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A Saint does not retreat.
Neither does Hawk.
As the Demon Hulk charged, the air itself seemed to part before its brutish force, letting out a deafening roar.
One hundred meters. Closed in an instant.
"HUUUULK!!!"
The Demon Hulk roared, swinging a fist the size of a small car, not at Hawk—but at the very ground he stood on.
In that last second, Hawk’s form blurred and vanished.
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