"Gwen, where are you?"
"I just came from Hawke's house."
"Oh..."
"Don't get me wrong, the city urged Hawke yesterday to mow his lawn, or he'd be fined. He doesn't know how, so I went over this morning to teach him."
Gwen, driving away from the Palms neighborhood, was on the phone with Mary, whom she had arranged to go shopping with that afternoon.
Mary chuckled upon hearing this.
"Our neighborhood has lawnmowers, doesn't a high-end neighborhood like Palms Street have them?"
"Yes, but he doesn't want to."
"Why?"
"He'd rather save where he can and spend where he can."
Gwen, driving, repeated Hawke's words.
Mary on the other end of the line was somewhat taken aback.
But Mary quickly recalled Hawke's life during his school days—wearing only three sets of clothes, communicating mainly by shouting, and walking mainly on foot, living a life not unlike an ascetic—and realized that Hawke's statement was quite reasonable.
However, discussing Hawke's ability to buy a villa but not to hire a caretaker wasn't the main topic of their conversation.
Mary quickly steered the conversation back on track: "When are you coming? Maybe I should go to Mrs. Neuer's dessert shop and grab a table."
Gwen immediately replied, "Sure, I'll be there in about half an hour."
She loved hot cocoa.
And Gwen felt that the hot cocoa at Mrs. Neuer's dessert shop, which Mary mentioned, was the best in all of Queens—no, in all of New York City.
Soon,after hanging up the phone, Gwen, thinking about the hot cocoa at Mrs. Neuer's dessert shop, unconsciously stepped on the gas.
Her yellow Corolla sped off towards Queens.
Behind the yellow Corolla, an unremarkable Toyota, seeing this, also accelerated.
"She spotted us?"
"Impossible, it hasn't been long, and it's a straight road."
"Then why did she suddenly speed up?"
"Who cares? According to the plan, after crossing the bridge and entering Queens, we'll intercept them depending on the situation."
"Remember, the employer wants them alive. One million for a living person, five hundred thousand for a dead one. Don't lose the dollars."
"Understood!"
"Understood!"
The two black men in the back seat of the unremarkable Toyota nodded, their eyes filled with greed as they looked at the yellow Corolla driving ahead.
But the "understood" just now didn't come from these two men.
The two different voices saying "understood" came from the walkie-talkie in the hand of the bearded man in the passenger seat.
Clearly,this group didn't only have one car, but three.
Sure enough.
As Gwen was about to enter the Manhattan Bridge in her yellow Corolla, two equally unremarkable Toyotas came from the left and right roads respectively.
Once on the bridge, the three cars, following the flow of traffic, subtly shifted positions, forming a triangular formation that surrounded Gwen's yellow Corolla.
A while later, as Gwen descended the bridge and turned onto the road leading to Mary's house, a Toyota on her left suddenly changed lanes, but seemingly lacking proper distance control, accidentally bumped into Gwen's car with a loud bang.
Gwen was startled and slammed on the brakes.
The Toyota that had changed lanes stopped, while the other two Toyotas continued driving forward at their original speed.
A middle-aged woman got out of the Toyota that had changed lanes, looked at Gwen inside, and apologized.
Gwen opened the car door and got out as well, looking at the spot where she had been hit, and sighed.
Just as she was about to turn around and get her phone to tell Mary she might be late, the middle-aged woman stopped Gwen, stating that it was entirely her fault and that she could move the car to a place where it wouldn't obstruct traffic while she contacted her insurance company.
Distracted by the middle-aged woman's readily admitting responsibility, Gwen thought for a moment and agreed.
After all, if calling the traffic police wasn't necessary, it would be quick.
Quickly.
Gwen followed the middle-aged woman ahead and drove onto a side road where it wouldn't obstruct traffic.
But just as she was about to turn off the engine and get out, with a screeching sound of tires rubbing against the pavement, a Toyota suddenly sped up behind her, blocking her path.
"This is..."
"Shit!"
Gwen was startled at first, then a bad premonition washed over her.
Robbery or kidnapping?
But despite her thoughts, Gwen quickly pressed the lock button, and just as she was about to grab her phone to call the police,bang!
Another loud crash rang out.
Gwen was startled again, as were the four men wearing cartoon headgear who got out of the Toyota behind her.
The four men instinctively turned their heads to look.
What they saw.
A black Audi A8, seemingly recently purchased and gleaming coldly in the sunlight, crashed into the rear of their Toyota.
Immediately afterward,Hawke, wearing a black fitted T-shirt, opened the car door and stepped out.
The four masked men exchanged glances, then simultaneously drew their pistols and pointed them at Hawke.
