Chapter 979: Kill the Pentagon First, Then the Dark-Skinned Guy (First Update!)

Boom!

As Hawk’s final punch landed, the alloy door, which had already been dented to the point of no return, finally let out a strained sound and was pierced clean through by his fist.

Inside the safe house.

Every gaze, including that of Thaddeus Ross, was filled with shock and fear as they looked at the alloy door that had been punched open, then forcibly ripped apart by two hands to create an opening large enough for a person to pass through.

The next second.

Hawk, dressed in a scarlet skintight combat suit, appeared expressionless within the sight of everyone in the safe house, the glaring red light of the room reflecting off his calm face.

Throughout the entire process, Hawk did not say a single word.

There was only the harsh alarm of the safe house, the sound of metal twisting from the torn alloy door, and the sound of the heartbeats of everyone in the room under these bizarre circumstances.

"Heh!"

Hawk’s gaze swept over the people hiding in the safe house, then landed on Thaddeus Ross’s face.

Thaddeus Ross opened his mouth.

"Mr. Phoenix, we can..."

"Snap!"

The moment Thaddeus Ross began to speak, Hawk appeared right in front of him, raised his right hand, grabbed the man’s neck, and squeezed hard.

The expression on Thaddeus Ross’s face froze instantly, his eyes lingering in a state of three parts tension, three parts unease, three parts panic, and one final part expectation, before they began to glaze over at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Thud!

Hawk released his right hand, letting the corpse of Thaddeus Ross, eyes wide open, fall freely, then spoke calmly.

"Talk?"

"Do you think I’m Magneto?"

Although the main reason this group of people could be so dismissive of mutants was largely due to the help of Professor X, who stood on the human side despite being a mutant.

But another part of the reason was the mutant hawk leader, Magneto.

Old Magneto wasn't actually a typical hawk, either.

If one had to define him, Hawk believed the title of "surrenderist" suited him much better.

Good grief.

What did you think rebellion was?

A dinner party? You had already stormed the White House, you were one step away from victory, you could have at least chopped the president at the time to pieces.

And the result?

Not only did he not chop the president, but after a round of Professor X’s preaching, he just like that, so easily, chose to give up his grand cause.

Hiss!

He turned a life-or-death struggle into a game of house; it’s no wonder these federal people treat mutants like pigs and dogs.

If it were Hawk, he would have done the same.

I abuse you a thousand times, and you pose no personal threat to me; so what if you storm my door? Anyway, there’s Professor X, one round of preaching, and you’ll feel like you can put down the butcher’s knife and become a Buddha on the spot.

Therefore—

Eighty percent of the mutants' current situation on this Earth is owed to the saintly Professor X, and the other twenty percent is owed to the surrenderist Magneto.

But Hawk is not those two.

Can we talk?

Talk to your mother!

When I was trying to talk to you nicely, you wouldn't listen; well, now that I’ve started using my fists and you want to talk nicely, it’s my turn not to listen.

Courtesy demands reciprocity, after all.

Very reasonable.

Hawk looked at the wide-eyed, dead Thaddeus Ross at his feet and said as much, then stomped the head beneath him into a pulp, looked up at the others in the safe house, and said coldly: "Where is the temp from 1600? Contact them."

The others in the safe house looked at each other in dismay upon hearing this.

Hawk raised an eyebrow.

"Ten seconds. If the temp from 1600 doesn't appear on the big screen, all of you will die!"

"...Contact 1600 immediately!"

"Hurry!"

Ten seconds later.

The big screen in the safe house instantly displayed the background of the Oval Office, along with the temp who was currently sitting behind that desk rich with historical atmosphere.

Hawk looked at the temp appearing on the big screen and frowned.

"Another damn dark-skinned guy!"

"..."

The temp appearing on the big screen heard Hawk’s blunt remark, and his face turned black instantly.

However, considering he was already a dark-skinned man to begin with, no matter how black his face turned, it was actually impossible to tell from the outside.

"Ahem!"

The man subconsciously coughed to clear his throat, looked through the screen at Hawk, who was standing in the safe house with his foot on a corpse, and said: "Mr. Phoenix, I assure you that the matter of the Sentinel Services and the attack on you have nothing to do with 1600; it was all the unauthorized actions of William Stryker and Thaddeus Ross!"

