Chapter 196

"Alright, listen up, big guy—you can't go smashing those honking cars. There's no rule in Hell's Kitchen banning daytime horn-blowing..."

Steve yanked Thor back before he could rush out, speaking sternly: "If you keep this up, you'll get arrested and shipped off to a psychiatric hospital. From what I know of psychiatrists, you'll be in deep trouble."

"Why do you Earthlings talk so strangely? I can't understand your accents at all. Why do you all speak with your voices pinched? Can't you be more manly?!" Thor shouted.

Steve took a deep breath—he was utterly done with Thor. He gripped Thor's arm with his right hand to keep him from wandering, then pulled out his phone and dialed Nick.

"Nick, if you're really going to make me babysit this guy, can you please get him a translator device? We can't communicate at all!"

Yes, the first problem Thor encountered after arriving on Earth was his bizarre accent. Thor, of course, spoke English—but the last time he'd visited, this place didn't even speak English.

"Point Guard Here"

More accurately, the last time he came to Earth, the English spoken in Britain wasn't the same as today's.

This meant his current speech structure consisted of Old English vocabulary and grammar, layered with a heavy Asgardian accent.

But the country he was in now was the United States—a nation that had long sought to expel British English from the English language.

This made communication extremely difficult. When Nick first assigned Steve to watch Thor, Steve hadn't realized how serious the problem was. He'd planned to take Thor on a morning jog around New York City, showing him where he'd be living.

But within just a few minutes, Thor acted like an over-energetic husky, charging at everything he saw, ready to bite. Steve seriously suspected this was Thor's revenge for that punch he'd given him.

Steve stood at the intersection, one hand on his hip, the other gripping Thor's arm, and said helplessly: "If you're doing this to get back at me for that punch, fine—I'll apologize. But that wasn't my intention. You need to find a physical therapist."

"And this isn't an excuse to smash car windows, move roadblocks at will, or kick over paint cans. If you keep this up, you won't just get my punch—you'll get beaten!"

Steve pleaded earnestly, but Thor barely understood him.

Steve realized he was talking to a wall. Just as he was about to continue, his phone rang. Shiler said: "Captain, could you come to Stark Tower? We might need you for a strength test."

After hanging up, Steve immediately redialed. "Hello? Is Peter there? Oh, this is Steve, his friend. Could you ask him to pick up?"

"Hey, Steve? What's up? I'm eating!" Peter answered, his voice muffled—he hadn't swallowed his food yet.

"Nick gave me a task: basically, I'm supposed to take an alien on a tour of New York. But something's come up—can you cover for me?"

"Taking an alien on a tour?... Really? Where's that?... That sounds amazing? Oh..." Peter lowered his voice—clearly someone family was nearby. He paused, swallowed, then said: "Wait, I'm on my way."

Shortly after, Peter sprinted over from the other end of the street, still wearing his Captain America commemorative T-shirt. As he drew near, he proudly pointed at the shield emblem on his chest. Steve smiled and patted his shoulder: "If you want one, I can get you a 1: replica printed on a shield."

"Really?" Peter asked, delighted, then hesitated: "But... isn't that disrespectful? That's the symbol of Captain America's honor."

"No problem. If you help me finish this mission, I'll give you one—and it comes with my autograph."

Peter nearly jumped out of his skin. He grabbed Thor's arm: "Don't worry—leave it to me!"

Steve gave him a thumbs-up, watching Peter lead Thor away. He sighed, feeling a pang of guilt—he felt like he was tricking a child.

Thor was even less pleased being led by Peter. Asgardians believed strength ruled all. Though he resented Steve for sneaking up and punching him, he admitted Steve was a strong warrior. But this kid? What was he? Looked like a bean sprout.

After walking a few steps, Peter suddenly stopped. Thor froze, staring him up and down: "Are you tired? Want me to carry you?"

Thor's worldview was simple: strength was the only law. He also believed in helping the weak, the elderly, the sick. To him, Peter was clearly a child—and among Earthlings, one of the weakest. He probably needed help.

"Tired? No, of course not. My house is a bit far, but it's not tiring."

"I just remembered where to take you. We..."

"Forget me! That annoying guy's gone—I'm going to explore on my own!" Before Peter could finish, Thor turned and walked off. He didn't need a child guiding him.

