103 is that person!

When Jos’s plane touched down, he didn’t have to endure the tedious wait for clearance like an ordinary passenger. Instead, he and Tornado disembarked ahead of schedule and immediately boarded a vehicle manned by a team from S.H.I.E.L.D., heading straight to the incident site.

However, Tornado did not accompany him. Partly because explaining her identity was troublesome, and partly to give her a chance to explore the city and practice on her own.

The place where Thor’s hammer had fallen was on the outskirts, and since S.H.I.E.L.D. had already cordoned off the entire area, the journey was smooth and swift. Before long, Jos arrived at the temporary base.

“What kind of person is he? Why is he here?” As soon as Jos stepped inside, a man with a stern and cold demeanor blocked his path.

The driver who brought Jos seemed to hold a lower rank than the man confronting them. Upon hearing the question, he nervously explained, “Mr. Jos was sent here by Director Nick from headquarters. The relevant information was sent this morning, but you were probably still in the lab at the time, so you didn’t see it.”

The driver’s words were delivered as smoothly as possible, making it sound like this was merely an accident.

But in truth, there was no way the man was unaware that someone was coming—especially someone dispatched by Nick himself to handle this matter. The driver’s posture was likely meant to intimidate Jos.

As expected, the stern man remained unmoved by the explanation. Raising his head slightly, he snorted coldly. “Nick sent someone? Another one of his so-called superheroes? Does he really think these tight-suited playboys can do a better job than us professional scientists?”

Though harsh, the man’s words weren’t entirely without merit.

While superheroes often appear omnipotent, their involvement frequently complicates matters.

For example, it’s one thing to ask Wolverine to take down someone, but quite another to expect him to teach a class. The best cautionary tale is Deadpool trying to counsel others—his sharp tongue only provoked more trouble, leading to the death of many and escalating a minor conflict into a human-mutant extinction war. So much so that a figure resembling the governor had to travel back from the future to prevent the catastrophe.

The scientific team had been working tirelessly on this research, only for Nick to suddenly barge in and hand over control to some unknown person. What kind of nonsense was that?

If it had been Tony Stark, that might be understandable. His genius mind was beyond ordinary researchers’ comprehension, capable of breakthroughs in moments that others might take a week to achieve.

But Jos? Who even knew who he was?

The stern man’s anger stemmed not only from the sudden arrival of an outsider but also from frustration that an unknown figure like Jos insisted on meddling. Perhaps other emotions fed into his irritation, but all these culminated in the current tense standoff.

Jos’s face betrayed no emotion, but inside he was a tempest, his muscles trembling despite his powerful control.

This was no easy feat.

After traveling through so many worlds, he had finally encountered the classic trope of transmigrators—the “showing off and getting slapped down” scene!

And this opponent was formidable, immediately dismissing him with brute force. Now, Jos only needed to make a subtle move, and the stern man’s attitude would undergo a full—no, a complete 180-degree reversal!

Whether it was this world’s inherent strangeness, his own peculiar fate, or most likely the quirks of his system, Jos felt his life since crossing over had never been normal.

From the initial tests to the first battle and the myriad experiences since, every reflection was absurdly comical, completely lacking the exhilaration of steady power upgrades typical of transmigrators.

Today, however, was a rare opportunity—he had been handed a perfect moment.

And if it were anything else, Jos might not have been able to intervene, but Thor’s hammer? He knew that intimately.

Even before crossing over, he had three figurines at home—how could he not be familiar?

If questioned, Jos could immediately recite every function of the hammer, leaving those researchers who had been struggling for days utterly dumbfounded.

“Ahem... here’s the thing...” Rehearsing the script in his mind, Jos cleared his throat and prepared to speak with the air of a seasoned expert.

But before he could utter a word, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who drove him spoke first, his tone a mix of reverence and awe, his voice trembling slightly: “Sir, this is the man himself!”

At once, the stern man’s expression changed. His gaze toward Jos grew unusually intense, disbelief evident as he asked, “What? You’re actually that person?!”

The exclamation was loud enough that S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel nearby, who had been rushing past, stopped in their tracks. Their eyes on Jos were terrifying, like a crowd of grandmothers spotting a butcher’s boy.

“Did you hear that? He’s that person!”

“Obviously, I’m not deaf. I’ve even met him before!”

“Oh my God, I never expected that person to show up here. This must be more valuable than we thought.”

“Don’t worry. With him here, everything will be fine.”

The temporary base soon buzzed with various voices as news of “that person’s” arrival spread.

Upon learning Jos’s identity, even the stern man smiled, shedding his previous hostility. Humbly, he led Jos further inside the base.

Throughout it all, Jos remained utterly bewildered as he greeted those around him.

Why did everyone seem to know me? Had I done something noteworthy? Why did their attitudes shift so drastically once they heard I was “that person”?

More importantly, who exactly was “that person”?

Why did it sound like everyone understood that mysterious title? Why was I suddenly treated like a seasoned, famous hero?

And where exactly were they taking me? I might want to show off sometimes, but I’m no scientist. What good would it do to bring me in just to look at Thor’s hammer?

Even when brought before the hammer itself, Jos was still lost in confusion.