What is New York City like in the dead of night?
Manhattan, glittering with lights?
Brooklyn, brightly lit?
Queens, silent as a tomb?
Although most New Yorkers maintain the habit of returning home as soon as night falls, New York City, as an international metropolis, also has its unique nightlife.
Demons dance wildly in bars across Manhattan.
On the empty streets, street racers speed by in their vehicles.
On the road near Morningside Park.
A luxury car pulled over to the side of the street. Not far away, a provocatively dressed woman stood under a streetlamp, smiling charmingly. She swayed her hips and got into the car, and before the car even started moving, she had already instinctively bent down.
In a nearby alley, three young Black men, out for a 'hunt' or, as they called it, a robbery, lay dead, eyes wide open in disbelief.
Thump!
The fourth one had just run off, but seeing his companions instantly killed, he loyally ran back, thinking he could counter-attack. This young Black man also followed in his companions' footsteps, falling onto the sewage-filled ground with them.
Sewage splashed.
Just as the sewage was about to splash onto Hawk, he took a step forward, instantly appearing at the alley's exit. He then twitched his nose and walked across the road without stopping.
Across the road was a six-story building with a mottled exterior.
Standing downstairs, Hawk looked up, then fixed his gaze on a window on the third floor, to the left.
The conversation of three people inside was clearly audible.
"Shit, fuck, shit!"
"Stop cursing. I just found out, Roy is dead."
"…Really?"
"Yes, dead, has to be dead, can't not be dead. If she's saved and finds out her husband died, she'll definitely sell us out."
"Yeah."
"So what do we do now?"
"What else? Why don't we just find an opportunity to ambush them? We'd still get five hundred thousand, enough for the three of us to split."
"Are you crazy? Why take five hundred thousand when we can get a million?"
"You're the crazy one! In this situation, how are we going to get a million?"
"…"
Hawk listened to the three people in the room discussing in hushed voices, a slight smile playing on his lips.
Found them!
Hawk smiled faintly, then glanced at the drooping surveillance camera not far away. He walked expressionlessly into the six-story apartment building in front of him, then took the stairs directly to the third floor, finally stopping in front of a door.
The next second.
He pushed the door!
Thump!
The deadbolt inside snapped, and the door instantly opened from the outside.
The three people inside, who were talking, smoking, and drinking while discussing their next move, were startled by the sound of the door opening. They instinctively stood up from the sofa and looked at Hawk as he pushed the door open.
And then…
There was no 'then'.
The heads of two men, one Black and one White, were separated from their bodies, their headless corpses lying on the floor, gushing blood.
The smell of blood instantly spread.
The sole survivor, now slumped on the ground, stared in horror at the heads rolling on the floor, still bearing expressions of shock.
He was trembling with fear, forgetting to scream, and forgetting to control his bladder.
A trickling sound was very clear in the otherwise silent room.
Hawk glanced at the White man slumped on the ground, his face deathly pale.
"Hold it in!"
"Hiss!"
The trickling sound instantly vanished.
The White man tremblingly looked up at Hawk, his pale, bloodless lips quivering.
"Don't… don't kill me."
"Name."
Hawk, while wiping his hands with a towel, glanced expressionlessly at the White man: "Who hired you?"
At these words.
The White man, whose brain was still somewhat muddled, jolted and reacted.
The next second.
A thought appeared in his mind.
"Can't say!"
"If I don't say, I have a chance to live."
"But if I say, I'm dead for sure."
The White man was just a criminal, not an idiot.
As a criminal, no one understood better than him what the fate of a person who loses their value would be.
Now that his two companions were dead, his value became very important.
So…
As thoughts raced through his mind, the White man took a deep breath. His face was no longer pale, his legs no longer trembled, and with newfound confidence came courage.
Hawk looked at the White man, who had been trembling a second ago but was now daring to look him directly in the eye and push himself up from the floor. His expression was a little surprised.
The White man stared at Hawk, sneering.
"You want to know who hired me? Fine, let me go, and I'll…"
"Pfft!"
The White man, who hadn't finished speaking, suddenly felt the world spin. Immediately after, he saw a miraculous sight.
A headless corpse standing on the floor, gushing blood.
Wait a minute.
Why did those clothes look so familiar?
Just as a thought flashed through the White man's mind, an immense pain instantly flooded his brain. Immediately after, boundless darkness swallowed him.
Thump!
The headless corpse softly fell to the ground with a thud.
Hawk looked at the headless corpse and shook his head, somewhat speechless.
An idiot so stupid he could be in a museum.
One hour later.
Hawk returned to his home on Palm Street.
In the living room.
