American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 164 Morpheus's Premonition; The Man Who Raises Penguins in Antarctica.

"dad--!"

Clark's scream ripped through the farm's night sky. He knelt down beside Jonathan, at a loss for what to do, wanting to do something but afraid that his uncontrolled power would hurt his adoptive father.

Martha was so frightened that her face turned pale and she almost fainted. She was able to stand up only by supporting Dior, who was standing next to her.

Although Dior remained expressionless, his taut jawline betrayed his inner turmoil.

And Locke.
He simply wiped away non-existent sweat from his brow.

after all
He currently has two solutions:

1. Platinum Pacemaker:

The "Platinum Star" can perform heart massage pacing with precision down to the molecular level.

It requires extremely precise manipulation and may place an unknown burden on the heart.

2. Electrical stimulation: Electric shock is delivered using a simulated defibrillator.

However, even external stimuli can have negative effects.
so.
He turned his head sharply, his gaze locking onto Salafir, who was frantically spinning around in place, her face pale.

"Sarafil! Come here!" Locke hissed, scooping up his youngest son and gesturing for him to look at Jonathan, who was lying on the ground. "Do it!"

"?!"

Seeing Jonathan's pale and lifeless face, Salafir shuddered in fright, her understanding instantly veering off course, and she said in a tearful voice:
"Buried...buried?! Are we going to bury him now?! Uncle hasn't even..."

"...What are you thinking about!"

Not intimidated by Jonathan, Locke was nearly choked by what Salafil said. How did this kid's thought process work?!
"Why don't you just suggest I use explosives to 'cremate' my uncle?"

A childish yet precocious voice rang out.

"Divine Capital" reappeared, arms crossed, looking at his brother with disdain. "Father told you to use magic! Idiot!"

Startled by the god's rebuke, Salafir finally realized what was happening and gave an embarrassed smile:
"Oh...oh! Healed! Yes! Healed!"

Upon hearing this, everyone suddenly remembered Salafir's miraculous and powerful healing abilities, and breathed a sigh of relief, their hopes rekindled.

Under the tense gaze of everyone.

Salafir took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

He reached out his little hand and gently pressed it against Jonathan's cold chest, his little face full of focus.

A soft, pure white light emanated from his palm, flowing gently into Jonathan's chest like a warm tide.

The powerful vitality contained in that light brought a sense of comfort to those around it, simply by witnessing it.

"Om-!"

The light flashed briefly, then disappeared.

Something incredible happened!

Jonathan's previously bluish-purple complexion returned to its rosy hue at a visible speed, and his weak heartbeat became strong and powerful again, even more vigorous than before!
He suddenly opened his tightly closed eyes and gasped for breath.

"Am I okay?!"

He subconsciously touched his chest.

But Jonathan felt not only no discomfort, but also an unprecedented surge of energy.

He sprang to his feet with incredible agility, his movements so swift that he didn't seem like someone who had just suffered a heart attack, or even a middle-aged farmer.

He even casually hoisted the still-dazed Salafir onto his shoulder and laughed loudly, "Hahaha! Thank you, little guy! Uncle feels like I can plow all the fields in one go now!"

He even ruffled Salafir's hair vigorously, feeling incredibly happy.

However, when he looked up and saw the stunned expressions on the faces of his family members around him, he was also taken aback.

"What's wrong?" Jonathan looked at himself, then at everyone, puzzled. "I'm fine, aren't I? Salafir healed me. The way you're all looking at me... it's like you don't recognize me?"

Isn't this a normal thing in the Kent family?
"..."

Everyone looked at each other in complete silence.

Jonathan in front of me
It's really nothing, just a little too good...

Excessive.

His hair had become thicker and regained most of its dark brown color, the deep wrinkles around his eyes seemed to have been smoothed out, his back, which had been slightly hunched from years of hard work, was now straight, and even the muscles in his arms looked more muscular and full.

The whole person looks...