"Fuck!"
"Die!"
"Bang, bang, bang, bang!"
Four bullets flew out of the barrels, striking Hawke's face, chest, and right arm in the blink of an eye.
And then nothing more.
With four metallic clangs, the four bullets, flattened upon impact with Hawke's body, clattered to the ground.
Hawke glanced down at the fallen bullets.
The next second.
Hawke vanished from his spot in the blink of an eye, appearing in front of a hooded man.
The moment his right hand rose, his movement paused almost imperceptibly.
Then, his left hand shot out, twisting the hooded man's head with both hands.
*Crack.*
The crisp sound of skull twisting and dislocating echoed through the alley.
The other hooded man quickly regained his senses.
"Ah..."
"Crack!"
He followed in his brother's footsteps.
Of course,the other two were no exception.
From Hawke getting out of the car to the four hooded robbers with dislocated heads falling to the ground, almost everything happened within three breaths.
By the time Gwen reacted, Hawke was already directly in front of the car.
The engine of the Toyota in front roared wildly.
The two rear-wheel-drive tires kept rubbing against the ground.
Dust billowed up, but the car didn't move.
Hawke gripped the trunk of the Toyota with one hand, his four fingers as if they were piercing through tofu, his arm muscles not tense at all, still firmly holding the Toyota.
"Fuck!"
"Start!"
"Hurry up!"
The middle-aged woman inside the Toyota roared as if she were flooring the accelerator.
Hawke raised an eyebrow and released his right hand.
The next second.
Boom!
Like a burnout, the Toyota shot off like a meteor the moment Hawke released his right hand, then crashed into a wall not far away with a loud bang, the airbags deploying instantly.
The middle-aged woman, who had no time to react, was instantly knocked unconscious by the airbags.
The moment Hawke released his right hand, he had already turned around and gone to the driver's side door of the Corolla, knocking on the window.
Gwen, who was holding the phone inside, heard the knocking, stared blankly at Hawke outside the door, and subconsciously opened the window.
"Hey, Gwen? Have you arrived? I've ordered your favorite hot cocoa for you."
Mary Jane's voice came from the phone in Gwen's hand.
But Gwen seemed stunned, staring blankly at Hawke.
After all, most of the fight between Hawk and Hulk took place underwater, and by the time Hawk reappeared, the outcome was already decided.
But this time, she witnessed the entire process firsthand.
Her mind was still replaying the image of Hawk's cold, icy car, ignoring bullets hitting him, appearing in front of the four robbers in the blink of an eye, snapping them in half with a snap, and pulling the car at full speed with his bare hands.
Gwen was stunned, but Hawk wasn't.
He looked at Gwen, who was sitting in the car staring blankly at him, smiled, and reached out to take the phone from her hand.
"Hello, Mary."
"Hawk?"
"Gwen has something to do. Get her some hot cocoa."
"Wh"
Hawk ignored Mary and hung up the phone, then seemed to remember something and looked thoughtfully at Gwen: "So, hot cocoa? Didn't you say you didn't like it?"
Gwen instantly snapped back to reality.
"Hawk?"
"Hmm."
Hawk chuckled.
"Has the sheriff's daughter become less vigilant? Or is it because she's been eyeing the hot cocoa?"
Gwen blushed at Hawk's teasing, remaining silent before hurriedly opening the car door and getting out.
"There's another car."
"What?"
"There were three Toyotas in total, but only two are here."
Having lost the temptation of the hot cocoa, Gwen, recalling the scene on the Manhattan Bridge and the three Toyotas that had followed her—one on each side and one behind—quickly said, "There were three Toyotas following me."
However, she would never admit that her decreased vigilance was due to her longing for Mrs. Neuer's dessert shop's hot cocoa.
Thinking this, Gwen looked at Hawk with a serious expression: "Also, I don't like hot cocoa. I'm eighteen."
Hawk smiled.
"But I heard Helen say that when you were little, your biggest dream was to live in a chocolate house…"
"Shut up."
Gwen's brow twitched, and she quickly interrupted Hawke, changing the subject back to the third car.
"There's a third car."
"They got away."
Hawke smiled slightly, then looked at Gwen, who was slightly taken aback, and added, "Don't worry, they can't get away."
Gwen blinked.
Just as she was pondering the meaning of Hawke's words, "They got away, they can't get away,"a voice, symbolizing the arrival of justice, came from afar.
It grew closer and closer.
"Waaaa, waaaa, waaaa!"
"Thump, thump!"
"Honey shit!"
"Don't move, hands up, now, immediately!"
"…"
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