Marvel: The Enlightened One-Chapter 82: [] - Money Falls Silent (Bonus)

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Buildings were coming down everywhere.

Across the entire Quantico base—black streaks of energy carved through structure after structure, sending concrete and steel crashing to the ground.

In the family housing district, screams echoed as men and women scattered in panic. The sky itself seemed to weep, the fires from below painting the clouds a hellish red.

The earth was trembling, the collapsing buildings slammed into the ground with a deafening roar.

In the half an hour since Hawk had arrived, this heartland of federal power had been transformed into a warzone more brutal than any battlefield in Afghanistan.

Armored vehicles, worth millions of dollars, lay scattered across the ground, burning wrecks of twisted metal.

Tanks, worth tens of millions, had their cannons ripped off, smoldering where they stood.

Even the fighter jets, each a marvel of engineering worth hundreds of millions.

Well, there were no more fighter jets. Every last one of them had been turned into an exploding pile of scrap, no different from the tanks and armored cars.

When violence begins to speak, money falls silent.

"Oh, God!"

"Fire! Fi—"

CRACK!!!

With an emotionless backhand, Hawk sent a soldier, who had been screaming in terror while firing at him—flying.

Hawk glanced down at the white marks the bullets had left on his skin, then looked up at the other soldiers before him. Or rather, at the soldiers who were dropping their weapons and turning to run.

Hawk watched them for a second, then felt the sting of bullets on his back. He turned, and his figure vanished.

"Aaargh!"

Hawk’s right hand shot out.

With a slight squeeze, he crushed a soldier’s head, ignoring the blood that splattered across his body. His eyes were devoid of emotion as he watched another group of soldiers throw down their weapons and flee.

He didn’t chase them.

Though he was on a rampage, in the last thirty minutes, he had inflicted billions of dollars in economic damage. But Hawk could, with a clear conscience, say that he was holding to his principles.

He only killed those who tried to kill him.

After half an hour of carnage, the soldiers on the base had clearly figured this out. After the armored vehicles were torched, the tanks exploded, and the jets fell from the sky, it was their turn.

Aside from a few who hadn’t gotten the memo and opened fire on Hawk, most of them just stood there with their rifles, some without even taking the safety off.

So when Hawk appeared before them, they saw their out. They dropped their weapons, screamed, and ran.

Surrender, and you live.

And it was true. Hawk didn’t bother with the soldiers who dropped their weapons and fled. He had no desire to cause a needless massacre.

This arrangement suited him just fine.

He had come to Quantico for three things.

Thaddeus Ross.

The Abomination.

And to make a statement.

Now, After killing another dozen or so soldiers who had fired on him, the sound of gunfire on the base had completely ceased.

The statement had been made. That left two things on his list.

Hawk ripped the uniform from a dead soldier’s body and used it to wipe the blood from his face as he walked toward the base’s command center—his steps as calm and unhurried as a leisurely stroll through the burning, ruined landscape.

Nearly every building on the base was a wreck. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Only the command center remained untouched.

In fact, a fighter jet had spiraled out of the sky, on a collision course with the building. Just as it was about to impact, Hawk had appeared, kicking the multi-ton aircraft aside as if it were a toy.

It wasn’t an act of mercy.

It was a simple matter of culinary preference. The main course is always served last.

The people inside the command center weren’t idiots. They’d seen what he was capable of. They knew he was saving them for last.

So they tried to run.

But they couldn’t.

With his senses fully open, Hawk gave the VIPs in the command center no chance to flee. The wrecked tanks and armored vehicles littering the ground less than fifty meters from the building were a testament to that.

Even so, the command center was not an isolated island.

Quite the opposite.

...

In front of the building, dozens of soldiers had formed a human wall, aiming their rifles at Hawk.

Thump.

Thump.

In the chaotic silence of the military base, Hawk’s footsteps were perfectly clear as he walked toward them, wiping the blood from his face, leaving a trail of bloody footprints with every step.

