American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 131 Clark: How dare you mention my family?!
Chloe's eyes were glistening with tears.
Like a tiny thorn, it pierced through all the fleeting pleasures of the past.

During their subsequent stroll, an invisible veil seemed to separate Clark and Lana; their conversations became brief, and their smiles appeared somewhat forced.

They even found themselves at the edge of the town square without realizing it.

Beyond that were dimly lit paths leading to the farm and the houses.

"Clark," Lana said cautiously, glancing at the silent Clark. "It seems to be getting late... I... I should go back. What about you?"

Upon hearing this, Clark seemed to awaken from a dream.

He looked at Lana, nodded, and his tone returned to its usual gentleness, even revealing a barely perceptible weariness:

"Yes, it's getting late. I... I should go back too."

He no longer had that unbridled arrogance, as if that haughty homecoming king was just a fleeting moment.

"Well... goodbye, Clark. Thank you for tonight."

Lana said softly, glancing at him with a complex expression, a mixture of unspoken words and a hint of worry.

He turned around, glancing back every few steps.

He slowly walked towards his aunt's house, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the street.

Clark stood there until the girl's figure completely disappeared around the street corner before he slowly turned around and stepped onto the dark dirt road leading to the farm.

The cool night breeze swept by, slightly cooling his feverish mind.

As he walked, he unconsciously rubbed the dark red ring on his finger.

The cool touch gradually calmed his chaotic thoughts.

Tonight...

Something is definitely not right.

How could he say such hurtful things to Chloe?
Penguin Lady
And there's that uncontrollable urge to show off and cause destruction...

Is this still you?

"Hey! Clark Kent!"

But before he could sort out his chaotic thoughts—

An angry voice boomed from the shadows in front of him.

A muscular figure in a football jersey strode out and blocked the middle of the road.

Clark stopped in his tracks.

The streetlights were dim, so he couldn't see the person's face clearly at first, but he could tell that the other person's tone was extremely unfriendly.

"you are?"

His voice clearly showed his impatience at being interrupted.

"I am?!"

The newcomer seemed utterly enraged by the question, and in a fit of rage, he laughed, taking a sudden step forward so the light illuminated his furious face. "I am Whitney Fordman! You better remember that!"

"I don't care who you are."

Clark's irritation was reignited, and he said coldly, "What's the matter? If not, don't block the way."

"Hey…"

The newcomer was clearly enraged by his contemptuous attitude, his forehead veins bulging. He could no longer hold back, let out a low growl, and raised his huge fist to smash it hard towards Clark's face!
"What the hell are you pretending for!"

"boom!"

There was a muffled sound.

The punch, which was meant to land, didn't touch Clark's cheek. Instead, it was caught firmly in mid-air by a stronger hand!
The force was astonishing, like an iron clamp, squeezing Whitney's wrist bone until it ached!
“You better…” Clark didn’t even flinch; he just frowned, his eyes filled with disgust. “Show me some respect, you gorilla whoever came from.”

"?!"

Whitney was astonished by the opponent's strength and speed, but was overwhelmed by the humiliation and anger.

Without hesitation, he raised his right leg high and delivered a fierce side kick straight for Clark's waist and abdomen!

"You asked for it!"

Clark gave a cold shout, and with a sudden burst of strength, he flung the wrist to the side!
"throat!!"

Mr. Gorilla felt an overwhelming force that he could not resist. He instantly lost his weight and was easily lifted up like a bag of garbage. He screamed and flew out, crashing heavily into a field a few meters away, rolling around in the dirt.

"Damn."

He cried out in pain, struggled to his feet, and was both shocked and furious.

"guys!"

With her face covered in dirt and humiliation, Whitney growled at the shadows around her:

"Let's teach this kid a lesson!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a flurry of footsteps sounded.

Several figures emerged from the shadows of the roadside bushes, each carrying a weapon—

Wrench, baseball bat, crowbar, shovel...

There was even a guy carrying a hoe that he had obviously grabbed from somewhere.

They were clearly prepared, quickly forming a semi-circle and blocking Clark in the middle of the road.

The tools gleamed with an unfriendly luster in the dim light.

“Kent, you little devil!” Whitney grinned as he straightened up, dusting himself off. “Don’t blame me! Blame yourself for taking my place and stealing Lana!”

He roared, venting all the resentment that had been building up over the past few months.

"Your location?"

Clark frowned; upon hearing this, he suddenly remembered.

Pete seems to have mentioned that a guy named Whitney accidentally knocked himself out of the game during the football tryouts and ended up having to go to the soccer team instead.

And it seems...

Is he pursuing Lana?
"Stolen?"

His eyes turned cold, chilling to the bone.

