At that moment—
The four warriors of Asgard and Thor also arrived at Manhattan's East Pier.
"There are a lot of people inside."
Volstagg jumped down from the top of a tall container and swung his axe. "The entire pier is under heavy protection. Armed guards are everywhere."
He didn't seem particularly concerned.
After all, even if they couldn't beat Blaine or Gali, what chance did these ordinary men stand? Even the S.H.I.E.L.D. base had been forcibly broken into. What's there to fear from a few rifles?
"I can feel the power of Mjolnir," Thor said excitedly, clenching his fists. "It's inside! Warehouse No. 3! That person was right!"
"Charge in directly?" Sif asked, drawing her sword.
"Just charge in," Hogan nodded. He exchanged glances with Fandral, and both said together, "Besides, Volstagg's figure isn't exactly subtle."
"Get lost! I'm strong, okay? Do you understand?" Volstagg rolled his eyes, raising his axe and shaking it a few times.
"Ha ha ha ha!"
Everyone burst out laughing.
They made no effort to hide their presence, their voices loud and obvious in the otherwise silent night.
"Who's there?!"
The vigilant Hand guards quickly raised their guns, switched off the safeties, and began moving cautiously toward the noise.
"But you're right," Volstagg said, resting his axe on his shoulder as he stepped out from the group of containers. "If we're going into Warehouse No. 3, there's going to be a fight anyway. Might as well clean them up now!"
Da-da-da! Da-da-da! Da-da-da!
It had to be said—Hogan and Fandral were right.
Volstagg's large frame was immediately spotted by the guards in black clothing and masks as soon as he stepped into the open.
Trained for combat, the guards didn't hesitate. They exchanged glances, drew their submachine guns and AKs, and opened fire on Volstagg.
"Arrgh!" Volstagg roared, raising his axe to shield himself as he charged toward them.
His speed may have declined compared to some Asgardians, but compared to regular humans, he was still incredibly fast.
Reaching them in moments, Volstagg showed no mercy this time—unlike when he had faced S.H.I.E.L.D. He fought with sheer brute force, swinging his axe with no finesse, only power.
His axe was both razor-sharp and brutally heavy. Whether chopping or smashing, it was devastating.
With each swing, bodies were either cleaved apart or crushed, their organs destroyed on impact.
"Come on!" Volstagg shouted.
Hogan, Fandral, and Sif immediately joined the fray.
As for Thor—
He was no longer like them. Now just a mortal, it was clearly impossible for him to fight alongside them, so he stayed hidden within the container.
Watching the battle unfold, his desire to reclaim Mjolnir only grew stronger.
"Enemy attack!"
"Enemy attack!"
"Enemy attack!"
Meanwhile—
The entire pier erupted into chaos, like a mobilized army.
Each squad had a leader wielding a katana, with an Asian face, clearly of higher status than the average guard—likely squad commanders.
"Oh-hooo ~~~!!!" Fandral let out a wild cry, stepped on Volstagg's shoulder, and leapt several meters high, sword in hand. He landed in the middle of the enemy ranks like a tiger in a flock of sheep. No one could touch him.
The rest of the Asgardians also clashed with waves of guards.
Thus, the battle at Manhattan's East Pier began in earnest.
---
Inside Warehouse No. 3—
In the lounge, Madam Gao slowly opened her cloudy eyes.
"Someone has invaded," she said calmly.
Beside her, a tall, strong white man replied respectfully, "Yes, Madam."
"What's the situation?" she asked without concern, as if everything was under control.
The man's expression darkened. He lowered his head and muttered, "Not good. Nearly everyone's gone to stop them, but they can't slow them down. It looks like they're coming this way."
"How many are there?"
Madam Gao leaned gently on her cane.
"Four... just four," he answered, face flushed with shame.
A whole team of armed fighters unable to stop just four people—it was almost laughable.
Was this the strength of the Hand?
A flicker of surprise passed through Madam Gao's eyes, though it was quickly masked.
Having lived for over four centuries, she had seen many strange things. She had long since mastered the art of concealing her emotions.
"If they're coming here, then I suppose I should go greet them personally," she said.
Rising to her feet, she appeared to be just an elderly woman in her twilight years, leaning on her cane as she slowly walked toward the door.
The white man followed closely behind.
---
Back outside—
The ordinary Hand operatives had been completely wiped out. The area was littered with bodies.
Of course, a few still remained standing—five warriors with Asian features and sharp katanas.
These weren't ordinary fighters. These were true Hand ninjas.
Yet even they were reaching their limits.
Their once razor-sharp katanas were now chipped and broken. Blood covered their clothes, and only their unwavering loyalty to the Hand kept them standing.
In contrast, Volstagg, Hogan, Fandral, and Sif remained nearly untouched. Their faces were flushed, their breathing steady.
By the end, even Thor had joined the fight—although only to pick off weakened enemies here and there.
"This is the first time I've seen a mortal with such determination," Fandral muttered, glancing at the exhausted yet eager Thor.
"Unfortunately, they're our enemies."
With that, the Asgardians raised their weapons. In a single motion, the five remaining ninjas were decapitated. Their heads fell to the ground silently.
The four warriors of Asgard had undergone centuries of training.
Killing was second nature—and nothing would distract them from their mission.
"Huff… Huff…"
Thor panted. "Let's go to the warehouse."
Just as they were about to move, a calm, slightly cold voice echoed through the night.
"Four strong warriors? No... five."
"Five of you entered uninvited and slaughtered so many of my people. What is your purpose?"
*************************************
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