Chapter 186: [290] - I Don't Fucking Care

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Hawk had come to Paris searching for Werner von Strucker without counting on anyone's help.

Including Ophelia, sitting across from him.

Just like the Andromeda necklace Gwen had given away—for Hawk, it was nothing more than a shot in the dark.

If the necklace or Ophelia helped him find Werner von Strucker, wonderful.

If not, Hawk wouldn't lose any sleep over it.

After all—

Hawk Phoenix had never been second to anyone.

From the moment he'd touched down in Paris, his Sixth Sense had blanketed every corner of the city.

And unlike before.

This time, Hawk's Sixth Sense was fueled by his continuously burning Cosmo, enveloping all of Paris in an instant.

Simultaneously.

Sixth Sense—Clairvoyance!

This ability—which allowed Gold Saints to perceive anything happening anywhere on Earth at any moment—had been activated.

While his Cosmo burned, Hawk could briefly maintain this power, granting him a godlike omniscience over the entire city of Paris.

Under this ability, every corner of Paris lay exposed. Every movement, no matter how minute, couldn't escape his perception.

Originally, Hawk had maintained his usual indifference toward the hiding Strucker.

Go ahead and hide. Hide until you die for all I care.

But that was no longer acceptable.

Before, Strucker had been nothing more than a terrorist. Now he'd evolved into something worse—a terrorist who'd destroyed a man's family harmony.

How could that be tolerated?

Gwen hadn't said anything, but Hawk had to act.

Put it this way.

Women possessed a special talent. They could bring up the same grievance over and over—even dredge up incidents from centuries past that had nothing to do with anything.

So—

To avoid Gwen ever saying "You must have been secretly thrilled about it," he had to demonstrate outrage. Even if he wasn't angry, he had to act like it.

Activating this godlike perception was beyond what Hawk's pre-Gold-level Cosmo should handle.

But he couldn't worry about that now.

Bottom line.

Strucker would not live to see tomorrow's sunrise.

And so—

Just moments ago, Hawk had heard Strucker's voice as clearly as if it were right beside him.

That was when he'd spotted him—the unremarkable young man several blocks away, apparently on a phone call.

Strucker's voice was coming from that phone.

Hawk's eyebrow rose.

"Found you, Strucker."

"..."

Ophelia, sitting across from him and frantically searching her memory for anything connected to Strucker, suddenly found herself staring at an empty chair. She blinked, sat there for a moment, then rose from her seat, left money and a tip on the table, and departed.

At that moment, Werner was in his apartment, on the phone with his father—whom he believed was an engineer—asking when he'd be returning to Paris.

Here was a joke.

As Hydra's leader, Strucker had never told his son he was Hydra.

It sounded absurd, but it was the truth.

Strucker figured that if Hydra conquered the world, he could tell Werner afterward.

And if Hydra failed—even if he died—his son Werner would still live a good life.

Everyone knew.

Engineers in the West commanded excellent salaries. So even though Strucker hadn't returned to Paris since Sokovia, the savings he'd left were more than enough for Werner to live comfortably.

But Strucker genuinely loved his son and cared deeply about him. Even unable to return to Paris, he still called monthly to chat.

A parent's love knew no bounds.

Werner had called this time to ask where exactly Strucker was traveling for work. Winter break was approaching, and his friends had invited him to vacation in India. If Strucker happened to be there, maybe they could meet up.

Strucker said he wasn't in India. Where exactly he was remained classified due to work confidentiality. But he supported Werner's travel plans.

After all, Werner's public identity was spotless—completely disconnected from Hydra. The world was his oyster.

After some tender father-son conversation, Strucker hung up with a loving smile.

And Werner was about to receive a visit from another loving father figure.

The moment he'd ended the call—about to phone his friend to confirm the India trip—Werner's vision blurred. Then he found himself staring at Hawk, who had materialized directly in front of him.

Werner froze instinctively.

"Who are—"

"Ghhk—!"

Before Werner could finish, Hawk's will lifted him off the floor. His entire body hung suspended in midair.

