According to logic.
The convenience store is on this street, so Andrew actually has no reason to park on another street.
But today, one end of the convenience store's street was closed due to a road collapse, and if you come from the other end, you need to first get on the overpass and then come down from it, which is a bit of a detour.
Andrew didn't want to waste gas money.
Of course.
If he didn't want to take the detour, he could also drive through a relatively wide alley next to the street, then come to this street.
Once again.
Andrew, despite having a beard that makes him look fierce, is actually a rule-abiding man.
Even by Eastern Country standards.
Put it this way.
Andrew Crowe is quite a qualified worker.
Moreover, he's one of those top-tier workers, the kind who needs only a carrot in front of them and occasionally some hay, with no need for a whip; they'll move on their own.
In short!
Because Andrew follows the rules and doesn't want to use the non-motor vehicle lane, and also because he wants to save on gas money and doesn't want to detour, he parked his car on a street that requires crossing an alley, and then went through the alley to shop at the convenience store.
But he did not know that this alley would be the end of his time.
After following Andrew out of the convenience store, Hawk watched him, with a happy smile on his face after purchasing things for his son and daughter, ready to walk toward the end of his time.
He thought about it and chose not to call out to Andrew.
Because it's pointless.
Things that have already happened in the past are destined to happen.
And even if you change them, it would only create a brand new parallel world line.
Simply put.
Modifying the past equals copy-paste, not cut-paste.
The past cannot be changed!
But Hawk roughly understands why the time loophole here can't self-repair automatically and needs manual repair.
Time here does not have a closed loop.
But he sees now that there's no trace of intrusion.
Furthermore.
Even if there was an intrusion, the enemy should be targeting him, not Andrew.
Hawk thought about this as he watched Andrew walk into the alley.
Just as Andrew walked toward the alley, two nervous-looking white men, one tall and one thin, ran in from the other end.
Their eyes met.
"Get out of the way."
"Fuck."
Andrew stood there, watching this scene, somewhat dumbfounded.
It was precisely this moment of hesitation that might have caused the two white men running in from the other end to misunderstand something; without a word, they raised their hands and pulled the trigger thrice, the bullets striking Andrew.
Andrew fell to the ground, landing in a wet puddle in the alley, disbelief in his eyes, but his hands still tightly clutching the shopping bags for his son and daughter.
As for the two white men, one tall and one thin, after shooting Andrew, they quickly stepped over the fallen Andrew, then rushed past Hawk standing at the alley entrance, quickly fleeing toward the other end of the street.
At this moment.
Two patrol officers also appeared at the alley entrance, got out of their car, and upon seeing Andrew lying in a pool of blood in the alley, couldn't help but curse, and began calling for support and an ambulance.
But it's already unnecessary.
Because Andrew is already dead.
The only thing to be grateful for is that Andrew did not feel much pain when he breathed his last.
Hawk also recorded the aura of those white shooters, withdrew his gaze from their escaping figures, and then, with a calm expression, turned and left.
Meanwhile.
From the rooftop of a tall building in this block, overlooking the whole scene in the alley.
A middle-aged man in a suit and tie, wearing glasses with gold rims, saw Andrew, who had died, as well as the leaving drunkard, smiled slightly with his thin, cool lips.
"Enjoying the view?"
"..."
The middle-aged man's body trembled, hearing the calm voice from behind, he turned around.
Bang!
Three pairs of wings as white as snow exploded, and while punching at Hawk who appeared unbeknownst to him, feathers from the wings shot densely toward Hawk like bullets.
Hawk stepped forward with his right foot, whoosh, as if suddenly teleporting to the man's front, then reached out with his right hand, clasping the man's neck, and instantly lifted him off the ground.
In the next second.
"Boom!"
The man's back smashed into the wall heavily, instantly creating a human-shaped hole in the wall.
"Birdman!"
Hawk looked at the three pairs of wings behind the man, squinted his eyes, boundless killing intent flashed in his gaze: "Yahweh!"
He initially thought the loophole here was born from his subconscious curiosity to know who killed Andrew.
Hawk never thought someone had invaded his timeline.
Because…
If someone invaded his timeline, it must be to deal with him, and he was still perfectly fine.
Unexpectedly, this timeline was truly invaded.
