Andrew's body trembled.
Bang!
A pair of blood-red wings suddenly unfurled from Andrew's back.
The next second.
The blood-red wings became as hard as blood-colored steel, shimmering with a cold, bloody light under the moonlight, and shot out, covering the sky and earth, towards Hawke, who had appeared in the backyard at some unknown point.
Hawke neither dodged nor avoided, calmly watching the blood-red wings shooting towards him.
Clink, clink, clink—
One after another, the blood-red wings suddenly shattered just as they were about to touch Hawke, emitting a crisp metallic clatter before falling limply to the ground.
In the blink of an eye.
The lawn in front of Hawke was already covered with a dense layer of blood-red wings.
Andrew shielded his wife, Amy, behind him, his expression wary as he looked at the newcomer, who seemed somewhat familiar under the moonlight, his voice low and tinged with a hint of desperation.
"Who are you!"
"Hawke."
Andrew was looking at Hawke.
Hawke was also looking at Andrew.
This was his first meeting with his biological father in this life.
Hmm.
The way they met was quite unique.
Just like his previous meeting with Amy.
But... once again, Hawke didn't feel any heartfelt emotion.
After he had condensed his timelines and awakened his Seventh Sense, elevating his life level to the 'God' tier, he rarely felt intense joy, anger, sorrow, or happiness.
Hawke understood that this was the natural emergence of divinity.
However!
Just now, when Andrew recounted how he had long awakened but stayed behind for his son, daughter, and wife, planning to kill the soon-to-awaken Death Angel and then commit suicide, leaving Jehovah with no leverage against his son.
Frankly speaking.
At that moment, Hawke's heart was indeed stirred.
Though it was only for an instant.
But stirred it was.
Hawke did not deny what had happened.
The love of parents for their child plans far ahead for them.
Hawke suddenly recalled this saying in his mind, his gaze sweeping past Andrew and landing on Amy, who was shielded behind Andrew.
He also remembered a conversation between Amy and Wanda.
At that time, Amy, after seeing him and Anya, thought they had been adopted and stopped paying attention, because she was afraid that her appearance would bring discomfort to Hawke and Anya's new life.
And at the moment Hawke introduced himself.
Amy, who was shielded behind Andrew, suddenly trembled, instinctively wanting to step out from her husband's ever-warm embrace.
Andrew felt Amy's movement and quickly spoke out.
"Amy..."
"It's okay."
Amy struggled to peer out from beside Andrew, her gaze immediately falling upon the person standing in the backyard, whose jawline was sharp as a blade, thin lips pressed together, dressed in a tailored dark grey suit with a pristine white shirt collar, and especially those azure eyes that she had inherited.
Her eyes stared intently at Hawke, her voice trembling slightly.
"Andrew..."
"Hawke..."
"That's our son's name!"
When Amy spoke the last sentence, her voice was already tinged with a sob.
After Hawke and Anya were born, they weren't named because Andrew and Amy wanted to wait until the baptism and ask the priest to help with names.
As a result... Hawke's name was revealed by Amy during a conversation with Wanda.
Andrew listened to Amy's words, his body trembling again, and his eyes widened once more as he looked at Hawke standing in the backyard.
This time, he understood.
Why he felt Hawke was familiar; it was because Hawke's nose bridge was exactly inherited from his own lean, prominent nose.
Andrew's voice trembled, his tiger-like eyes fixed on Hawke.
"You... are you really our son?"
"...Yes."
Hawke nodded calmly.
Amy instantly lost her voice, covering her mouth and weeping bitterly.
Hawke looked at Andrew with a calm expression.
He paused.
"Since you're back, then stay."
"This place is pretty good."
"No one will disturb you."
"As for the Death Angel and those two birdmen, I'll handle them."
Hawke said, then turned and disappeared.
Andrew's eyes narrowed sharply, and the moment he took a step towards the backyard, with a bang, his body seemed to hit some transparent barrier, preventing him from leaving.
This is!
He was put under house arrest by his own son?
Andrew, after regaining his balance, widened his eyes.
"Hiss!"
"Hawke has shielded the entire house?"
"...Are you two done watching the show?"
Hawke, who had reappeared in room 123 of Westview, twitched his lips and spoke up, reminding the two women who were still peering out the window, wide-eyed, watching the show.
As his voice fell.
The two women sitting by the window sprang up from their small stools like startled deer.
Gwen turned and looked at Hawke: "So fast?"
Wanda was also a little curious: "You didn't even say a few words to them, did you?"
Hawke remained silent, meeting the gazes of the two women, whose words differed but conveyed the same meaning, and said expressionlessly: "I'm not good with words."