He was at most in his early thirties, full of vigor, a stark contrast to the way he looked before he collapsed!

This is hardly a recovery.
This is practically turning you back in time!
Locke's gaze slowly shifted from the younger version of Jonathan to Salafir, who was still riding on his shoulders, looking bewildered.

The boy scratched his head, looked at the young and strong Jonathan, and was a little unsure himself. He muttered to himself, "What I used... should be Healing, right?"

"It's just fixing the broken parts... Could it be that it was repaired too well?"

"..."

Locke couldn't help but rub his temples, feeling an unprecedented pressure from his education.

Salafir's current power.
It was no longer possible to distinguish and understand them using the characteristics of the twelve talismans from his memory.

This over-the-top 'recovery' effect is more like a 'horse's' healing mixed with a 'dog's' youth.

Or were other rules added unintentionally?

It seems...

We must find some time to properly analyze the power within these two children.

Otherwise, if anyone gets a headache or fever next time...
I'm afraid Salafell will regenerate her into an infant!
Is it really that hard to accept?

Jonathan scratched his head.

He felt incredibly energetic, his whole body was warm, and he was even... a little hungry.

"Alright, I suggest we go have our second Thanksgiving meal now. What do you think?"

He grinned with a hearty smile that rivaled that of a young man, and loudly suggested, "How about it, Martha? There's still half a ham in the fridge, right?"

Looking at her energetic husband, Martha was both amused and exasperated. In the end, she could only shake her head with a helpless smile: "You... you just got a second chance at life and you're already thinking about food."

"This proves that Salafil was cured! She's completely healed!"

Jonathan put Salafir down from his shoulder and patted his little shoulder hard, making Salafir stumble.

"Yay! Second meal!"

But when Salafir heard there was food, she immediately forgot her earlier anxiety and excitedly raised her hand, "I'll go get the drinks and pumpkin pie! I'm fast!"

Before he could finish speaking, his small figure blurred in a flash, directly using his still somewhat unfamiliar [Rule: Swiftness], instantly disappearing from behind the barn.

"Hey! Salafir! Don't use that..."

Before Locke could utter his warning, a clanging sound and a soft gasp came from inside the house.

The next second, Salafir reappeared in front of everyone with a 'whoosh,' carrying several bottles of drinks and a huge, uncut pumpkin pie.

However, his movements were clearly out of control, and he staggered.

He was about to fall face down to the ground because he couldn't stop in time.

And the heavy pumpkin pie in his hand was about to fly out, judging by its parabolic trajectory.
—It smashed right into Dior, who was standing to the side with a blank expression!

Those wine-red pupils contracted instantly!

"——Mu Da!"

Time seemed to stand still at that moment!
Everything fell into absolute grayness and deathly silence.

Dio clicked his tongue in annoyance and stepped aside to avoid the pumpkin pie that was about to smear his face.

Then he glanced at Sarafil, who was still in the running and falling position, with a bewildered expression.

A hint of helplessness flashed in his eyes.

But still controlling the "world," it first reached out and precisely straightened Salafir's small body, which was about to fall, allowing him to stand steadily. Then, it picked up the pumpkin pie that was frozen in mid-air, adjusted its angle slightly, and carefully placed it back into Salafir's hand.

Time resumes its flow.

Color and sound have returned with a bang!
"Brother Dior! Here, have some for you!"

Salafir himself didn't seem to have fully realized what was happening; he just instinctively handed over the pie that had suddenly appeared in his hand.

Dio stared blankly at the pumpkin pie that was practically right under his nose, then glanced at Salafell, who was practically begging for praise.

He was silent for two seconds, and finally just flicked Salafir's forehead in an annoyed manner.

"Idiot. Hold on tight."

"If you're clumsy like this again, I'll throw you and Pai to feed the livestock."

Salafir covered his slightly red forehead, chuckling to himself, completely unaware that he had just brushed with the edge of time stopping.

Clark, who was standing nearby, couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Martha and Jonathan couldn't help but laugh.

