In the alley.
Thor looked down at the switchblade beside his neck, and a glint gradually appeared in his eyes.
I can't understand the traffic rules.
The currency rules are also complicated.
But these three people in front of him were clearly going to tell him the principles that Asgard knew best.
fist.
"Hey big guy, what are you laughing at?"
The burly man with tattooed arms gripped his switchblade tightly and said menacingly, "Hand over all your valuables, or I'll bleed you dry."
The other two blocked the alley entrance, their faces full of mockery.
Thor looked up and carefully examined the three of them.
There were no armored vehicles, no terrifying, star-like pressure, and no screens playing preschool lessons.
They were just three ordinary mortals wielding small weapons.
The world is finally back to normal.
"I, Thor, accept your challenge."
Thor straightened his back, his loud voice echoing through the alley.
"Come, warriors of Midgard, show the Son of Odin your courage!"
The muscular man with tattooed arms paused for two seconds.
"This guy's insane, attack him!"
With a flick of his wrist, he slashed the switchblade directly at Thor's neck.
Thor suddenly raised his hand, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it forcefully to the side.
Click.
The switchblade fell to the ground, and the tattooed, muscular man immediately knelt down.
"Ah! My hand!"
Thor didn't let go, and instead kicked him in the chest.
The burly man with tattooed arms was sent flying backward, his back slamming heavily into a trash can, his head lolling to the side as he sat down in the pile of garbage.
The remaining two men's expressions changed, and they pounced on him simultaneously.
The man on the left swung his fist, aiming straight for Thor's face.
Thor neither dodged nor evaded, taking the punch head-on.
Bang.
The man clutched his wrist and staggered back several steps, his expression gradually contorting.
He felt as if he had hit a piece of iron with hair growing out of it, not his head.
"A weak and ineffective attack."
Thor shook his head and punched the man in the nose.
Fresh blood spurted out on the spot.
The last person grabbed Thor from behind around the waist, trying to throw him to the ground.
Thor remained completely still.
He turned around, grabbed the other person by the collar, lifted him up with one hand, and slammed him against the wall.
Bang!
The man crashed into the wall and slid to the ground.
In less than half a minute, the three of them were lying in a row.
Thor stretched his shoulders, and the gloom on his face vanished.
Although he lost his divine powers, his physical abilities were still unmatched by ordinary Earthlings.
Finally, he returned to his familiar way of communicating.
Simple, direct, and most importantly, no interest needs to be calculated.
Thor was about to leave when he suddenly stopped.
He remembered the lesson Tony had just played.
Payment is required to purchase goods.
You can't take the food if you don't have money.
As for how to get the money...
Thor looked down at the three thugs.
These people challenged him, and now they have been defeated by him. According to Asgard tradition, the spoils naturally belong to the victor.
That makes perfect sense.
Thor crouched down and emptied all three men's pockets.
A wallet, change, a watch, and a membership card with a picture of a half-naked woman on it.
He threw away the membership card with disdain, then took out all the banknotes from his wallet and counted them carefully.
I didn't understand the numbers.
Midgard's banknotes look so similar.
Thor simply stuffed them all into his pockets, stood up, and said, "Thank you for the spoils. You may be weak, but you are brave."
The burly man with tattooed arms leaned against the trash can, looking at him with a bruised and swollen face.
"This is robbery..."
"Nonsense!"
Thor's face darkened. "This is the glory that the victor deserves."
"..."
The three of them dared not speak again.
Thor nodded in satisfaction and strode out of the alley.
At the hot dog stand.
The boss has already watched the whole process.
Holding the tongs in his hand, his legs trembling slightly, he saw Thor return and immediately put ten hot dogs into a paper bag.
"It's all yours, no money required."
Thor's smile vanished instantly.
"What did you say?"
"Free, completely free."
The boss waved his hand repeatedly, "It's on me."
Thor's eyes widened.
What does "mortal" mean?
Do they think the esteemed Crown Prince of Asgard can't afford it?
