Clark shoved the entire maple pastry into his mouth.
"Didn't you eat?"
Mark looked at Clark's expression as if watching a giant python devouring the neighbor's pet cat.
Clark swallowed the pastry and managed to say to him, "Huh?"
"I'm talking about your table manners, Clark. I see you eat every day, but your table manners are always so unique."
Clark, however, felt that he was quite normal.
"Ms. Kelly's cooking is better than Godfather's, so sometimes I eat more."
A week had passed since Star-Lord arrived at the farm, and Mark had gradually begun to adapt to life with Kelly and Star-Lord in the house.
Although he still disliked Star-Lord from the bottom of his heart.
He always felt that this guy would threaten his inheritance of the farm.
After all, this kid even took the same name as his father.
But he couldn't show his dissatisfaction at home, because it would make his father angry.
Moreover, Ms. Kelly's cooking was also better than his father's, and if he tried to drive her away, it would be more trouble than it was worth.
The conflicted feelings made him very unhappy.
"You might need to maintain your figure. You eat even more than Star-Lord."
Star-Lord had a huge appetite even as a baby, completely unlike a normal infant.
The result was that Star-Lord became rounder and rounder.
Mark said to Clark, "Otherwise, you'll soon become a fat person like Darr or Star-Lord."
"It's okay, Godfather said my metabolism is like a rabbit's."
"Alright, Mr. Rabbit."
Mark turned his gaze to Ms. Nancy's shop across the street.
Across the road, he saw the flickering neon lights on the display window. The text on the neon lights was exceptionally eye-catching: Psychic Fortune-telling, Palmistry, Tarot Card Reading.
"Mr. Rabbit, would you like to try fortune-telling?"
He planned to drag Clark to have his fortune told.
"No, I don't have any money."
Clark expressed a desire for fortune-telling but lacked the funds.
"It's okay, I have some."
Mark said, pulling out a ten-dollar bill, "This is my pocket money from mowing the lawn. We can give it a try."
"Alright, I also want to know if Ms. Nancy can really tell fortunes."
Clark gladly followed Mark to the divination house.
After pushing open the door, what greeted the two was a small shop with fluorescent lights, frequented by knitting enthusiasts.
Brown shelves displayed soft blankets, baby hats, and bundles of yarn.
Ms. Nancy, sitting behind the table, looked at the two mischievous children who had come in with surprise.
"Welcome, children, is there anything I can do for you?"
Nancy did not drive them away because they were children; instead, she asked them in a gentle tone.
"Hello, Ms. Nancy, I'd like a divination."
Mark tried his best to act like an adult.
"Uh-huh, forty dollars, and I can give you some guidance, children."
Nancy stated that for forty dollars, she could help them with fortune-telling and divination.
"But I only have ten dollars, Ms. Nancy. If your fortune-telling is accurate, perhaps we'll buy a hat you knitted, or something else, in the future."
Mark started to make promises.
"Deal!"
Ms. Nancy took the banknote from Mark's hand and tucked it into the collar of her wool shirt.
"What do you want to know?"
After having the two sit down, Ms. Nancy asked them.
"I want to know…"
After a moment of hesitation, Mark quickly glanced at Clark, then said, "Will you be honest? Ms. Nancy?"
"I promise."
"No cheating, no hiding."
"Of course."
"Alright."
Mark finally made up his mind and asked the other party, "Um… Can you help me figure out if I can inherit my father's farm?"
"What?!"
Hearing Mark's question, Nancy was instantly stunned.
Is this child already thinking about his family's farm at such a young age?
"Your parents are…?"
She cautiously asked Mark.
"Peter Patrick."
"It's him, I know him."
A smile appeared at the corner of Ms. Nancy's mouth, "You want to inherit your father's farm, right, John?"
"Yes, but now there's a different situation."
Mark said with some distress, "I suddenly have a younger brother."
"You think he will threaten you?"
Ms. Nancy became even more surprised.
Are children nowadays so mature?
"Yes, I think there's a possibility."
"I don't think that's what you should be concerned about right now, but, John, I'm willing to help you with a divination, through palmistry psychic readings."
Nancy said, asking them to hold out their hands.
Clark pointed to himself in surprise, "Me too?"
"Of course, I can divine your fates, both of you, Clark, you're a bonus."
Clark nodded and hesitantly placed his hand on the other's palm.
Ms. Nancy's hand was very warm, but Clark shivered as if he had been electrocuted.
The three sat quietly, no one speaking.
Suddenly!
Ms. Nancy's hand suddenly gripped Mark and Clark tightly, like a flytrap.
Ms. Nancy's widened eyes, the whites of her eyes beginning to turn red from bursting blood vessels, as if she had seen something terrifying.
Feeling the other's hand growing warmer and warmer, Clark felt as if the other person wanted to melt his hand.
The two saw the other's head suddenly shake wildly.
Blood also dripped from her nose, staining the tablecloth drop by drop.
Ms. Nancy's frightening behavior made Clark immediately pull his hand out of her grip.
Mark also quickly pulled his hand out, and both simultaneously took a step back, staring wide-eyed at Ms. Nancy, who was convulsing.
"Ms. Nancy, are you alright?"
Clark quietly asked her.
"You… who exactly are you?"
Ms. Nancy looked at the two with suspicion, breathing heavily and wiping the blood from under her nose.
"What do you mean?"
Nancy pointed at Mark and said, "You have something deep, black, and withered on you. It's calling for its mother like a lost child. You are the hand of the God of Death, you are a machine of Death. I… I can hear the sound of belts turning, wheels turning!"
Saying that, she pulled out the ten-dollar bill and, with the fastest movement, stuffed it into Mark's pocket.
"Take it, I won't take your money. I don't want to be involved with him. You two leave here quickly!"
"Wait!"
Mark still wanted to speak, but the two were directly pushed out.
Standing at the doorway, Mark scratched his head, feeling a bit frustrated.
He didn't quite understand why the other person said that about him.
But he seemed to understand a little.
He often dreamed of terrifying things, eerie laboratories, bloody human experiments. This was probably why the other person said he was the God of Death.
Unfortunately, he didn't get an answer about the farm's inheritance.
He sighed with some regret and looked at Clark, finding him looking absent-minded.
"Clark, are you okay?"
"I… I seem to have seen something terrifying."