American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 172 Lionel
"holiday?"

After hanging up the phone, Dior quietly repeated the code name.

The corners of his mouth curled up in a playful arc.

It seems that a venomous snake, skilled in patience, is indeed lurking in the Falcone family's pond.

The silver motorcycle sped silently along the interstate highway back to Smallville.

The neon lights and conspiracies of Gotham were left far behind, and the familiar farmland and night gradually replaced the view ahead.

However, when the outline of Kent Farm was faintly visible in the moonlight, Dior did not drive straight into the house.

His gaze, however, drifted toward the edge of the farm.
The abandoned windmill, now just a black silhouette in the night.

Speaking of which...

I haven't been to that secret base in a long time.

A rare hint of nostalgia flashed in Dior's red eyes.

Every inch of the interior decoration, the sound insulation, the carpet, even the wiring of the small refrigerator, was all done by hand, by him, secretly borrowing tools from the auto repair shop in Sebrello, without telling anyone.

It was Dior's absolutely private and inviolable sanctuary.

Um.
Perhaps he needs some alone time today, to listen to music and let his thoughts settle down.

Consider the development of icebergs.

The silver Harley silently came to a stop below the mill.

Dior leaped lightly up and jumped directly through the window to the second floor.

He casually pressed the hidden mechanism.

"Wow——!"

The ceiling slides open, and the folding ladder is lowered.

Also reaching my ears was a sound that should never have been there.

It came from the space above, which should have been absolutely silent.
It wasn't music from a record player, nor the hum of a refrigerator.

Instead, it was... a rustling sound, like something rolling around on a soft carpet?

There was also... suppressed laughter mixed in?
The air pressure around Dior suddenly dropped.

He silently stepped onto the stairs and slowly peered into the space he regarded as sacred.

then……

His face turned completely black.

On his carefully chosen dark wool carpet.
His troublesome younger brother, Salafir, was rolling around in a shameless embrace with a gigantic...white wolf?
Salafir's face was flushed, and she grinned so wide her eyes disappeared as she tried to bury her face in the white wolf's thick neck fur. The white wolf, seemingly having a good time, carefully nudged Salafir with its huge paws, making gurgling sounds in its throat.

The small coffee table next to him was knocked askew, and the cover of one of his limited edition vinyl records lay pitifully on the ground, with a muddy footprint still faintly visible on it.

His cherished fortress of solitude
It has now turned into... a children's playground?!

Dior stood at the top of the stairs, the low pressure emanating from him almost freezing the air.

He squinted at the younger brother duo rolling on the ground, and squeezed out four chilling words through gritted teeth:
“Sa, La, F, Er”.

"."

Salafir froze abruptly, as if she had been put on pause while she was having a great time.

He turned his head cautiously.
The smile on her little face froze instantly, then turned into terror at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"Di...Brother Dior?!"

Salafir scrambled to his feet and stood there, bewildered.

Its little head drooped down, like a puppy caught red-handed for doing something wrong.

The white wolf beside him immediately stood up alertly, its azure eyes fixed on Dio, and a warning growl emanated from its throat.

However, it seemed that Dio wasn't emanating any dangerous aura.
They did not attack immediately.

The gaze swept over the messy carpet and fallen records, then slowly moved to Salafir's guilty little face, finally settling on the wild white wolf.

His fortress of solitude... has been destroyed.

He was ensnared by his naive and foolish younger brother, and by a beast that he had somehow abducted...

asshole
His parents must pay this money!

The old man needs to pay me a hefty price!
-
at the same time
Inside the main house of Kent Farm, however, the scene was quite different.

Locke lay sprawled on the old sofa in the living room, casually scratching his butt while watching a noisy late-night talk show on TV.

The room was quiet, with only the noise of the television and the occasional sound of wind outside the window.

"Tsk, what kind of nonsense is this..."

"I'd rather hear Jonathan tell stories about chasing bison when he was young..."

"Is this the kind of channel I'm paying for every month's subscription fee?!"

Locke grumbled about the program's content, yawned, and picked up the remote to change the channel.
"Dong dong dong."

A clear knock sounded on the door.

Locke paused in his stretching and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

This timing...

Lex is back?

Wait a minute, wasn't that kid on a business trip?
Clark and Salafir, those two silly boys, would definitely just push the door open and come in, and Dio is even more elusive, never using the door.

It seems like the whole farm will seriously knock on the door.
That would be Lex Lucas.

Locke did not feel any sense of crisis.

After all, the entire farm was protected by a powerful magical barrier set up by him and Zatanna. Anyone with malicious intent would be electrocuted to a crisp before even stepping into the yard.

He assumed it was just that one of the kids had suddenly become polite, or that Lex had come home early.

So he lazily shouted towards the door:

"Just come in, the door is not locked."

With a slight sound, the door was pushed open.

A figure stood in the shadows of the entrance hall, not immediately entering.

He spoke softly, his voice far colder and more weary than he remembered:

"Stand-up comedy...is it that good?"

