The two exchanged glances, deciding Katherine would make the first move.
But unexpectedly, as soon as the bell rang, Hawk had just finished packing when a figure rushed over faster than she could.
"Hawk!" The blonde, blue-eyed, incredibly hot cheerleader captain, Emily Chen, bounced up to him like a happy bird, intimately linking her arm through his. "We have practice this afternoon, will you come watch me?" She batted her curled eyelashes, her voice sickly sweet.
This scene left Katherine, who hadn't even approached yet, speechless.
Before Hawk could speak, a light cough came from beside them.
Student Council President Olivia Dunn, holding a folder, wore a sharp business suit and exuded a cool, elegant aura.
She pushed up her gold-rimmed glasses, her gaze sweeping over Emily's arm linked with Hawk's, her tone businesslike but with a hint of undetectable sharpness: "Hawk, regarding the sponsorship details for the annual New York Charity Gala, my father wishes to discuss them with you in person. Are you available this afternoon?"
Olivia Duncan, daughter of New York Mayor Elliot Duncan.
Emily immediately pouted, hugging him tighter: "I asked Hawk first!"
Olivia's gaze flickered behind her glasses: "Business takes precedence, Ms. Chen."
Hawk, caught in the middle, wore a faint, almost imperceptible smile, like an observer.
He raised his hand, his long fingers subtly pinching Emily's waist, eliciting a soft gasp from her, instantly deflating her bravado.
At the same time, he looked at Olivia with a hint of playfulness: "Of course, Mayor Duncan's request must be honored. This afternoon is fine."
Olivia's lips curved in satisfaction. She glanced at Emily, then turned and left, her heels clicking sharply.
"Hmph!" Emily huffed angrily. "Then meet me at our usual spot tonight!" With that, she stomped her foot and ran off.
Hawk shook his head. Just as he walked out of the academic building, his phone rang. It was from Professor Emilia: Hawk, I accept your invitation to become CEO of Lane Capital. I will be submitting my resignation to the college soon. Also, regarding that dynamic game theory model you proposed last time, would you be free to discuss it in my office after class? There are some details I'd like to ask you about.
A small flame emoji followed the text.
Hawk raised an eyebrow, tapping his finger on the screen: My pleasure.
Sent.
Meanwhile.
Triskelion, Nick Fury's office.
Outside the thick bulletproof windows, the Washington D.C. morning light was dazzling, yet it couldn't penetrate the solidified gloom in Nick Fury's single eye.
The office was filled with an invisible gunpowder smoke and a cold silence, far heavier than last night's explosion.
Fury stood with his back to the door, like a silent black statue, before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, his gaze seemingly piercing through time and space, fixed on the orange-red mushroom cloud over Manhattan last night—still repeatedly shown in the news—a symbol of his humiliation.
His fingers unconsciously tightened, the muscles on his dark face taut as steel.
Fooled!
Brazenly provoked!
At the very moment he, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., declared protection to Alexander Pierce, and indeed to the entire intelligence community, Hawk Lane, with a shocking explosion, had pulverized his promise along with the Bates family.
This wasn't a failure; it was a slap in the face, loud enough for the whole world to hear.
"Hill." His voice was hoarse.
"Sir." Maria Hill immediately appeared behind him, her face equally grim, holding a newly received report.
"Casualties confirmed?"
"Seven core members of the Bates family, three Bates Capital executives, and four of our field agents responsible for escort—all confirmed dead in the explosion."
Hill's tone was devoid of emotion, but deep in her eyes lurked anger and self-reproach. "The site was precisely destroyed by high-energy explosives, leaving no valuable traces. It was textbook clean, but Hawk Lane's movements throughout the day can be traced, so it shouldn't have been him personally."
Fury slowly turned around: "Given the power of the Lane family, finding a few professionals isn't difficult, but operating without a trace under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s nose is indeed not easy."
He walked to the massive holographic console, his fingers quickly sliding across it, bringing up the logos of several highly classified global projects: "Activate highest priority surveillance, target: Hawk Lane, 'King,' internal codename: 'Traveler.'"
"Collect all combat records, videos, photos, and witness testimonies regarding the King's appearances in Brooklyn and elsewhere, and submit them to S.H.I.E.L.D. for analysis and archiving!"
"All relevant intelligence, regardless of classification, report directly to me."
"Activate the 'SWORD' provisional communication channel. I need their support in low Earth orbit, targeting any super-scale energy bursts, especially fluctuations similar in frequency to the Busan explosion's energy."
He paused, his eyes growing even deeper. "Additionally, the research results and data from the 'Witch Project' are to be immediately cross-referenced with the existing Super Soldier Program to accelerate human experimentation."
Hill quickly jotted down the instructions, then hesitated slightly: "Understood. But Director, is there really nothing we can do about Hawk Lane?"
Fury looked up at Hill, replying without hesitation: "Yes, this world is just that realistic. Even though we are the most powerful intelligence agency in the world, there are still quite a few things we can't handle!"
"His father, John Lane, was like Howard Stark back in the day, even able to enter and exit the White House at will…"
"Remember the human experiments we found the Osborn Group conducting before?"
"And the major disaster caused by the Roxxon Energy Group's biological experiments!"
"In the end, didn't they all just fade away without consequence!"
"Even if we found evidence against Hawk Lane, the most likely outcome would be to execute a scapegoat suffering from a terminal illness, willing to trade their last few days of life for hundreds of thousands of dollars."
"But no matter what, I hope you remember that we are always humanity's last barrier, bearing the great responsibility of protecting humanity. This will never change!"
Hill's gaze was as firm as if she were about to pledge allegiance, and she immediately stood at attention: "Yes, sir!"
"But there's one more thing," Hill spoke again, looking at Fury, "Pierce…"
Hearing that name, Fury seemed to deflate instantly, his mouth twitching, only able to wave his hand helplessly: "Prepare for a storm."
No sooner had he spoken than, as if to confirm his words, the highly encrypted dedicated phone on Fury's desk emitted a sharp, continuous, alarm-like buzzing.
The glaring name "Alexander Pierce" flashed on the screen.
Fury took a deep breath, all emotion instantly receding from his face, leaving only an unfathomable indifference.
He gestured to Hill to keep the communication monitored, then pressed the answer button.
"Nick Fury!!!"
The voice from the other end of the line was not a rational one, but the roar of a wounded, enraged, utterly out-of-control beast, its voice hoarse and distorted, with a crackling static like high-voltage electricity, clearly coming through an unstable encrypted channel, perhaps even accompanied by the background noise of smashing communication equipment.
"What the hell did you do?! You promised me! You swore to me! A promise like dog shit!!"