radicalducati Page 2
Page 2
"Director!" Coulson's voice lost its usual composure, revealing a sense of urgent tension. "Urgent interception! From the NSA's deep surveillance network!"
3. Meryl Streep: God, what have we done?
Coulson strode to his desk and, without even nodding to Natasha, shoved the data panel toward Fury.
The data tablet glided smoothly across the smooth tabletop and came to a precise stop in front of Fury.
The screen activated automatically, and a dazzling white light burst forth in the dimly lit office, illuminating Fury's cold, hard face, as if sculpted from granite.
At the top of the screen, a line of scarlet, bold headlines was as glaring as congealed blood:
"Lynn Foundation Charity Gala - Final Confirmed Guest List"
Fury's gaze, like a cold probe, quickly swept downwards.
The list is filled with the names of political and business elites and tycoons from all walks of life, each representing immense power and influence.
However, his gaze was drawn as if by an invisible magnet, fixed on two names in the middle of the list.
The two names were automatically highlighted by the system, surrounded by a glaring red warning box.
"Gu Ziyun!"
"Shin Shia!"
In a prominent position, the name of the host of this dinner was clearly printed:
Hawk Lane
Fury's gaze slowly moved between the three names, from Koo Ja-yoon and Shin Si-ah, finally settling on "Hawk Lane".
Time seemed to be stretched and distorted infinitely at this moment.
The simulated flowing night outside the window seemed to have stopped undulating, and even the tireless indicator lights on the control panel seemed to have frozen in their blinking.
Fury's intact eye suddenly contracted its pupil.
A moment later, his gaze returned to the few virtual screens on the table that floated faintly and emitted a dim light.
Hawke Lane's light brown eyes, which appeared incredibly clear and sunny in the photo, now gazed back at him quietly across time and data.
Just then, something suddenly flashed through his mind.
A month ago, he personally approved the entry of a four-person combat team from South Korea, consisting of three women and one man. The leader was named Eunbi, a petite woman with a cold and aloof appearance.
Alexander Pierce came to my door in person, so I didn't pay much attention at the time and just signed the papers.
Later, breaking news broke that the conference room of the Ryan Group's senior management was attacked by unidentified individuals, resulting in a fierce battle with heavy casualties. Ultimately, the bodyguard team was almost completely wiped out, but their lives were saved.
Fury frowned, and as one of the world's top agents, he instantly connected the dots.
He only learned about the supernatural forces that appeared at the scene of the battle in the Ryan Group's conference room later.
The four-man combat team was hired by Bates Capital, a long-time rival of the Lane Group.
He also knew that Bates Capital was one of Alexander Pierce's front men, and that Alexander had long coveted Lane Group's mining assets around the world.
Just as he was pondering this, Coulson's voice rang out again: "Chief... while investigating the Busan base wreckage... while searching for information within the servers... we discovered a name..."
"'king'."
“The King…” Fury frowned slightly and repeated in a low voice, “is that one of the street heroes who have been active in Brooklyn in recent years?”
Coulson pursed his lips, remaining noncommittal.
Clearly, there is currently no evidence to prove whether there is a connection between the two.
Natasha's attention was also drawn to this; what kind of script was this?
A super-rich man transforms into a crime terminator at night?
Bruce Wayne? Natasha remembered this character who only existed in comic books.
Of course, Brooklyn's "King" is just a hero who fights street crime, but the man who committed a shocking tragedy in South Korea is clearly not a small fry.
Are these two "kings" the same person?
Fury didn't look at Hawk Lane's sunny smile again; his one eye turned to the thick, simulated darkness outside the window.
The temperature in the office seemed to drop several degrees suddenly, and the tone was icy:
"How outrageous!"
…………………………………………………………………………
Late at night in New York, Manhattan, the Steinway Tower, penthouse apartment.
The night, like expensive velvet, gently enveloped this immortal city that stood in the clouds.
Beneath your feet lies a flowing galaxy—billions of lights converge to form an ever-burning sea of light between the Hudson and East Rivers.
Hawke Lane leaned against the headboard of the bed, the amber liquid in his crystal glass swaying slightly with his wrist.
Everything around her was in disarray, with the light cutting across Aunt Mei's bare back on the messy bed.
Her sweaty brown hair clung to the back of her swan-like neck. As she sat up, the velvet blanket slipped off, and her exposed skin suddenly tightened. She suddenly felt Hawke's young fingers still resting on her lower back.
Fragments of memory from two hours ago resurfaced: his hands lifted her up and pressed her against the cold French windows, his sweaty back drawing swirling wisps of mist on the glass.
"My God, what have we done..." Aunt May sat up slightly, her eyes filled with shock. She silently moved her lips, grabbed a crumpled cup to cover her chest, and curled her toes, the Persian carpet fibers tickling her soles. "We've gone mad..."
She swore to God that she had only "bumped into" this man who frequently appeared in the headlines of the business and entertainment sections. She never expected that he would say he knew his nephew, Peter Parker, and could pull strings to get her into Midtown Tech High School, but all she needed was a chance to have dinner together.
