Next Goal= 200 Powerstones!
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As Castro and Che Guevara's convoy passed through the village, they noticed Thor hanging there.
Castro showed little reaction. He actually wanted Thor shot on the spot, but Che Guevara was clearly intrigued.
He stayed behind with a small team to "question" Thor, while Castro took the main force toward the bay where the submarine waited.
Soon, Castro met up with the vessel.
A number of officers and some military supplies came off the submarine. The supplies weren't much—after all, this was a strategic nuclear submarine, not a cargo ship, so it couldn't carry large amounts so far from home.
What stood out was the number of Soviet officers—it was far more than a single submarine would normally carry.
And they weren't wearing navy uniforms, but army ones.
It was obvious they were military observers or specialists sent by the Soviets.
Still, this had little to do with Josh. The Soviets were here purely to provoke the Americans, nothing to do with Austria.
Josh only watched for a short while before deciding to head home.
But before leaving, he glanced back to check on Thor.
The sight stunned him.
Thor was no longer tied up—he was drinking rum and smoking cigars with Che Guevara.
"This rum is excellent! Pour me another!" Thor shouted after downing a large glass and slamming it on the table. He didn't smash it this time—Che had told him that breaking glasses after drinking wasn't considered polite on modern Earth.
The girl who poured his drink was the same one who had given him water earlier—the daughter of the tavern owner, a Latina.
"Hahaha, of course! Our Cuban rum is the best in the world!" Che Guevara said proudly, despite not actually being Cuban.
Although he was second only to Castro in the Cuban revolution, Che was in fact Argentine. Like Castro, he was from a wealthy family—and not just wealthy, but noble. His grandparents on both sides had been Spanish governors in South America with high titles.
It was precisely because of this background that, when he had questioned Thor earlier, Che had quickly realized the man was no ordinary prisoner.
Even though Thor had kept rambling about being the son of Odin, the God of Thunder—sounding half-crazy—Che decided he wasn't a spy and struck up a friendship with him.
He had found that as long as Thor's lineage wasn't brought up, the man actually spoke and behaved fairly normally.
"Is that so? Well, if it were a bit stronger, it would be perfect! One day, I'll let you try my private stock—it's been aged in barrels made from the wreckage of the Brunnhilde's fleet, over a thousand years old. Now that's strong!" Thor laughed heartily.
"I'll be looking forward to it. But Thor, have you really decided not to join us? I'm sure we could be the best of comrades," Che Guevara said, clinking glasses with him once more and extending the invitation again.
"Oh, brother, I'd love to fight alongside you, but I have to find my hammer first," Thor said, looking troubled.
"Then that's all the more reason to join us. We've just completed our revolution—you can help us while you search. Cuba is an island. If you're here, your hammer can't be far, and we can help you look for it. Many hands make light work, right?" Che said persuasively.
Thor was clearly tempted by the idea. But just as he was about to agree, he noticed the hesitant expression of the young woman beside them.
"Anna, is something wrong?" he asked.
Anna glanced at Che, still hesitant.
"Go on, girl, I'm not going to bite," Che said with a smile.
"A few days ago, at the docks, I heard some fishermen talking. They said that near Jean-Rabel in Haiti, something like a meteor fell from the sky recently. It looked like a small hammer. The government troops have already sealed off the area, and American experts have gone there to study it," Anna finally said.
"Really? Yes, that must be my hammer! Brother, can you lend me a horse?" Thor leapt up in excitement, turning to Che.
"…Thor, I'm starting to believe you really are from Asgard. But from here to Haiti, a horse won't do…" Che tried to calm him. "And Haiti isn't the same as Cuba."
"What's the difference? And how do I get there?" Thor asked.
"Haiti is across a strait from Cuba. You'll need a boat, not a horse. And as for the difference—it's because we are free, and Haiti is a dictatorship," Che explained.
"A dictatorship? That's nothing. Asgard is a dictatorship too. I'll have a talk with their king," Thor said dismissively.
"Thor, trust me, going to Haiti isn't that simple," Che said, rubbing his forehead, unsure how to explain it to his new, eccentric friend.
"Going to Haiti? For what? Brother, come meet the comrades the Soviets sent!"
The tavern door swung open as Castro entered with a group of Soviet officers, calling to Che.
In the corner, hidden in a mirror dimension, Josh watched Thor drinking and laughing with two revolutionary leaders and a pack of Soviet officers. His expression was… complicated.
If this kept up, would Thor turn red and become the Red Thunder God?
And then what—would the mighty Prince of Asgard try to start a revolution in Asgard itself? Odin would go mad.
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