For S.H.I.E.L.D., which knew woefully little about the universe, Asgard's unexpected visit was absolutely no small matter.
Moreover, there were many things Nick Fury could not conveniently ask over the phone.
So at noon the next day, he sent his trusted subordinate Coulson to lead a professional team to the spot where Mjolnir had fallen. Without the slightest politeness, they drove away the local residents who had been holding a "hammer-lifting contest" and picnic there.
After sealing off the scene, the good-natured man whose receding hairline had become rather precarious finally approached Allen and greeted him with a smile. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Allen."
"You look pretty good. Want something to drink?"
Allen casually picked up a bottle of ice-cold beer from the gigantic block of ice beside him and handed it over.
Other than the ice itself, which Allen had created with magic, the drinks and beer piled on top had all been taken from the local residents' cars.
Because they had suddenly been chased away by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents earlier, they had not had time to take the beer and other beverages they had been chilling on the ice.
"Thanks. I was just getting thirsty." Coulson accepted it without ceremony, tipped his head back, and gulped down half the bottle.
You must know that New Mexico had a typical desert climate. Daytime temperatures often reached thirty to forty degrees Celsius or even higher, and the sunlight was brutally harsh.
After all the work he had done earlier while wearing a thick suit, the shirt beneath his jacket had long since been soaked through with sweat. He had been wanting something cold to cool himself down.
Once the chilled beer passed through his esophagus and into his stomach, Coulson immediately felt more than half the heat