……
“Let’s get to work!”
Leaping across rooftops that weren’t exceptionally high, Hawkeye searched for criminal activities that matched his superhero persona.
For his debut, it couldn’t just be dealing with petty thieves and pickpockets; that would be too underwhelming.
The Bronx, a poorer New York district, naturally didn’t have the skyscrapers in Manhattan. It mostly had five- or six-story buildings, so Hawkeye could see everything happening below.
Fights, brawls, theft, and even murder were not uncommon in the Bronx. Hawkeye witnessed no fewer than eight incidents within just an hour of searching.
Yet, he didn’t intervene even once, as none met his criteria.
He knew he wasn’t a true avenger of justice and was clear about what he wanted.
With so many crimes happening worldwide, he couldn’t possibly intervene in every single one, nor could he blame himself for the outcomes of those he didn’t stop. That would lead to a mental breakdown sooner or later.
He permanently adhered to the principle that if he saw something wrong happening, he would help out of his volition.
It could be out of compassion or self-interest, but never under compulsion.
If he chose not to help, there was no need for guilt.
Because the consequences of the incident were the responsibility of the perpetrator, not him, the bystander.
Respect others’ fates, let go of the savior complex, and avoid self-gratification.
This might sound cruel, but it’s also a way of protecting oneself and not burdening those who genuinely care and love him.
Especially now, in the dangerous Marvel Universe, in a high-incident area like New York.
Likewise, he would be grateful if he found himself in danger and someone helped him. If no one helped, he wouldn’t resent them. He should resent the person who put him in danger.
“Found it, a classic bank robbery!”
After an hour of searching, he finally spotted a crime that met his criteria on a main street in the South Bronx.
A speeding van, with four armed robbers wielding submachine guns, was boldly firing at the pursuing police cars.
Unafraid of the police, who could only return fire with pistols, the robbers even had one among them open the van’s sunroof and pop out with an RPG.
“Boom!”
As the robber pressed the launch button, the police car closest to them instantly turned into a ball of fire.
“With that salary, why risk your lives?”
The robbers laughed arrogantly before ducking back into the van.
Perhaps intimidated by the robbers’ firepower or because several police cars had been blown up, the remaining police cars were hesitant to continue the chase.
If the van escaped their sight, finding them again in the chaotic South Bronx and recovering the stolen bank money would be almost impossible.
This is 2003, and unlike the bustling Manhattan, there weren’t many surveillance cameras on the streets.
“After shaking off these cops, we’ll head to the planned switchpoint, swap cars, and split the money,” the lead robber, having put down the RPG, opened five large bags filled with stacks of US dollars and laughed heartily as he instructed the driver.
Hearing this, the other robbers, energized, fired their submachine guns more wildly, further slowing the police cars’ pursuit.
However, just as they thought they were about to completely lose the police and perfectly conclude their heist, a golden figure suddenly descended from the sky, landing before them.
“Boss!”
The driver instinctively reached for the brakes, but the lead robber in the back immediately roared:
“Run him over!”
It was a life-or-death moment with the police, and stopping would mean trouble.
But the van, pre-modified for the robbery, was much sturdier than a regular van, capable of quickly knocking a person out of the way without damaging the vehicle.
“Stop!”
Facing the speeding van head-on, Hawkeye didn’t flinch. He firmly planted his feet, exerted his full strength, and astonishingly managed to stop the van with his hands.
After stopping the van, he lifted it with brute force, flipping it over with all six robbers inside.
If he wanted to deal with the robbers quickly, he wouldn’t have needed to go through all this trouble. Standing on the rooftop and firing a single energy blast could have turned the van into debris.
But that wasn’t the result Hawkeye wanted. People wouldn’t be able to see him; they might think it was just another rocket fired.
Indeed, he descended from the sky in a suit of golden armor, flipping the robbers’ van, instantly attracting the attention of the citizens on the street who were just in a state of shock. The brave ones had already begun to record the scene with their mobile phones.
“Damn it, die, monster!”
The overturned van did not render all the robbers powerless. The robber boss, his face covered with shards of glass, kicked open the car door with another robber and fired a barrage of bullets at Hawkeye with a submachine gun.
“Is that all?”
A cold smile appeared on Hawkeye’s face, and his hands instantly turned into a blur, catching the bullets aimed at him one by one.
If Master Roshi, with a power level of 120, could catch bullets fired by Launch with his bare hands, Hawkeye, with his power level over 140, could do it even more effortlessly.
“How is this possible?”
After firing all their bullets, the two robbers, watching Hawkeye open his hands and the bullets fall to the ground, were also stunned in place.
The boss among them even wanted to grab an RPG from inside the van, but before he could turn around, he felt a pain in his back and fainted on the ground.
It was Hawkeye who had knocked out the two robbers.
As a superhero of justice, he obviously couldn’t appear too brutal. Knocking them out was enough, and killing was definitely to be done when there were no people around.
The police, who were about to lose the chase, finally drove over. When they got out of the car and saw the overturned van and the knocked-out robbers, they were stunned for a moment, then immediately drew their guns at Hawkeye.
“Freeze, put your hands up! Who are you?”
“Golden Armor War God.”
Intentionally leaving behind a thunderous self-introduction with a loudspeaker spell, Hawkeye instantly loaded the Goku template and shouted toward the sky:
“Flying Nimbus!”
Under the dumbfounded gaze of the police and the citizens watching the excitement on the street, he leaped up, jumped onto the Flying Nimbus, and disappeared into the sky.
Names and slogans are necessary, and it’s best to announce them yourself. Otherwise, who knows what will become of it if you wait for the public to name you?
Although he felt a massive embarrassment when he said that line, to achieve the best effect, he still bit the bullet and said it solemnly and majestic, as if he were a deity.
There’s no helping it; most ordinary people eat this stuff.
He originally wanted to name himself “Golden Armor Warrior,” but since that template wasn’t available, he thought “War God” sounded more authoritative than “Warrior.”
…
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