On the vast African savannah.
An open-top jeep sped along.
Hawk, sitting in the car, controlled the steering wheel with one hand, glanced at the cheetah chasing his vehicle in the rearview mirror, and held the phone with the other, talking to Gwen, who was still visiting Berlik University.
Today was Gwen's fifteenth day of visiting Berlik.
It was also Hawk's first day in Africa.
Don't ask why he just arrived.
Fifteen days ago, Hawk had just arrived at the Paris airport, preparing to transfer to Africa. He was almost boarding when news came that anti-government forces had taken control of the airport in Africa.
This was sad news.
But even sadder was that this happened three times.
Because the airport Hawk had chosen to land at was relatively close to Wakanda, the rebooked flights naturally also prioritized proximity to Wakanda.
Perhaps because someone set an example, the anti-government forces in the other three small African countries with airports also eagerly joined the fray.
The four small African countries near Wakanda instantly erupted into conflict.
The miraculous matching mechanism of the African region had taken effect.
However…
Hawk eventually arrived in Africa smoothly. Although there were some twists and turns in between, the final result was good.
As for the process?
Just a little hardship.
"Hoo!"
The cheetah, vigorously chasing Hawk behind the jeep with its strong limbs, let out a roar, and with a thud, pounced onto the jeep.
Hawk, who had just finished his call with Gwen, turned his head and slapped the cheetah on its head, sending the newly boarded cheetah flying off the jeep.
The cheetah let out a whimpering cry.
Hawk glanced in the rearview mirror at the cheetah, which had landed, shook its head, seemed fine, but looked dazed. He smiled slightly, then stepped on the gas again, driving towards Wakanda directly ahead.
Rather than calling Wakanda a country, it's more accurate to say Wakanda is a tribal nation composed of several tribes.
At least, that's how it appeared to the outside World.
The current King of Wakanda is T'Chaka, the chief of the Golden Tribe.
The Golden Tribe is also the core tribe of Wakanda; almost every King of Wakanda has come from the Golden Tribe.
This is all public information.
It can be found online.
However, few people in the World pay attention to such a small country. Besides when the current King T'Chaka goes to the United Nations to complain and ask for aid, there might be some news coverage. Otherwise, in everyone's eyes, Wakanda is no different from other transparent small African countries.
And so, Wakanda, while occasionally complaining at United Nations assemblies for aid, secretly developed by occupying vast quantities of Vibranium.
Those unaware might have thought Wakanda was playing the game of 'build high walls, accumulate grain, and slowly claim kingship.'
Until now!
Screech!
Hawk slammed on the brakes; the jeep's tires instantly locked, skidding on the grass, and then stopped in front of a tribe formed by thirty-odd tents.
Several Wakandans, ostensibly there for outward deception but actually belonging to the Merchant Tribe responsible for Wakanda's trade, economy, and foreign affairs, looked at the jeep that had stopped in front of their tribe, exchanging glances.
After Hawk got out of the jeep, he immediately saw the vast forest in the distance, which appeared primitive whether viewed with the naked eye or by satellite.
But…
What Hawk saw after activating his five senses was not that.
He saw a colossal golden dome, like a giant bowl, inverted over the vast forest, whose area combined reached the size of three small African countries.
Sure enough.
He hadn't guessed wrong.
Wakanda was hidden within this undeveloped, primitive jungle marked on the map.
Hawk thought to himself, then retracted his gaze, looking at the several Wakandans emerging from the tribe ahead.
From their appearance, these Wakandans were thin, clearly malnourished, and carried wooden spears.
Whether by appearance, clothing, or weapons, they looked like a primitive tribe, as primitive as could be.
At most, the elderly Wakandan leading them looked a bit healthier, and his clothes were slightly more presentable.
The elderly Wakandan, holding what appeared to be a colorful stick, a symbol of tribal status, led several spear-wielding, vigilant tribesmen to Hawk.
The elderly Wakandan looked at Hawk, composed himself, and smiled slightly, speaking in fluent English, "Outsider, welcome to Wakanda. Are you also here to trade with us?"
As a member of Wakanda's Merchant Tribe,
They were primarily responsible for the circulation of goods among Wakanda's tribes, and also served as Wakanda's first line of defense, disguising themselves as poor Wakandans who were hungry and poorly clothed to interact with the outside World, receiving outsiders who came here, communicating with them, and trading livestock such as cattle and sheep from their tribe.