He had always been like this.
He preferred to speak with his fists rather than words.
Both in his previous life and this one.
In his previous life in East Country, he used his fists less, but in this life, before he went to Midtown High School, he had already thrown countless punches.
For himself, and to protect his sister.
At that time, in fights, it was a fifty-fifty chance of winning or losing.
But losing didn't matter. If there were many people, he would grab one person and beat them, focusing on one, with the implicit threat: 'Go ahead and kill me, otherwise, I'll kill you all.'
The most important point.
Parents?
He didn't have any in his previous life, and it seemed he did at first in this life, but Jehovah, that old geezer, messed it up.
Damn it!
Jehovah, you just wait for me. If I don't rip your head off and use it as a urinal, I swear I'll take your last name.
Hawke's thoughts spun.
And just after he explained that he wasn't good with words.
Wanda, hearing this, raised an eyebrow.
Gwen, hearing it, also opened her mouth, then seemed to think of something and chuckled.
Hawke snapped back to reality, looking at Gwen, who was laughing heartily: "Is it that funny?"
Gwen extended her hand: "Sorry, I didn't mean to. You're indeed not very good at talking, I can testify to that. But, you just came back like this, and even imprisoned them, isn't that bad?"
Hawke frowned.
"This is to protect Andrew Chloe, so he doesn't foolishly go to his Death."
"Then you should have just said so."
Gwen said, then shook her head: "Never mind, you come with me, I'll speak for you. Besides, I haven't met Mr. Chloe and Mrs. Chloe yet."
Before, there was only Mrs. Chloe.
Although Gwen wanted to come, Hawke wanted Anya to come herself after she was resurrected, so Gwen didn't insist.
After all, if Hawke didn't come, her presence would also be without proper justification.
But right now.
Mr. Chloe has also arrived, both parents are present. No matter what, she, as his fiancée, must meet them both.
After all... Wanda had already beaten her to her dream, and even met Mrs. Chloe.
So!
Wanda, standing nearby, yawned: "I'm going to check on Billy and Tommy."
With that.
Wanda left the room.
Gwen then lowered her gaze to assess herself, then looked at Hawke: "Before we go, let's go home first. I need to change my clothes."
Hawke frowned, looking at Gwen, who was already dressed very nicely.
An hour later.
Late at night, when all was quiet.
In the dead of night.
Hawke looked at his fiancée, who had spent an hour going back and forth in the walk-in closet, re-dressing: "How about we come tomorrow instead?"
Gwen glanced at Hawke: "No, now. Oh, by the way, how do I look in this? Is it okay?"
Hawke looked at Gwen, who was wearing a neatly tailored beige trench coat, a simple white shirt underneath, and slim-fit jeans, and thought for a moment: "The policewoman outfit that got torn the night before last looked better."
Gwen was silent for a moment, looking at Hawke.
"Go ring the doorbell."
"Okay."
Hawke, seeing his fiancée's Death glare, shrugged and pressed the doorbell at Amy's house.
Soon.
Footsteps were heard from behind the door, but quickly, the door was opened.
After entering the house.
Gwen's small hand, placed behind her back, pinched Hawke.
Hawke understood.
"Amy Chloe."
"Gwen Stacy, my fiancée."
"..."
"Hello, Mrs. Chloe."
Amy was stunned by Hawke's introduction, but Gwen had already shown a sweet smile and was the first to greet Amy Chloe.
Half an hour later.
In the brightly lit living room, on the sofa.
Hawke sat on a high stool at the bar, watching Gwen and Amy on the sofa, already chatting happily and feeling like old friends, a sense of daze washing over him.
Just then.
A somewhat stiff voice, tinged with an attempt at closeness, sounded behind him.
"Would you like a drink?"
"..."
Hawke snapped back to attention, looking at the bar behind him. Because Gwen had just arrived, Amy had sent Andrew to take a shower and change into a well-preserved, never-discarded shirt and faded jeans. Andrew pushed a glass of whiskey towards him, looking at him with a tense and stiff expression.
"I won't be twenty-one until after this year."
"...Sorry."
Andrew's expression froze, and he quickly apologized.
Just then, Gwen, sitting on the sofa, looked at Hawke: "Hawke, a boy's first drink is always given by his father, and besides, we're at home, aren't we?"
Hawke turned his head to look at Gwen, who was smiling gently.
Their eyes met.
He chuckled, then took the whiskey from Andrew's somewhat expectant, seemingly tearful hand, thanked him, and then downed the whiskey in the glass.
Hmm.
It was no different from any other whiskey.
Hawke thought to himself... (End of chapter)
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