Chapter 1: Cultivating a Little Universe in the Marvel Universe (Please collect!)
Marvel Universe.
June 15, 2012.
Friday.
Midtown High School, New York City.
Hawk, seventeen years old this year, was sweating profusely in the old gymnasium.
âBang!â
âBang, bang, bang!â
One after another, impactful sounds continuously rang out. As the black sandbag suspended in mid-air was repeatedly struck by Hawk, the iron chains suspending the sandbag also emitted a harsh sound the moment the black sandbag swung up.
Hawkâs hair was already soaked with sweat.
Sweat trickled down his prominent cheekbones, flowed over his taut jawline, and finally dripped onto the collar of his old T-shirt, which was also already damp with sweat.
But Hawkâs gaze never left the sandbag.
He was completely focused.
At this moment, the sandbag in front of him was his entire World.
âNine thousand nine hundred fifty-one!â
âNine thousand nine hundred fifty-two!â
ââŠâ
Hawk adjusted his footwork, silently counting in his mind, while deftly dodging the returning swing of the sandbag with a side-step. Without any pause, he delivered left hooks, right swings⊠every punch connecting, the sandbag swayed violently under his storm-like assault, and the leather surface of the sandbag appeared even more worn and torn from the repeated impacts.
Punch out.
Pull back.
Punch out again.
With each punch thrown, Hawkâs movements seemed to gradually quicken.
Faster and faster.
UntilâŠ
âTen thousand!â
âBang!â
The flame deep in Hawkâs eyes surged at this moment. His recently retracted fist shot out like lightning, striking the falling sandbag with the precision of a snakeâs tongue. The sandbag suddenly caved inward, emitting a pained thud, and the chain connecting it finally gave way, snapping directly.
The sandbag, freed from the iron chainâs restraint, flew backward, letting out a mournful cry in the air before crashing heavily onto the floor with a loud thud.
âBoom!â
âWhew!â
With todayâs ten thousand punches completed, Hawk looked at the torn sandbag lying on the floor. Only then did he exhale the stale air he had been holding, his chest rising and falling slightly as he steadied his breathing.
Sweat flowed freely down his face, gathering at the tip of his chin, then dripping onto the leg of his cheap sweatpants beneath his feet.
Of course.
âCheapâ was relative.
To others, these pants, worth twelve U.S. dollars, might be cheap, even very cheap.
But for Hawk, it was not the case.
After allâŠ
In this life, he was an orphan, and an orphan who had transmigrated to the Marvel Universe.
If it werenât for his excellent academic performance in this life, which earned him a scholarship to Midtown High School, letâs just say that the tens of thousands of dollars in tuition fees each semester would have been something he could never afford.
But even with the scholarship, Hawk still lived frugally.
It wasnât that he had a good habit of being frugal, but rather that although he received a school scholarship, it wasnât the highest tier.
At least, it wasnât like the one received by Gwen Stacy, the student assistant in the same grade.
Gwen Stacy received the highest tier scholarship.
Not only did she not have to pay for schooling, but the school even provided a sum of money each semester, not to mention the various knowledge competitions with exceptionally generous prizes.
Hawkâs scholarship was the most common type, which only exempted him from tuition fees.
After all, his grades could only be considered excellent, not exceptionally excellent.
However, Hawk was content with this.
Midtown High School waived his tuition fees. For federal orphans like him, who were between sixteen and eighteen years old and in what was called the âindependent transition period,â and had no foster family, the school provided a monthly subsidy of eight hundred U.S. dollars.
And because Midtown High School, which he got into, was an elite school in New York State, New York State also provided a monthly subsidy of five hundred U.S. dollars.
Calculated this way, he could earn thirteen hundred U.S. dollars a month.
This amount might not be enough for an adult living in New York City, but for Hawk, who was still receiving federal orphan benefits and attending school tuition-free, it was currently sufficient.
Even more than enough.
After all, he ate at school, and slept in a cheap federal welfare apartment.
With a monthly subsidy income of thirteen hundred, minus five hundred U.S. dollars for basic living expenses each month, he could still save eight hundred U.S. dollars a month.
What?
Five hundred isnât enough?
Again, thatâs the point.
It might not be enough for an adult, but for Hawk, it was still sufficient.
Every afternoon, he would complete his âTen Thousand Punches Dailyâ routine at the gymnasium, then take a shower there and wash his clothes. Afterward, he would take the last free school bus home, go to sleep upon arriving, and then take the earliest school bus to school the next day.
He didnât even have utility bills, let alone phone or internet bills.
He was an orphan.
One person full, the whole family not hungry.
Who could he call, and who would call him?
As for internet fees?
Heh heh.
He didnât even have a computer. Anyway, when he needed to use the internet, the school library had public computers, and even printing was free.
SoâŠ
Although he started this reborn life as an orphan, Hawk felt he was doing alright.
He could save eight hundred U.S. dollars every month, and even every now and then, he could go to a similarly cheap fried chicken restaurant and order a large bucket of fried chicken, considering it a way to replenish his energy.
By now, he had accumulated over thirty thousand U.S. dollars in savings.
Feeling great.
Of course.
It would be even better if there were fewer people of color at the fried chicken restaurant.
After a while.
Standing still, Hawk, with his eyes slightly closed, slowly opened them, looking at the sandbag that had fallen onto the floor, seemingly lost in thought.
Because he wasnât looking at the sandbag, but at a prompt box that appeared before his eyes.
To be precise, it was his cheat.
âLittle Universe Cultivation!â
âCurrent Status: âNot Activatedââ
âActivation Condition: âConsecutive thousand days, ten thousand punchesââ
âActivation Progress: â999 / 1000ââ
âSoon!â
âSoon.â
âIt will be activated tomorrow.â
Hawk looked at the activation progress displayed in the prompt box that only he could see, his heart warming, wishing that time could instantly warp to tomorrow.
This cheat came online when he was fifteen in this life.
To be precise, it came online on September 10, 2009.
He remembered it especially clearly.
Because that day happened to be the day of the battle between Hulk and Abomination in New York City.
So he didnât slack off at all.
Once the cheat arrived, he started training!
No choice.
Who made the World he transmigrated to the Marvel Universe, where âsuperheroes walk everywhere, extraordinary beings are not as good as dogs, and cosmic deities roam freelyâ?
Before the cheat, if he wanted to lie down, he would lie down.
But now that the cheat had arrived, would he still lie down?
Then wouldnât the cheat have come for nothing?
SoâŠ
From the day the cheat came online, Hawk maintained the habit of throwing ten thousand punches daily.
Not one day less.
Rain or shine.
Unwavering.
In short, one sentence.
Food, one can skip.
Punching, one cannot skip.
To this day.
He had maintained the habit of throwing ten thousand punches daily for nine hundred ninety-nine consecutive days.
NowâŠ
The dawn of victory was finally approaching!
âŠ
New book by a new author, begging for collections, with two hundred thousand words in reserve, a desperate battle!!