The footprints drew closer, and then the footsteps stopped.

Hawk stood before the military command center.

He finished wiping the blood from his arms, then casually tossed the blood-soaked uniform to the ground.

The sound of the uniform hitting the ground made the soldiers at the door flinch.

They raised their rifles at the man standing before them—unarmed, shirtless, hands casually in his pockets, his build radiating pure strength.

But they couldn’t bring themselves to pull the trigger, even as panicked VIP voices screamed desperately through their earpieces, ordering them to shoot.

They had brains... If they weren’t the unlucky bastards told to stick around and guard the bigshots, they would’ve been long gone with everyone else.

They hadn’t fired a shot. And they had seen it with their own eyes—as long as they dropped their guns, the man before them would leave them alone.

So... fire?

For what? The shitty paycheck they got every month? It wasn’t worth dying over. They were soldiers, not martyrs. They just needed an excuse to get the hell out of here—

Hawk looked at the wall of soldiers blocking his path, their weapons all mysteriously still on safety by some unspoken agreement. He let out a quiet chuckle. "Heh."

"Aaargh!"

"Oh, God!"

"Help me!"

The moment Hawk’s laugh escaped his lips, it was like a dam burst. The soldiers dropped their weapons as one, screaming and shouting as they scattered in every direction, disappearing in seconds.

A gentle breeze drifted through the now-empty courtyard. The path to the command center lay wide open.

Hawk just smiled. It was a genuine, unrestrained smile. "Hahaha!"

...

"..."

Inside, the VIPs watched the main screen, their faces pale as they stared at the image of Hawk, standing before their building with a backdrop of burning tanks and dead bodies, laughing. They began to tremble.

It wasn’t from anger. It was from fear.

Because in that moment, they understood one thing. Their lives were no more valuable than the lives of the soldiers outside. They were no more valuable than the multi-million-dollar armored cars, the tens-of-millions-of-dollars tanks, or the hundreds-of-millions-of-dollars jets.

At least, not to Hawk.

As Hawk’s laughter subsided, he looked up, his eyes cold as he stared directly into the command center’s security camera—as if making eye contact with the men inside.

The next second, his voice, devoid of all emotion, reached their ears. "Either you give me Thaddeus Ross..."

"Or I’m coming in to kill all of you!!"

"You have one minute."

"Sixty."

"Fifty-nine."

"..." He didn’t give them a chance to react. He immediately began the countdown.

Killing was one thing.

But killing them wasn’t enough—he had to break their spirit. More importantly, he needed to justify this to himself.

Once the minute was up, if they hadn’t turned over Ross, he could convince himself they were protecting him.

Then their blood would be on their own hands.

...

Soon, as he stood before the command center, his hands in his pockets, he began the final twenty seconds of his countdown. From inside the building, he could hear screaming, crying, and the sounds of a struggle.

Hawk raised an eyebrow. A small, cruel smile touched his lips.

He didn’t stop his countdown, but he paused at the eight-second mark.

Not because he had made a choice, but because the men inside had made one for him.

THUMP!

Thaddeus Ross—the once-mighty general who had turned Manhattan into a battlefield chasing the Hulk—was thrown out of the command center by the very VIPs who used to kiss his ass.

Ross, his gray hair disheveled, tripped and went sprawling down the front steps. He cried out in pain as he rolled to a stop right at Hawk’s feet.

Ross struggled to get up.

Just then.

STOMP.

"Aaargh!"

Hawk lifted his foot from the tattered uniform and brought it down on Ross’s head. With a slight pressure, Ross was pinned to the ground once more.

He leaned down, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the gray-haired man beneath his foot.

"Thaddeus Ross..."

"Aargh!"

Ross’s face turned bright red with rage as he roared and pushed against the ground, struggling to get out from under Hawk’s boot.

But it was useless.

...

Bonus Chapter at 2,300PS

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