Johannesburg, South Africa.
The afternoon sun blazed overhead, gilding this African metropolis's steel jungle in dazzling gold.
The air was filled with a distinctive blend of scents:
the charred aroma of street vendors' grilled corn, the faint sting of car exhaust, and the pungency of some spicy seasoning drifting over from afar.
Johannesburg was not the tribal savanna of stereotypical imagination, but a vibrant modern urban jungle.
Towering glass-curtain skyscrapers mingled with low, brightly colored markets roofed in corrugated metal, creating a striking visual contrast.
The streets were narrow and noisy. Beneath graffiti-covered walls, small vendors pushed carts piled high with tropical fruit and handicrafts.
Mosque minarets stood beside modern shopping centers, while elderly men in traditional robes brushed past fashionably dressed youths.
Rhythmic African beats played over the radio. Everything brimmed with exotic vitality and chaotic rhythm.
That tranquil foreign charm was completely torn apart by a hellish roar.
"Bang! Rumble—!"
The wall of a building on the corner was smashed apart like paper!
Rubble, glass, and twisted rebar exploded outward.
Amid the billowing dust, a completely emerald-green giant—Hulk
appeared, filled with pure rage.
Every heavy breath he took carried searing white vapor, while inhuman red light burned in his eyes—the uncontrolled fury warped by Wanda's magic.
Vehicles were swung around in his hands like toys.
They smashed through the bulletproof glass of a bank building.
His massive fist slammed furiously into the ground. The asphalt cracked and buckled as though struck by an earthquake, forming vicious trenches.
His body itself was a weapon.
As he charged recklessly forward, a corrugated-metal shed packed with motorcycles became like bowling pins struck by a ball, twisting and collapsing in an instant as the shriek of bending metal rang without end.
A small stall selling traditional woven goods and spices was trampled