"When did Lana become an object? She belongs to herself."

Clark was extremely displeased to hear that someone regarded Lana as something to be fought over.

Even the red stone on his finger involuntarily began to gleam, as if echoing his inner feelings.

"Cut the fucking nonsense!"

Whitney roared, "Get them! Men!"

Before he could finish speaking, a guy with a shovel rushed up and swung it at Clark's head!

The wind was howling; if this were filmed accurately, an ordinary person's head would definitely crack open!
Upon seeing this, a cold glint flashed in Clark's eyes, and he no longer held back.

He easily dodged the whistling shovel to the side, his movement so fast it left only a blur. Then, in the instant the shovel missed its target, his left hand flashed out, precisely grabbing the wet wooden handle and pulling it sharply towards him!
The attacker felt his hand being torn apart and could not hold on at all; the shovel was instantly handed over to him!

Clark didn't even use the weapon; he simply tossed it into the darkness some distance away like scrap metal, making a loud clang. At the same time, his right fist, like a cannonball, struck the man's abdomen with tremendous force!
"vomit--!"

The attacker's eyes bulged out suddenly, and he nearly vomited stomach acid and his dinner.

His body was bent over like a painful shrimp, and he collapsed to the ground like limp mud without uttering a sound, completely losing consciousness.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye!
Before anyone else could react, Clark had already moved again!
He was no longer the one being surrounded; like a black lightning bolt, he charged towards the mob wielding weapons!
如.
Tiger into the flock!

"Wow——!"

A baseball bat came crashing down on him.

Clark raised his hand to block, causing his forearm to collide with the hard wood, producing a dull thud that made your teeth ache.

"boom!"

The baseball bat snapped in two! The man holding the bat stared in disbelief, his face frozen in shock. Before he could even utter a cry of alarm, Clark delivered a casual side kick to his chest, sending him flying backward and crashing into a roadside tree!
"crash"

Leaves fell, burying it within.

"call--!"

Something else silently hit the back of his head!

But Clark seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, swiftly ducking to dodge!

His right elbow, like a dart, lashed backward and struck precisely into the attacker's knee.

"what!!!"

Painful cries immediately echoed across the fields.

"Let him go! You bastard!"

A crowbar?

Something swept towards me with a cold wind!

Clark reached out and grabbed the cold metal, twisting it forcefully, turning the holy sword of physics into a pretzel with his bare hands!

Then, with a backhand flick, he sent the man and his scrap metal flying, knocking down another accomplice who had just rushed up!

As for the last remaining hoe
The guy had gone mad, swinging his hoe wildly, trying to stop Clark from getting closer.

Clark didn't even bother to dodge; he simply stepped forward and let the hoe hit his shoulder.

"boom!"

The thick wooden handle snapped as if it had hit a rock, sending wood chips flying everywhere.

With a blank expression, Clark reached out, grabbed the guy's sweaty collar, and lifted him like a frightened chick, casually tossing him aside, accurately knocking down the last opponent who was trying to get up.

Concise, efficient, and ruthless movements.
Less than a minute.

The five or six men who had been so aggressive just moments before were now lying on the ground, groaning in pain, their weapons scattered everywhere, having lost all fighting ability.

Whitney
He was the last person who could still barely stand.

As Clark approached him step by step, like a god descending to earth, the sinister smile on his face was long gone.
All that remained was boundless fear and horror.

He retreated step by step, his legs trembling.

"Strange...monster..."

Whitney stammered, then turned and tried to run away.

But Clark is faster.

In the blink of an eye, the figure appeared like a ghost, silently blocking his retreat.

He reached out, not with a fist, but with just a finger, and gently touched his forehead.

That finger seemed to contain immense force, preventing him from taking another step back.

“Listen, Mr. Gorilla.”

Clark's voice was icy cold, devoid of any warmth, and exceptionally clear in the silent night, "Don't ever appear before me again, or else..."

Use your fingers slightly.

Whitney felt a tremendous fear grip him, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

Almost subconsciously, he nodded in agreement with Clark's words.

Seeing this, Clark withdrew his finger and coldly uttered a single word:

"roll."

"Also, stay away from her in the future."

"?!"

roll.
It doesn't matter.

But stay away from her.
Obviously
These words were like a poisonous thorn, piercing Whitney's last remaining fragile self-esteem.

The resentment he felt for not getting Lana, now turned into anger at being humiliated by Clark.

In this extreme fear, a kind of reckless madness was born.

He stood up shakily, and facing Clark's retreating figure that was about to disappear into the darkness, he roared with all his might:
"You think you're so tough, Clark Kent!"

"What good is fighting skills! In this world, what matters is power, connections, and influence!"

I know you have a younger brother!

