Marvel Universe.
June 15, 2012.
Friday.
New York City, Midtown High.
Seventeen-year-old Hawk was drenched in sweat, training hard in the school's rundown gym.
"Bang!"
"Bang, bang, bang!"
One heavy hit after another echoed loudly. A black sandbag suspended in mid-air kept swaying as Hawk pounded it relentlessly. Each time the sandbag flew up from the impact, the iron chains suspending it let out a sharp, jarring rattle.
Hawk's hair was soaked through with sweat.
Sweat streamed down from his pronounced cheekbones, ran along his tight jawline, and finally dripped onto the collar of his already sweat-drenched old T-shirt.
But Hawk's eyes never once left the sandbag.
His mind was laser-focused.
At this moment, the sandbag in front of him was his entire world.
"Nine thousand nine hundred fifty-one!"
"Nine thousand nine hundred fifty-two!"
"..."
Hawk adjusted his stance, mentally counting each punch, dodging the sandbag's recoil with swift sidesteps. Left hook, right swing — no pause, each punch landed solidly, shaking the sandbag violently. The worn leather surface tore further under his storm-like assault.
Punch.
Withdraw.
Punch again.
With every hit, Hawk's speed seemed to increase.
Faster.
And faster.
Until finally—
"Ten thousand!"
"Bang!"
A sudden blaze ignited in Hawk's eyes. His freshly retracted fist lashed out like lightning, striking the falling sandbag with cobra-like precision. The sandbag caved in from the impact, groaning under the force, and the chain finally snapped with a loud snap!
Now free from its restraints, the sandbag flew backward, spinning through the air before slamming into the ground with a thunderous crash.
"Boom!"
"Huff!"
With his daily 10,000 punches complete, Hawk finally let out a breath he'd been holding in, his chest rising and falling as he steadied his breathing.
Sweat poured freely down his face, collecting at the tip of his chin before dripping onto his cheap workout pants.
Of course—
"Cheap" was relative.
To others, this $12 pair of pants might seem dirt-cheap—maybe even disposable.
But to Hawk, that wasn't the case.
Because in this life… he was an orphan. And not just any orphan — one who had been reincarnated into the Marvel Universe.
If it weren't for the fact that he had decent grades and had earned a scholarship to Midtown High, well… Let's put it this way: even just paying the school's steep tuition fees, which ran into the tens of thousands per semester, would have been impossible for him.
Even with the scholarship, Hawk had to scrimp and save.
Not because he liked frugality.
But because his scholarship wasn't the best one.
Not like the one Gwen Stacy, the student assistant from his grade, had received.
Gwen Stacy had the top-tier scholarship — not only did she attend for free, she also received a stipend every semester. Not to mention all the lucrative academic competition prizes.
Hawk's scholarship was the more common type — tuition-free, but no extras.
After all, his grades were "excellent," but not "exceptional."
Still, Hawk was content.
With free tuition, plus being a federal orphan aged between sixteen and eighteen — what the government called an "independent transition period" — he received a monthly stipend of $800.
And because Midtown High was considered a "gifted" school in New York State, he also received a $500 monthly supplement from the state.
So altogether, he had a monthly income of $1,300.
That might not be enough for a working adult living in NYC…
But for a full-time student who didn't pay rent or tuition?
More than enough.
Especially since his meals were at school, and he slept in government-subsidized housing for federal orphans.
Each month, after about $500 in basic living costs, Hawk could still save $800.
What's that?
You think $500 isn't enough?
Again, that might be true for an adult — but for Hawk, it was plenty.
Every afternoon, he would complete his "10,000 daily punches" in the gym, take a shower, wash his clothes, and catch the last free school bus home. Sleep. Then take the first school bus back in the morning.
He didn't even pay for utilities, let alone phone bills or internet.
He was an orphan.
No one to call.
No one calling him.
As for the internet?
He didn't even own a computer.
And when he needed online access, the school library's public computers were free — printing included.
So—
Even though he started life in this world as an orphan again, Hawk felt he was doing alright.
He saved $800/month, and even treated himself occasionally with a big bucket of fried chicken at a cheap takeout place — a reward for his hard work.
At this point, he'd already saved over $30,000.
Life was good.
Well…
It would be perfect if the fried chicken shop didn't have so many Black people.
A moment later—
Standing still, Hawk slowly opened his eyes, staring at the sandbag on the ground, lost in thought.
Because he wasn't really looking at the sandbag—
He was looking at a floating notification panel that only he could see.
More specifically — his cheat system.
[Microcosm Cultivation!]
Current Status: "Inactive"
Activation Condition: "10,000 punches daily for 1,000 consecutive days"
Progress: "999 / 1000"
"Almost there!"
"Just one more day!"
Hawk stared at the progress bar on the system panel, heart racing. He wished time could fast-forward to tomorrow.
His cheat system had appeared on September 10, 2009 — the same day as the Hulk vs. Abomination battle in New York City.
He remembered it vividly.
And from the very first day the system appeared—
He started training.
No slacking.
Because let's be honest—
He had landed in a world where "superheroes are everywhere, superhumans are dime a dozen, and cosmic beings are partying across galaxies."
Before the system?
He could lie down and accept fate.
But now that he had a cheat?
Lie down?
That would be a waste of the cheat!
So—
From the very first day the system activated, Hawk had kept up his daily 10,000 punches.
Not a single day missed.
Rain or shine.
No excuses.
In short—
Food? Optional.
Punches? Mandatory.
Now—
After 999 straight days—
He was finally about to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
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