
Damian set aside his newspaper, frowning. "Is it expensive? And it's not like we did anything special—just went over some questions and knowledge points. No need to spend money."
He remembered hearing in his past life that some American students sold blood twice a week—about $150 per donation—just to afford social expenses like coffee.
Some students frequently sell their blood to make a living—and even use the money they earn from it to treat classmates or friends to drinks like coffee or bubble tea.
Damian was afraid that Jessica Campbell might have a moment of madness and do something that would spike his blood pressure and make him want to slap himself every time he thought about it.
"Don't worry, it's not expensive at all!"
Jessica Campbell leaned forward excitedly, her eyebrows dancing with delight as she spoke:
"Students get a 30% discount, so a special drink is only six dollars. And…"
She suddenly lowered her voice and continued:
"And I heard the bar owner is super handsome—the kind of handsome that's devastating! He's also incredibly charismatic! Like a nobleman who just stepped out of a comic book."
"Have a drink there, and you can save money on hiring male models!"
"If I'm lucky, I might even get a cocktail personally mixed by the owner," she added with a mischievous giggle. "Hehehehe…"
At the words "male model," Gwen Stacy's yogurt spoon froze mid-air. She immediately asked, eyes gleaming with interest:
"What's the name of that bar you're talking about? Do you have a picture of the owner?"
Jessica's eyes lit up. "The bar is called Angel's Gift, and it's right next to that antique shop on Seventh Avenue. I don't have any photos, but my cousin went there last week and said the owner has red hair and always wears a retro suit. When he mixes drinks, it's as elegant as swordplay!"
"What?! Angel's Gift?"
At the mention of the bar's name, Damian let out an exclamation of surprise.
Gwen Stacy turned to look at Damian—whose sudden outburst had drawn puzzled glances from Peter Parker and Jessica Campbell—and asked curiously, "What's wrong? Is something the matter?"
Damian's mouth twitched slightly, but he said casually, "It's nothing. It's just that the name sounds a bit strange. Doesn't really sound like a bar—more like a pub."
Something's off, Damian thought. Didn't Mr. Diluc just buy a winery in Germany not long ago? When did he come back to New York?!
Seeing that Damian still looked confused, Jessica urged, "Forget about the name for now—just tell me if you're going tonight or not!"
Damian immediately nodded without hesitation. "Go? Of course I'll go! After hearing what you said, I think that boss must be just like me: a person of high moral character, outstanding talent, and undeniable handsomeness."
Upon hearing this, Peter Parker stroked his smooth chin and muttered under his breath, "Like you? Then this boss is pretty mediocre. At least his character's probably not great."
"What?" Damian shot back. "You say you miss Uncle George and want to have another heart-to-heart talk with him? No problem! I'll be sure to pass on your message."
"Trying to threaten me? Prepare to die!"
...
The two promptly launched into a mock wrestling match, sending sand flying as if they were crumbling sand sculptures.
Jessica Campbell and Gwen Stacy immediately stepped back, putting as much
distance as possible between themselves and the two idiots—as if avoiding something unspeakably unhygienic.
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