"Or else what!"
"…"
The moment that eerie voice sounded from behind the Hydra trio, their faces drained of all color.
Gwen, however, smiled.
The stern mask she had worn melted instantly, her bright eyes slipping past the agents' shoulders—landing on Hawk, who seemed to have materialized out of thin air behind them. Her lips curved into a beautiful smile.
As expected.
Whenever she was in danger, Hawk always appeared at her side in the very first instant.
Gwen's smile turned sweet.
Then her gaze shifted back to the pale-faced Hydra agents, trembling now, as if to say with her eyes: "See? I warned you."
Inside the house, Sharon Carter—who had been pressed against the wall, fighting to stay conscious—finally let go at the sound of Hawk's voice. Relief washed over her features before she collapsed with a thud.
"Sharon!"
Gwen's face changed instantly. She spun back toward the living room, leaving the door wide open.
There was no need to close it now. The man of the house had returned.
When Hawk discovered he couldn't reach Gwen via satellite phone, unease took hold. He had rushed back to New York at once.
From afar, he had spotted three "federal agents" standing at his door, Gwen blocking them. A thought later, his form vanished from high above the clouds—reappearing silently behind them, just in time to hear their threats.
Hawk chuckled.
As Gwen ran inside calling Sharon's name, the three agents slowly, mechanically turned their heads.
And saw him.
The man Hydra called the Demon King.
Expressionless, Hawk regarded them. His tone was calm, but cutting:
"Go on. Or else what? Planning to force your way into my house? Planning to kill my fiancée before you do?"
The Hydra men shivered violently, heads shaking like rattles, stammering:
"No!"
"Absolutely not!"
"We were only bluffing!"
"Just following orders, Demon Ki—no, Mr. Phoenix!"
"Heh."
Hawk chuckled softly, studying them. He asked, almost idly:
"Hydra, then?"
Their bodies stiffened. They exchanged glances.
Finally, the lead man swallowed hard, blurting everything out—the whole scheme of red face, white face, black face meant to pressure Sharon Carter out of hiding.
"Mr. Phoenix, we swear we never intended to harm Miss Stacy!"
"No—not even the thought!"
"Is that so."
Hawk's eyes darkened. "You say it wasn't your choice. That it was your superior's order. Who? Alexander Pierce?"
The lead agent shook his head.
"No. John Garrett."
"Who?"
Hawk frowned. The name rang no bell. Some small fry, then.
And yet…
A small fry dared send men to his doorstep while he was away?
Fine. If he hadn't killed enough, he'd kill more. If he hadn't killed cruelly enough, he'd kill crueler.
The Hydra agents spilled everything they knew—Garrett's role as former S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, now "consultant," the one commanding Hydra's strike inside New York. They begged desperately for their lives.
Hawk didn't move.
When they fell silent, pleading eyes fixed on him, his lips curved into a faint smile.
Their hearts leapt with hope—
Until his next words dropped them into an ice pit.
"Thank you. But no."
His eyes blazed crimson.
Boom!
Twin beams of searing scarlet shot forth, phoenix fire laced within. The three Hydra agents vaporized instantly—no ashes left behind.
It was a technique Hawk had forged after his clash with Ikaris, refined when he absorbed Tiamut's life-force. Simple in principle: channeling his mutated Phoenix energy into ocular blasts.
He had been eager to test it against Ikaris' heat vision someday.
For now, the results were… satisfactory.
His eyes cleared. A smile touched his lips as he stared at the empty spot where the Hydra men had stood.
He had never promised to let them live.
Ridiculous.
They had knocked on his door. They had threatened his fiancée. Even if their hearts quailed, they had dared. That alone was enough.
And worse—he could smell the test in it, the probing.
He wouldn't allow that. Not once.
Kill one to warn a hundred.
That was why Ross' family had been wiped from their graves to the living. Why Wakanda's tribe had been reduced to ashes.
Better a river of blood now than an ocean of blood later.
Hawk's creed was simple:
Do not provoke me. Or I will kill your family. Your people. Your entire kind.
"…John Garrett, was it?"
A grin touched his mouth.
"Let's see if you really have nine lives."
His gaze shifted toward Times Square.
But before he could move, a voice called from inside.
"Hawk!"
"…Coming."
The killing intent in his heart sank instantly. He turned back inside.
On the sofa, Gwen was supporting Sharon, whose pulse fluttered weakly. She looked up, worried.
"Hawk, she's fading fast."
He glanced at Sharon. "A fragment's still inside."
"Impossible, I—" Gwen cut off, eyes darting to the bullets she had pulled. One was incomplete.
She hissed sharply. "Then we need a hospital. Now."
Hawk nodded. His telekinesis lifted Sharon gently, carrying her toward the garage.
"I'm coming too." Gwen hurried beside him.
"Of course." Hawk agreed without hesitation. Until he knew whether Hydra's move had been a probe, Gwen would not leave his side.
As Sharon was laid in the back seat and the garage door rumbled open, Hawk glanced toward Gwen in the passenger seat. A teasing smile flickered.
"Tell me, 'eats people and leaves no bones'—was that true?"
"Ah—"
Gwen froze, then caught his look, smiling sheepishly.
"I was just trying to make you sound scarier, so they'd back off."
"Your fault."
"Mine?"
She nodded. "You were gone half a month. If you'd come back sooner, I wouldn't need to make you sound so terrifying."
Hawk blinked, then sighed, shaking his head with a wry smile.
"…Alright. My fault."
"It's fine. I forgive you. Now drive."
"…"
(End of Chapter)
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