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The Marvel Universe.
June 15th, 2012.
Friday.
New York City—Midtown School of Science and Technology.
Seventeen-year-old Hawk was drenched in sweat, pushing himself to the limit in the old gymnasium.
CRACK!
Thwack, thwack, thwack!
A relentless series of brutal impacts echoed through the empty space. With every blow Hawk landed, the black heavy bag hanging from the ceiling swung wildly, its iron chain groaning under the strain.
Hawk's hair was already plastered to his scalp.
Sweat traced paths down his high cheekbones, over his clenched jawline, and finally dripped onto the collar of his worn, sweat-soaked t-shirt.
But his eyes never left the bag.
His focus was absolute.
Right now, that heavy bag was his entire world.
"Nine thousand, nine hundred and fifty-one!"
"Nine thousand, nine hundred and fifty-two!"
"..."
Hawk adjusted his footing, counting silently as he deftly weaved to the side, dodging the bag's returning swing. Without a moment's pause—a left hook, a right cross... every punch landed with solid, bone-jarring force. The bag shuddered violently under his storm of an assault, the leather on its surface looking more frayed and torn with each strike.
Punch.
Retract.
Punch again.
With every fist he threw, Hawk's movements seemed to accelerate.
Faster and faster.
Until—
"Ten thousand!"
BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
The fire in Hawk's eyes erupted in a blaze. The fist he'd just pulled back shot forward like a lightning strike, a viper's fang lashing out to slam into the heavy bag with pinpoint precision. The bag caved inward with a sickening thud, and the chain holding it finally gave out, snapping apart with a sharp crack.
Freed from its restraint, the heavy bag flew backward, letting out a final, mournful whine before it slammed onto the gym floor with a thunderous crash.
CRASH!
"Hah!"
With the final punch of his ten-thousand-punch daily regimen complete, Hawk stared at the torn bag on the floor and finally exhaled the breath he'd been holding, his chest heaving as he steadied himself.
Sweat flowed freely down his face, gathering at the tip of his chin before dripping onto the leg of his cheap sweatpants.
Of course.
"Cheap" was a relative term.
To anyone else, these twelve-dollar pants might be cheap—laughably so.
But not to Hawk.
After all...
In this life, he was an orphan—an orphan who had been reincarnated into the Marvel Universe.
If it weren't for his decent grades, which had earned him a scholarship to Midtown Tech, he wouldn't have stood a chance. The tuition alone, tens of thousands of dollars each semester, was a bill he could never hope to pay.
But even with the scholarship, Hawk still pinched every penny.
It wasn't because he had a natural habit of being frugal; it was because his scholarship wasn't a full ride.
It certainly wasn't the kind his classmate, the student aide Gwen Stacy, received.
Gwen Stacy had landed the top-tier scholarship.
Not only was her tuition completely covered, but the school also gave her a stipend each semester, not to mention the substantial prize money she won from various academic competitions.
Hawk's scholarship was the most common type—a simple tuition waiver.
After all, his grades were just "good," not exceptional.
But Hawk was more than satisfied with that.
Midtown Tech waived his tuition, and because he was a federally recognized orphan over the age of sixteen and under eighteen—a status known as 'transitional independence'—he received a monthly stipend of eight hundred dollars.
And since Midtown Tech was one of New York's elite schools, the state of New York kicked in another five hundred dollars a month.
All told, he had a monthly income of thirteen hundred dollars.
That kind of money wouldn't be enough for an adult living in New York City, but for Hawk—an orphan on federal aid with free tuition—it was enough.
More than enough, actually.
He ate his meals at school and slept in a low-income apartment provided by social services.
From his thirteen-hundred-dollar monthly stipend, he could cover his basic living expenses with five hundred dollars and still manage to save eight hundred a month.
What??
Five hundred isn't enough??
Again, that's relative.
It wouldn't be for an adult, but for Hawk, it was plenty.
He finished his 'Daily Ten-Thousand Punches' in the gym every afternoon, showered there, and even washed his clothes in the locker room sink. Then, he'd catch the last free school bus home, go straight to sleep, and wake up to catch the first bus back to school the next morning.
He had no utility bills, let alone a phone bill or an internet bill.
He was an orphan.
A one-man household.
Who would he call, and who would call him?
As for the internet?
Heh.
He didn't even own a computer. Whenever he needed to get online, the school library had public computers, and even printing was free.
So...
Even though this new life had started with him as an orphan again, Hawk felt like he was doing alright.
He saved eight hundred dollars a month and could even treat himself to a big bucket of fried chicken from a cheap joint every now and then to refuel.
To date, he had already saved up over thirty thousand dollars.
Life was good.
Of course.
It would be even better if the fried chicken place wasn't in such a rough neighborhood.
After a moment.
Hawk, who had been standing with his eyes closed, slowly opened them. He stared at the heavy bag on the floor, but his mind was elsewhere.
He wasn't looking at the bag, but at a prompt box floating in his vision.
To be more precise—his cheat.
[Cosmo Forging!]
[Current Status: "Inactive"]
[Activation Condition: "Ten Thousand Punches a Day, for One Thousand Consecutive Days"]
[Activation Progress: "999/1000"]
"Almost there!"
"Almost."
"Tomorrow. It activates tomorrow."
Hawk's heart pounded as he stared at the progress bar only he could see, wishing he could just fast-forward time to the next day.
This 'cheat' had appeared when he turned fifteen in this life.
To be exact, it had shown up on September 10th, 2009.
He remembered the date perfectly.
It was the day the Hulk had fought the Abomination in Harlem.
That was why he hadn't slacked off for a single second.
The moment his power appeared, his training began.
He had no choice.
The world he'd been reborn into was the Marvel Universe—a world where superheroes were a dime a dozen, where superhuman beings were treated like stray dogs, and where Cosmic Gods ran rampant.
Before he had this power, he could accept lying down and doing nothing.
But now that he had it, how could he stay down?
That would be a complete waste.
And so...
From the very day his power manifested, Hawk had maintained his routine of ten thousand punches a day.
Not one day less.
Come rain or shine.
Hell or high water.
To put it simply:
He could skip a meal.
But he could never skip his training.
And now, today.
He had maintained this routine for nine hundred and ninety-nine consecutive days.
At last...
The dawn of victory was finally within reach.
...
MC Image!
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