"Heh!"
"Go back?"
"I stormed all the way from New York to New Mexico, dug up the Ross family's graveyard, and then sped all the way here."
"You think I came here for fun?"
"You think I've got nothing better to do?"
"This war was started by them, not me."
"When the war begins, they decide. But when it ends, that's not up to them. That's up to me."
Hawk's laughter cut off abruptly. His icy gaze swept over the group of men in suits and uniforms crowding near the doorway, the so-called big shots.
Normally, these people should have been majestic and commanding.
But right now…
They were terrified.
They were restless.
Heh.
You only realize the snot's dripping once it hits your mouth.
You only swerve once your car hits the wall.
You only regret when the knife is already at your throat.
But this isn't regret.
This is knowing you're about to die.
Hawk took in their ugly appearances with cold amusement before turning his gaze back to Maria Hill standing in front of him.
"There are only two possible endings here."
"…May I hear them?"
"Of course."
Hawk smiled slightly.
Compared to the pitiful big shots groveling in the corner, his impression of Maria Hill—who stood unflinching even under Abomination's oppressive aura—wasn't too bad.
Hawk looked at her, his voice calm and eerie, utterly devoid of emotion.
"Since I'm already here, killing one is killing, killing two is still killing. Killing five hundred, five thousand, even fifty thousand—it's just a matter of numbers."
"…"
Maria Hill's limbs chilled at those words, her heart sinking.
Hawk continued.
"After killing everyone here, I'll move on to the Pentagon. Once that's done, I'll go to the White House. In short, they started this war—so there can only be one victor. Either they kill me, or I kill them."
"Ms. Hill."
Hawk's smile returned as he asked softly, "What do you think of that ending?"
His gaze once again swept toward the big shots stuck at the doorway, frozen in place, unable to move forward or back.
His words hadn't been loud, but not soft either—just enough for all of them to hear clearly.
So…
They froze.
They collapsed.
They begged.
Before death, all are equal. At this moment, these once-dignified men sat on the ground, snot and tears streaming down their faces, pleading as Hawk's gaze swept over them.
Their words amounted to two points:
The attack on him had been Ross's doing alone—it had nothing to do with them.
And they begged Hawk to spare them, promising he'd never see them again.
Hawk said nothing, instead watching their disgusting display with interest.
He had no doubt—at this moment, if survival meant offering up their elegant wives to his bed, they would do it without hesitation.
After all…
A glossy surface, corruption beneath.
That's the Federation.
That's capital.
Perfectly normal.
As Hawk savored their pitiful state, Maria Hill finally spoke again, breaking free from her shock.
"And the second ending?"
"What second ending?"
Hawk looked at her, feigning surprise. "I suddenly realized I don't really like that one. I think this ending works just fine."
Maria Hill held his mocking gaze.
"May I hear it anyway?"
"…Fine."
Hawk thought for a moment, shrugged, then said, "When a war ends, the victor can demand reparations from the loser."
As soon as the words left his mouth…
Even before Maria Hill could respond, the big shots' eyes lit up.
"Reparations!"
"We'll pay!"
"No matter how much!"
"Shut up!"
Hawk's icy glare swept over the noisy, groveling crowd.
At once, they trembled like quails.
Hawk sneered, then turned back to Maria Hill. "But I don't want that ending anymore."
Her brows furrowed.
"Why?"
"I don't like it."
He shrugged. "After today, I doubt I'll stay in the Federation. Since I'm leaving anyway, why keep them around? Better to finish it once and for all—wipe them all out, clean out the Pentagon, and while I'm at it, kill that guy in the White House too. I don't like him either."
His tone was casual.
But Maria Hill's heart pounded.
Because…
There wasn't a hint of joking in his face.
Clearly, Hawk meant every word.
As he turned to walk toward the big shots, Hill's face paled.
Then she sucked in a sharp breath, rushed forward, and spread her arms in front of them like a mother hen shielding her chicks.
"Wait, Hawk!"
"…"
His brow arched as he looked at her.
Maria Hill's voice was hurried.
"This won't reach the outside world."
"Really?"
"Yes."
She nodded firmly.
And it was true.
Though Quantico had just been engulfed in battle, few knew the details.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had intervened at once, cutting all signals and communications.
So apart from locals, the Pentagon, the White House, and S.H.I.E.L.D. itself, no one else knew what had happened.
To the people in D.C., today was just another ordinary holiday.
Hawk pondered her words, then shook his head.
"Not enough."
"Reparations," Hill pressed. "You said it yourself—this was war. They lost, so they pay."
His eyes slid past her to the trembling men behind.
Their eyes darted away in fear.
Clearly, they were terrified now.
After a pause, Hawk smiled faintly.
"How much?"
"How much do you want?"
"Heh."
He scoffed. "I want a trillion. Can they afford that?"
Hill's mouth twitched.
Hawk shook his head. His tone was flat.
"One million."
"?"
"Each!"
"…"
Maria Hill turned her head to look at the thirty-plus men trembling like quails behind her.
Ten minutes later.
Hawk glanced at the tablet Maria Hill handed him, showing his updated Stark Bank account balance.
He looked at the big shots staring at him with desperate, pleading eyes after wiring the money.
"Get out!"
"Yes!"
"We're going, we're going!"
"Move, move!"
"Thank you, thank you!"
In the blink of an eye, thirty-three men shoved and stumbled over each other, scrambling out of sight.
Soon…
The massive military base was empty save for two people.
Hawk handed the tablet back to Hill.
She hesitated, then asked, "You never planned on killing them, did you?"
"…."
Hawk slid his hand back into his pocket, chuckled lightly, and said nothing.
"You should go."
"What about you?"
"I'll stay here for one hour."
His tone was calm as his gaze flicked toward the surveillance cameras by the entrance. "In that hour, you're free to throw whatever weapons you can muster at me. Of course, everything has a price—if you can pay it. If you don't move within that hour, then don't blame me for not warning you: stay away from me from now on. If it happens again, I'll flatten Washington D.C."
With that, he glanced at Hill. "You can go too, Ms. Hill. Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to try in that hour as well, since you're already here."
Maria Hill shook her head quickly. "This is an internal Federal matter. S.H.I.E.L.D. only handles world peace."
Hawk chuckled, closed his eyes, and said no more.
Seeing that, she turned and ran toward the nearby S.H.I.E.L.D. jet.
By the time she was boarding, she was already on the phone with the Pentagon.
As the aircraft lifted into the sky, the enormous Quantico base truly fell silent, devoid of people.
The sun set in flames, wreckage and rubble scattered across the charred battlefield.
Hawk stood amidst the ruins, hands in his pockets, eyes shut in meditation.
Apart from the crackling of fire, the base was utterly silent. Soldiers outside the perimeter watched with bated breath.
Time ticked by.
The quiet stretched on.
Before long, the hour had passed.
Then—
"Ring ring ring!"
A phone on the ground before Hawk began ringing.
He opened his eyes, bent down, and picked it up.
"Hello."
"Hawk."
Gwen's gentle voice flowed from the other end.
"As always, busy?"
"…Almost done."
"Then hurry home. Don't forget, tomorrow we're practicing driving."
"Alright."
"Good. I'll be waiting for you in New York!"
"…Okay."
"…"
(End of Chapter)
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