"Hawk Lane! What the hell do you think you're doing?! That place…"
At that very moment, Hawk Lane slowly turned around, facing Nick Fury, a smile as cold as ice blooming on his handsome face.
His voice was clear, calm, and echoed with a chilling ritualistic quality across the cold night terrace:
"Because, Director Fury…"
Hawk's gaze seemed to fall directly on the panicked Bates family members who were about to board the helicopter.
"…Art is an explosion."
The instant his words fell—
BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A massive roar erupted!
On the top floor of the Bates Capital Tower, the expensive helicopter, along with the surrounding helipad area, was completely engulfed by a suddenly expanding, blinding orange-red fireball and billowing black smoke!
The shockwave of the explosion instantly shattered all the reinforced glass on the top floor, shards spraying into the sky like lethal hail, reflecting countless points of light under the moonlight and city lights.
Even the ground beneath their feet trembled; the building's top structure was visibly collapsing and twisting in a terrifying manner!
The sound wave of the explosion slammed into Fury's eardrums!
He reeled back a step, his single eye fixed on the top of the Bates Tower, pupils dilated with extreme shock, his face etched with unbelievable fury and the humiliation of being brazenly provoked.
He couldn't believe it!
This well-dressed, elegantly spoken young man, this darling of Wall Street, had, right in front of him—the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.—ordered the top floor of a skyscraper to be blown up with a casual yet utterly arrogant remark!
And this was a target S.H.I.E.L.D. had declared protected!
This was no longer a financial battle; this was naked, terrorist-level murder!
Right under his nose!
"You… you lunatic!" Fury's voice was hoarse with extreme rage; he instinctively reached for the sidearm at his hip.
Hawk Lane, however, remained standing, the cold smile on his face unchanged, as if he had just enjoyed not a destructive firework display that claimed over a dozen lives, but a true art performance.
His voice was terrifyingly steady: "The Bates' script ends here. Their greed, folly, and the hidden dangers they left behind have all been thoroughly erased in this 'curtain call.' Please convey my regards to former Director Alexander Pierce: you're welcome."
He elegantly adjusted the cuff of his suit, as if merely flicking away a speck of dust.
"As for the two girls you're concerned about," Hawk's gaze refocused on Fury's face, distorted by rage, carrying an undeniable warning, "They are my assets now. Your organization need not trouble itself. Any attempt to disturb their peaceful lives—or rather, to disturb the work I am currently undertaking—will provoke a scene potentially more 'artistically impactful' than this small firework display you just witnessed."
"The meeting concludes here." Hawk gave a slight nod, ignoring Fury's almost fiery glare, and turned to leave.
Leaving the cafe, Hawk Lane's face was unperturbed, like a gentleman who had just enjoyed a grand opera, disappearing into the crowd of countless panicked people below the Bates Tower.
Initially, Andy wasn't entirely in favor of Hawk's action, thinking it too ruthless, and even spoke of Buddhist karma. Hawk promptly silenced Andy.
This was no longer a simple business war; the Bates family had crossed the line first, hiring the Clay Doll Squad from the Witch Project to annihilate the entire Lane Group, including Andy.
Hawk was merely returning the favor; what sin was there in that?
You say I'm guilty?
Come, look me in the eyes and say it!
Heat ray warning!
Ultimately, Hawk "convinced" Andy, helping her shed her psychological burden.
And blowing them up was Enfi's initiation rite.
Infiltrating the Bates Tower rooftop to plant explosives under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s heavy protection was challenging, but Enfi proved worthy of being the Clay Doll Squad leader. As a T1-level witch in the Witch Project, second only to Goo Ja-yoon, Shin Shi-ah, and the Noble Scion.
Her superhuman physique, powerful self-healing, and strong telekinesis made her exceptionally capable even among superhumans, and she had also received professional military and espionage training.
So, performing such a task was relatively easy for her.
At this moment, Nick Fury, the King of Agents who had weathered countless storms, for the first time felt somewhat challenged by such a young yet dangerous adversary.
The declaration, "Art is an explosion," lingered in his ear for half a second before being carried away by the wind.
But what interested him more at this moment was Hawk's message he wanted him to convey to Pierce: You're welcome!
What was the meaning behind that?
Mere provocation? Or did Hawk possess deeper intelligence?
He sighed, thinking of his long-planned Avengers Initiative.
"Need to pick up the pace!"
And behind him, Natasha was utterly shocked. To do such a thing right in front of Nick Fury was the epitome of madness.
Bang!
This was not the sound of an explosion, but the crisp crack of some ice breaking deep within her.
This madness, like a meteorite plunging into a lake, instantly shattered the icy layer of rationality Natasha relied on for survival.
She had experienced countless life-and-death situations, seen all kinds of madness, but Hawk Lane's madness was different.
It was wrapped in the elegant suit of a Wall Street elite, expressed in the most proper language, executed with the utmost precision.
It held a fatal attraction for her, just as the most formidable predator is drawn to another, more powerful, more unpredictable predator.
"Damn it…" Natasha cursed under her breath, forcing her gaze to focus on the billowing smoke still rising from the top of the Bates Tower after the explosion in the distance.
But that madness still coursed through her spine like a cold electric current, bringing a nearly paralyzing tremor.
She… was excited.
This excitement was extremely faint, hidden beneath cold rationality, yet she clearly perceived it.
Like the most deadly virus, once its existence is recognized, infection is already declared.
The whisper of "always open" was no longer just a test of her willpower's boundaries; it was more like an invitation to the abyss.