"This is the only show worth watching late at night..." Locke leaned back lazily on the sofa and replied subconsciously, but he frowned halfway through his sentence.

This voice...

Locke sat up from the sofa and turned to look at the door.

By the flickering light of the television and the faint light filtering in from the window.

He could see the figure standing in the shadows clearly.

Not Lex.

Although the face looked much more weathered than he remembered, with an inescapable weariness and a deeper melancholy lingering between his brows, Locke couldn't possibly mistake it.

Standing at the door was Lionel Luther, who had been out of contact for a long time.

“Lionel?” Locke raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “Weren’t you in Africa?”

"Well, long time no see."

The man chuckled softly and walked with practiced ease to a soft little sofa, sitting down as if he were back in his own home.

"Once the project comes to an end, I always have to come back to see old friends and take care of some... 'family matters'."

Raising an eyebrow, Locke went to the kitchen and poured him a cup of coffee.

He placed the coffee table in front of him and then sat back down on the sofa opposite him.

After a few casual pleasantries, they chatted about their recent situations.
Until Locke couldn't resist and cut to the question that truly concerned him.

He leaned forward slightly, his fingers unconsciously tapping his knee, his tone inquisitive:

"Speaking of which... your 'Human Rebirth Project' is moving at a frighteningly fast pace. I was just at the hospital today and I heard a doctor promoting something called... 'Dawn Potion'. Isn't this rate of dissemination a bit too aggressive?"

"You went to the hospital? Was it something to your heart?"

"It must have been really tough on you and Jonathan."

"but."

Lionel took a sip of his coffee. "Isn't this great, Locke? All these years of hard work, the astronomical sums of money and resources invested, are all for this."

"To conquer diseases, extend lifespan, and benefit mankind."

"By the way..." he paused, a sly glint in his smile that Locke was familiar with, "...to earn a little bit of money to keep the project running."

Locke clicked his tongue. Although he had doubts about Lionel's methods, seeing his old friend achieve such a grand goal brought a genuine smile to his face. Besides, he was always happy that the house was a little more lively because of his old friend's return.

"Benefiting humanity is a good thing... but you call that 'small change'? Lionel, you call profits that could double the Luther Corporation's stock price 'small change'?" he retorted irritably. "Then what kind of money does my farm earn?"

"It's not small."

Lionel readily admitted, but then shrugged, his tone calm yet carrying a chillingly ambitious tone, "But compared to the next step of my plan, this is indeed just a paltry sum."

"..."

Locke's smile gradually faded.

He remained silent for a moment, carefully examining Lionel.

Although the man before him was exhausted, the flame burning in his eyes was more intense than he had ever seen before.

Thinking of the recent financial news headlines, Locke's tone became serious:
"I've seen the news reports. You're not just selling medicine. You're also aggressively acquiring and swallowing up leading companies in various key sectors, from biotechnology to precision manufacturing, from energy to aerospace, from acquiring military enterprises to cooperating with the military..."

“Lionel, don’t try to fool me with that ‘business integration’ rhetoric.”

Interrupting the man's words, Locke shook his head and said, puzzled, "I'm just a farmer who grows crops."

"What you're going to say about market capitalization and monopoly is meaningless to me. I'm just analyzing it for you from a friend's perspective."

He took a deep breath and stated his deduction:
"Once you've completed all these arrangements, you will have access to a near-unlimited supply chain of resources, globally leading energy technology, and computing power that surpasses national boundaries..."

"You will establish a massive, self-sufficient system that can operate entirely internally. At that point, what competitors will be able to restrain you? What international regulations will truly bind you? You will establish a 'state within a state' that is free from any regulation on top of the existing world order."

“Lionel, this is too dangerous.”

Locke leaned forward slightly and said in a low voice, "What you will be facing then will definitely not be as simple as just one country."

“Out of concern for a friend, Lionel, tell me, what is it that would make you go to such lengths?”

A brief silence fell over the living room, broken only by the occasional crackling of the burning wood in the fireplace.

The laughter of the audience on the talk show on TV sounded particularly jarring at that moment.

Meeting Locke's serious gaze, Lionel's smile gradually faded, replaced by an almost reverent seriousness.

He put down his water glass and placed his hands crossed on his knees.

He did not answer Locke's question directly, but instead asked in return:
"Locke, in your opinion... whose hands should the future of humanity be in? Those short-sighted politicians? Those greedy Wall Street speculators? Or... those 'mortals' who can't even overcome their own genetic defects?"

“I have seen your Kent family’s medical records.”

"Your father, Jonathan's father, both died of heart disease."

"However."

"In fact, twenty or thirty years ago, or even sixty or seventy years ago, an unknown doctor proposed a treatment plan for hereditary heart disease. According to the records, he cured several patients with that plan, and it was a complete cure, with the disease disappearing completely from the genetic record."

"But this plan was eventually buried in the dust of history. If it weren't for the fact that one of the PhDs I recruited happened to be a descendant of that person, these things would never have come to light."