"It's that brat named Salafir, isn't it?!"

"He goes to the town's primary school, right?"

"."

Clark stopped in his tracks.

All movements froze instantly.

His emotions, which had calmed slightly after venting, were now even more...
He slowly turned around. His eyes, which faintly glowed red in the darkness, swept over his surroundings.

—The evening breeze swept across the farmland, and a few tattered scarecrows, used to scare away birds, stood forlornly on the ridges, casting bizarre, long shadows in the moonlight.

just.

"?!"

Whitney's heart nearly stopped when she was stared at by those inhuman eyes.

But the words had already been spoken, and there was no turning back.

He could only continue his ferocious but ultimately cowardly screaming, desperately trying to convince himself—

This is Clark Kent, that famously overly kind-hearted good-natured man who doesn't dare to actually die...

This guy.
Do you really dare to kill them...?

?
"What? Scared? Let me tell you, Clark! If you dare touch me, I guarantee your brother..."

He didn't finish his sentence.

Because of him.
I saw Clark move.

His steps were steady, with an eerie ease.
-
After a while.

"Now."

Clark's voice was terrifyingly calm, yet more threatening than any roar: "Did you all remember that?"

Whitney completely broke down.

He nodded frantically, his face covered in tears and snot, unable to even beg for mercy.

Seeing this, Clark was also satisfied.

He then stopped looking at him and his companions, as if they were nothing more than a filth on the roadside.

He immediately turned around and stepped onto the dark dirt road home.

"call--"

The evening breeze ruffled his hair, calming the restlessness in Clark's heart considerably.
Even the red stone ring seemed to shimmer with an eerie yet satisfying red light under the moonlight.

As for what's behind
That empty farmland, now only a few scarecrows remain.

Who cares?

He secured the result he wanted, and that was enough.

The means? The process? That's not important.

The important thing is to achieve the goal.

Humming an off-key tune, Clark's steps were light and carefree, unlike when he arrived, and he was in an exceptionally cheerful mood.

The fields have returned to calm.
Obviously not.

Just moments later, two more figures appeared at the entrance to the path.

It's a blonde woman and a short-haired guy who doesn't stand out much.

“.woowoo”

The girl was still sobbing softly, her shoulders trembling slightly with her crying.

Pete, meanwhile, offered a helpless word of comfort.

"How could he...how could he say that to me..."

Wiping away tears with her wide sleeves, Chloe sobbed as she accused, "He called me 'Miss Penguin'? And he shook off my hand! As if I were some kind of trouble! I wasn't trying to ruin things between him and Lana... I just wanted to take a picture..."

"Alright, alright, Chloe, stop crying."

Pitt clumsily tried to excuse his brother:
"Clark... he might just be a little... a little too excited tonight? You know, being the Homecoming King and going on a date with Lana... maybe his mind just wasn't quite right? He definitely didn't mean it, it was unintentional, absolutely! How could he possibly call you 'Miss Penguin'?"

It would have been better if he hadn't explained.
This explanation made Chloe even more speechless, and her tears fell even harder.

"Unintentional? His eyes didn't look intentional at all! He's never acted like that before! I'm going to find Uncle Locke! I'm going to tell him Clark bullied me! Waaah—!"

The more she thought about it, the more aggrieved she felt, and she cried even louder.

It seemed that only by complaining to that farmer uncle could they quell their sadness and disappointment.

However, just as she was crying so hard her vision blurred and she couldn't control herself—

Through her teary eyes, she also saw what lay ahead.
The crying stopped abruptly.

It felt like an invisible hand had suddenly grabbed my throat.

All the grievances and sadness were replaced by a sudden fear.

Her eyes widened suddenly, her mouth opened slightly, but she couldn't make a sound.

“Pete…Pete!” Her voice trembled uncontrollably.

"What's wrong?!"

Startled by her sudden reaction, Pete instinctively looked ahead in the direction of her gaze.
next second.

The half-eaten hot dog in Pete's hand fell to the ground.

He froze completely, the color draining from his face instantly, his mouth agape wide enough to fit an egg.

In the farmland not far ahead, the wooden stakes that should have been used to support tattered scarecrows...

At this moment, several men with their upper bodies naked were tied up!

"!?"

They were as if their shirts had been brutally stripped off by some enormous force, and then, in an extremely humiliating and painful posture, they were tightly bound with rough hemp rope to the wooden stakes where the scarecrows had been placed!
They all hung their heads, seemingly unconscious and silent.

The pale moonlight shone on their bare upper bodies, creating a terrifying scene.

A gentle evening breeze blew by, causing the bound figures to sway slightly, producing the creaking sound of ropes rubbing against wood…

This scene is more terrifying than any scene in a horror movie or even a nightmare!