Werner's face contorted with terror. He opened his mouth to scream—only to discover he couldn't make a sound.

Hawk glanced at the floating Werner, then surveyed the apartment's layout.

The space screamed "single father raising a kid."

No warmth anywhere. Nothing feminine in sight.

Before Gwen had moved into 521A Palm Street, Hawk's house had looked much the same.

The entire place had two colors.

Black and white.

But once Gwen moved in, it was like magic. The black-and-white rooms had transformed into something vibrant and alive.

Now, anyone stepping into 521A Palm Street could tell at a glance: this was a warm, happy home.

Similarly.

Hawk could read "happiness" in Werner's apartment too.

No woman lived here—just father and son—but happiness still lingered in the air.

Strucker was a villain. But villains could have happiness too.

No contradiction there.

Hawk didn't deny that.

However—

Your happiness has nothing to do with why I'm going to destroy you.

Hawk withdrew his gaze and looked at Werner—suspended in midair, expression cycling through confusion, fear, and panic.

The next second.

Sixth Sense—Teleportation!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Without a word, Hawk transported Werner out of the apartment—and materialized above the Pacific Ocean.

One blink, and Werner found himself suspended over endless water. His expression froze somewhere between shock and vacancy.

The ocean was beautiful.

But the sun was brutal.

Within moments, Werner—bound and fully exposed to the blazing sun—began to feel the heat.

Hawk extended his right hand, telekinetically pulling Werner's satellite phone into his grasp. Expression calm, he scrolled through the recent calls and dialed.

The connection went through quickly.

A moment later.

Someone answered.

Strucker had just left his office when the phone rang again. Without showing any reaction, he returned inside and retrieved it.

"Son, what—"

"Strucker."

"..."

Inside the office, Strucker's warm smile froze solid the instant he heard Hawk's voice.

The next second.

He shot up from his chair, voice cracking with alarm.

"Hawk!"

"Pacific Ocean. Check your satellite."

"..."

No response came through the phone—only rapid footsteps. After a moment, Strucker's voice rang out.

"Pacific Ocean. Satellite. Now."

"Yes, sir."

A Hydra operative glanced at Strucker's murderous expression, shuddered, and quickly redirected a satellite toward the Pacific.

Soon, The main screen displayed the Pacific's waters.

What they saw:

Two men appeared in the frame. One seemed bound, completely motionless. The other stood casually—one hand in his pocket, the other holding a phone.

Strucker's gaze fixed on the man suspended in the sky, being slowly roasted by the sun. His composure shattered completely.

Hawk sensed the surveillance from above and chuckled softly.

"Strucker. See him?"

"..."

Strucker closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. Tried desperately to regain his calm.

"I see him. And?"

"And?"

Hawk heard this and smiled. "There is no 'and.' I just wanted you to watch. Don't worry—I won't use your son to threaten you. I won't even ask where you're hiding."

He said this with a smile.

But to Strucker, it felt like plunging into an ice bath.

Strucker's hands had gone cold.

"Let my son go. He knows nothing."

"Heh." Hawk's gaze turned distant. "So, Strucker—are you trying to make a deal with me?"

Strucker's mind raced.

After a moment.

He gritted his teeth, breathing deeply.

"Yes. Release my son. I'll release your children."

"I refuse."

"What?"

Strucker blinked, as if he hadn't heard correctly.

Hawk stood suspended above the Pacific. He tilted his head up—under the satellite's gaze, under Strucker's gaze—and flashed a brilliant smile.

"I don't mind when people want to play games with me."

"But once the game starts, I'm the one who decides when it ends."

"...What are you going to do?!"

Strucker's heart lurched. On the main screen, Hawk's smile had turned mocking. "Kill my son, and your children die too."

Hawk laughed.

He threw his head back and roared with laughter.

The sound tore through the satellite phone, echoing throughout the entire Hydra command center.

The next second.

On the satellite feed, Hawk's laughter died. His eyes pierced through the camera—as if looking directly at Strucker, meeting his gaze head-on.

Hawk's voice turned to ice.

"I."

"Don't."

"Fucking."

"CARE."

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