Chapter 63: The Life of a Lazy Wizard in Asgard (6)
That evening, a bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the palace of Asgard. Sherlock, lying on his bed and reading a magic book, naturally heard this agonizing howl.
It must have been Thor, who hadn't listened carefully to Sherlock's words. After all, getting medicated oil in your eyes is not a pleasant feeling. Don't ask Sherlock how he knows.
If you ask, it's because Sherlock also experienced Thor's exact pain when he was being trained by his uncles. But Sherlock even felt like his own research was about to catch fire, and for a moment, he suspected he might have overused his Mangekyo Sharingan.
Of course, Mangekyo was just a chuunibyou fantasy of Sherlock's, but that taste was truly unpleasant.
After hearing Thor's agonizing howl, Sherlock closed his magic book with satisfaction and snuggled contentedly into his small quilt.
Hmm, the bed was exceptionally soft and warm tonight.
Early the next morning, Sherlock was dragged out of his warm and soft bed by Thor. Before Sherlock's morning grumpiness could even kick in, Thor's miserable appearance had already entered Sherlock's eyes.
By this time, Thor's black eye had mostly healed, but because medicated oil had accidentally gotten into his eye, one of Thor's eyes was swollen like a sad frog.
The moment Sherlock saw Thor's miserable state, all his morning grumpiness vanished, and he burst into laughter on the bed. Thor could only glare at Sherlock in annoyance, then shook his hand and put on the sunglasses Sherlock had given him, covering his sad-frog-like eye.
Seeing that his fun was over, Sherlock, urged by Thor, took a while to slowly get up, wash, and change. Then, led by Thor, he went to the dining hall for breakfast.
It wasn't until after they finished breakfast and arrived at the palace gate that Sherlock truly realized Thor was the Prince of Asgard. A luxurious carriage at the entrance displayed Thor's status.
In Sherlock's opinion, this carriage was even more luxurious than the one that had picked up Ancient One and himself to the palace earlier.
Thor flashed into the carriage, urging Sherlock to get in quickly. The commercial district was not close to the palace and would take a while to reach.
Sherlock naturally complied. The carriage traveled for a while on the roads of Asgard before arriving near a bustling street. Thor and Sherlock jumped out of the carriage, instructing the coachman to wait for them aside.
The entire street looked like a pedestrian street, with vendors hawking their wares on both sides. After instructing the coachman, Thor led Sherlock to charge into the street for a shopping spree.
After all, it was the place he had grown up in. Although Thor was the Prince of Asgard, he didn't have the feeling of being extravagant and dissolute like some princes. Instead, he was exceptionally down-to-Earth.
He constantly introduced Sherlock to the goods sold in the shops on both sides.
With a generous patron by his side to pay, Sherlock naturally didn't hold back and began a joyful shopping spree, buying many exquisite, unique Asgardian ornaments.
Then he bought his uncles a set of Asgardian soft armor. This stuff was incredibly magical; it looked no different from a vest, but according to Thor's introduction, it could actually defend against .22 caliber bullets fired from ten meters away.
Basically, every Asgardian warrior owned such a set of soft armor worn under their actual armor, which ensured both comfort and enhanced defense.
Sherlock thought, 'This stuff is good!' Two pieces for each of his uncles, plus Tony. Let's go!
The only thing that stumped the two of them was the Asgardian specialty skincare products Sherlock wanted to give to his future aunt, Pepper.
These two straight men really couldn't figure it out. Listening to the sales pitch, not to mention Sherlock, even Thor, a local, looked utterly confused with spiraling eyes.
Finally, Thor waved his hand and said, 'Just get one of each!' He then pretended to be knowledgeable, telling Sherlock to just mix them when he got back.
Sherlock rolled his eyes at Thor's remark. Mix them? Was he really not afraid of getting poisoned?
But Sherlock expressed his appreciation for Thor's actions; he just loved Thor's generous behavior.
And after the goods were packed, Sherlock also gave Thor the liquor he had prepared long ago. Thor's eyes lit up when he saw the liquor Sherlock handed him.
Especially when the two bottles of 75-proof and 90-proof alcohol were taken out, Thor's eyes could barely move away.
As a repayment for Thor's generosity just now, Sherlock repeatedly explained that this stuff was for disinfection, but it was clear that Thor didn't listen at all. He even complained a bit, asking why Sherlock hadn't brought out such strong liquor when he was on Earth.
Seeing that explanations were useless, Sherlock no longer bothered. Anyway, Sherlock had already confirmed that this was edible ethanol, so even if Thor was truly greedy and drank it, there wouldn't be too big of a problem.
Both of them could say they got what they wanted on this trip. With nothing else to do, Thor also took Sherlock to stroll around Asgard, wanting his good friend to experience the local customs and culture.
But as they walked, Sherlock and Thor sensed something was off. The cause of it was when Sherlock and Thor saw a mother disciplining her son on the street.
A young mother was seen pulling her son out of a bookstore on the side of the road. The little boy was holding a large stack of books that looked no different from 'Five Years of College Entrance Exams, Three Years of Mock Tests,' with a wronged expression. The young mother was walking ahead, educating her child as she went.
"You little brat, you must study hard! You need to know that Prince Thor's friend completed basic magic and some magic studies in just four or five days, and defeated Prince Thor in three days!
You must learn from Prince Thor's friend and study hard! Mom doesn't ask you to be as smart as Prince Thor's friend, but as long as you're like Prince Thor, Mom will be satisfied!"
Facing his mother's incessant lecturing, the little boy felt extremely wronged and mumbled softly.
"I heard that Prince Thor's friend has three heads and eight arms to learn those things in such a short time, and even defeating Prince Thor was done with a very strange weapon!"
Facing the little boy's rebuttal, the mother immediately gave him a rap on the head and pointed at the books in his arms, saying angrily,
"Who cares how many heads or arms he has, he learned it! You little brat, go home and do ten pages for me today! Otherwise, you definitely won't get dinner!"
As the mother and son walked away, Sherlock and Thor stood rooted to the spot, both feeling extremely awkward. Thor was embarrassed that his defeat seemed to have been known by all of Asgard.
As for Sherlock, he didn't care much, but he wondered if the guy who spread the rumor that he had three heads and eight arms dared to stand up and see if his Transfiguration could satisfy that strange XP?
Otherwise, it wouldn't be out of the question to let this rumor-monger experience Thor's version of the .22 caliber Gatling gun of great mercy.