098. Have You Felt Happiness? (Third Update, Please Subscribe!)

In the courtyard, the four people surrounding Thor were naturally the warrior maiden Sif from Asgard and the Three Warriors of the realm: the axe-wielding giant Volstagg, the self-styled dashing swordsman Fandral, and Hogun, who fought with a mace.

Hogun had the unmistakable face of a Japanese man, yet somehow people called him Jackie Chan. That was surely a case of Westerners' blind, prejudiced inability to tell one Asian face from another, but in another sense it also proved just how famous Uncle Jackie truly was.

To be fair, Jackie Chan had his share of scandals, but the contributions he had made for Chinese people were just as undeniable.

These four, together with the scheming little fox Loki, had been the core of Thor's force for conquering the world.

Now the schemer had rebelled and wanted the throne for himself. The remaining loyal hounds naturally would not accept it. They did not think that Loki, with that pretty boy's face, could lead Asgard from one age of glory into another.

So even if it meant defying orders and being branded traitors, they had come to Midgard to find Thor. The journey had been winding and full of setbacks, but as long as they could find Thor, it would all be worth it.

Never had they imagined that when they finally met again, Thor would simply lie flat and refuse to stand. Not only did he not want the ancestral legacy he had inherited, he even wanted to drag the companions who had traveled all this way to find him down into the same slack-jawed slump.

Volstagg had wanted, right there and then, to crack Thor's skull open with his axe and see whether his brain had been flooded with water.

And just then, Suy arrived.

The instant the four from Asgard saw him, all of them glared at him with fierce hostility.

Clearly, their failed attempt to persuade Thor had filled them with a great deal of anger, and the man who had just walked through the door looked like a perfectly convenient punching bag.

"Meeting, are we?" Suy said with a smile.

The four of them tightened their grips on their weapons and turned toward him.

They did not know him. Not even Thor, who had been here for many days, had ever seen him.

The only person in Asgard who knew Suy was Loki, and that fellow would certainly not tell the other four anything about him.

So the quartet mistakenly assumed that Suy was just an ordinary Midgardian, no different from the dozens he had just battered senseless, a weakling with the strength of a paper doll.

The four exchanged a look, and in the end it was the hottest-tempered of them all, Volstagg, who stepped forward first. He was the biggest, and his temper was the fiercest.

"We said this place has been requisitioned by us. Do not interfere carelessly. And yet you still barged in. Was what I said not clear enough?"

As he spoke, Volstagg strode toward Suy, while the great double-bladed axe in his hands, nearly five feet long, slowly lifted.

"Now, leave here. Immediately. The farther, the better. Otherwise..."

Whoosh! The massive axe rose above his head, then came down with both hands in a single, decisive cleave.

Volstagg had used this kind of strike to split open countless enemy skulls, and any one of those skulls had been harder than a Midgardian's by far.

But he had no intention of killing. After all, they claimed to be the protectors of Midgard, so when they had dealt with the agents earlier, they had done their best not to kill unless necessary. The same went for Suy.

Not killing did not mean they could not frighten someone.

"Just give me a nice little wet-pants performance. I'm in a terrible mood, so come and cheer me up!"

The axe came crashing down, intending to stop just above Suy's head. Volstagg had even prepared the words he would spit at him afterward: worthless, trash, scum.

But just as his arm began to ease the force of the blow, he suddenly saw a blur before his eyes. A figure had somehow closed in on him. The next instant, a searing pain burst through his jaw.

Rising Dragon Smash!

Bang!

Volstagg was blasted clean off his feet.

Suy could not care less what was going through Volstagg's mind. If you dared bring an axe down toward his head, then you had better be prepared to be sent flying in return.

He had seen the moment Volstagg tried to pull back the force of the strike, but that did not stop him from throwing the punch. At worst, he would simply not kill him.

Rising Dragon Smash was a move from Andy, unlike the Rising Uppercut used by Ryu in Street Fighter. It was a full combination in itself.

One punch sent the enemy into the air. Then, turning midair, the attacker used the momentum of the spin to deliver another blow with each hand, driving the enemy higher and higher.

At the end, Suy drew on his powerful waist strength, arching his body in the air like a drawn bow, and gave Volstagg's head one more gift from above.

That final strike landed like an earth-smashing torrent of force, exploding against Volstagg's face.

Boom!

Volstagg's massive body was hurled down from midair and slammed onto the ground before the remaining three. Even the earth seemed to tremble.

Then, once he landed, Suy hooked the haft of the five-foot double-bladed axe with a flick of his foot.

The great axe was instantly kicked aside, spinning several times through the air before crashing down beside Volstagg with a bang, its blade buried in the ground and its haft trembling with a low hum.

The remaining three were stunned. Could Midgard really produce a human this powerful? Stronger even than the warriors of Asgard?

Volstagg was a strength specialist, and yet he had not even been able to withstand a single move?

