Nobody had any objection to opening with a feast. Ryū had no particular complaints either. And Tony Stark had put in enough preparation that the spread genuinely impressed — food from multiple countries, quantities that accounted for mbers with serious appetites.
He'd also clearly done so research on what Mid-Autumn Festival actually was. Because sitting in the middle of this enormous table, among dishes from across the world, were mooncakes.
Handmade mooncakes, by the look of them.
That kind of thing was not cheap.
Tony Stark was, within this world, operating at a level of wealth that few individuals on earth could match. The Black Panther was a king with a nation's resources behind him — that was a different category. But among private individuals, Stark was at the top.
The main seat had been left for Ryū, which he found harder to address than the mooncakes.
Shouldn't Tony, as host of this world, be in the main seat?
He glanced at Tony and caught, through Observation Haki, the faint dampness in Tony's palms.
The man is nervous.
On reflection — the Chat Group's mbership included multiple individuals capable of flattening a country. Being in a room with all of them simultaneously, hosting them, and sitting at the head of the table would have been a different kind of pressure than Tony was used to. Giving the host role to Ryū was the rational move.
Which left Ryū with the social obligation of sitting there and performing the role, which he found vaguely uncomfortable. He was adequately thick-skinned for it. He settled in.
The feast proceeded well. Group mbers knew each other through months of shared conversation and had no shortage of topics — the chat equivalent of a group that could talk for forty-eight hours without running dry. Every one of them was a devoted nocturnal creature by habit. Ryū suspected they could sustain this until dawn with their energy levels undiminished.
Soti around 3 AM, as the feast was winding down, a light fragrance drifted over — mixed with a faint alcohol trace — and a lazy, honeyed voice spoke from beside him.
"Admin, Kaguya and Tornado and I are going out to walk around a bit. Pick up so local items. Want to co?"
Shopping. I'm a man, there's nothing I need to shop for—
Actually, wait.
He'd burned through every manga, film, and ga Tatsumaki had sent him that matched his interests. The Marvel world presumably had its own dia output — gas, animation, films that wouldn't exist in other worlds. Browsing through those had so appeal.
The activity was running for five days. Three-odd hours had passed.
Before he could answer, Whitebeard's voice rose from across the table.
"Gurararara! I've had my fill — anyone want to play chess? Or mahjong? I've recently learned mahjong. The rules are clear to now, though I wouldn't claim mastery."
Across from him, Kizaru sipped his juice, wiped the corner of his mouth, and produced his usual expression. "In that case, a Marine Admiral versus a New World Emperor sounds like a decent matchup~ Many players, mahjong. Fewer, chess."
"Oh — chess? We accept." Ying Zheng's gaze moved to Yukari. "Yukari-senpai, are you not joining?"
Yukari shook her head lightly, produced a small dignified burp, and smiled. "Mn~ I'm afraid of crushing all of you. You go ahead and enjoy yourselves. I'm going shopping with Kaguya and the others." She turned to Ryū. "Admin, are you coming~?"
Ryū ca back to himself and nodded. "Fine. But I'm not carrying anything."
"Relax — I'll just put everything in my gap."
She waved her alabaster hand dismissively. Then addressed the assembled younger won with full sage energy:
"Little ones! Follow this sage forth!"
Kaguya: "…"
Tatsumaki: "…"
Sakura: "…"
Umaru: "…"
Eriri: "…"
Ryū: "…"
The gap youkai had consud sothing in the range of seven or eight bottles of spirits during the feast. A normal person at that intake level would have been in dical difficulty. A normal person would probably have already left this world via one route or another.
Yukari was slightly tipsy.
Her alcohol tolerance was genuinely sothing else.
Among those heading out — Yukari, Tatsumaki, and Ryū had all had so alcohol. Everyone else was underage and better staying away from the stuff. Ryū's justification for his own consumption was that his psychological and spiritual age were both well past adulthood, regardless of the seventeen-year-old body. So fruit juice would probably have tasted better anyway, in all honesty.
Left behind: Whitebeard, Kizaru, and Ying Zheng arranging their chess ga; Josuke and others clustering around a gaming setup.
Tony Stark let out a long, relieved breath.
The feast hadn't collapsed. Days of preparation, mooncake research, culinary logistics — all of it had apparently landed well.
"Naturally. Nothing I put my mind to fails ." He paused. "Now I need to find Wolffy. That new armour I've been working on — I want another set of eyes on it."
He thought about Wolffy for a mont.
The wolf was, genuinely, a remarkable scientist. Biology, chanical engineering, applied physics — the breadth was extraordinary. So of Wolffy's suggestions had produced genuine breakthroughs in directions Tony hadn't considered.
In the privacy of his own head, Tony Stark allowed himself one specific thought: Wolffy's scientific ability is just very slightly below mine.
He was not going to say this out loud.
Saying it out loud ant it had to survive contact with reality, which was a risk he wasn't taking.
On instinct, he found himself opening the Chat Group. Old habit — when he had a free mont, he'd check in. Surface occasionally to make his presence known.
He'd expected quiet. Everyone was physically present in the sa building.
The Chat Group was as active as ever.
Right. Multitasking is everyone's baseline here. They fight and chat simultaneously. A social gathering is nothing.
Eternally Seventeen: Ahaha — a group of two-dinsional beautiful girls walking down the streets of a live-action world! We're drawing quite a lot of attention! Including so rather specific categories of attention.
RawrSoFierce: You're not a beautiful girl in any aningful sense, and I can feel pedestrians staring at with intent to harm.
Eternally Seventeen: Well, I've been holding the Admin's arm, so naturally they assu we're a couple! Faced with soone as young and lovely as , they must think such fine jade has been wasted on an unworthy vessel.
Kaguya-sama: …Yukari-nee, that's MY arm you're holding!
RawrSoFierce: This gap youkai didn't just drink seven or eight bottles of spirits, did she.
RawrSoFierce: I think she's genuinely drunk right now.
Eternally Seventeen: Nonsense! My alcohol tolerance is exceptional!
Eternally Seventeen: Who in Gensokyo can out-drink ?
My True Form Is Cola: Senpai, you just finished three full bottles of "Water of Life" at the feast. That's 96-proof alcohol.
Edward Newgate: Ah, so that's where it all went — I only managed two bottles before I noticed there was nothing left.
Admiral Kizaru: My my~ Whitebeard, I've taken seven of your pieces now~ Wouldn't you like to concede?
Edward Newgate: Absolutely not! "Concede" doesn't exist in Whitebeard's vocabulary! Keep playing — this old man will deal with you yet!
Ying Zheng The Sovereign: …This sovereign has now observed the ojii-sama's chess technique in detail.
Edward Newgate: Ahem! I was simply going easy on you.
I'm Rolling In It: …
"…"
Nobody in this group was normal. Especially that Yukari-senpai — seven or eight bottles of Water of Life, 96 proof, and she was mildly tipsy?
Tony himself had once had a small glass of the stuff and nearly needed his stomach pumped.
She wasn't human.
Right. She explicitly wasn't human. She was a youkai.
Which probably ant the most normal person in this group was, in fact, Uncle Tony.
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