Happy Is Injured

Apocalypse had seen those pieces of protective gear in the files. Some were gauntlets capable of punching through thick reinforced concrete with a single blow.

Some were armor. Once worn, the whole body was protected by a divine-energy shield, immune to ordinary bullets until the divine energy ran out.

This gear was not particularly powerful to superheroes, but to ordinary people, it was already incredibly miraculous.

And these were merely crude, casually made rejects. One could imagine how astonishing properly forged armor and the like would be to Earthlings.

"Hmph. Then why did you stamp Asgard's mark onto every set of gear? Aren't you afraid of disgracing Asgard?"

House mumbled, "It was actually pretty lonely being here alone. The wife I found couldn't stay with me for long, and afterward, I never looked for another."

"I hoped an Asgardian might see the mark on the gear. That way, I wouldn't feel so alone on Earth."

In truth, there was far more than just House the blacksmith among the Asgardians on Earth. As for whether they had discovered him, that was hard to say.

Even if they had, they might not have wanted anything to do with him.

After all, he was merely a low-level blacksmith. The Asgardians who could freely travel to Earth might not think much of him.

If this case had not landed in Black Widow's hands, even if Apocalypse had learned of it himself, he probably would not have bothered coming to find House.

The blacksmith's crime did not warrant death, but leaving him out there to cause trouble was not an option either.

After a brief moment of thought, Apocalypse asked, "Natasha, does S.H.I.E.L.D. need someone like him?"

"If they do, send him to S.H.I.E.L.D. If not, lock him up for now. The next time I