At a distance, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who had been watching from afar lowered their voices and let out a delighted cheer. Whatever it was, whether it was S.H.I.E.L.D., the Red Shield, or Hydra, at this moment everyone was standing on the side of Earth.

Sharon Carter's eyes were practically glowing. When Suy had beaten the Abomination, she had been too far away to see clearly. Now, watching at close range, she finally realized that her boss was truly insanely cool.

Cooler than Director Fury, cooler than Agent Coulson, no, cooler than every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent combined.

Not far away, on the dark rooftop, Hawkeye Clint Barton and Black Widow Natasha Romanoff stood side by side, admiration and even a hint of envy shining in their eyes.

"That man is a martial artist?" the Widow asked suddenly.

Hawkeye nodded. "Yes. The owner of the Shiranui Dojo. A very powerful fighter. Earlier, he sensed my presence from several dozen meters away and sent me flying with chi from a distance."

At that, the Widow's expression turned serious. "So he's the one Director Fury mentioned, the fellow who wants to establish the Red Shield Bureau."

Hawkeye only nodded without speaking.

And the same thought rose in both their hearts at once: one wondered whether this Red Shield Bureau taught chi. If it did...

In the courtyard, Suy spread his hands. "Though I could stress that I was acting in self-defense just now, I doubt you'd listen. In that case, let's make this simple. Will you come at me one by one, or all at once?"

The three remaining Asgardians exchanged a glance. No one spoke, but with perfect understanding they formed a triangular formation. Sif took the front with sword in one hand and shield in the other, while the two men fell in behind her.

Volstagg may have been careless, but Suy's relaxed manner made it clear to the other three that this was no time for knightly duels. Winning was all that mattered, so they might as well all come at once.

Looking at Sif's face, Suy sighed. "To be honest, I don't like fighting women while fully dressed, and you don't really fit my aesthetic either. But if you insist on forcing me, I can't help it."

"Still, I should warn you in advance: I'm very fast. If in a moment you can't feel involved, if you can't experience any happiness from this, don't blame me for not trying hard enough!"

The three ignored the incomprehensible lines. Sif gave a shout and charged at the front, with Fandral and Hogun close behind.

To Earthlings, Asgardians were terrifyingly strong. Their bodies could shrug off pistol and rifle bullets, making firearms little more than decorations, and then they could use their abundant close-combat experience with cold weapons to crush Earth's agents between their fingers.

But in front of Suy, their physical advantages and their melee experience meant nothing, because his own bodily strength was greater still, and his close-range technique was even richer.

The three quickly realized this. Even with all three attacking together, Suy remained calm, with a faint smile on his face, and each time he could predict their attacks and counter or evade before they even landed.

Not even Thor could do that.

As the fight continued, they finally understood that even if Volstagg had not been careless, he still would not have found anything but misery here. At best, he would simply have taken a little longer to fall.

Their skills were, in truth, not far apart. Since Suy could handle the three of them effortlessly, defeating just one was of course no problem.

On the other side, Suy did not, as he had claimed, quickly drop the three. Not because he could not, but because he had suddenly changed his mind.

Up to now he had learned many abilities, but thinking it over carefully, he had never properly studied the techniques of fighting with bladed weapons in close combat.

He had originally intended to find somewhere to learn recently, then send out shadow clones to pose as some master swordsman or another. Now that the Asgardians had delivered themselves to his doorstep, he might as well learn from them.

Fandral and Sif both used swords. Their swordsmanship might not be especially flashy, but it had been honed through a thousand years of accumulated experience in battle, and there was much worthy of study.

And Suy possessed Spider-Man's superhuman eyesight, allowing him to observe every minute movement in exquisite detail. With a fighter's ability to draw analogies, he could then analyze the intent behind each motion.

In that case, it would not take him long to understand seventy or eighty percent of Fandral and Sif's swordplay.

Afterward, he would simply need to go back, organize what he had learned, grow familiar with it, and find a few people to spar with. In basic terms, it would be done.

Less than half a minute into the fight, Hogun, who did not know how to use a sword, took a kick to the face from Suy and flew backward on his back. From that moment on, no one would ever say he resembled Jackie Chan again.

As for the remaining two, Fandral and Sif, they suddenly discovered that without Hogun weighing them down, their own rhythm had actually become smoother. Both of them even came to the same thought at the same time.

I can turn this around.

As history has always proven, the thought that one can turn a battle around is nothing more than an illusion.

Less than two minutes after Hogun was sent flying, Fandral's sword was taken from him, and he too received a kick to the face and went flying.

Only Sif remained. After struggling with Suy for another minute, her sword and shield were knocked from her hands. Then, with the sharp tip of a blade pressed against her throat, she froze.

At the other end of the sword stood Suy, hand on the hilt, wearing a smile that was distinctly unsettling.

"So, my lady, did you feel any happiness?"