Lock had seen those protective gears in the intel reports — some were gloves capable of punching through thick reinforced concrete with a single blow.
Some were full suits of armor. After wearing them, the entire body would be protected by a divine shield. Until the divine energy was exhausted, ordinary bullets were useless against them.
For superheroes, this kind of equipment was nothing special, but for ordinary people, it was already extraordinary.
And this was still just da effective gear, casually made. One could imagine how terrifyingly powerful a properly crafted set of armor from Asgard would be to Earth's people.
"Hmph," Lock snorted. "And you even dared to stamp each set of gear with Asgard's crest? Aren't you afraid of disgracing the Realm Eternal?"
House muttered softly: "It's just… a person gets lonely here. The wife I found didn't stay long, and I never saw her again."
"I hoped that if some Asgardian saw the crest, they'd recognize it and I wouldn't feel so alone on Midgard."
In truth, there were far more Asgardians scattered across Earth than House imagined. Whether they'd ever noticed him was another matter.
And even if they had, they might not have cared.
He was just a lowly blacksmith. Any Asgardian with the ability to freely come and go between realms probably wouldn't have thought twice about him.
If this case hadn't landed in Natasha's hands, even Lock himself might not have bothered to come find him.
The blacksmith's actions weren't worthy of execution — but leaving him free to keep selling divine gear unchecked was unacceptable.
Lock thought for a moment and then asked, "Natasha, would S.H.I.E.L.D. have any use for someone like him?"
"If yes, have him work for you. If not, have him locked up. When I next return to Asgard, I'll take him back myself."
"I'll ask Fury," Natasha replied.
She reported everything directly to Nick Fury. The moment Fury heard there was someone who could produce Asgardian-level protective gear, he was interested. The more, the better.
And with Lock personally standing over him, House wouldn't dare cause trouble.
House asked carefully: "So, Prince… from now on, Black Widow and I will be colleagues? Can I drop her name when I'm dealing with my contacts on the streets?"
Natasha's eyes narrowed. "What? Planning to spread rumors about me again?"
House quickly waved his hands. "I don't dare! It's just… if I use Black Widow's name, people will treat me more seriously. They won't dare short me on payment."
Natasha smirked. "You really don't know who you're talking to, do you? Do you know who he is?"
House blinked. "He's the Prince of Asgard, sure… but apart from Odin and Thor, he's not really famous on Earth. And if I tell anyone he's related to the gods, they won't believe me."
Natasha chuckled darkly. "Not famous? Where do you think all your underground intel comes from?"
"What reputation does the prince even have on Earth? How would I—"
Then the house froze.
The leaked reports from before… the godlike man under the beam of light, the one who crushed the enemies like insects…
"Prince Lock… you're that King Lock?!"
House's eyes went wide with fear. He had actually dared to swing a hammer at him earlier. If not for being an Asgardian, he would have been smashed into paste.
Once everything was settled, it was still early. Lock and Natasha decided to relax a little and go shopping.
House, of course, was dragged along as a pack mule for Natasha's bags.
But the blacksmith didn't complain — far from it. To him, carrying things for the Asgardian prince was like receiving a promotion.
Lock and Natasha hadn't been strolling for long before bad news reached them.
Happy Hogan was injured — and hospitalized!
Lock raised an eyebrow at the news. He hadn't personally given Happy any recovery potion, but Tony Stark had.
After all, Happy was Stark's head of security. It was better for that favor to come from Stark's hand than Lock's — even if Lock had no shortage of potions, he preferred that his rare gifts carried weight.
So, Lock and Natasha split up. Natasha took House back to S.H.I.E.L.D., while Lock went straight to the hospital to visit Happy.
Lock entered the hospital room to see Tony and Pepper already at his bedside.
Happy was so startled by the prince's arrival that he almost sat up — despite his bandaged chest.
Lock quickly pressed him down with a gentle hand. "Stay still. Why didn't you use the recovery potion?"
Happy smiled sheepishly. "It's nothing serious. I'll just lie here for a month and be fine. We can't waste something so precious."
To Lock, recovery potions were hardly rare, but Happy was just a step removed from his inner circle — not like Natasha or Stark, who could ask him for anything.
"How did this happen?" Lock asked.
"I saw two suspicious guys outside the mall," Happy said slowly. "I tried to follow them… but they spotted me."
He frowned, confused. "I think there was an explosion. In my memory, one guy literally blew himself up, and the other — his leg got blown off, but… it grew back. Then he ran."
"Human bomb?"
Lock's eyes narrowed.
Yes — this was the Extremis plotline.
The human enhancement formula was created by Aldrich Killian.
It could repair human defects, regenerate limbs, and turn the body into a walking furnace — thousands of degrees of heat, enough to melt steel.
Even Stark's suits had trouble withstanding it.
The downside? Unstable. Anyone injected with Extremis could randomly overheat and detonate like a living bomb.
Killian, ever the opportunist, had recruited war veterans discarded by the government — broken, angry men who had nothing left to lose.
When he gave them their limbs back, they became loyal, and no extra brainwashing was needed.
Tony spoke up grimly: "S.H.I.E.L.D. has been asking for my help. TA terrorist is calling himself 'The Mandarin.' Claims he's behind all these bombings."
"Their attacks are devastating — but there's never any trace of explosives. They want me to analyze the chemical residue."
"If it were a normal bomb, there'd be pieces of the bomber left."
Lock shook his head. "Tony, you don't understand. The bomber was the bomb."
Stark froze. "What—? You mean… their bodies exploded?!"
Lock nodded.
Tony stood, stunned. "If that's true… then it explains everything. No bomb fragments… just vaporized bodies."
Pepper's face went pale.
And somewhere out there, the false Mandarin kept making his threats.
---
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