Passing the buck, huh.

They were quite professional at this.

Ten years ago, they passed the buck once, pushing everything targeting mutants onto the short Bolivar Trask.

What else could they do?

Admit directly that it was the Federation supporting Bolivar Trask, trying to let the latter develop a way to control or even suppress mutants?

Don't be ridiculous.

The only one at fault could be Bolivar Trask, not the Federation; the Federation wanted to coexist peacefully with mutants, and the Federation had been deceived.

Just like right now.

The ones at fault were William Stryker and Thaddeus Ross, not anyone else, and certainly not the Federation’s 1600.

Hawk looked at the temp on the big screen, talking nonsense with a straight face, and smiled.

The temp smiled back.

"Mr. Phoenix, you have..."

"Splat!"

"Ah!"

"Shit!"

"Fuck!"

Hawk didn't wait for the temp to speak again; his figure flashed, and he arrived in front of another general, squeezing his head into a pulp with a forceful grip, drawing screams and fearful, racing heartbeats from the people in the safe house, while the politician’s smile on the temp’s face on the big screen froze.

"Phoen..."

"Splat!"

"Ah!"

"Jesus Christ!"

"..."

The temp fell silent, looking through the screen at the third new headless corpse on the floor of the Pentagon safe house and the expressionless Hawk, sinking into total silence.

After a while.

Hawk chuckled and looked back up at the big screen.

"Not talking anymore?"

"..."

The temp pursed his lips.

Talk?

How could he talk? As a politician, how could he not see that Hawk was just demonstrating; as long as he spoke, Hawk would kill someone. In this situation, how could he possibly speak?

"Heh, I thought you, a dark-skinned guy, were as stupid as the one in the world I came from, who was almost wiped out by me."

Hawk looked at the silent temp: "I didn't expect you to be a bit clever."

The next second.

His tone shifted.

"But..."

"It’s useless!"

Having said that, Hawk moved again, his scarlet light turning into lightning, instantly passing through the bodies of the others still surviving in the safe house, accompanied by a sky full of blood mist rising in the room; by the time Hawk’s figure reappeared, the safe house was completely empty.

Still the same thing.

When I was trying to talk to you nicely, you wouldn't listen; since that's the case, when you try to talk to me nicely, I won't listen either.

Hawk looked at the temp on the big screen, the corners of his mouth curling upward.

"Dark-skinned guy, since you’re so smart, guess why I let the people here contact you?"

"..."

As soon as these words were spoken.

Watching the blood mist fill the safe house with his own eyes, the temp’s thoughts raced, and he reacted instantly, a look of terror appearing on his face as he subconsciously looked at Hawk on the big screen.

But Hawk had already disappeared.

"Not good!"

"He is heading here..."

The African chief in the Oval Office felt his alarm bells ring instantly; he slammed the table and stood up, roaring in terror.

The next second.

A piercing alarm sounded throughout the entire White Building, and the air defense system automatically came online and began to prepare for operation.

But before the air defense system could fully react, the moment the close-in weapon system above the White Building turned its muzzle, a streak of crimson light, like a meteorite falling from the sky, precisely pierced toward the roof of the White Building.

Boom—!

No maneuvering, no probing; there was only the most extreme penetration!

The sturdy white dome turned into powder the moment it made contact with Hawk, and the crimson light did not slow down in the slightest, piercing through every floor slab like a hot knife through butter.

The chandelier in the Federal Hall turned into crystalline dust under the shockwave.

The silk wall decorations in the Red Room were torn into shreds by the shockwave.

The exquisite furniture in the Blue Room tumbled and disintegrated in the blast of air.

The so-called reinforced concrete was like fragile cardboard, exploding inward, forming a large hole that ran from top to bottom through the entire main body of the White Building.

Rubble and dust poured downward like a waterfall.

The entire process took less than half a second!

Inside the Oval Office, the moment the African chief's roar was still echoing, the ceiling suddenly burst open.

Hawk descended vertically from the falling building debris, and the moment his toes touched the blue-backed golden eagle carpet that symbolized the Federation, the shockwave that followed instantly shattered all the bulletproof glass in the office, while the rolling air blast sent the African chief, his staff, and everyone who had received notice and rushed there to hold an emergency meeting to discuss countermeasures, flying out.