Hawk took out the second phone Gwen had given him after Quantico, made a call, and simultaneously looked at a driver's license in his hand.
Daven Simmons.
It was the driver's license of that very idiot who was so stupid he could be in a museum, who had just thought he had the right and ability to negotiate with him.
The call quickly connected.
Anna's voice, tinged with a hint of surprise, came from the other end.
"Hawk!"
"Good evening, Anna. I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"Good morning."
Anna, dressed in a lace nightgown, was in a manor in Paris. She pulled open the bedroom curtains and said with a smile, "It's seven in the morning here in Paris."
Hawk understood, then got straight to the point without any wasted words.
"Help me look up a person. Mainly check his bank account to see if there's a hundred thousand U.S. dollars. If there is, help me check the remitter's information."
"No problem. Do you have a name?"
"Daven Simmons, from New York."
Hawk reported the name on the driver's license in his hand.
If this Daven Simmons had said a little less in the room just now, Hawk probably wouldn't have killed him.
But then again, when Hawk was downstairs, he had already heard this Daven Simmons mention that the employer behind them had already provided a hundred thousand U.S. dollars for the operation.
A prepayment was all he needed.
It didn't matter if Daven Simmons didn't speak. Hawk just needed to find out who remitted the money to Daven.
Anna, in Paris, wrote down the name with a pen and responded.
"No problem, I'll arrange for someone to check. When do you need it?"
"As soon as possible."
"Alright, I'll notify you as soon as I have news."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Anna smiled, and after Hawk hung up, she finally hung up her own phone.
After Quantico, the organization had made Hawk an exception, a target to be actively courted, and because she was the first to contact Hawk, her status had risen accordingly.
Just yesterday, she was wondering what excuse to use to contact Hawk.
After all, relationships.
Only with contact can a relationship be maintained. Over time, without contact, even the best relationships will fade.
But then…
While she was still worrying about how to contact Hawk, he contacted her first.
This was good.
Anna thought to herself, then glanced at Daven Simmons' name on the handwritten paper, picked up her phone again, and made a call.
Since Hawk trusted her so much, she couldn't disappoint him.
The next day.
Hawk returned to school by school bus.
Gwen did not come.
The kidnapping case had only happened yesterday. Not only Gwen, but even Gwen's two younger brothers had taken leave from school and were temporarily staying at home.
After all, until this kidnapping case was resolved and the reason found, it was safer to stay at home.
When Gwen called in the morning to tell Hawk not to pick her up, she also mentioned that George had spent the entire night at the Queens Precinct, busy with this attempted kidnapping case.
But Gwen didn't come, someone else did.
Mary Jane.
Mary, who seemed to have been waiting in the parking lot for a long time, saw Hawk get off the school bus, her eyes lit up, and she pulled Peter along as she ran up to him.
Mary's eyes sparkled with gossip. She lowered her voice and rattled off a string of questions: "Hawk, what happened? A kidnapping? Is it real or fake? Who did it? Do you know?"
Hawk was stunned by this machine-gun-like barrage of questions. He then looked at Peter, not speaking, but his meaning was clear.
Your girlfriend, control her quickly.
Peter smiled apologetically.
His meaning was also very simple.
Between him and Mary, Mary made the decisions for minor matters, and he made the decisions for major matters, but whether it was a major matter was determined by Mary.
It's over.
The Spider-Woman has completely become a house spider.
Hawk thought to himself. There was no other way, he had to step in. He said curiously to Mary, "Didn't you and Peter take leave at the start of school? Don't you have to work today?"
Right at the start of school, Mary and Peter had taken leave.
Mary went to work at a restaurant.
Peter returned to the Daily Bugle, earning prize money from his self-portraits to save for his future college living expenses.
Mary rolled her eyes: "With something so big happening to Gwen, of course we had to come."
Hawk nodded, then quickly answered Mary's previous questions: "Alright, attempted kidnapping. The person hasn't been found yet. Gwen is staying at home for now. Anything else?"
Mary shook her head.
Hawk smiled faintly: "Alright, then I'll go find the counselor first."
He didn't care anymore.
He would take leave first, and after resolving Gwen's kidnapping case, he would go directly to Africa.
Hawk's request for leave met no resistance. The counselor readily agreed to Hawk's leave.
With enough credits and a university acceptance, it was highly unlikely for a counselor to refuse.
Moreover…
Good news wasn't limited to Hawk's successful leave.
Just as Hawk came out of the counselor's office, his phone chimed.
It was from Anna.
Hawk opened the message, looked at the name Anna had sent, and as his eyebrows raised, a thought came to his mind.
Cut the weeds and remove the roots.
Otherwise…
They will grow again with the spring breeze!
…
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