One thousand days.
Two years, nine months, and five days.
After finishing today's training, Hawk stood under the shower in the gym's locker room, water pouring down his body. He summoned the cheat interface only he could see, and looking at the progress bar—just one day short of completion—he still felt as though he were dreaming.
After all…
Ten thousand punches a day, one thousand days without fail. Easy to say, incredibly hard to do.
Even Hawk sometimes wondered how he had managed to keep going.
Maybe it was just his stubborn personality.
Or maybe it was because this was the Marvel Universe.
He didn't know.
But there was one thing he was sure of.
"One day."
"Just one day left."
When today passed, tomorrow he could finally activate the cheat.
"Microcosmos Cultivation…"
"I wonder if it's the one I think it is."
In his memory, there was only one thing tied to the term "Microcosmos Cultivation."
If it really was what he thought…
Then the future was limitless!
According to the ancient Greek philosopher Democritus, all things were composed of atoms, and within the human body existed a miniature universe.
The Microcosmos.
Cultivating the Microcosmos meant awakening one's inner life energy, activating the universe within, and training it to the point where, by burning it, one could gain power surpassing the laws of physics.
Hawk remembered a certain anime from his previous life that revolved around this concept.
Its name—Saint Seiya!
Bronze Saints who controlled the five senses, reaching toward the sixth.
Silver Saints who grasped the sixth sense, touching upon the seventh.
Gold Saints who fully mastered the seventh sense.
And beyond the Seventh Sense were the Eighth and even the Ninth…
Fragments of scenes from that anime flickered through Hawk's mind.
A moment later, he shook his head with a wry smile.
Right now, he wasn't even sure if his "Microcosmos Cultivation" cheat was the same as what he remembered. Why think so far ahead?
Besides…
It wasn't like he wanted to punch Odin or kick Zeus.
Most importantly—
He had already lived in this world for seventeen years. Before the cheat appeared at fifteen, he had prepared himself to face this bloody world without any cheats at all.
So…
"Mindset matters."
"The bigger the expectation, the bigger the disappointment if it's not what you thought."
With that thought, Hawk shook away his distractions, wrung out his freshly washed T-shirt, placed it along with his pants into a plastic bag, wrapped a towel around his waist, dried his hair with another, and pushed open the shower stall door.
Bang!
The locker room door slammed open.
A thin, scrawny figure was shoved inside from the hallway.
The boy stumbled a few steps before falling flat onto the tiled floor.
"This is…"
"Peter?"
Hawk raised an eyebrow when he saw the original Spider-Man himself, Peter Parker, land on the floor.
Peter also noticed Hawk emerging from the showers. His expression turned awkward.
Just as Peter was about to greet Hawk—who was in the same grade but had never really spoken to him—the sound of laughter came from outside.
A moment later, in walked Eugene "Flash" Thompson, known both as "Flash" and as Midtown's "bully," captain of the football team, tall and broad-shouldered, clutching a football, with three lackeys trailing behind him.
The laughter stopped cold.
Hawk, holding his bag of freshly washed clothes in one hand, a towel around his waist, and his other hand rubbing his wet hair, turned his gaze on Flash Thompson.
Flash was tall and muscular.
But Hawk was no less imposing.
After nine hundred ninety-nine consecutive days of ten thousand punches each, his body was nothing but lean, explosive muscle.
Not like the show muscles from gyms, pumped by machines and supplements—his were raw, functional power. His arms rippled with strength, not grotesquely swollen but refined and ready to explode. The towel around his waist cut into his hips, his abs tightly packed, eight slabs arranged like armor.
For a moment, the air froze.
Everyone knew that in American schools, there was a clear pecking order, a chain of bullying.
As an orphan with no parents, Hawk should have been on the bullied side of that chain.
But he wasn't.
Not because he had fought the bullies before, but because anyone could see—Hawk didn't fit the description of someone "easy to pick on."
For three years, none of the school bullies had ever bothered him. And Hawk had never felt any obligation to stand up for others either.
No one was anyone else's savior.
This time was no different.
Hawk averted his gaze, pulled a clean T-shirt and pants from his bag, dressed quickly, packed his things, slung the bag over his shoulder, and walked toward Flash standing at the doorway.
Flash frowned, watching Hawk approach.
He knew Hawk.
After all, a guy who spent every day in the gym corner punching ten thousand times for over two years was impossible not to notice.
But did he know him well? Not at all.
Hawk never went to parties or gatherings. Even though he was always seen around school, it was as if he lived in a parallel world.
Flash's frown deepened as Hawk stopped in front of him.
"Haw—"
"Excuse me."
"…"
Instinctively, Flash stepped aside.
His three lackeys had wanted to mouth off, but when they met Hawk's calm, icy blue gaze—the kind that seemed to care about nothing—they too unconsciously moved aside.
"Thanks."
Hawk said calmly, walked out of the locker room, and left on his own.
Flash stood there, staring after Hawk's disappearing figure, brows furrowed, unsure what to make of it.
At that moment—
One of his lackeys shouted.
"Holy shit!"
"Boss, Peter ran away!"
"What?"
Flash snapped back to reality, seeing Peter Parker slipping out right behind Hawk. He immediately roared in anger.
"After him!"
"Stand still, Nerd Parker!"
…
(End of Chapter)
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