One thousand days.
Two years, nine months, and five days.
After completing today's task, Hawk, showering in the gym locker room, once again summoned the cheat interface visible only to him. Looking at the progress bar that was just one day away from completion and activating "Cosmo Cultivation," he still felt as though he were dreaming.
After all...
Throwing ten thousand punches every day for a thousand consecutive days sounded easy, but it was incredibly difficult in practice.
Sometimes, Hawk did not even know how he had managed to persist.
Maybe it was because he had always hated losing?
Or perhaps it had something to do with this being the Marvel Universe.
Hawk did not know.
But...
One thing was certain.
"One day."
"Just one more day."
Once today was over, he could activate his cheat tomorrow.
"Cosmo Cultivation..."
"I wonder if it's what I think it is."
Hawk pondered this inwardly.
In his memories, there was only one thing that could be associated with "Cosmo Cultivation."
If it really was what he thought it was...
Then...
The future was promising!
According to the Ancient Greek philosopher Democritus, all things were composed of atoms, and a miniature universe likewise existed within the human body.
That was the Cosmo!
Cultivating the Cosmo meant continuously stimulating the fundamental energy of one's life, successfully awakening the hidden Cosmo within one's body, continuously cultivating it to strengthen it, then burning that Cosmo to obtain combat power that surpassed the laws of physics.
Hawk remembered an anime from his previous life that was about the Cosmo.
That anime was called—
Saint Seiya!
Bronze Saints who controlled the first five senses and touched upon the Sixth Sense.
Silver Saints who comprehended the Sixth Sense and touched upon the Seventh Sense.
And Gold Saints who comprehended and completely mastered the Seventh Sense.
But above the Seventh Sense lay the Eighth Sense, and even the Ninth Sense...
Fragments of memories from that Saint Seiya series drifted through Hawk's mind.
The next second.
Hawk came back to himself. Seemingly recalling something, he shook his head and smiled.
He was not even sure whether the Cosmo from his cheat was the same one from his memories. Why was he thinking so much about it?
Besides...
He had no intention of punching Odin or kicking Zeus.
Most importantly.
He had been transported to this world for seventeen years. Even before his cheat had come online, before he turned fifteen, he had already prepared himself mentally to face this bloody world without one.
So...
"Mindset is important."
"The greater my expectations now, the greater my disappointment will be if it isn't."
Thinking this, Hawk brushed the distracting thoughts from his mind, wrung out his washed T-shirt, placed it in a plastic bag along with his freshly washed pants, then wrapped himself in a bath towel. As he dried his hair with another towel, he pushed open the stall door.
Thud!
The locker room door was pushed open, and a somewhat skinny figure seemed to be shoved in from outside.
The skinny figure staggered several steps before landing on his butt and falling onto the locker room's tiled floor.
"This is..."
"Peter?"
Hawk raised an eyebrow as he looked at The original Spider-Man, who had been shoved inside and had fallen flat on his butt.
Peter also spotted Hawk emerging from the shower area.
His expression was somewhat awkward.
Just as he was about to greet Hawk, a fellow student in the same grade whom he had barely ever interacted with, laughter came from outside the door.
Immediately afterward, Flash Thompson—nicknamed "Lightning," also known as the Midtown Bully, a tall, burly guy who was the captain of the school football team—walked in with three lackeys, laughing as he carried a football.
The next second.
The laughter abruptly stopped.
Hawk, who had just emerged from the stall with one hand drying his wet hair and the other holding the plastic bag containing his washed clothes, a bath towel wrapped around his lower body, also fixed his gaze on Flash Thompson after he entered.
Flash Thompson was tall and burly.
Hawk was no less impressive.
After maintaining his routine for nine hundred and ninety-nine straight days, throwing ten thousand punches every day, Hawk had developed a body of lean, hardened muscle.
And unlike the muscles those people at gyms outside built with supplements and empty bravado, his were different.
The lines of his arms were filled with strength—not exaggeratedly bulging, but refined and packed with explosive power.
The bath towel was tied around his waist, leaving a faint indentation above his hipbones and making his narrow waist look even more defined. The contours of his abs were clearly visible, eight evenly arranged blocks like carefully sculpted armor.
Their gazes met.
The air seemed to freeze in that instant.
As everyone knew.
There was a very clear hierarchy of contempt—or rather, bullying—in United States schools.
By all rights, Hawk, an orphan with no father or mother, should have been among those who got bullied based on his family circumstances alone.
Unfortunately, that was not the case.
It was not because he had dealt with the school bullies before and they knew he was not someone to mess with.
The reason the school bullies did not provoke him was simple.
After all...
Whether it was his looks or his physique, Hawk could never be associated with the words "easy target."
Of course.
Over the past three years, the school bullies had not bothered him, and he naturally had no desire to stand up for anyone else.
No one was anyone else's savior.
This time was no exception.
Hawk withdrew his gaze, took a clean T-shirt and pair of pants from the backpack on the bench and changed into them. After putting the plastic bag into his backpack, he slung it over one shoulder and walked toward Flash Thompson, who stood at the locker room entrance.
Flash Thompson frowned as he watched Hawk approach him.
He knew Hawk.
After all, it was hard not to know someone who threw ten thousand punches by himself in a corner of the gym every day and had kept it up for more than two years.
But they were not familiar at all.
Hawk never attended any gatherings or parties. Though they saw each other at school every day, Hawk seemed to live alone in some parallel world.
Flash Thompson watched Hawk stop in front of him.
"Hawk..."
"Please move."
"..."
Flash Thompson instinctively stepped aside. His three lackeys behind him had originally wanted to say something, but the instant they met Hawk's azure eyes, which seemed indifferent to everything, they too followed their instincts and moved aside.
"Thanks."
Hawk calmly thanked Flash Thompson for making way, then left the locker room on his own.
Flash Thompson watched Hawk's receding figure vanish, frowning as he wondered what he was thinking.
Just then.
The three lackeys cried out in surprise.
"Holy shit."
"Boss, Peter got away."
"What?"
Flash Thompson came back to his senses. Seeing Peter Parker, who had slipped out behind Hawk while he was not paying attention, he immediately realized what had happened and roared.
"Go after him."
"Nerd Parker, stop right there."
"..."
Before you continue