"This...this is...!"

Pete's voice was dry and trembling, and he could barely utter a complete sentence.

He recognized one of them—

It was none other than Whitney, who had been so arrogant and domineering not long ago!
Aren't they the ones who always bully others?! How come they're being used as bullies and subjected to traditional pranks?
Could it be that? !

A bold and chilling conjecture struck him instantly.

At this point in time, on this path, who else could possess such terrifying power to accomplish all of this...?

The answer is almost obvious.

Pete abruptly shut his mouth, a chill running through his body.

that's all.
One person was terrified, while the other dared not utter a sound.

"rustle…"

The dense grass next to them suddenly moved very slightly.

In that deep shadow where no one can see...

A pair of eyes, faintly reflecting a dim light, were staring at them intently.

Or…

He bypassed the two men and was now firmly focused on the thugs who were tied to the wooden stakes.
-
"Clang."

The Kent family's front door was pushed open smoothly, and Clark walked in, bringing with him the chill of the night, a hint of lingering languor on his face...

A kind of calm that follows an indescribable excitement.

Jonathan, who was watching the evening agricultural news in the living room, looked up and habitually flashed a mischievous smile:

"Hey kid, how was your date tonight? Did you get kicked out of someone's house?"

Clark slammed the door shut, not even pausing, and walked straight to the stairwell, casually tossing out a sentence:
"pretty good."

"?!"

Jonathan's smile froze instantly, and he blinked in surprise.

This left him speechless for a moment.

He expected to see his adopted son, as usual, display a shy and embarrassed expression and stammer in response.
However.
This reaction…

That's too calm, isn't it? Even a little... perfunctory?
Is this still the same Clark who blushes when this kind of thing is mentioned?
The commotion in the living room naturally didn't escape the notice of Martha, who was knitting a sweater.

She looked up, her sharp gaze lingering for a moment on her son's back, catching a glimpse of an unusual sense of estrangement.

However, he only smiled gently:
"Have fun, Clark. It's getting late, go take a shower and go to bed. Don't you have your homecoming coronation ceremony tomorrow? Be more alert."

"Okay." Clark stepped onto the stairs, shrugged upon hearing this, seemingly unconcerned about the honor of being 'crowned king,' and waved without turning his head: "Goodbye, Mom."

After saying that, he strode upstairs, leaving Jonathan and Martha staring at each other in the living room.

Jonathan stroked his chin, his brow furrowed, and pondered for a moment.
"This child...something's wrong."

"?"

Martha's heart skipped a beat, and she stopped knitting. She quickly asked:

"What's wrong? What's wrong?"

She also felt that her son seemed a bit too...

Things have calmed down a bit.

He turned to his wife with a serious expression, and Jonathan lowered his voice: "He didn't say goodnight to us!"

"..."

Martha rolled her eyes at her husband, utterly speechless.
"Jonathan! Can't you think about something serious?"

"..."

Choked by his wife's retort, Jonathan awkwardly shrugged.

"I was just concerned about him... Think about it, he would have said it sooner or later before." He tried to explain, but his tone had weakened. "Do you think... is this kid entering his rebellious phase?"

"childish."

Martha shook her head and picked up her knitting needles again. "I think you're overthinking it. Go to sleep, you have to get up early tomorrow."

"I hope I'm overthinking it."

Jonathan chuckled, scratched his head, and tried to dispel the inexplicable unease in his heart.

He also felt that he might be being a little too sensitive.

After all, apart from his superhuman physique, Clark was just an ordinary kid.

He will be happy, sad, upset, and angry.
There will be emotional ups and downs; it's impossible to always be sunny and cheerful.

Of course, you can't be like the sun all day long.

even
The sun occasionally has eclipses, doesn't it?

……

"Clang, clang, thud."

Clark walked into his room and closed the door behind him.

I tugged at my collar and felt a lingering warmth on my body.

He deftly removed his denim shirt and T-shirt, revealing his naturally strong and well-defined upper body muscles.

Then she walked to the desk and habitually took off the dark red ring on her finger.

"Om-!"

The moment the cold metal ring leaves the skin…

Nothing happened.

Clark blinked.

"Take a shower, go to sleep..."

He muttered something, casually placed the ring he had taken off on the desk, and turned to walk into the bathroom.

"Crash-!"

Soon, the sound of water came from the bathroom.

On the desk behind him, there was a red stone ring that had lost its wearer.
It just lay there quietly.

The eerie luster on its surface seemed to have lost its source of energy, and it dimmed rapidly at a speed visible to the naked eye…

In the end, it became an ordinary stone that just looked unusual in color.

It lay there silently, without making a sound.

(End of this chapter)