Marvel : I'm in Westview Town-Chapter 187

It was hard to tell how much time had passed.

At the long dining table in the great hall, the old patriarch of the Angel Faction had already prepared a feast for Finn and the others.

This time was different from the last. The table was piled with far more food, and the scent that filled the air was overwhelming, almost intoxicating. A thick aroma coated the entire hall, enough to make anyone's stomach rumble involuntarily.

"Old patriarch, you really didn't have to go this far. We can't even finish all this," Finn said, casting a bewildered glance across the table.

For someone like him, these kinds of material things were trivial. What really mattered was the lingering anger in his heart—the rage that burned toward the demon invaders, like a splinter under the skin.

The old patriarch waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense. This is nothing. What matters is that you enjoy yourselves. You've done so much for our Angel Faction. It weighs heavily on my heart if I don't express our gratitude."

He was sincere. Without the intervention of Finn and his group, the Angel Faction might have already been wiped out by the demonic forces. Their sanctuary would've been reduced to ashes.

For the old patriarch, this wasn't just hospitality—it was a necessary gesture of thanks.

"All right," Finn relented with a small nod. "Since you insist, I'll accept."

"Come on, let's see how everything turned out," the old patriarch said, eyes gleaming with hope.

The dishes might not have been exotic by cosmic standards, but to the inhabitants of this dimension, they were delicacies. The old man hoped that the guests from beyond would appreciate the effort.

"Hmm, not bad at all," Finn said after a bite, nodding slightly. "Your people have quite the talent for cooking."

He meant it. The ingredients weren't rare, but the preparation showed skill—years of refined technique. The Angel Faction's culinary prowess was genuinely impressive.

"As long as you like it!" the patriarch replied, beaming. The lines on his face scrunched together with joy.

At that moment, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Two young men entered the room.

"Father, treating the guests again?" one of them asked with a smirk.

One of the men looked to be in his late twenties, with short blond hair and a devilish smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. The other was slightly younger, wearing crisp white casual wear, with black-rimmed glasses giving him an air of gentle intelligence.

"Alo, Serena, you're back," the old patriarch greeted them with visible relief. "How did the mission go?"

"It was fine," Alo, the blond one, replied with a shrug.

"Oh?" the patriarch raised an eyebrow. "How was the haul?"

Alo, the field leader of the Angel warriors, was powerful and experienced. Every expedition he led usually returned with substantial resources. He was one of their strongest assets.

"Pretty good," Alo grinned. "We'll be having some barbecue tonight."

Then his gaze shifted, landing on Finn and the others. His expression changed slightly, his eyes narrowing.

"Who are they?"

"They are the saviors of the Angel Faction," the old patriarch said solemnly, gesturing toward Finn. "Show them the respect they deserve."

He didn't need to elaborate. Finn and his companions had not only saved their lives but were clearly formidable in their own right.

"Understood," Alo and Serena nodded almost in unison. Defying their father's words wasn't an option.

Still, their curiosity was piqued. The energy radiating from the newcomers was unlike anything they'd felt before. It was almost... divine.

"Where are you from?" Alo asked, his gaze settling on Finn.

"Another universe," Finn answered plainly.

"Another universe? A high-level one?" Alo's tone was edged with disbelief and awe. "Only high-tier realms have energy that pure... and beings that strong."

"Close enough," Finn replied. "Your domain is chaotic."

He wasn't wrong. Compared to the higher multiversal layers—like the realms Mephisto or the Living Tribunal operated in—this place was an unstable nexus.

"So it really is a high-level universe..." Alo breathed, stunned. Awe replaced arrogance on his face. "Our ancestors explored such realms. Most never returned."

High-tier universes—those governed by entities like Eternity, the Beyonders, or the One Above All—were the stuff of myth in Alo's world.

"Do you wish to travel there?" Finn asked, eyebrow arched. The boy's envy was almost palpable.

"Yes! I want to grow stronger. That's the only place where I can advance!" Alo declared with conviction.

Finn shook his head.

"You're not ready. That's not a place you just visit on a whim."

Confusion spread across the faces of the room's younger occupants. Why not? Was it a matter of strength or something more?

"Why?" Alo asked again, frowning.

"It's not about why. It just is," Finn replied. His tone left no room for debate.

At that moment, the old patriarch stepped in.

"That's enough. If Finn says no, then no. We still have the threat of the demon Faction looming. Don't forget that."

The demon Faction wasn't just a problem—it was a nightmare. Ever since the Dark Witch corrupted their dimension's ley lines, demonic activity had surged.

The Dark Witch, an alternate corrupted version of Wanda Maximoff, had torn through dimensional barriers to spread chaos. Her influence had twisted lower demons into stronger forms. Rumors spoke of her once being a Nexus Being before something—perhaps Mephisto—had corrupted her mind.

Even Mephisto himself had been spotted near the rift where the last Angel scouts disappeared. He was a constant threat across the multiverse—one of the few entities even the Celestials preferred to avoid direct conflict with.

"The demon threat hasn't passed," the patriarch reminded his sons. "They will return. And when they do, we must be prepared."

Finn remained silent, but his gaze was steady.

He understood. Demonic energy had a way of lingering. Even if a portal was closed, the corruption would seep into everything—the ground, the air, even people's minds.

What the Angel Faction needed wasn't hope. It was power. Real power.

But power came with sacrifice.

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