Thor started to leave. Peter chased after him: "Hey, wait! My signed T-shirt..."

"Don't do that! Don't jaywalk—that's against traffic rules! Wait... don't touch that car! No! Don't kick the door—people will think you're robbing them..."

Steve could physically drag Thor back. But Peter could only block his path, trying to redirect him.

"I didn't mean to! Hey, stop! Don't go that way! There's construction there! No... don't climb back over the barrier—there might be..."

"Why do you Earthlings treat me like an idiot? I'm the Prince of Asgard—I know exactly what I'm doing! I..."

"Thud!"

Two minutes later, Peter yanked Thor's foot out of the mud. He looked at his muddy T-shirt: "This is my brand-new official merch—it was expensive..."

Thor growled: "Why are your Earthly roadblocks so small? I thought it was just a low wall—like someone's backyard!"

"Alright, listen: Steve told me you're an alien, so I'll overlook your complete ignorance of basic rules. And you clearly don't speak Earth language well—so I get why you don't understand me. But at least you can read gestures, right?"

Peter made a cross shape across his chest: "This means 'don't go.' Places I point this at are dangerous. Lucky this time it was just a mud pit—if there'd been live wires underneath, you'd be dead. You really need to listen to me!"

Thor ignored Peter, arms crossed, striding forward. Peter jogged beside him. Thor turned: "You're just a kid. Where are your parents? Letting you wander the streets alone?"

"I finished all my summer homework, so I could go out. Oh, I haven't told you yet—I'll take you to my favorite arcade. You'll love it."

"What's that place?"

"Where you play games. Lots of machines. They just got a new one—I haven't tried it yet. Let's go!"

"Oh, wait—I need to call a friend."

Peter pulled out his phone: "Pikachu, what are you doing? Yeah, same place..."

Five minutes later, Peter dragged Thor to an arcade on the edge of Hell's Kitchen.

He stopped at the entrance, then turned down a side alley. Soon, a yellow figure leapt onto the wall and landed straight into Peter's arms. Peter high-fived Pikachu: "Long time no see, buddy!"

"Hah! Who got blinded by his little girlfriend and hasn't visited his best friend in ages?"

"Shiler the doctor went on a trip, and you were supposed to watch his shop—I thought you were busy. Well... well, sorry, don't shock me!"

Thor was fascinated by Pikachu: "Is this your pet? Why is he so yellow?"

He reached out to touch Pikachu. His hand barely reached the top of Pikachu's head when he got zapped—letting out a yelp. Peter grabbed Pikachu's tail: "Cut it out—you shocked someone! Oh, sorry—I forgot to introduce you. This is my best friend Pikachu. We're the ultimate team!"

"Did we ever have a team name?" Peter asked Pikachu. Pikachu, perched on Peter's shoulder with his tiny arms crossed, sneered: "Spider and Rat. Sewer Scourge. How's that?"

"Not great. Smells too bad."

Watching Peter and Pikachu playfully bicker, Thor fell silent. He even sounded nostalgic: "I once had a pet—a clever, agile hound. Too bad he died in battle."

"You kept a dog?" Peter asked Thor. "Do aliens keep dogs?"

"Of course. Asgard isn't far from Earth. Our lifestyles are very similar."

"Then why do you..."

"I just hate cars that honk randomly. In Asgard, if anyone let their war chariot make noise on the road, they'd get whipped."

"And those roadblocks—they don't even serve as warnings. Even a child can climb over them."

"And those people spraying weird paint on walls—in Asgard, defacing walls lands you in jail."

"Uh... actually, same here. It's just that the place is chaotic, and nobody bothers to enforce it."

"If you put it that way, maybe it makes sense. You said you were Asgard's prince—so policing these things makes sense. But this is Earth. You're not a prince here. Walk up and you'll get punched."

"My father rules the Nine Realms—including Midgard. And I am the future ruler of the Nine Realms. When I see this, I must act."

Peter opened his mouth to reply, but Thor cut him off: "Where's this fun place you mentioned? I doubt it's more interesting than hunting."

"Hunting? That's medieval stuff. Come on—I'll show you modern amusement. You'll love it!"

————Extra Notes————

Sorry, I wasn't feeling well today—ran late.