[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel":3,"chapter-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-235":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","My Life as a Mental Mentor in Marvel",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2322803,4544,"Chapter 235: Thor Odinson (Part 1)","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-235",235,"\u003Cp>“Damn it, what did you say?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I said you’re fired, you’re done here! Get it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The auto shop owner grabbed several dollar bills and threw them at Thor’s face. “Get out! You Texan bastard—this is enough for you to find a new trash heap to live in!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thor could no longer endure it. He took a step forward, but the shop owner snatched a gun from beside him and pointed its black muzzle at Thor. “Don’t make trouble for yourself! You damn stupid ox—don’t think swinging your fists means anything. Do you know what this is?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thor had seen human firearms before—he’d watched agents train at S.H.I.E.L.D. and knew how much damage such weapons could inflict on ordinary people. And now, he was no different from one. One shot, and he’d be in the hospital.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He locked eyes with the shop owner. Just as the man opened his mouth to sneer again, Thor kicked his wrist, then slammed another kick into his gut, followed by a hook punch that sent the boss sprawling. He pinned the man’s neck and pounded his face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Workers inside the shop heard the commotion and rushed out shouting: “Stop! Thor! Don’t—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Several employees grabbed the furious Thor. One, an old man with a hunched back, said: “Thor! For my sake, don’t do this!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This bastard killed Benjamin! He fired Lauren and John! And he didn’t even pay them their wages!” Thor roared.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man gripped Thor’s shoulder. “Listen, Thor—I know you mean well. I know you wanted to save Benjamin. But this world is like this. We’re like this…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned and pointed at the unconscious shop owner. “He has money—he can hire lawyers, even bribe cops. If he calls the police, you’re finished. Do you understand?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Old White!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Just leave, Thor,” Old White sighed. “We all know he’s a bastard—a complete vampire. He cuts our wages, forces night shifts on those he dislikes, even threatens us with guns…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thor looked at Old White—the veteran who had taken him under his wing when he first arrived at the shop, patiently explaining every technical problem he couldn’t grasp. Thor knew Old White was a good man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now, the old man’s face was carved with deep wrinkles like cracked earth, his skin rough with age. Beneath his bent brows, his eyes stared straight at Thor—and Thor saw pleading in them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you cause a scene here, the shop will shut down. Then where will we go? He pays us once a week—but if we don’t work three days, he gives us nothing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“My grandson’s still in school—he needs money for living expenses. My son and daughter-in-law can’t earn enough, Thor…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re young, strong, healthy—you’ll always find a job that needs muscle. But we can’t.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old White turned and looked around at the others. Thor followed his gaze. Most of the workers weren’t strong—some were thin, their bodies worn down by years of reversed sleep cycles and irregular meals, their complexions dull.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Siliuke\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Everyone who stays here has nowhere else to go, Thor.” The old man pulled several dollar bills from his faded work uniform. “I know he didn’t pay you enough. I only have this much. Take it—find a new job. Don’t cause trouble. Please.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thor stared at him. He stood silent for a long moment, then walked over to the boss he’d knocked down. The other workers watched him with fear in their eyes, as if afraid he’d strike again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They crouched beside the boss, shrinking away, avoiding Thor’s gaze. Thor knew—they understood they shouldn’t defend this man. But they had no choice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thor didn’t look at the fallen shop owner again. He stepped over him, walked back to where the fight had started, bent down, and picked up the dollar bills the boss had thrown. Then he returned and handed them to Old White. “You’re right. I’m young—I can find a new job. And I’ve got…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thor paused. “…my brother supporting me. I don’t even have to pay rent right now. Take this money. It’s my thanks for everything you’ve taught me lately.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man’s outstretched fingers were thin and rough, like bare tree branches stripped of leaves. They trembled—whether from emotion or age, Thor couldn’t tell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He took the money, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to do this… I wanted to tell the police—it was this bastard who killed Benjamin. He knew Benjamin had a bad heart. He knew Benjamin couldn’t even speak after back-to-back night shifts. Yet he still gave him the worst shifts, the heaviest work. We all know—he did it…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But we can’t say it. Or if we do, it does nothing—except cost us our jobs.” The old man’s voice sounded broken, almost hopeless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Benjamin had a three-year-old daughter. She’s sweet. I don’t know how to face them…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But this is what people are like here. We’re all bastards. All accomplices, Thor…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you don’t leave, you’ll become like this. Thank you. Go now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Thor stepped out of the shop, the midday sun struck his face so fiercely he could barely open his eyes. Every building shimmered under its glare. He raised a hand to shield his eyes and looked down the street.