His voice was soft, yet it struck Locke's heart like a hammer blow.

"."

Looking at his old friend in front of him, someone he used to drink and chat with, but now...
The man who stood at the crossroads of humanity's fate, Locke, fell silent.

Lionel, however, did not seem to be in a hurry to get an answer.
He simply waited patiently, his gaze serene.

After a long while, Locke slowly exhaled:

"Is it for...all of humanity? Or for..."

"Lex?"

“Both.” Lionel nodded frankly, a subtle, complex emotion flashing in his eyes: “Human potential should not be buried, and Lex… my son, that damned genetic disease should not have ruined him.”

At this point, he leaned forward, his tone becoming sincere:

"So, Locke, this is exactly where I need your help."

“I know that the power you possess is far from ordinary.”

"In a while, I will fully launch the second phase of the 'Temple' project."

"I will build large data centers in strategic locations such as Gotham, Star City, and Central City, under the guise of building 'global cloud computing centers'."

“I can tell you.” He paused, lowering his voice, “The real core of these facilities is that they serve as key nodes for the large-scale deployment, optimization, and even research and development of the next generation of gene-based drugs in the future.”

"They are the cornerstone of humanity's future."

"But you know, these site selections... inevitably touch upon the interests of some local 'superhuman' forces."

“I’ve encountered inexplicable obstacles even in the early stages of the project. So I need someone of your stature to ensure the smooth laying of these foundations.”

“Lionel.” Almost without hesitation, Locke simply shook his head: “You know me.”

"Is that so..."

Lionel's face didn't show much surprise, but his smile faded slightly, carrying a hint of knowing regret.

He understood Locke's temperament and knew that forcing things would be useless.

The atmosphere was a little stagnant for a while.

However, Lionel cleverly shifted the topic, making his tone lighter again:

"Speaking of which, Christmas is next month. Have you planned to take your family on a vacation? Hawaii? Or skiing in Europe?"

Taken aback by his abrupt shift in thinking, Locke chuckled irritably, “Vacation? With such a huge mess on the farm, where can we go for fun? Besides, Jonathan definitely wouldn’t want to leave her chickens, ducks, geese, and dogs.”

Lionel paused for a moment, seemingly considering his words, before uttering something that almost made Locke think he had misheard:
"Locke... if... I mean if, could you sell Kent Farm to me?"

Locke's face darkened, and he looked at Lionel as if he were a madman:

"Have you lost your mind while you were in Africa? Selling the farm? Just so our family can go on a Christmas trip? Could your reason be any more outrageous?!"

Lionel was amused by Locke's reaction.

However, he did not continue the topic, but instead took out a small metal bottle that shimmered with a faint blue light from the inside pocket of his coat.

He gently placed it on the coffee table and pushed it in front of Locke.

"Rebirth 1.0".

Lionel's tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable air of authority:
"The effect is definitely more than three times that of the version you heard in the hospital. Consider it an early Christmas present, don't refuse it."

Looking at the bottle of potion brimming with astonishing technology, Locke glanced up at Lionel's unfathomable eyes, and finally shook his head with a slight smile.

"You always pull this stunt."

He stood up, walked to the corner of the kitchen, and picked out the biggest pumpkin.

Then she walked back and, without saying a word, shoved it into Lionel's arms.

“Then this is my return gift,” Locke patted the heavy pumpkin, a mischievous smile on his face. “Take it back with me. It’s only fair.”

"you"

Holding the enormous pumpkin, Lionel was momentarily at a loss for what to do.

A rare, wry smile appeared on his usually composed face. However, after weighing the gift in his arms, he could only shake his head and laugh helplessly.
“Lock Kent…you really are a bastard.”

He didn't linger any longer, as if he had already achieved his goal.

"Aren't you going to meet with Jonathan?" Locke sighed.

"There will always be another chance. I have to go to National City later. It's enough that I was able to chat with you for a while today."

As he spoke, he shouldered the enormous pumpkin that seemed so out of place with his status, turned and walked toward the door, his steps still steady.

"Then I won't see you off. Take care on the road."

Locke said, standing in the doorway.

With his back to him, Lionel waved his free hand.

Their figures quickly disappeared into the night on the farm.

Locke closed the door and returned to the living room.

His gaze fell on the bottle of dark blue potion on the coffee table, and his brows furrowed slightly.

He recalled how Lionel had effortlessly lifted that massive pumpkin, weighing several dozen kilograms, without even breaking a sweat…

This is definitely not the physical stamina a middle-aged businessman who sits in an office all year round should have.

Then
A thought flashed through Locke's mind like lightning.

Lionel…

Has his own body already been optimized by that drug?
-
Put the pumpkin on the helicopter.

Lionel's face returned to its cold expression.

He signaled to the pilot to take off, then put on his headset and dialed a number.

"You'll be in charge of leading the team, Lobo."

"Now? Boss?" A mocking voice came from the other end of the phone. "No way, I'm still chasing my brother Logan."

(End of this chapter)