He found something amiss in Andrew's moment of hesitation; at that moment, a familiar yet repulsive aura seemed to shroud Andrew, causing him to fail to dodge, leading to his tragic death.
And the mastermind is the birdman in front of him.
But Hawk couldn't quite understand.
This is his timeline, even if Yahweh wanted to send angels across time to kill him, they should strike at the infant version of him now; why killed Andrew instead.
What good does killing Andrew do them?
...Wait!
Hawk suddenly remembers something crucial.
His timeline may originate from that room, but the starting point of his memory is not that room, but rather the church doorway.
This is also why he's certain that his sister Anya is his blood-related sister.
Because when he opened his eyes, he found himself sharing a cradle with his sister Anya, right at the church doorway.
Heaven!
Angels!
Church!
Hawk's thoughts raced, as if he had thought of a possibility.
In 2015, he chopped off Yahweh's projection, and killed Yahweh's angel Michael in the Hell Dimension.
But Yahweh seemed to appreciate him, wanting to convert him into his War Angel, so he sent this angel before him across the timeline to change him.
By killing Andrew, making Amy destitute, so that she had no choice but to send him and his sister to Saint Paul's Church.
In this way, Hawk's faith and loyalty to the church could be nurtured from a young age.
So...
Time loop.
He kills Yahweh, Yahweh sends an angel across the timeline to kill Andrew, Amy places him and Anya at the church doorway...
After all, children taken in by the church have a pretty good faith in Heaven.
But there was a small problem.
Hawk was not indigenous. At the moment he landed at the church doorway, he already awakened his past life memory.
And in his past life, it was Tokyo University, a nation that practiced pragmatic faith.
To put it simply!
When the eggs stop, faith resets to zero.
So even though he performed exceptionally well in the church and was a member of the choir, appearing to have simple faith.
But in reality, Hawk didn't care at all.
Hawk's mind spun.
And the Birdman in his grasp, upon hearing Hawk directly call Yahweh's name, furiously roared, "Dare to call my lord's name directly, heretic..."
"Slap!"
"Damn heretic..."
"Slap, slap!"
"I want to kill..."
"Rip!"
"Ah!"
The Birdman shrieked piercingly.
Hawk casually tossed aside the wing he had torn from the Birdman, then looked at the screaming Birdman, expressionless.
"Why did Yahweh send you."
"Pah!"
The Birdman spat at Hawk, looking like someone who could be killed but not humiliated.
But his spittle was intercepted by Hawk's telekinesis.
Hawk was straightforward, without a word, grabbed the Birdman's wing again with his left hand and pulled hard. In an instant, the Birdman's wing, along with a chunk of flesh, was directly torn off.
The Birdman shrieked again.
But...
Hawk gripped the Birdman's throat tightly, preventing him from even voicing his screams.
A sharp pain came from behind, and the throat, as if caught by a vice, made him struggle like a chicken with its neck wrung, legs flailing in the air.
The remaining left wing and three right wings flapped wildly.
As ridiculous as it looked, it was just that ridiculous.
Hawk then relaxed his grip on the Birdman's neck.
"Talk!"
"Heretic..."
"Thud!"
"Talk!"
"Never!"
"Fine!"
"Thud!"
"Thud, thud—!"
Hawk sneered, directly tearing out the Birdman's wings along with flesh, then tossing them aside onto the ground.
At the moment the Birdman's wings hit the ground, they turned into white mist.
At the same time!
As Hawk pulled out one wing after another from the Birdman, the blood gushing from the Birdman's wounds gradually changed from golden to blood red.
And when Hawk pulled out the Birdman's last wing, the Birdman's flowing blood had already completely become indistinguishable from a mortal's blood.
Hawk then discarded the Birdman just like throwing away trash, tossing him onto the floor beside him.
The next moment!
As the Birdman's back hit the ground, a piercing scream came again. The Birdman instinctively turned himself over, exposing his back to Hawk's eyes.
A sight.
The Birdman's back was now pitted and bloodied.
But...
Hawk looked at the pitted part of the Birdman's back, a spot he had torn, his expression pausing.
The next second.
Hawk forcibly flipped the Birdman over again, his toes pressing against the Birdman's throat, seriously examining the Birdman's appearance.
He attempted to see what this Birdman would look like when he aged!
...