So, he thought Hawk was also here to trade cattle and sheep.
But Hawk was indeed here to trade.
Hawk smiled as he listened to the elderly Wakandan's words.
"Yes."
"Yesterday, merchants from Shaning bought over a hundred cattle and sheep from us. Now our tribe only has fifty-odd left. How many do you need?"
"One ton!"
Hawk smiled as he told the elderly Wakandan the quantity he needed.
The elderly Wakandan's expression froze as he heard the quantity Hawk stated.
Seeing this, Hawk smiled again and then added, "I want Vibranium, one ton!"
"…"
The previously dazed Wakandan's pupils instantly refocused, his heart jolted, and then he looked up at Hawk with a bewildered expression: "Vibranium? What is that?"
As an elder living in a tribe on the African savannah, it was quite normal for him not to know what Vibranium was.
The several spear-wielding Wakandans behind him also looked at each other, seemingly unaware of what Vibranium was, their faces full of confusion.
Hawk didn't bother with pleasantries. He pulled out his phone, checked the time, then looked up at the elderly Wakandan leading them and said, "It's four o'clock this afternoon. I'm giving you one night. Before seven o'clock tomorrow morning, either you give me the Vibranium, or I'll go in and take it myself. But if I go in myself, you will be responsible for the consequences of whatever happens."
Having said that,
He didn't bother to continue communicating with these Wakandans, who clearly couldn't make decisions. He reopened the jeep door, got in, lowered the driver's seat, and lay down directly, crossing his arms and closing his eyes to rest and recuperate before the big battle.
Outside the car door.
After Hawk ignored them and got back into the car, the elderly Wakandan unconsciously squeezed the stick in his hand.
Several Wakandans looked at Hawk through the car window, who seemed to be asleep, and exchanged glances.
The next second.
A Wakandan lowered his voice, but just as he was about to speak, the elderly Wakandan shot him a sharp look, instantly silencing him.
After a while,
The elderly Wakandan led the several Wakandans back into one of the tents in the disguised tribe.
Several Wakandans, as if seeing an outsider for the first time, stood in the tribe, looking curiously, wanting to approach yet afraid, at the jeep parked not far away.
It must be said,
Their acting was excellent.
After all, their acting was so superb that even the Five Great Benefactors were deceived, truly believing Wakanda was poor and allocating poverty relief funds to Wakanda every year.
Unfortunately…
They met Hawk.
A Transcender who ignored their acting and went straight to the truth.
Night soon fell.
A bonfire was lit in the Wakandan tribe, as if some event was taking place, and many Wakandans gathered around the bonfire, celebrating.
However…
As they laughed and chatted, the corners of their eyes watched the unlit jeep parked outside the tribe.
As the sounds of laughter continued, several people seemed to forget to switch to their local language and continued to whisper in English.
"Is he still in the car?"
"Yes."
"In Wakandan."
"It's fine, he's too far away to hear."
"Is he still lying down?"
"Yes, he's been lying in the car without moving since he got in this afternoon."
"Where's Lunn?"
"He went home."
"Okay, then we'll wait for news and keep watching."
"Okay."
As the whispering ended, the conversing individuals seamlessly rejoined the impromptu sleepless night bonfire party.
Hawk, sleeping inside the jeep, took in their whispers, a slight smile playing on his lips. He then ignored them, his mind sinking into his Little Universe, where under the interplay of dragon and Phoenix, the still unattainable door to the Sixth Sense once again appeared before his eyes.
The next day.
Early morning.
Hawk pushed open the car door, got out, stretched, and after loosening his muscles and bones, pulled out his phone, checked the time, then found an open space and began his daily habit of ten thousand punches.
In the tribe, inside a tent near Hawk, two Wakandans were peeking through a small hole, observing Hawk punching the air.
After a while,
Footsteps were heard outside the tent.
It was Lunn, the elderly Wakandan.
Lunn, who had gone home during the night to report the situation, returned again with a dozen Wakandans and once again walked out of the tribe.
Don't ask why he had to go home to report.
Just say their acting was on point.
In a primitive tribe, communication relies on shouting.
Just as the elderly Wakandan named Lunn was about to leave the tribe to drive Hawk away, another jeep appeared in the distance.
Is it his accomplice?
The elderly Wakandan stopped, thinking as he watched the scene.
Hawk also saw the jeep approaching.
At the same time…
He also saw the driver in the jeep.
Bruce Banner!
…
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