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This wasn’t a slum—it was even somewhat prosperous. Along this side of the road stood several auto shops; at the end was a warehouse. Opposite, several trucks were parked. At the far eastern end stood a fire station.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Having worked here long, Thor knew that once the sun weakened and dusk came, the street would come alive. Workers, drivers, firefighters—all would gather in groups at food stalls, laughing, eating, chatting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thor also knew this place was far better than Hell’s Kitchen. Old White’s son and daughter-in-law earned little, but they managed. His grandson still attended Midtown High—bright future ahead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The dead Benjamin had owned a house, a wife, a daughter. Most of the other workers had families too. Many carried heavy debts, but at least they had roofs over their heads.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thor walked as he thought, and soon found himself back at the edge of Hell’s Kitchen. The streets here paled in comparison to his workplace—crumbling, dilapidated. He thought: this isn’t even the worst. Go further in, and you reach true hell on earth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thor couldn’t describe his feelings. He’d always believed he’d stand firmly on the side of justice. But watching his coworkers, he couldn’t blame them for not confronting the shop owner. He couldn’t ask more of them. These were people struggling just to survive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thor suddenly began thinking about questions he’d never considered before. Some things stymied most people on Earth: eating enough, having a place to live, affording family expenses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How had he ever thought about such things? Brave warriors hunted for him. Roasting meat was placed before him. Fresh fruit filled baskets. Clear spring water was poured for him. He received all first—because he was the future ruler of Asgard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Servants dressed him. Stewards fastened his helmet. He’d walked the grand halls of Asgard countless times—grown bored even of them. Even the throne of the Allfather, he’d scorned the gems upon it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, under the blazing sun, Thor looked down at his body. His chest and back were soaked in sweat. His legs ached. A full night’s shift had drained him. Sweat dripped from his brow, clung to his lashes, stung his eyes when it fell in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had no money—not even enough for a pack of tissues. He glanced at the nearby supermarket. Inside, cool air flowed. But he looked down at his grease-stained pants, hesitated, and didn’t go in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew what would happen if he did. The clerk would stare at him with disdain, eager for him to leave. If he couldn’t pull out cash, the clerk would threaten to call the police.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thor had never imagined that being a man was harder than being a god.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d always believed that as Asgard’s future ruler, he bore great responsibility—to protect the Nine Realms, to face new enemies, to embark on grander quests.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All the hardships he imagined were built on that premise—not on standing on a hot street, unable to afford a pack of tissues to wipe his sweat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought the things that would make him anxious were concerns about Asgard’s future—not how to explain to Loki that he couldn’t pay next quarter’s rent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This made Thor wonder: were his achievements in Asgard truly his own, because he was strong and upright?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then why, now, could he not even defeat a cruel auto shop owner? True, he had no powers, no weapons—he was human. But the shop owner was weaker. Yet Thor still couldn’t touch him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What could he do? Call the police? They wouldn’t listen. Use his privilege? Call S.H.I.E.L.D. to arrest the man? But what about the other workers? If the shop closed, where would they earn their living?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sun’s heat made Thor’s head dizzy. He had to step into the nearest shadow and lean against the wall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His back and knees ached. He wondered: why didn’t charging forward work anymore? Why, when he tried to care for these weak ones as a god, could he do nothing but hand them a few dollars?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For the first time, Thor pondered this: without his powers and weapons, he was useless. Then who was Thor? Was he himself—or his powers and weapons?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Were his pride and achievements truly his own—or did they belong to his powers and weapons?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If they were his own, then why, after losing his powers and weapons, could he do nothing at all?\u003C\u002Fp>",1595,"2026-06-20T16:39:20.726Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","5631c026fff052a320dc57dc81e6536cbfaf691f4742837744183f5201107f62","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-236","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-234",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmy-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-cover.jpg"]