Sensing something amiss beside him, Hawke turned his head.
"Crazy?" Hawke stroked his chin, a slight smile appearing on his face. "Well... how should I put it? Aunt May, you're already a widow, so I can't let you live like a widow any longer! And since Peter Parker is your nephew, he's also my nephew!"
Aunt Mei: ? ? ?
She stared wide-eyed, listening incredulously to these outrageous words!
It was during this encounter that Hawke was amazed by how well Meryl Streep had maintained her youthful appearance.
At this time, Peter Parker was not yet in high school, and Aunt May was in her thirties, but her skin was fair and glowing, moist and elastic, which was the most charming time for a woman.
That intellectual and elegant temperament is even more captivating, and her charm is enchanting.
4. This acceptance letter was hard-won!
Aunt Mei was taken aback. Looking closely at the twenty-year-old man in front of her, she saw the vibrant energy emanating from every pore. His new stubble on his chin had a bluish-gold hue, and his smile was as sunny as the rising sun.
Thinking about how I've been widowed for many years, and how empty I've felt for just as long, and the intermittent pleasure I experienced two hours ago...
A string suddenly snapped.
The silk shirt slipped off her shoulders like a white flag of surrender.
In the moonlight, the taut instep swayed in the air once more...
after an hour.
Aunt Mei stood in the entryway adjusting her collar, new marks on her neck overlapping with old ones.
Meryl Streep wore a navy blue long trench coat over a white shirt that accentuated her ample bust. The double-breasted belt at the waist not only raised her waistline but also highlighted her individuality, revealing her slender and graceful waist.
The flowing lines of the trousers accentuated Meryl Streep's figure, making her curves appear more defined. The trousers stretched taut over her large, round, and strikingly shaped buttocks, creating a striking visual effect.
"Aunt Mei, are you really not staying here tonight?" Hawke had already pressed himself against her from behind, his body pressed tightly against her S-curve, almost like an "S"-shaped buckle.
Aunt May waved her hand and quickly refused. Seeing that Hawke did not insist on keeping her, she breathed a sigh of relief. After all, she was no longer a girl in her twenties and could not withstand such a fuss.
After all this, she felt that Hawke was really too strong, strong in every aspect!
Once I get back, I must make sure to set aside time to exercise every day, otherwise next time...
As Aunt Mei thought about it, she suddenly blushed and muttered to herself, "How could I be looking forward to the next time?"
My phone vibrated as I entered the elevator.
Peter's text message lit up on the screen: "Aunt May! Midtown High School sent out acceptance letters!!! When are you coming home? I made blueberry muffins."
Seeing the confirmation message from Parker, and imagining his happy smile behind the screen.
Aunt May felt a surge of relief mixed with a pang of sadness: Peter, you must study hard! This acceptance letter was hard-won!
Then, as if she had made up her mind, she took out her phone, sent Hawke a text message, and then deleted Hawke's contact information:
"Mr. Hawke, thank you for your help. I think I've repaid you. Let's not contact each other again!"
On the other side, after seeing Aunt May off, Hawke walked alone to the glass window, saw the text message Aunt May had sent, and smiled: "Already repaid? Heh, the General's kindness can never be repaid in a lifetime..."
Hawke's twenty-year-old face was almost too young, his golden-brown hair looked soft and harmless in the warm indoor light, and his light brown eyes reflected the city's brilliance.
A physics teacher at a university in my past life...
The thought, like a pebble thrown into a deep pool, created ripples in his mind.
The figure who stood on the podium, speaking eloquently about the fundamentals of quantum mechanics to hundreds of students and a dozen or so top physics professors who came to hear him speak, and who was privately teased by students for being a bit "bookish," has long since become as blurred as a nightmare from a past life.
An unexpected laboratory accident, or rather, the "ticket" for the system's activation, threw him from his familiar and stable reality into the bizarre and perilous Marvel Universe.
Fortunately, he landed with a high enough status—John Lane's adopted son and only heir, the undisputed successor to this vast business empire.
John Lane, a tough and insightful old man, provided him with a material foundation and protection that most people could not imagine.
More importantly, after Hawke cautiously revealed his extraordinary abilities that went far beyond the scope of a "genius boy," he chose to trust and support him unconditionally.
All of this confidence stems from the "golden finger" that traveled with him from the depths of his consciousness—the [Annual Fortune Roulette].
A cold, precise, and emotionless system.
Every year at midnight on my birthday, the roulette wheel is activated precisely on time.
All twenty squares are shrouded in mist; the reward will only be revealed when the pointer stops.
The prizes are diverse, ranging from ordinary items to cards that summon characters, to permanent knowledge transfer, and even superpowers that grant him extraordinary strength.
Twenty years, twenty rotations.
On my first birthday, I drew an ordinary fountain pen.
On my second birthday, I won a Glock pistol with unlimited ammo.
On my 3rd birthday, I drew the Diamond Brain [Unupgradeable], a very useful passive ability. The phrase "Unupgradeable" shows the absolute defensive capability of this ability in terms of mind and spirit.