Superhero Nutrition の小説・ストーリー

~Punch’s Point of View~ “That’s what you’re eating? Where’s the fun,” Hazel asks, as she falls next to me at the table. She’s got a cookie in her hand. I look down at my salmon, chicken and veggies. Mags knows what I need in the days before a fight. I eat like six meals a day, all high protein. I don’t get nervous so I don’t need my gut fucked up by some bad or greasy food. The fight is tomorrow and I’m not risking getting the shits just to enjoy a cheeseburger and fries. Rookies do that shit and I’ve been fighting for years now.

"A thousand per meal? What are they feeding him-gold?" "Nothing unusual," Scarlett replied casually. "Just high-protein, nutrient-dense food. Grass-fed steak, wild salmon, organic bone broth, imported caviar... His condition is weak. He needs proper nutrition." Mossa nearly fainted on the spot. Steak. Salmon. Bone broth. Caviar? "And you actually ordered that for him?! You-you've completely lost your mind!"

"You and your trashy Indomie… you ruined me…" "It wasn't me, Kevin," Bima replied, "You destroyed yourself." "You thought strength was all about muscles and protein. You forgot that humans need balance." Bima held up his Indomie Super Nutripower. "Balanced nutrition. That’s what helps people survive. That’s what keeps people happy." Kevin stared at Bima’s Indomie, then toward the Indomie Lia and Riska were holding. Kevin’s eyes widened. "Indomie… that’s… a buff?" Kevin said, a faint note of regret in his voice.

I placed the plate on the table and then returned to the kitchen to heat Max's milk. "I want to eat while being a superhero!" Max exclaimed again, this time trying to raise his arms like he was going to fly. "Superheroes don't go to school on an empty stomach," I replied. "If you don't eat well, you won't have the energy to save the world." Max seemed to think momentarily, then finally sat on the dining chair with a half-surrendered expression. "Okay. But I can be a superhero later, right?" "Of course," Clara replied as she stroked his well-groomed hair. "But you have to complete your mission at school first."

Aurora admonished. “Are you not fully recovered?” I faked a frown and raised a brow. “I am fine. I am a strong boy, and strong boys don't fall sick.” “Hmm? But you did fall sick, and you are not fully recovered now, are you? You know what strong boys do?” He shook his head, “strong boys have their meals, their fruits, and veggies and take their medications, so they can be stronger. You get that?” “Uh-huh,” he nodded again.

He'd peeled back the top of the omelet and stared at the insides in horror. Truthfully, I'd never cooked for a man before and I was nervous. There was no way he would get away with not eating this meal. "It's good for you. How the hell do you keep your body in such great shape if you don't eat vegetables?" "This shit does not a body make." He gave me puppy dog eyes. "I supplement my diet with protein powder when needed. I'm allergic to green," he continued with his pouty face. I fought a smile. "Too bad, I made it and you're eating it. It's a good start for a day of training." I put both hands on my hips for emphasis. "Don't make me come over there and force feed you."

Despite the dimness around us, I can see the worry and disturbance swirling in his eyes. I place my other hand on his hand wrapped around mine. "Hey, Jason can't do anything. You keep going for your trainings. You do not quit, and you better not be carb-loading and juicing." A faint chuckle leaves his lips. "How did you know that?" I shrug. "I kinda stumbled on it in the internet. I also found out that proteins are really good for those muscles." I poke his arm. "Something about ac. . . .actin and—"

"It wasn't just strength, Damon. It was like you were enhanced somehow, like you were on steroids or something superhuman. I've seen what real strength can do to someone who can't fight back." The reference to my marriage with Max made Damon's jaw tighten with anger, but I pressed on. "When Max and his friends hurt me, I always assumed it was because I was smaller, weaker, because I was a woman trying to fight off men who were bigger than me. But Morrison was larger than you, heavier, and you handled him like he was a child having a tantrum." "I drink a special protein shake," Damon said, his lips quirking up in what looked suspiciously like suppressed laughter. "It gives me superpowers."

"From now on, you will have five high-protein meals a day. No exceptions. I don't care if you aren't hungry. You will eat because your body is a battlefield, and a soldier needs fuel." "Endall, I don't think I can —" "You will," he snapped, though there was no heat in it, only a desperate kind of care. "I’m not losing you to malnutrition while we’re fighting for a miracle." He called for the head housekeeper, a stern but kind Swiss woman named Greta. "Bring the first tray. High-density protein, complex carbs. And make sure she finishes every bite." As Endall moved around the room, adjusting the monitors and charting the incredible data from the scan, I lay on the table and looked at the ceil

"There’s a lot to improve here. The deficiencies are significant, and his body is struggling to catch up after so much neglect." He looked at the pancake and then back at me. "Proper nutrition is non-negotiable now. He needs high-protein, nutrient-dense meals, mostly fish and eggs. Chicken as well. If we don't fuel his recovery, the medicine can only do so much." "I understand, Doctor," I murmured, my mind already racing through the prices at the local market. I’d have to pick up extra shifts, maybe find a second cleaning job in the evenings. "I'm doing my best to provide those meals, but I know it will take time for him to truly regain his strength."