Before Loki could react, a sudden gust of wind knocked him off his feet.
"I was about to tell you, that spot is a dragon nesting ground, and the rock is just camouflage," Selwyn remarked. "Though I guess it doesn't matter now."
Loki: "…"
He scrambled up awkwardly and saw a small dragon, about half the height of a man, coiled where he had just been sitting. Beneath the rock, several eggs with white shells and blue patterns were revealed.
"Avea Pygmy Dragons," Selwyn explained. "They're a bit temperamental. Sitting on their favorite rocks is considered an offense. But they're herbivores at heart, mostly fond of fruits and berries. If you want to make peace, try offering it some watermelon."
Loki was not about to do something so ridiculous. Instead, he stormed off to Selwyn's courtyard and flopped onto a lounge chair. At least humans wouldn't fight him over seating. Meanwhile, Selwyn split his watermelon in half and fed it to the dragon, still visibly irritated, gently explaining, "This guest just arrived recently. It's rude to treat him this way."
The dragon snorted, clearly unconvinced.
"Because he's injured. People in pain tend to be grumpy."
From the dragon's huffs and Selwyn's one-sided reasoning, Loki deduced that the dragon had already tattled on him. Still, he glanced at Selwyn, patiently coaxing the creature, and chose not to argue.
"You healed that alien cat S.H.I.E.L.D. brought in. Are you one of their people?" Loki asked.
"I just help occasionally," Selwyn replied. "I specialize in treating non-human species, particularly fantastical creatures."
He turned to Loki. "By the way, I never asked—what species are you? Different races respond differently to medicines. The more I know, the better I can work on a cure for your curse."
Loki fell silent.
The Silver Tongue of Asgard, usually so articulate, mumbled, "Just use universal treatment methods. If you need a reference, consider Vanir physiology."
"Got it. I don't know much about aliens, but I only asked to gauge your tolerance to mana-based medicines," Selwyn explained. "Some medications with high mana content can act like poison for certain species."
It was like chocolate for dogs—delicious for humans but deadly for canines. Similarly, high mana concentrations made spellcasting easier for Selwyn but could burn through the nervous systems of ordinary humans.
"But hot cocoa is safe for everyone," Selwyn added, handing Loki a cup with two marshmallows floating on top. "Care to try? A Midgard specialty."
The warm, sweet liquid filled Loki's stomach as he sipped.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the planet, Tony Stark downed a mug of hot cocoa in one gulp.
"Impossible!" he bellowed at the screen. "Absolutely impossible! There's no way my space curvature monitors are malfunctioning. This is an insult to my reputation!"
On the other side of the screen, Nick Fury's face was lined with worry. "Calm down, Tony. I'm just trying to figure out where the issue is."
With Earth becoming more entangled in intergalactic affairs, preventing alien intrusions had become a critical task. While many magical organizations, including the Vishanti, monitored space jumps, none were willing to share their data with S.H.I.E.L.D.
S.H.I.E.L.D. lacked a dedicated mage consultant, and the magic community viewed them as meddling Americans. Thus, Fury had turned to science-based solutions—namely, Tony Stark's space curvature monitoring devices.
In theory, these devices could detect both magical and scientific space jumps by tracking spatial distortions. However, in practice, they frequently triggered false alarms.
Magicians used dimensional magic for everything—from preserving juice freshness to sneaking onto Earth.
These devices struggled to distinguish between types of magic, resulting in hypersensitive alarms.
"There was definitely a large-scale space jump in that area!" Tony declared. "My products are flawless!"
Frustrated, Fury tried to placate him. "Tony, I'm not doubting you. But the local administrator reported no abnormalities."
"Then maybe you should question their competency!" Tony retorted.
Fury sighed. The local administrator was simply easier to contact. Admitting that, however, would likely get him blacklisted, so he diplomatically said, "We've also distributed updated regulations for alien immigrants in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s name."
The regulations required all extraterrestrial intelligent beings to register upon arriving on Earth, abide by local laws during their stay, and face deportation for severe violations. Trustworthy aliens, like Thor, could even apply for Earth's equivalent of a green card.
"A green card for Earth?" Tony mocked. "Listen to yourself."
Fury paused, recognizing the absurdity but knowing it was the best compromise they could secure. Earth was no longer the free-for-all planet it once was.
Back in Selwyn's cottage, an old fax machine whirred to life, spitting out pages.
Loki, sipping honey tea from a coarse wooden cup with the airs of a nobleman, watched Selwyn collect the documents. Selwyn skimmed the first page and read aloud: "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s latest regulations on managing alien immigrants…"
Loki took a page and read. The document outlined that all non-Earth intelligent species needed to register upon arrival, follow Earth's laws, and could be deported for egregious behavior.
Midgardians were truly getting bold.
"You've got aliens all over this place," Loki noted. "You seem to be the only human here."
A fairy, no larger than a palm, flew past the window carrying a honey jar and waved at them.
"They're Earth natives," Selwyn replied. "Dragons too—they mostly live in Earth's faerie realm."
Loki knew about multidimensional planes and clicked his tongue. "I ended up here by accident. Blame space pirates—I lost my ship and possessions…"
The fax machine whirred again, spitting out a list of restricted aliens. The first name on the list: Loki Odinson.
Loki: "…"
What did banning Loki have to do with Loptr?
"You don't need extra paperwork while you're here," Selwyn reassured him. "But if you want to visit a city, make sure to update your registration."
He looked over the restricted list, clicking his tongue. "Times are really changing."
Loki agreed. In the past, he had sneaked into Midgard numerous times without leaving a trace.
Selwyn explained that this land was connected to Volkmeir, a dragon-filled zone within the faerie realm, and his role was to act as a doctor for this border region.
"A borderland?" Loki inquired. "Between human society and the faerie realm?"
"Yes, a natural phase-shift zone. Think of it as a passage between Volkmeir and North America," Selwyn clarified. He noticed Loki's expression shift into one of excitement. "…What are you doing?"
"Just… admiring the scenery," Loki replied, though his expression was brimming with ambition.
Dragons were walking treasure troves: their bones crafted legendary swords, their hides made anti-curse gloves, their blood healed wounds, and their teeth were excellent for spellcasting. Gazing at the shadow of a crystal-winged dragon overhead, Loki dreamed of all the wealth it could bring.
This place was a living gold mine, richer than Odin's treasury.
"I live alone here," Selwyn added, interrupting Loki's thoughts. "Most humans can't handle the mana density in this area."
Selwyn pointed to a computer on the table. "I get supplies once a month in exchange for offering online consultations for medical issues regular doctors can't solve."
He gestured to the screen, showing a simple Q&A platform with Selwyn as the sole logged-in doctor. The consultation log contained questions like:
"Can you treat mutants?" Depends on the specific condition.
"My laser eyes are tired and dry. Regular eye drops disintegrate instantly." Try using a heat-resistant lubricant.
"What if I can't stop transforming into a werewolf under the full moon?" Consider relocating to a place without visible moonlight.
Scrolling through the logs, Loki muttered: "This man might just be an incompetent quack."