The gentle sea breeze swept across the beach. Waves rustled against the shore, seabirds cried from time to time, and little white shapes darted between the swells.
Deathstroke reached down and lifted the big man to his feet. The Asgardian warrior, two and a half meters tall with an equally impressive waistline, was easily steadied. His red hair and beard had turned brown like a lion's mane, thanks to the sand and seawater.
"Long time no see, Volstagg. It's good to see you, but next time you enter Earth, you still need to notify Kamar-Taj in advance."
Deathstroke patted the big man's belly, then folded his arms and waited for him to explain his purpose.
Volstagg shook the sand from his hands, then wiped them on his stomach, leaving two huge handprints on his purple outer robe. Only then did he let out a thunderous laugh and extend his hand to Deathstroke.
"I heard from Fandral that shaking hands is popular in Midgard now. On behalf of my friends, greetings to you, Sorcerer Supreme."
The fat man was an honest sort, and Su Ming had no intention of taking advantage of honest people. He smiled and shook his hand. "Greetings to you too. But get to the point. We're both warriors, so there's no need to beat around the bush."
When facing warriors, he was a warrior himself; when facing mages, he was the Sorcerer Supreme; when facing merchants, he was likewise a merchant in the business of selling his services.
Volstagg did not hesitate either. He shook his beard and spoke.
"Yes, Asgard needs your help, and this God of Thunder must come as well."
"Hmm, is that so?" Su Ming muttered as if to himself, turning to look at the coconut trees nearby. Their broad green leaves swayed