Locke smiled and shook his head; what he had just witnessed could not escape his notice.

Jonathan, overflowing with energy; Salafir, foolishly clutching a pie; Dio, feigning disgust but secretly plotting; Clark and Martha, laughing...

This is the family he is willing to give everything to protect.

He took a deep breath, temporarily suppressing his worries, and addressed everyone:

"Alright, alright, stop standing there. Second meal it is! Jonathan, looks like you've got plenty of strength now, go and carry out that heaviest cheesecake!"

"There are so many stars right now, it would be nice to have an outdoor party."

The party was a great success.

Until the dead of night.

Only then did the hustle and bustle of Thanksgiving completely subside, leaving behind a tranquil atmosphere.

Salafir climbed into her little bed and wrapped herself tightly in the blanket with cat and dog patterns.

The room was quiet, with only the occasional low chirping of autumn insects coming from outside the window, as if gently keeping time for the silent night.

but
He blinked, as if something was missing.

So he asked in a low voice using his mind, "Shen Du, Shen Du, are you asleep?"

"What?" An impatient snort came from the depths of my consciousness. "Speak quickly if you have something to say, don't disturb my peace and quiet."

“God Capital,” Salafir chuckled, continuing to transmit friendly mental waves, “It’s such a beautiful holiday today, would you like to listen to some music? It’s very soothing!”

"."

However, Shen Du's voice carried a mocking tone, as if he had already seen through everything:

"If you want to hear your broken music box, just take it out, brother. Stop with the nonsense. Anyway, only you can hear it; it won't bother me."

Salafir wasn't embarrassed at all when her little scheme was exposed; instead, she was even happier.

He rummaged around under the bed and pulled out the dreamlike music box, which he had obtained from Merlin's Treasury, and now from his own Kent Treasury—a box that was both real and illusory.

He carefully placed it beside his pillow, stretched out his little hand, and tried to slowly inject the warm and peculiar magic within him into it, like winding up a toy.

hum...

The shimmering light on the surface of the music box seemed to have become even brighter.

Immediately, a melodious, ethereal, and strange tune, seemingly from the depths of the starry sky, quietly began to play.

It even seemed to resonate deep within Salafir's consciousness.

Gently enveloping his soul.

It sounds really nice...

Salafir thought hazily, her eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

And so, drawn by that strange melody, consciousness gradually sank, detaching from the anchor point of the real world, sliding into unknown depths...

until……

"Om-!"

A strange feeling of weightlessness came over me.

Salafir blinked.
He found himself standing in a vast, misty, and strange realm.

Above us was an endless starry sky.

The ground beneath my feet was soft and ethereal, and a milky white mist filled the air, stretching endlessly and obscuring my sense of direction. Where have I ended up?
Salafir looked around blankly, a sense of unease rising in his heart.

"The capital city!"

He called out
But there was no response.

Swallowing hard, Salafir tentatively took two steps forward.
But before his feet could even touch the ground.

—The thick fog ahead slowly dispersed to both sides.

A huge figure gradually appeared before him.

That's a...

man?

Do not!
Upon closer inspection, it is not a fully human form.

He had a tall, human-like body covered in shimmering golden scales, with sharp bone spurs at his joints, and a powerful dragon tail swaying slowly behind him.

It has a handsome face but is not human, with dragon horns that curve backward on both sides of its forehead.

Golden vertical pupils stared intently at Salafir, who had suddenly intruded, with an indescribable scrutiny.

Salafir stared wide-eyed at this unprecedented sight...

Dragon people?

The two, one large and one small, stood facing each other in the misty fog.

Until the dragon-man broke the silence first.

"you……"

His golden, vertical pupils narrowed slightly, revealing a hint of confusion and...

A deeper level of expectation.

Are you my younger brother?

"?!"

Salafir was completely stunned, her mouth agape in an "O" shape, utterly unable to comprehend what was happening before her eyes and this abrupt question.

younger brother?

