Chapter Fifteen: Impossible to Guard Against!

“Yes, I know it,” Yang Xin replied calmly, glancing at Coulson.

“Then what’s this hammer?” Coulson leaned forward, eager as a schoolboy with a notebook in hand.

“Bring it here,” Yang Xin stretched out his hand.

“What?” Coulson was taken aback.

“Bring me supplies to exchange for the information. You can’t just expect to get such crucial intel for free, with nothing but a few words. This hammer is no ordinary object—it’s something from beyond this world.” Yang Xin widened his eyes for emphasis, then added, “If you want something, you must give something in return.”

Coulson completely agreed with Yang Xin’s reasoning, nodding repeatedly. He pulled Yang Xin to the window and pointed out at a massive helicopter outside, speaking with a knowing air, “That’s the director’s private aircraft. If you’re willing to visit New Mexico, the jet is yours. I know you’ve had your eye on that chopper for a while, so I applied to the director for it especially…”

“Well done. I imagine Nick Fury’s old face must have been a sight to behold,” Yang Xin laughed.

“In fact, the director’s expression didn’t change at all,” Coulson replied.

“Then you must not have been paying attention, or his face is just too dark to tell. Come on, let’s board the plane and talk on the way.” Yang Xin was in high spirits. He knew full well that Nick Fury must have tried everything to lift the hammer, and the more he failed, the more he wanted it.

In desperation, Nick Fury had thought of Yang Xin’s mysterious abilities, but he was barking up the wrong tree. Yang Xin knew his own limits—unless the Treasure System produced a hammer, there was no way he could hand it over to Nick Fury, no matter how miraculous his methods.

Coulson immediately led Yang Xin, Natasha, and Hill onto Nick Fury’s private jet. Yang Xin found the most comfortable spot and settled in. The real reason he wanted to go was to relax—after so much intensive training, he needed a break, a balance between work and rest.

As Yang Xin lounged in the most comfortable seat, Hill massaged his shoulders while Natasha kneaded his legs and feet.

“Ah, the troubles of youth,” Yang Xin sighed melodramatically, a glass of red wine in hand.

“Um, sir, shouldn’t we talk business? About that hammer…” Coulson hurried to refill Yang Xin’s wine.

“Forget about your SHIELD getting that hammer. Right now, there’s no one on Earth who can lift it,” Yang Xin said coolly.

“But you said ‘right now’—does that mean that one day someone on Earth could?” Coulson caught the nuance immediately.

“Yes, in the not-so-distant future, someone will lift that hammer.” Yang Xin sipped his wine, speaking with quiet certainty.

“Who?” Coulson pressed.

“Since you ask so sincerely, I’ll graciously tell you. For the sake of love and justice on Earth… Well, let’s start with someone you know: Steve Rogers, Captain America, for one. As for the other…” Yang Xin trailed off, turning his gaze to Natasha, who was still massaging his legs.

“Me? You think I could lift it? No, you’re mistaken. I actually tried last night in New Mexico, but I failed,” Natasha said.

“The time hasn’t come yet. You possess noble qualities worthy of respect—they simply haven’t shone through,” Yang Xin replied solemnly.

“Me? Are you sure?” Natasha smiled sweetly, her lithe form curling up beside him.

Yang Xin gently stroked her cheek, meeting her laughing eyes, and said with utmost seriousness, “I’m very sure. That’s why the Flower Key chose you. The Flower Key is a treasure meant to seek the seven-colored Flower of Love and Joy. When the noblest part of your soul blooms, so will the flower. At that moment, you’ll become a fairy—a Flower Fairy—spreading love and happiness across the world.”

“Then I’ll take your blessing,” Natasha replied, beaming like a blossom.

Yang Xin fell silent, hoping she’d never have to leap from a cliff for the Soul Stone. If it came to that, who knew if the Flower Key could save her life.

“So what exactly is this hammer?” Coulson asked, frowning.

“Is the pilot trustworthy?” Yang Xin asked suddenly.

“The pilot is May.”

“Oh, Melinda May. Then I’ll be brief. The hammer has a name: Mjolnir. It was forged from the heart of a dying star. Its master is the Norse god of thunder, Thor. Aside from Thor, only those worthy can lift it—and whoever does, gains the power of the thunder god,” Yang Xin explained calmly.

The others sat in stunned silence. After a long pause, Coulson forced a polite yet awkward smile, “Are you stating facts or telling us a myth, sir?”

“It’s fact.”

“But how could there be gods in this world? If there’s a Thor, does that mean the Norse All-Father Odin exists? And what about the legendary God?”

“As for the existence of the God, I can’t say for sure just yet. But the Norse Asgardians are real. The reason Earth has been able to develop peacefully is due to the protection of Odin, King of Asgard. By the way, ‘Earth’ is our own name for our world—Asgardians call it Midgard, or the Middle Realm.”

“Of course, Earth has other names in the universe. For example: Planet Tiran. And there’s another name I think you know, Coulson.”

“Planet C-53,” Coulson interjected, remembering his days with Captain Marvel.

“So, anything is possible. Let’s go meet this god of thunder.”

Melinda added more power, and the plane sped even faster toward the small New Mexico town where Thor’s hammer had fallen.

The town had become a military zone, with SHIELD having taken full control. When Yang Xin and his group disembarked, he saw their greeter was none other than Clint Barton, Hawkeye, and couldn’t help but sigh, “There’s no end to their precautions.”

At the same time, Yang Xin’s heart tightened. “So Nick Fury has figured out all my cards. As long as he surrounds me with superheroes, he’ll always get some unexpected reward.”

“What’s the meaning of this?” Yang Xin rolled his eyes, glancing sidelong at Coulson.

“There’s a modern mechanized infantry division’s worth of equipment here—not obsolete WWII gear, but current-issue weapons. Director Fury hopes that Mr. Miracle can present Agent Clint Barton with a great treasure in exchange,” Coulson explained with a smile.

Coulson’s words eased Yang Xin’s wariness. Fury was still maintaining their strategic partnership through trade.

With that, Yang Xin raised three fingers. “Three mechanized infantry divisions’ equipment, plus thirty units of ammunition, fuel, and logistics supplies.”

Coulson shook his head. “Current-issue equipment is different from WWII surplus, which we could sign off as losses. The director can only authorize a single division’s gear, plus fifty units of ammunition, fuel, and logistics.”

Yang Xin considered it. SHIELD was, after all, a global intelligence agency, not a military force. One division’s equipment was generous enough, but not one to leave anything on the table, he said, “And throw in a standard set of WWII weaponry.”

“Deal!” Coulson agreed immediately, then called to Hawkeye, “Agent Barton, come take a look at the Miracle Man’s treasure.”

Yang Xin shot a look at Coulson, then produced a treasure from his system: a sheriff’s badge with a distinct American western flair. In a deep, resonant voice, he began, “Long ago, on a planet called New Texas, there was a wise, courageous sheriff named Bravestar, who possessed…”