Razeil
patreon
Chapter 110: Your Wife Is Pretty Nice!
🕑 Added 2026-01-04 15:18:30 +0000 UTC“Hammer?”
Harry’s expression turned odd, and Thor’s image instantly popped into his mind.
Could it be Thor’s hammer?
The moment the thought surfaced, Harry decisively shook his head and dismissed it.
Thor treasured Mjolnir the way a cat servant worships their feline overlord—he didn’t want to be separated from it for even a second, let alone allow other people to touch it whenever they pleased. How could he possibly let his hammer randomly drop onto Midgard?
But if it wasn’t Thor… then what else could it be?
What other hammer on Earth could be that special?
Curiosity surged through Harry, and he couldn’t help asking, “What’s special about this hammer?”
Coulson’s description was crisp and professional, without a hint of rambling:
“The head is a gray square, smooth and perfectly flat, and its hardness is beyond anything we’ve seen. The handle is made of some kind of special wood—equally tough.
We’ve tried everything from cutting-edge cutting tools to high-energy impacts, and it hasn’t left even a scratch.
And so far, thousands of people have attempted it—no one has been able to move it even an inch.”
Harry: “???”
Poor Thor. His precious Meow-Meow—his beloved hammer—had already been handled by thousands of people, one after another, taking turns trying their luck.
Harry clicked his tongue helplessly. Fine—he took back what he’d thought earlier. No matter how you looked at it, this could only be Thor’s Meow-Meow.
He just didn’t know what had happened in Asgard for Thor to lose the one thing he loved most.
Because Thor cared about that hammer far more than any girlfriend he’d ever had. In Thor’s eyes, those past romances probably didn’t weigh as much as this hammer did.
Harry made a quick judgment. “That hammer is very likely Mjolnir. Wait there—I’m coming right now.”
“Mjolnir?” Coulson blurted, shock flashing across his face. “You mean the weapon from Norse mythology—Thor’s hammer?”
“That’s right. I told you about Asgard before. It came from there,” Harry said.
Coulson shook his head with a bitter smile. “Mr. Potter… even if you mentioned it, when something from a myth actually shows up in reality, it’s still hard to believe. We grew up hearing those stories—they were always just fiction to us.”
On the video call, Harry carefully examined the surrounding space.
After confirming the location, he first sent Gwen safely home. Then he opened a portal and stepped through it—appearing in the blink of an eye deep in a desolate wilderness.
This was a remote stretch of desert in New Mexico, usually empty and forgotten, like a corner of the world no one remembered.
Blazing sunlight stabbed down without mercy, baking the earth.
As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but endless sand and barren land.
Some time ago, thunder and lightning had raged as a sudden storm swallowed the desert.
Then, a dazzling streak of light tore across the night sky. A “meteor” fell from above, dragging smoke and dust in its wake, and slammed into the ground.
When the first person arrived at the crater, they realized in disbelief that this wasn’t a meteor at all—
It was a hammer with a bizarre design.
Curiosity flaring, the person grabbed the handle and tried to lift it.
What stunned them even more was that no matter how hard they tried—even using a car to pull—it wouldn’t budge in the slightest.
It was obviously supernatural.
After the first discoverer drunkenly blabbed about it, the news spread like wildfire.
Within days, the impact site became lively, swarmed by people coming to try their luck, all hoping to lift the hammer—only to arrive excited and leave disappointed.
That frenzy lasted until a few days later, when a mysterious organization quietly appeared.
They moved fast—setting up layers of warning lines, sealing the crater off tight, posting guards everywhere, strictly forbidding civilians from approaching.
Only then did the incident gradually die down and slip out of the public eye, remembered only in occasional chatter among a handful of people.
But what they didn’t know was that the story of Meow-Meow and its useless owner was only now officially beginning.
When Harry stepped out of the portal, Coulson had already been waiting. Seeing Harry appear, he immediately walked up with a warm smile, gestured politely, and led him toward the center of the newly built military base.
Along the way, Harry looked around with open curiosity.
Through window after window, he could see tall outer walls or fencing and dense surveillance cameras around the perimeter of the base.
After only a few steps, he saw several patrol vehicles rolling by, soldiers fully armed, scrutinizing every corner without missing a single potential threat.
Harry raised a brow, a grin forming as he teased, “Looks like you’re taking Meow-Meow pretty seriously.”
“Meow-Meow?” Coulson repeated, confused by the nickname.
“Mjolnir. Thor babies that hammer like crazy—like a cat servant treating their cat overlord—so I call it Meow-Meow.”
“You’re close with Thor?” Coulson’s eyes flickered with curiosity as he probed carefully.
“Yeah, of course. He’s a great guy—bold and straightforward. Being around him is refreshing. Not like Loki, that snake—full of bad ideas, always causing headaches.”