What is this powerful and frightening-looking dragon saying?
What is Dad keeping on the side?!

"Sorry, little one, it's just that the sensation inside your body feels very familiar to me."

"Just like us brothers and sisters, who were born from 'Yuan' Junior High School."

"But you seem surprised now?"

He lowered his head slightly, bringing his enormous head close to Salaphire.

There was no sense of oppression; rather, it felt like an elder bending down to examine a novel little flower.

"So, in your 'perception,' what do I look like? A talking tree? A warm light? Or a... giant, winged friend?"

His voice carried a hint of humor.

Salafir tilted her head back, her little face full of amazement.

Without hesitation, he answered in his childish voice:

"You are a very, very big, and very beautiful dragon!"

"Oh?"

The dragon seemed satisfied with the answer and let out a low chuckle.

A soft laugh that seemed to resonate with countless stars at the same time.

"A dragon... a very good choice. Powerful, ancient, and full of stories. It's a perfect image for a first encounter."

He paused, then his enormous golden eyes scrutinized Salafir once more. This time, his gaze seemed to penetrate Salafir's current form, reaching something deeper—

That rule, which shares the same origin as him, yet is entirely different in essence.

"It's...amazing."

He murmured softly, his voice like the wind from afar piercing through nebulae, “I see… the harmony of contradictions, the flow of rules, and… the unshakeable anchor of ‘love’.”

"Uncle, what are you talking about?"

Salafir scratched his head, not understanding what the dragon was saying, but finding its way of speaking both mysterious and captivating.

"."

"Excuse me." The dragon scratched its horn, or rather, its current emotion could be expressed in a way that aligned with Salafir's 'understanding'. "What I mean is..."

"You possess opposites. You possess endless contradictions. You possess an infinite double helix."

"You are immortal and indestructible, and no law can taint your body."

"You may be an Endless One, just like us."

Even if you really die, a new being will inevitably appear to take your place.

"Wow!"

Salafir's eyes lit up.

Although he still couldn't understand it, this was the first time someone had praised him like that, even though the words used to praise him weren't very nice.

Strange and odd; doesn't sound like a good word.

"Sorry, I haven't slept in a long time, so I might be a little groggy." The dragon smiled apologetically, his gaze refocusing on Salafir, this time softening its scrutiny. "So..."

"Little one, can you help me?"

"?!"

Salafir tilted her little head.

"How...how can I help you?"

He asked in a low voice, a little uncertain, but instinctively willing to lend a helping hand.

Seemingly amused by the little guy's sincere reaction, the dragon's golden eyes deepened with a smile, but also carried a hint of lingering weariness.

"You can call me Morpheus."

His voice was as gentle as the night breeze, “As you can see, my current state… is not freedom. I have been imprisoned here for a very, very long time.”

Looking at Salafir, or rather, looking behind Salafir, His gaze seemed to penetrate the dream and see the music box playing music in the real world.

“You…you must have come in through Mr. Merlin’s music box, right? That music box was a gift I gave him. Before I was imprisoned, he could contact me through that little thing and record my many dream adventures in his Book of Eternity.”

Morpheus's tone held a hint of nostalgia, but it quickly turned somber:
"However... after his death, after I was completely imprisoned, I haven't heard any sounds from the outside world for a very, very long time, nor have I spoken to anyone."

He gently rubbed Salafir's head with his illusory dragon claws.

"But now, perhaps because of the 'shared origin' of our power, your energy has unexpectedly and strongly stimulated the music box, bringing a sliver of my consciousness..."

"Or rather, fragments of your soul were briefly drawn into your dream."

"Oh~"

Salafir nodded, seemingly understanding, but not quite. Although she didn't fully grasp the key point, she still looked up at her and asked earnestly:

"Then tell me quickly, how can I help you?"

Seemingly surprised by the little guy's quick agreement, Morpheus remained silent for a moment, a genuine flicker of emotion flashing in his eyes—a flicker that had been dormant for millennia.
Suddenly, I felt a tremor of excitement when I touched a glimmer of light.

