Regardless of whether Qiong's actions were a test from Mai Shiranui, Su Ye had to remain calm and composed—this was the professional quality of a man who…ahem, a man with a heart for the world.
Moreover, opening a bar was indeed a good choice—not only did it match Qiong's expertise, but it also gave idlers like Dongzhang a place to have fun.
At night, Su Ye stayed at the dojo. Hanzo Shiranui didn't return, reportedly having a clash with Genjuro at the Bajiquan dojo.
Genjuro brought Thor's Hammer to New York merely to tease Tang Fulu. Both were grandmasters of their generation, and naturally, some comparisons were inevitable between them.
In literature, there's no first place; in martial arts, there's no second.
Unexpectedly, no matter how much Genjuro hinted, Tang Fulu simply wouldn't take the bait. From start to finish, he didn't even glance at the hammer.
According to Tang Fulu, he was just a practitioner of martial arts and had no interest in hammers.
Genjuro's fun was halved in an instant, but fortunately, Hanzo Shiranui was there.
Old Hanzo, noticing the hammer's craftsmanship and that Genjuro had brought it personally, couldn't resist trying to lift it—and ended up embarrassing himself.
In Genjuro's hands, the hammer seemed light as foam, but in Hanzo's hands, it weighed a thousand—no, a million tons. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't budge it an inch.
Covered in sweat, Hanzo looked up to see Genjuro's smug face and Tang Fulu's faint smirk, and he was instantly enraged.
These two old guys were outrageous—one brought the hammer specifically to humiliate him, and the other just watched him make a fool of himself. If he didn't teach them a lesson, they'd forget his name was Shiranui.
Enraged, Hanzo Shiranui recklessly challenged Genjuro to a drinking contest. Now, he was lying there unconscious.
Challenging Genjuro, a lifelong drunk who practically lives in a barrel of wine, to a drinking contest was clearly a death wish.
With Hanzo Shiranui absent from the dojo, Su Ye naturally decided to stay the night.
One day and one night—poor Qiong and Yuri Sakazaki had to endure it, as the dojo's soundproofing was truly subpar.
Late at night, a plane landed at New York International Airport. Phil Coulson, looking travel-worn, walked out of the terminal and met up with the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents there to receive him.
When Genjuro took the hammer, Phil Coulson was already on a plane. Upon landing in New Mexico, he hadn't even had a chance to use the restroom before receiving a call saying the hammer had been taken to New York.
Coulson nearly cursed out loud. "Why didn't they say so earlier? If I'd known, I wouldn't have come here. Now I have to fly back. What a waste of time!"
The main issue was that Coulson was on a domestic flight—a small plane, no fresh-faced flight attendants nearby, and tiny restrooms. Overall, a disappointing experience.
While Coulson only considered cursing, Thor outright shouted his frustration.
"F***! Where's my hammer?!"
With the help of curious and brawny-man-admiring scientist Jane Foster, Thor escaped the hospital and made his way to where the hammer had fallen.
He was confident that once he saw Mjolnir again and held it, he would reclaim his glory as the invincible God of Thunder. But reality slapped him hard. Forget the hammer—he didn't even see the handle.
Standing by the crater in the wilderness and staring at its empty bottom, Thor fully embraced his tragic fate, howling at the sky.
"Who could take my hammer? Besides me, who else could lift it?! Impossible! No!"
If Su Ye saw this, he would surely play "A Spray of Plum Blossoms" for him.
Jane Foster stood beside him, unsure of what expression to wear.
On their way there, Thor told her many stories—boasting about his godly status and lamenting his current mortal predicament.
His words were imbued with deep-seated pride, and Thor's actions were indeed far from those of an ordinary human.
Thor swore that the hammer, Mjolnir, could summon lightning and was unimaginably heavy—no one but him could lift it.
Jane, swayed by his handsome looks and great physique, said nothing but drove him to prove his claim.
But… the hammer had been taken.
The hammer's heavy? No one can lift it? You used to be a god?
All lies? This tall, handsome man—with his impressive physique, bulging chest, chiseled abs, and well-defined V-line who loves to wear his pants low—was he just another smooth-talking fraud?
Driving a hollow-eyed Thor back to Old Bridge Town, Jane Foster had initially planned for a quick fling before returning to her scientific experiments. However, during dinner, the table next to them started discussing the hammer.
Though the hammer hadn't been there long, the local idlers flocked to see it, making it a hot topic of discussion.
After hearing the chatter, Jane began to believe the hammer was real and not just a story Thor had made up to impress her.
But Thor caught an important detail: a staggering drunk had taken the hammer.
"Who is this person? Why could they lift the hammer? Where are they now?"
Seeing his arrogant demeanor, the idlers naturally wouldn't spill the truth easily. After getting beaten up, they finally revealed what they knew.
"I heard that drunk followed someone to Los Angeles..."
When Genjuro spoke with Su Ye, someone overheard part of their conversation. As a result, each person had their own version of where the hammer went.
The most outrageous version claimed the drunk flew to the moon with the hammer...
Leaving the fallen idlers behind, Thor grabbed Jane's hand and demanded, "Which way is Los Angeles?"
Soon, Jane and Thor boarded a flight to Los Angeles, heading to the West Coast, while on the East Coast in New York, Su Ye was busy scouting locations for the new bar.
As for Mjolnir, it was still sitting in the Bajiquan dojo, with Genjuro snoring loudly after taking the hammer.
Genjuro had brought the hammer to New York merely to tease an old friend. Now that he had his fun, he was satisfied.
Before sleeping, Genjuro thought it over and decided to discuss with Su Ye whether they should just return the hammer to avoid making its owner anxious.