Coulson immediately shut his mouth and fell silent.
He did not dare complain about two gods behind their backs—especially Loki, the famous God of Mischief, and Thor, the God of Thunder.
Who could guarantee gods didn’t have some unimaginable way of observing things?
If they found out, it could trigger a serious diplomatic crisis.
Even if the chance was tiny, Coulson was a seasoned, well-trained agent. His consistent principle was caution—he would never leave even the smallest opening for a potential disaster.
They reached the core area of the base. Looking ahead, a bald agent stood inside the crater, closely examining Meow-Meow.
Harry vaguely recognized him. Bald, but with none of the aura or “strong-person” vibe at all—completely unqualified. His name seemed to be Sitwell.
When Sitwell saw Harry and Coulson approaching, his face darkened, like some unpleasant memory had been yanked up.
But years of agent training let him rein himself in instantly.
He put on a professional smile and said to Harry:
“Consultant Potter. This is the hammer. We’ve tried countless methods, but we can’t lift it.”
Coulson and Sitwell both looked at Harry with expectant eyes, hoping he could provide some useful intel.
This “mystic” stuff was too complicated. Forget Sitwell— even Coulson, the newly minted magical prodigy, didn’t truly understand it. So all they could do was ask Harry.
Harry nodded and walked up in front of Meow-Meow.
In an instant, magic flowed like lively threads, weaving and constructing in an orderly pattern in his eyes. A delicate observation array took shape in moments.
The array glimmered faintly. Through it, Harry’s gaze pierced straight into the hammer.
Soon, a flood of dense information rushed in. Harry focused intensely, analyzing Mjolnir’s structure in meticulous detail.
The head of Mjolnir was forged from Asgard’s finest uru metal.
The handle was crafted from wood of the World Tree.
And beyond the materials, the interior of the hammer was packed with countless rune arrays carved into it.
Ancient and mysterious, those runes granted Mjolnir many astonishing properties—
Control of lightning, the power of flight, energy shielding, magical resistance, and more.
But even these powerful rune arrays weren’t the true core of Mjolnir.
The most important, most critical thing inside it—
Was Odin’s blessing.
Odin poured an enormous amount of divine power into Mjolnir and placed an enchantment upon it: only those recognized by Odin—those with noble character, a righteous heart, and sufficient strength—could lift it.
None of that information was secret, so Harry told Coulson everything without holding back.
After hearing it, Coulson frowned slightly, thought for a moment, then said with a helpless bitter smile, “So… in that king’s eyes, none of us count as people with noble character and a righteous heart.”
Harry wasn’t surprised. He simply smiled calmly. “That’s normal. To a god-king, the mortal world is complicated and messy—most people can’t reach the standard he expects. If you ask me, maybe only Captain America—Steve Rogers—ever truly fit the requirements he set.”
Coulson’s eyes lit up. “Consultant Potter, you’re a fan of the Captain too?”
“I am. He’s someone worthy of respect.”
Then Harry suddenly stepped closer to Mjolnir. Coulson’s expression turned eager, curiosity swelling—could Harry lift it?
Harry stood before Meow-Meow, eyes filled with curiosity and exploration.
He’d always been fascinated by the secrets of this hammer. He’d even approached Thor before, wanting to borrow it for deeper research.
But Thor treasured it too much. Without even thinking, he refused immediately.
To Thor, Meow-Meow was like his beloved wife—no one else was allowed to covet it, let alone touch it.
Harry grinned mischievously, reached out, wrapped his hand around the handle, and pulled—
And he lifted it easily.
Off to the side, Coulson and Sitwell’s pupils contracted sharply.
Coulson felt genuine joy—because it meant Harry was someone full of justice.
Sitwell’s expression, however, grew darker. He knew it: HYDRA’s plan to recruit Harry was doomed before it even began.
They simply couldn’t understand it.
Besides noble character… what else could Harry possibly be relying on to lift Mjolnir?
Strength?
That was absurd. In this world, whose strength could surpass Odin’s?
Coulson hurried forward, staring in disbelief at Harry—and at Thor’s “wife” in Harry’s hand—then exclaimed, “Consultant Potter… you have the same noble qualities as the Captain!”
But what Coulson didn’t expect was that Harry shook his head, denying it.
Under Coulson’s puzzled gaze, Harry smiled lightly. “No, Coulson. I’m just a mortal. I simply have… more power than most.”
A faint tremor ran through the chaos magic inside him—
And it completely suppressed the hammer of Thor, forged by Odin at the cost of immense power.
Poor Thor.
His beloved wife had now become entirely… Harry-shaped.
If Thor ever saw this, wouldn’t that be like getting humiliated right in front of the husband?
Feeling the immense power contained within Meow-Meow, Harry raised his brow and thought with sincere interest:
Thor, your wife is really something.
