"Looks like in the half hour or so we were gone, this bunch has gotten a lot closer than before."
Captain America raised an eyebrow, walking up to Batman with a smile.
Batman nodded slightly, taking a seat beside Jack Monroe. "How did the topic of the hammer come up?"
"A waiter wanted to clear the table to put down some beer and found he couldn't move the hammer." Jack Monroe gave an exceptionally bright smile, looking thoroughly satisfied at having some entertainment to watch.
"Hawkeye, go ahead and give it a shot without fear! Even if you can't lift it, we won't laugh at you," Jack Russell, the Werewolf by Night, chuckled, teasingly egging him on.
There were only two women among the Avengers: Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, and Mockingbird, Barbara Morse.
At the moment, the two women were sitting at the distant bar counter chatting between themselves. The ones gathered around the hammer Mjolnir were all men, talking completely without restraint.
Hawkeye wasn't the least bit angry at Jack Russell's teasing; he knew full well it was just a joke.
Rolling up his sleeves, Hawkeye stepped forward a few paces and wrapped his hand around Mjolnir. He didn't exert any force right away, but instead looked at Thor, the God of Thunder.
"Thor, does what you said earlier still count?"
Thor took a huge gulp of his drink with a loud glug, making a sweeping "be my guest" gesture with his hand.
Hawkeye glanced around, seeing Batman and Captain America sitting beside Jack Monroe. He let out a couple of hearty laughs and suddenly heaved with all his strength.
The hammer didn't budge an inch, nor did the table even shake. Keep in mind, this table wasn't bolted to the floor; any ordinary adult could easily move it.
"Clint, come find me after the party. I'll arrange for the best physical therapist in Metropolis to take care of you," Tony Stark joked.
"I suspect there's some kind of trick to this, but I can't expose it." Hawkeye wasn't angry either, pointing a finger at Tony Stark. "Tony, your turn."
Tony was sipping from a glass of champagne. Seeing everyone's eyes turn toward him after Hawkeye spoke, he quickly snapped his fingers.
"Hold on."
After saying that, he remained sitting in place, unmoving.
The superheroes naturally knew what he was waiting for, each chuckling quietly without saying a word.
A few minutes later, as the manor doors were pushed open, a suit of Mark armor—slightly different from the one used during the Battle of Manhattan—walked inside, stepping straight up to Batman and the group.
Tony Stark gave everyone a triumphant smirk.
"I've already calculated the weight of this hammer just now. It's definitely no more than a hundred kilograms; otherwise, this table would never hold up."
"And my Mark VIII is capable of lifting over five tons. Watch and learn."
Captain America leaned back against the sofa behind him, watching Iron Man, fully armored, step up to the table and heave with sudden force!
Yet again, both the hammer and table remained completely motionless, as though the hammer and the table together had taken root in the ground.
However, Iron Man knew that even if it were solid concrete ground, wearing his Mark VIII armor, he could rip up an entire slab of concrete.
"I get it. This hammer might not actually be that heavy, but rather 'anchored' in place by some mechanism," Iron Man said after trying without success. He didn't keep trying, stepping out of the armor and sitting back down on his chair.
"Of course. When Thor took the elevator, the elevator moved with the hammer, but the elevator didn't become a 'Thunder Elevator,'" Max Dillon, Electro, remarked.
After Iron Man gave up, Jack Russell, Sam Wilson the Falcon, and even Jack Monroe each took a turn trying, ultimately reaching one conclusion:
"Except for Thor, the God of Thunder, nobody can lift this hammer."
"Cap, why don't you try too?" Seeing Captain America sitting on the side with a smile for a long time, Iron Man egged him on.
Captain America readily agreed. Rolling up his sleeves, he wrapped the strap at the end of the handle around his hand, grabbed the hammer, and pulled up hard.
He likewise declared failure. Right after his attempt, he immediately directed everyone's gaze toward Batman.
"Batman, why don't you give it a try?"
Batman didn't keep a cold face this time. Instead, he declined Captain America's invitation with a slight smile.
"I've already tried quietly a few times, and all ended in failure."
Iron Man leaned in close to Thor's ear and asked in a low voice, "For real?"
"Indeed, 'tis true," Thor said.
"Hahaha..." Iron Man instantly burst into laughter, though nobody knew what he was actually so happy about.
The party lasted until evening.
Batman didn't linger the entire time. Halfway through, after catching Venom Robin, who was hiding beside the manor refrigerator crazily sneaking chocolates, the two of them boarded the Batwing together and returned to Bat Island.
Thor stayed behind at the Avengers Manor, seemingly planning to drink the entire night away with Tony Stark.
"Where... is this?"
In a daze, Doctor Strange opened his eyes, looking up at the bright surgical light above and the figures with unidentifiable faces standing beside him as he asked.
"This is Parker Hospital, Strange."
"You are..." Doctor Strange blinked hard, clearing his vision to see the man's face. He strained his memory. "Peter Parker?"
Batman had already removed the Gargoyle suit, changed into a brown suit, and come to Parker Hospital.
Based on his understanding of Doctor Strange's condition, Batman had estimated he would wake up today—and indeed he had.
"What happened..." Doctor Strange instinctively tried to ask what had occurred.
As he spoke, he intended to raise his hands to rub his eyes. But only after making the movement to lift his hands did he realize, with delayed horror, that there was hardly a spot on his entire body that didn't ache—especially the ten fingers of his hands, which throbbed with excruciating, bone-piercing pain.
His gaze shifted downward. Slowly moving his arms, he raised his hands, only to see dense clusters of steel pins sticking out of his palms like a hedgehog. White gauze and plaster splints covered his palms, yet the shocking, dreadful scars on his fingers remained exposed.
"Peter, what did you do?" Doctor Strange's voice trembled uncontrollably as he spoke.
Batman, currently in his identity as Peter Parker, let out a regretful sigh:
"I arranged for the best doctors in all of New York to perform the surgery on you. But even so, during the time you were trapped in the car, you missed the golden window for repairing nerve damage."
"The surgery lasted eleven hours. No one could have done better."
After the Battle of Manhattan ended, Batman had immediately instructed Alice, the CEO of Parker Industries, to send Doctor Strange to Parker Hospital to receive treatment from the top surgeons they had recruited.
Luke Cage, having been attacked as well, was also at Parker Hospital. However, he had already awakened and recovered two days ago, returning to Hell's Kitchen.
Currently, Doctor Strange was the one and only patient in Parker Hospital.
"I could have done better," Doctor Strange said after a long silence in the face of Batman's sigh.
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