"...Thank you for agreeing to help me."

Morpheus's voice softened, the weariness lessened somewhat, and even carried a hint of barely perceptible joy, making his voice sound much more lively:
"You're such a kind little thing."

He paused, as if he felt he had to give something in return.

"What reward do you want? As long as it's within the reach of my broken dream..."

"award?"

Salafir blinked, both unfamiliar and curious about the word. "What reward can you give me?"

"I……"

Morpheus's momentum instantly weakened. He looked around at his own desolate, imprisoned dream world and appeared somewhat embarrassed.

A king who once ruled over dreams now finds himself unable to offer a decent gift to a child who helped him.

"Perhaps"

He hesitated for a moment, then suggested with some uncertainty, "How about I give you a precognitive dream? A glimpse into a possible future world?"

"Although... it may not be clear, or it may even be just symbolic..."

"After all, one of my brothers really likes writing forks."

"..."

If it were the "Divine Capital" here, they would probably have jumped up and mocked them.

"Who are you trying to fool with this vague and unrealistic stuff?!"

They might even slap the impoverished Lord of Dreams twice.

Fortunately, it was Salafir who was here.

He just thought the suggestion was novel.

"sure……"

Salafir laughed, revealing an innocent smile, "That sounds very interesting!"

Gazing at the child's untroubled smile, Morpheus remained silent for a moment, a complex emotion flowing through his eyes, which ultimately turned into an extremely gentle sigh.

“Little one… thank you. You are the only one in all these years who has reached out to me.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Morpheus's dragon-shaped body, formed from stars and mist, began to blur and become transparent, eventually dissipating completely and turning into an even denser milky-white mist.

The mist gently enveloped Salafir, supporting his consciousness and preventing it from sinking further, instead slowly drifting it deeper into the unknown realms of the dream...

Falling...

It felt as if I had passed through a curtain of icy water.

Until a gust of biting, salty wind suddenly blew against Salafir's face.

He couldn't help but shudder and open his eyes.

The scene before us has completely changed.

He was no longer in that ethereal, misty realm, but standing on a boundless, pure white ice plain that seemed to stretch to the ends of the world.

The sky was a somber, leaden gray, with thick, low-hanging clouds that seemed poised to crush the silent land at any moment.

Glaciers of various shapes stand like silent behemoths in the distance, reflecting a deep blue light.

Here
It is a forbidden zone for life, the end of the world, a world so silent that only the wind can eternally howl.

"Where am I?!"

What happened to the precognitive dream I was promised?
Why did they bring me dry ice?!
but
Subconsciously glancing around, Salafir's peripheral vision was also drawn to an incongruous building nestled beneath a distant ice cliff.
That seems to be a...

The small hut, roughly constructed from ice and some kind of animal hide, almost blends into the icy landscape.

It is easily overlooked if you don't look closely.

Blinking, Salafir felt an inexplicable attraction drawing him in.

He braved the cold wind and trudged towards the shack.

Only when he got closer did he see that there was another figure sitting with his back to him in a relatively sheltered spot under the ice cliff.

The man was wearing dirty clothes, roughly sewn from the fur of an unknown animal.

His hair and beard were very long, and all of them were white and tangled together, covering most of his face, making him look destitute and down on his luck.

Around him, several penguins waddled and peered curiously, adding a touch of unexpected life to the desolate ice field.

The man was looking down, using a bone knife to intently and numbly process a freshly caught sea fish, his movements skilled but lifeless.

Can.
Although the other person's appearance has changed drastically, even the color of their hair has turned from black to white, and it is deeply covered by the vicissitudes of life and their impoverished state, but...
Salafir can still tell
He tentatively whispered the name:
"...Brother Clark?"

The action of handling the fish suddenly stopped.

The bone knife fell onto the ice with a crisp sound.

(End of this chapter)