"Let's get to work!"
Leaping across the rooftops, which weren't particularly high, Hawking began searching for a crime incident that suited his debut.
For his first appearance, he couldn't just deal with petty thieves like he did just now; that would be too pathetic.
As a poor district of New York, the Bronx naturally didn't have high-rise buildings everywhere like Manhattan. The small buildings, typically five or six stories high, allowed Hawking to see everything happening below more clearly.
Fights, brawls, thefts, and even murders were not uncommon in the Bronx. In the hour Hawking spent searching, he saw no fewer than eight such incidents.
However, he never intervened, because none of them met his requirements.
He knew very well that he wasn't some true champion of justice, and he also knew what he wanted.
Too many crimes occurred in this World; he couldn't possibly deal with every single one, nor could he blame himself for not intervening in every incident, as that would lead to a mental breakdown eventually.
His principle had always been that if he saw something bad happening and chose to help, it must be out of his own free will.
Perhaps it was out of sympathy and compassion, or perhaps for personal gain, but never out of compulsion.
If he didn't help, there was no need to feel guilty.
Because the one responsible for the consequences of the incident was the perpetrator, not him, the bystander.
Respect others' fates, let go of the urge to help, and avoid self-gratification.
This saying sometimes sounds a bit cruel, but it's also a way of protecting oneself. Otherwise, not only would he suffer, but he would also burden those who truly cared for and loved him.
Especially now, in a dangerous Marvel World, and in New York, a high-incident area.
Similarly, if he himself encountered danger and someone helped him, he would be grateful. If no one helped, he wouldn't resent others; he should resent the person who put him in danger.
"Found it! A classic bank robbery!"
After an hour of searching, he finally discovered a crime incident that met his requirements on a street in the South Bronx.
Inside a speeding van, four armed thugs with submachine guns were arrogantly firing wildly at the pursuing Police cars.
Facing the Police, who could only retaliate with handguns, they showed no fear whatsoever.
One thug even opened the van's sunroof and emerged with an RPG.
"Boom!"
As the robber pressed the Launch button, the closest pursuing Police car instantly turned into a ball of Fire.
"With that meager salary you get each month, why are you risking your lives?"
The thug laughed arrogantly and climbed back inside.
Perhaps fearing the thugs' powerful firepower, or perhaps because several Police cars had been blown up, the trailing Police cars clearly dared not pursue as closely.
If the van escaped their sight, then in the chaotic South Bronx, it would be almost impossible to find them again and recover the stolen bank money.
It was 2003, and this wasn't the bustling Manhattan; there weren't many surveillance cameras on the streets.
"After we shake off these Police, drive to the planned transfer point. Then we'll switch to another car and go back to split the money."
The leader of the robbers put down the RPG, opened five large bags placed in the car, and, looking at the stacks of U.S. dollars inside, laughed loudly as he instructed the driver, his subordinate.
The other robbers immediately became invigorated, firing their submachine guns wildly, further slowing the pursuit of the Police cars behind them.
However, just as they thought they would soon completely shake off the Police and perfectly conclude the robbery, a golden figure suddenly descended from the sky, landing directly in front of them.
"Boss!"
The driver instinctively tried to hit the brakes, but the robber leader in the back immediately roared:
"Run him over!"
They were in a life-or-death race against the Police; stopping now would be troublesome.
He had arranged for this robbery van to be modified in advance, making it much sturdier than a normal van. Running over a person would be easy, and he wouldn't have to worry about the car breaking down.
"Stop for me!"
Facing the van speeding towards him, Hawking showed no surprise. Channeling his energy throughout his body, he simply extended one hand and effortlessly forced the van to a halt.
And after stopping the van, he flipped it upwards, sending the van, with its six thugs, into a two-and-a-half spin in the air.
Actually, to quickly deal with these robbers, it wasn't necessary to go through so much trouble. Standing on the rooftop, a single energy blast from a distance could have blown the van to pieces.
But that wasn't the result Hawking wanted. People wouldn't see him and would just think someone had fired another Rocket.
Indeed, the scene of him, clad in golden armor, descending from the sky and flipping the robbers' van instantly captivated the citizens on the street, who had just been in a state of shock. The bolder ones had already started recording with their phones.
"Damn it, die, monster!"
The overturned van clearly hadn't incapacitated all the robbers. The leader, his face covered in glass shards, along with another robber, kicked open the car door and began wildly firing his submachine gun at Hawking, making a "Dadada" sound.
"Is that all?"
Hawking sneered, and his hands instantly became a blur, catching each bullet fired at him.
A Crane Hermit with 120 battle power could catch bullets fired by Launch with his bare hands. With his current battle power of over 140, it was naturally even easier for him.
"How is this possible?"
The two robbers, having run out of bullets, watched as Hawking opened his hands and bullets fell to the ground, stunned in disbelief.
The leader tried to grab the RPG from the van, but before he could turn around, he felt a pain in his back and collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
It was Hawking who had knocked out the two robbers.
As a righteous Superhero, he certainly couldn't appear too brutal. Knocking them out was sufficient; killing would definitely have to be done when no one was around.
Meanwhile, the Police, who had almost been outrun, finally caught up. When they got out of their cars and saw the overturned van and the unconscious robbers, they were momentarily stunned, then immediately drew their pistols and aimed them at Hawking.
"Don't move, hands up! Who are you?"
"God of War."
Deliberately leaving a thunderous self-introduction using an amplification spell, Hawking instantly loaded the Goku template and shouted into the air:
"kinto'un!"
Under the dumbfounded gazes of the Police and the curious citizens on the street, he leaped onto the kinto'un, and riding it, disappeared into the sky.
Names and slogans were naturally necessary, and it was best to announce them yourself beforehand. Otherwise, if you waited for the public to name you, there's no telling what it would become.
Although he was filled with shame when he first uttered that phrase, to achieve the best effect, he gritted his teeth and said it, maintaining a very solemn and sacred tone, as if he were a deity.
There was no other way; most ordinary people in this World fell for that kind of thing.
And they understood "God of War," similar to Ares, who is also one of the deities in Western mythology.
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