Palm Village is located in the East
Village, Manhattan.
This is the heart of Manhattan, where land is scarce and expensive.
Before the Battle of New York, this detached mansion, with a usable area of 6,000 square feet, custom-made floor-to-ceiling windows, high-end building materials, and a Stark smart home system, would have been priced around $20 million.
So $12 million.
Not expensive!
With Hawke's "swipe card," the real estate agent felt her soul almost leave her body.
Gwen, who was still imagining a snowy scene next year with a fireplace, also snapped back to reality, staring wide-eyed at Hawke as the agent took his bank card.
Hawke's expression was calm.
Just as he had said before.
After awakening his inner power, money was no longer a necessity for him; if he wanted, it was merely a number.
Power (fist) equals money.
This is the ultimate truth!
Similarly, lured by the high brokerage fee, the female agent confidently assured Hawke that the property transfer would be completed within three hours.
Soon enough, she sped off in her Porsche to the housing authority.
Hawke followed Gwen back into the room.
And then he was pinned against the wall by Gwen.
Hawke, his back against the wall, stared blankly at Gwen, who was bracing herself against it, her eyes unblinking.
"What's wrong?"
"Hawk!"
"Hmm?"
Gwen's pretty face was serious: "What exactly did you do in Quantico?"
Hawke chuckled instantly: "I thought you wouldn't ask."
Half a month had passed since the Quantico incident, and during that time, Hawke had considered that Gwen might ask him what he had been doing there.
But Gwen hadn't asked.
Hawke wasn't a gossip, so he hadn't brought it up since Gwen hadn't asked.
He had originally thought Gwen would never ask.
Unexpectedly Gwen withdrew her hands and shrugged.
"I wasn't planning on asking, but it's obvious I have to."
Although she already knew Hawke had a million dollars before he went to Quantico,she knew exactly where that million dollars came from .
She could barely accept the two million dollars donated by the church.
But this twelve million?
She didn't dare to think about it.
Absolutely not.
Even if her father, George, worked for the NYPD for a hundred years, his salary and bonuses probably wouldn't be enough.
So the answer was obvious.
Hawke didn't have that much money before going to Quantico, but he did after returning. Therefore, this money could only have been earned by Hawke while he was in Quantico.
So what exactly happened in Quantico?
Gwen didn't actually know what had happened in Quantico the day Hawk went there.
The woman named Natasha hadn't told her, only that she'd found Hawk.
But just in case, Gwen hadn't said much on the phone, only telling Hawk to go home early.
Afterwards, Natasha gave her an address, but by the time Gwen arrived at the airport, Natasha was already gone, without telling her what had happened.
Gwen didn't pay much attention at first.
She thought she'd find out in the news in a few days, so she kept a close eye on the news reports, especially those from the Washington D.C. area.
The result everything was peaceful and prosperous.
There wasn't a single news item related to Quantico.
She initially thought the lack of reports meant there had only been a minor altercation.
But now Hawk had pulled out twelve million without batting an eye?
This couldn't be a minor altercation.
Gwen thought to herself, then stared wide-eyed at Hawk.
"What did you do that day? How did they give you so much money?"
"Uh"
Hawk opened his mouth.
Just as he was about to speak, Gwen suddenly raised an eyebrow, stopping Hawke.
She took a few steps back, looked at Hawke, and frowned.
"You robbed the base's vault?"
"How could that be?"
Hawke denied decisively.
"Even if I robbed the vault, it was cash. Would I just openly put it in my bank account?" "
I only blew up their vault.
That's all.
Gwen nodded subconsciously.
"Then you"
"War reparations."
"What?"
"They started the war, and to make me back down, they had to give me a way out. This money is the war reparations they paid."
"Hiss!"
Gwen gasped, staring at Hawke in shock, only four words echoing in her mind:
War reparations.
"How much did they pay you?"
"Thirty-three million."
"What!"
Gwen's eyes widened, her voice cracking.
"So much?"
"Is it a lot?"
Hawke chuckled.
"One million each, thirty-three people would be thirty-three million. I feel like I asked for too little."
He should have just bid one trillion.
Hawke regretted it a little.
But then he thought better of it.
What did he need so much money for? Thirty-three million, minus the fourteen million he spent today, he still had sixteen million dollars left.
That was enough for him—no, enough for his and Gwen's daily expenses.
That was enough.
Compared to money, Hawke preferred boxing.