More importantly, those sinister mechanical arms inside Stark Tower are likely still monitoring him.
If Tony thinks he's done something wrong, he'll definitely drag him back and continue playing the anti-theft animation.
Thor felt a chill run down his spine at the thought of the singing bear.
No, you have to take the money.
He grabbed a handful of banknotes and coins and slapped them all down next to the metal plate.
The boss was so startled that he took a step back.
"Really, you don't need to."
"Take it!"
Thor glared at him. " The Son of Odin owes no debt to any mortal, and will not endure a damned basic education for a few meals!"
The shop owner didn't understand, but still quickly put the money away.
"Okay, I'll take it all."
Thor then picked up a hot dog and took a big bite.
The bread, sausage, and sauce mixed together made his eyes light up slightly.
The taste was pretty good.
While it's nowhere near as grand as Asgard feast, it's certainly easier to swallow than a preschool finance course.
He ate three servings in a row, then pointed to the banknotes in the owner's hand.
"Mortal, that is a gift from the gods for offering you food."
The shopkeeper glanced at the nearly two hundred dollars in his hand, then at the ten hot dogs that were only worth fifty dollars each.
You gave too much.
Thor paused.
"The blessings of the gods are never plentiful."
"Clear."
The boss promptly shut up.
The underground laboratory of Stark Tower.
Tony looked at the restored surveillance footage and nodded in satisfaction.
"Knowing that you have to pay for meals, your progress is faster than I expected."
Chen Mo leaned back on the sofa, chewing on grapes.
"He robbed the person and then used the stolen money to pay the bill."
"The source of the money is not important."
Tony swiped the holographic screen and ticked off Thor's education plan.
"At least he developed the right consumer awareness."
Your educational standards are quite flexible.
"When dealing with a 1,500-year-old child who doesn't understand currency, we must proceed step by step."
Tony pulls up a map of the Brooklyn neighborhood and begins to plan Thor's future life.
Finding a job, renting an apartment, using public transportation, and even learning how to open a bank account.
As for the three thugs, JARVIS has already notified the nearby police station and sent them the surveillance footage from the alley.
Thor doesn't need to worry for now.
Ordinary people can't beat him, but if they really encounter danger, Tony can send out his armor at any time.
Chen Mo watched for a while, then gradually lost interest.
A down-on-his-luck prince working on the streets of New York might seem novel at first, but after a while, it just becomes a large-scale reality observation program.
If Thor wants to pick up the hammer again, he needs to make the transformation himself.
Chen Mo has no interest in being a life mentor.
He leaned back on the sofa and began to ponder what other interesting things might be on Earth.
The time for Mutants is still far off.
Thanos hasn't arrived yet.
Hydra has been mostly eliminated.
Thinking of Hydra, Chen Mo suddenly remembered an old guy who had been frozen for decades.
Captain America.
Steve Rogers should still be lying under the Arctic ice, cryopreserved along with the crashed bomber.
S.H.I.E.L.D.. will dig him out in the future.
However, there shouldn't be much difference between a few years earlier or later.
Anyway, Old Popsicle don't expire.
Chen Mo spat out the grape skins, clapped his hands, and stood up from the sofa.
" JARVIS, retrieve the coordinates of the deep glaciers in the Arctic Ocean."
Tony's fingers, which were typing on the keyboard, suddenly stopped.
He turned his head, frowning as he stared at Chen Mo.
Who was that Old Popsicle you were just talking about?
Chen Mo did not answer.
Tony's expression grew even more wary.
What trouble are you up to now?
"Nothing."
Chen Mo raised his hand, and the space in front of him rapidly distorted.
A crack was ripped open, and a biting wind carrying snowflakes rushed into the laboratory, instantly frosting over several nearby screens.
On the other side of the crevice, there was only a vast ice field and howling blizzards.
Chen Mo strode over.
"Go loosen up some soil for S.H.I.E.L.D..'s ancestors."