“Hawk!
What the fuck are you trying to do?!
There…” At that moment, Hawk slowly turned to face Nick Fury, an ice-cold smile spreading across his handsome face.
His voice was clear and calm, with a chilling, ceremonial edge as it carried across the cold night terrace: “Because, Director Fury…” Hawk’s gaze settled directly on the panicked members of the Bates family as they were about to board the helicopter.
“…Art is an explosion.” The instant the words left his mouth, BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A tremendous roar erupted!
Atop Bates Capital Tower, the luxury helicopter and the surrounding helipad were completely swallowed by a rapidly expanding, blinding orange-red fireball and churning black smoke!
The blast wave instantly shattered every pane of reinforced glass on the top floor, sending shards flying into the sky like deadly hail, glittering with reflected light from the moon and the lamps below.
Even the ground beneath their feet trembled, and the top of the building visibly buckled and warped!
The blast hammered Fury’s eardrums!
He staggered back a step, his one eye locked on the top of Bates Capital Tower, his pupil dilated in shock, his face a mix of disbelief, rage, and humiliation at being so openly provoked.
He could not believe it!
This well-dressed, well-spoken young man, this darling of Wall Street, had just blown up the top floor of a skyscraper right in front of him, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., with a lighthearted yet utterly arrogant remark!
And this was a target under S.H.I.E.L.D.
protection!
This was no longer a battle in the financial world; this was outright terrorism and murder!
Right under his nose!
“You…
you lunatic!” Fury’s voice was hoarse with rage as he instinctively reached for the sidearm at his waist.
Hawk stayed where he was, the cold smile on his face unchanged, as if he had just enjoyed not a destructive blast that had cost more than a dozen lives, but a true artistic performance.
His voice was terrifyingly steady: “The Bates script ends here.
Their greed, their stupidity, and the hidden dangers they left behind have all been wiped out in this ‘curtain call performance.’ Please pass on a message to former Director Alexander Pierce for me: You’re welcome.” He gracefully adjusted his suit cuffs, as if he had merely flicked away a speck of dust.
“As for the two girls you care about,” Hawk’s gaze refocused on Fury’s face twisted with rage, carrying an unmistakable warning, “they’re my assets now.
Your agency doesn’t need to concern itself with them.
Any attempt to disturb their peaceful lives, or rather, to interfere with my ongoing work, will cause scenes with far more ‘artistic impact’ than the little fireworks display you just witnessed.” “This meeting is over.” Hawk gave a slight nod, ignored Fury’s glare, which looked ready to spit fire, and turned to leave.
As he walked out of the cafe, Hawk looked completely calm, like a gentleman who had just enjoyed a grand opera, vanishing into the panicked crowd below Bates Capital Tower.
In truth, Andy had not been fully on board with Hawk’s move at first; she thought it was too ruthless and even lectured him on the Buddhist idea of karma, but Hawk promptly shut her down.
This was no longer just a business war.
The Bates family had crossed the line first by hiring the Witch Project’s Clay Doll Squad to wipe out the entire Lane Group, Andy included.
Hawk had merely given them a taste of their own medicine.
What was wrong with that?
Hawk retorted, “You say I’m guilty?
Come on, say it while looking into my eyes!
Heat Ray warning!” In the end, Hawk won Andy over in his own special way and helped her let go of her guilt.
And blowing them sky high was Eun-bi’s pledge of loyalty.
Getting onto the roof of Bates Capital Tower to plant explosives under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s heavy protection was extremely difficult, but Eun-bi was the captain of the Clay Doll Squad, a Tier 1 witch in the Witch Project second only to Koo Ziyun, Shin Si-ah, and the Young Master.
With her superhuman body, powerful regeneration, and strong telekinesis, she stood out even among other superhumans, and combined with her professional military and espionage training, this kind of work was right up her alley.
In that moment, Nick Fury, the king of spies who had weathered countless storms, faced a truly troublesome young and dangerous opponent for the first time.
The declaration “Art is an explosion” echoed in his ears for a moment before being carried off by the wind.
But what interested him more was the message Hawk wanted him to pass to Pierce: “You’re welcome!” What did it mean?
Simple provocation?
Or did Hawk know something more?
He sighed, thinking of his Avengers Initiative, which he had been planning for years.
“We need to pick up the pace!” Natasha, standing behind him, was thoroughly shocked as well.
To do something like that right in front of Nick Fury was sheer madness.
Bang!
This wasn’t the sound of the explosion.
It was the sharp crack of ice shattering deep in her heart.
This madness was like a meteor crashing into still water, punching straight through the layer of rational ice Natasha had depended on to survive.
She had faced countless life-and-death situations and seen every kind of madness, but Hawk’s madness was different.
It came wrapped in the tailored suit of a Wall Street elite, spoke in polished, proper language, and struck with meticulous precision.
It had a fatal pull on her, like one apex predator drawn to another, stronger and more unpredictable.
*Damn it…* Natasha cursed inwardly, forcing her gaze back to the thick smoke still billowing from the top of Bates Capital Tower in the distance.
But that madness still ran up her spine like a cold electric current, sending a nearly paralyzing shiver through her.
She…
was excited.
The excitement was faint, buried beneath cold reason, yet she felt it clearly.
Like the deadliest virus: the moment you became aware of it, the infection had already taken hold.
That whispered “the door is always open” was no longer just a probe testing the limits of her will.
It felt more like an invitation to the abyss.