In short,as long as the fist is there, the money is there.
Hawke thought to himself, then looked at Gwen, whose mouth was slightly agape in shock, and smiled, saying, "I should thank Ross."
Gwen snapped out of her daze and looked at Hawke with some suspicion.
"Why?"
"If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have had the chance to get this war reparations."
One thing at a time.
Hawke was happy that Thaddeus Ross gave him this opportunity to earn war reparations, but he was very unhappy about what Ross had done.
So he died, and even the family cemetery was desecrated by Hawke.
But there was no need to tell Gwen about this.
Gwen was kind-hearted and couldn't bear to hear about these things.
Hawke smiled, changed the subject, and took Gwen's hand.
"Let's go."
"Where to?"
"The agent was here, so I didn't look around properly. Let's take a good look at our house."
"I like the walk-in closet in the master bedroom."
"Don't you need to make any changes?"
"No."
Gwen shook her head, glancing at Hawke out of the corner of her eye.
She knew Hawke was changing the subject.
She understood Hawke, and she understood the Federal military.
To obtain war reparations from the Federal military, it was clear that something very significant must have happened in Quantico that day.
That's why the news was so tightly controlled.
But at least Hawke is alright.
Gwen thought to herself, and as she followed Hawke up the stairs, her left hand, which Hawke was holding, tightened instinctively.
Hawke felt the change in the pressure of Gwen's small hand and glanced at her.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Gwen smiled slightly, a bright smile that seemed to illuminate the entire room instantly.
But where there is laughter, there is tears!
Betty Ross was crying.
Although ten days had passed since Thaddeus Ross's burial, Betty Ross, who had already cried countless times, was still crying in the townhouse in Washington, D.C.
One second she was happy about getting back together with her ex-boyfriend Bruce Banner.
The next second someone told her that her father was dead.
And decapitated.
Most importantly, she still didn't know the true cause of her father's death.
The answer was a military accident.
A damn military accident.
Her father was clearly murdered, and in an extremely cruel and violent way.
Betty Ross wasn't stupid; she was a scientist.
The moment she saw her father's body, the method of his death flashed through her mind.
Someone had stomped on her father's skull, crushing it.
Now the question was:who did it?
Since her father's burial, Betty Ross had been relentlessly questioning his close friends.
But all of them remained silent, clearly stating that her father's death was a military accident.
Just as Betty Ross was about to go crazy, one of the friends who had made the call sighed and said he would come to her house after work.
In the living room,Betty looked at her father's photo on her phone, silently vowing to make the murderer who killed her father die.
No matter who it was.
The hatred for her father's killer was irreconcilable.
Just then,the doorbell rang.
Betty snapped out of her daze, wiping her eyes, which were already red and swollen from crying for days. She quickly ran to the front door and opened it.
What she saw...
"Oh, Betty."
Nick Fury, who appeared in the doorway, looked at Betty, who looked haggard and had red, swollen eyes.
His voice was filled with empathy and sorrow: "You should pull yourself together. This is definitely what Ross would want to see."
Betty closed the door and looked at Nick Fury: "I will, Mr. Fury, after you told me who killed my father."
Upon hearing this, Nick Fury couldn't help but sigh.
"The Quantico case is classified as top secret."
"I know."
Betty invited Nick Fury to sit on the sofa, brought him a glass of lemonade, and sat down beside him, gritting her teeth.
"Nobody at the Pentagon is willing to tell me the truth, but Mr. Fury, I should know the truth. That's my dad."
Nick Fury shook his head with a wry smile, then looked at the empty living room. "Isn't Bruce here?"
"He went out to buy something,"
Betty said, thinking Nick Fury was changing the subject, so she continued to stare at him intently after speaking.
"Mr. Fury, who is the killer?"
"The killer is…"
Nick Fury paused slightly, looking at Betty who was still gritting her teeth, a hint of struggle flashing across his face.
Seeing this, Betty didn't hesitate, and with a thud, knelt directly in front of Nick Fury.
"Mr. Fury, please, only you are willing to tell me who the killer is now."
"Get up."
The moment Betty knelt down, Nick Fury quickly got up from the sofa and helped her to her feet.
But Betty remained kneeling on the ground,her voice trembling with grief.
"Mr. Fury, please, tell me who the killer is."
"You..."
Nick Fury's dark expression shifted.
The next second,a long sigh escaped his lips.
"Sigh"
"..."
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