Marvel: A Lazy-Ass Superman

Chapter 412: Chapter 412 — Indian Cuisine

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As a subcontinent, India has long been one of the most intense crossroads of Eastern and Western peoples and cultures. Yet unlike many regions shaped by conquest, no single force completely suppressed the other. Climate, geography, and trade instead blended influences into something distinctly Indian.

After Columbus ”discovered” the New World and European powers such as Britain and Portugal established colonial footholds in India, they brought not only new crops but also new culinary techniques. In time, Indian cuisine would even flow back and reshape the food culture of its former colonizers.

But perhaps the most profound influence came from India’s central role in the global spice trade. For centuries, spices were gathered and distributed through India before being shipped across Eurasia.

Take curry, for instance. It is less a single dish than a ”United Nations of spices.” Depending on the region, anywhere from eighty to over three hundred ingredients may find their way into a curry blend. Such culinary extravagance could only emerge in a land where spices were abundant; in spice-scarce regions, no one would dare cook so lavishly.

Thus, one defining feature of Indian cuisine is simple:

It is unapologetically generous with spices.

Indian barbecue, for example, does not rely solely on soy sauce or salt for marination. Meats are soaked in mixtures of spices, yogurt, and lemon juice, tenderizing them while infusing deep layers of flavor.

Indian fried rice incorporates cinnamon, cloves, star anise, fennel, coriander, and more—often customized with regional ingredients depending on the state.

Staples are not limited to rice, either. Flatbreads in countless variations serve as dietary pillars, each prepared with distinct techniques.

All of this came as a pleasant surprise to Henry—who had arrived in India prepared to be satisfied so long as no one served him Ganges water and E. coli levels stayed within survivable limits.

Henry’s attitude toward food was simple: he did not belittle or compare cuisines. Nostalgic comfort and familiar flavors were one thing. Exploring something entirely new was another.

The latter required two qualities:

A spirit of adventure.

And an iron stomach.

Fortunately, as a Kryptonian, Henry possessed both—and even enjoyed testing them.

Kingo’s banquet that evening exceeded expectations. Every dish seemed to expand Henry’s culinary vocabulary and awaken his palate.

Even Katie surprised him.

The tiger devoured the grilled meats with rare enthusiasm. Normally, when presented with both raw and cooked meat, Katie would prioritize the raw cuts, only glancing at cooked food if still hungry afterward.

Henry’s barely concealed astonishment did not escape Kingo’s notice.

The Eternal—who had lived roughly seven thousand years, give or take—laughed.

”This is India. One of the most biodiverse places on Earth. One of the few lands where lions and tigers both exist.

”You didn’t think you were the only one capable of raising a tiger, did you?

”Throughout history, kings have kept fierce beasts to demonstrate their power. If someone raises them, someone must feed them.

”And merely feeding them plain meat is hardly impressive. The real artistry lies in feeding them creatively.

”India has long had palace cuisine specifically designed for lions and tigers—crafted to stimulate their appetite. Most people have no idea such traditions exist.”

Henry sighed. ”Well. You’ve successfully reminded me that I belong to the ’most people’ category.”

Kingo burst into laughter.

The rotund chef stood nearby, impeccably clean and meticulous about hygiene. Though he did not understand English, Kingo occasionally conversed with him in Hindi, and the two shared frequent chuckles.

Fortunately, they were not mocking the naïve foreigner. They were reminiscing about the peculiarities of tiger cuisine.

The chef had once questioned why his family’s inherited palace recipes included dishes meant specifically for big cats. The flavors were unusual—nothing a human would normally prefer.

In ancient courts, royal chefs had to gauge a tiger’s reaction rather than verbal feedback. The animals could not critique seasoning. The chefs could only observe appetite and behavior, refining recipes accordingly.

It required either great dedication—or too much free time.

The chef had once resisted learning such seemingly useless skills. But, as tradition dictated, paternal discipline prevailed—and the craft survived.

Mid-conversation, Henry abruptly interjected in Hindi:

”Chef, would you be willing to teach me these recipes?”

The chef blinked in surprise.

”Mr. Brown—you speak Hindi?”

Henry nodded. ”I’ve watched a few Bollywood films before. And before coming here, I studied from a Hindi-English textbook. I wasn’t confident about my accent, so I didn’t dare speak earlier.”

Kingo switched to Hindi as well.

”Your pronunciation leans toward Calcutta—colonial-era usage. The textbook you used must be an older edition.”

”Not surprising,” Henry replied dryly.

The chef chuckled. ”Proud white men.”

He immediately froze and apologized.

”Sorry, Mr. Brown—I didn’t mean—”

”It’s fine,” Henry replied self-deprecatingly. ”White people are often proud. That’s not incorrect.”

Only Kingo caught the deeper irony—that Henry spoke not merely as a white man, but as a Kryptonian. The Eternal laughed softly.

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As dessert was served and masala chai—milk tea brewed directly with spices—warmed the air, Kingo returned to business in English.

”Henry, how do you intend to structure operations in India? Do you have authority to make decisions on Stark Pictures’ behalf?”

Henry sipped his tea calmly.

”It’s flexible. Profits—set them reasonably.

”You can establish the company structure as you see fit. It can be a Stark Pictures overseas subsidiary or a joint venture with Indian stakeholders.

”I share digital imaging patents fifty-fifty with Stark Pictures. Even when integrated into equipment, I retain roughly thirty percent of revenue share.

”At worst, I convert my share of Western profits into Indian market share. Stark Pictures’ income in Europe and America won’t decrease.

”Even if Tony Stark himself objected, he’d have little ground.”

Kingo raised an eyebrow.

”That is a considerable sum. You don’t mind?”

Henry smiled faintly.

”Is money that important?”

Kingo considered this seriously before nodding.

”Money is important.”

Then he laughed.

”But not that important.

”We live within social rules. We support many people. So yes—money matters.

”But unlike most, we can abandon those rules at any time. In that sense, money matters far less.

”The fact that you understand this... proves we are of the same kind.”

Finally, Kingo added:

”Don’t worry. You won’t suffer in the company’s formation. I still need your intellect to help my friend.”

Henry did not boast.

”I’ll do my best. But I won’t promise miracles without seeing her condition first.”

”That,” Kingo replied warmly, ”is enough.”

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