American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 270 Divine Capital: Could you possibly give me a mountain of gold and silver?
The Kansas morning sun is as generous as a flowing golden grace.

It was sprinkled without reservation on every corner of the Kent farm.

The air was filled with the aroma of earth, hay, and the enticing scent of fried bacon and hot muffins wafting from the kitchen window.

just
In this idyllic tranquility, a daily 'battle' is unfolding in the second-floor bedroom.

"God Capital! Salafir! Time to get up!"

Locke's booming voice came from downstairs.

On the bed by the window, the huge bulge in the blanket shifted restlessly, and then a voice from within, thick with nasal tone and endless resentment, uttered: "Dragon... Blast!"

"Let this wretched world that requires us to get up early... be completely destroyed..."

He let out a low shout with all his might, as if he were unleashing some earth-shattering magic, but then he simply buried his head deeper into the soft pillow, wrapping himself up in the blanket from head to toe into an airtight cocoon.

On the other side, Salafir, rubbing her sleepy eyes, obediently sat up.

A few strands of her soft, black hair stuck out in a messy updo, like a fledgling bird just leaving its nest.

He yawned slightly, his voice still languid: "Good morning, Dad... Shen Du."

Before she finished speaking, she obediently began to feel for the clothes placed beside the bed.

Locke appeared in the doorway, holding a spatula in his hand, with a helpless yet amused expression on his face.

He went to Salafir's bedside first and rubbed the little guy's head: "Good morning, little guy. Go wash up, the muffins will be ready soon."

Then, he turned to the tightly wrapped bundle of blankets, stretched out his hands, and gave it a slight tug.

"?"

Not moving.

Locke's face darkened. "Shen Du, you've used your powers to make the blankets heavier again!"

“If you don’t get up,” he raised his voice slightly, “do you need me to ‘wake you up’?”

His tone was calm, but a flash of electricity clearly crossed his eyes.

"Tyrant!" The blanket was finally reluctantly pulled back a corner, revealing Shen Du's golden eyes, which, even after just waking up, seemed exceptionally sharp and dissatisfied. The boy glared at Locke, his tone harsh: "To deprive a minor of his precious sleep, this is a violation... ugh!"

His protest was covered by a shirt that Locke threw with pinpoint accuracy.

“You’re violating the farm’s core principle: working at sunrise.” Locke retorted without hesitation, “You have three minutes to get dressed and come downstairs.”

"Otherwise, your snacks from this morning will belong to Salafir."

"You finally succeeded in losing weight. If you can't have any snacks on your birthday because you sleep in, wouldn't that be a huge loss?"

This move clearly hit the nail on the head.

Shen Du had mostly regained his senses. While frantically pulling the shirt off his face, he muttered, "Father, you're so despicable..."

However, the speed of his movements was noticeably increased.

Salafir, already dressed in his plaid shirt and trousers, watched with a grin as God frantically tried to put on his clothes, and kindly handed him his trousers.

"Hurry up, or all the sweet chocolate will be gone!"

Seeing the two of them like this
Locke leaned against the doorframe and chuckled softly:
"Happy birthday."

"You two."

“Martha and Jonathan went to town early this morning to buy things for your birthday party tonight.” At the table, Locke took off his apron, spread his hands, and pointed to the excessively lavish food on the table. “So, I’m in charge of breakfast today.”

Um.
Locke always cooked large portions to satisfy everyone.

The pancakes piled high like a small mountain, the glistening, caramelized bacon, the golden scrambled eggs, a large jar of steaming milk, and a bottle of maple syrup.

"The honeycomb structure of this pancake isn't uniform enough, which affects the texture..."

Although Shen Du was already seated at the dining table, he still exuded a low-pressure aura.

He ate the sliced ​​pancakes in small, but not slow, uttering a protest after each bite.

The bacon was overcooked.

He complained as he forked the largest piece of bacon onto his plate.

"And this milk is way too hot!"

He picked up the cup, took a big gulp, and then slammed it down, as if denouncing some kind of atrocity.

Clark sat opposite him, having already devoured most of the food on his plate, with a bit of glistening maple syrup still clinging to the corner of his mouth.

He watched his younger brother's performance and burst into hearty laughter:

"Alright, Shen Du, stop being so picky. Happy birthday!"

With sincere blessings, he then looked at Salafir beside him and said, "Happy birthday, Salafir!"

Salafir was taking small bites of a syrup-covered muffin when she heard the birthday wishes, and her face immediately lit up with a smile: "Happy birthday to you too, Clark."

at the same time
Dior also came down from upstairs.

He seemed to have just finished some kind of morning training, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead, and his black vest accentuated his muscles beyond his years.

“Happy birthday, Clark, Salafir.” His voice was flat, but when his gaze swept over the capital, he paused slightly and added, “...and you, the capital.”

God looked up and met Dio's gaze.

Surprisingly, he didn't immediately retort, but simply snorted, which was considered an admission.

Salafir's curiosity was immediately piqued by this statement.

He put down his fork and looked at the two of them excitedly:

"Brother Clark, Brother Dior, have you prepared your birthday presents? What are they? I dreamt of a huge box last night!"

His eyes were filled with anticipation and dreams.

“Of course it’s ready.” Clark smiled mysteriously and winked at him. “But you won’t see it until tonight! I guarantee you’ll love it!”

“Of course.” Dior elegantly wiped his mouth with a napkin, a glint of something unfathomable in his eyes. “Everyone has one.”

His words, as always, carried a somewhat enigmatic meaning, sounding both like a gift announcement and a subtle challenge.

The gods listened, though they still kept a stern face.

But he seemed to eat the pancakes a little faster, and his ears perked up slightly, clearly showing interest in the two men's gifts.

"Alright, birthday celebrants, everyone," Locke's voice interrupted the children's daydreams about their gifts. "Hurry up and finish what's on your plates, the school bell won't wait for you."

"After you all go to school, Jonathan and I need to hurry up and prepare for this year's pumpkin contest..."

As he spoke, he picked up the milk jug, poured himself a large glass, gulped down a few mouthfuls, and muttered a barely audible complaint.

"I don't know why, but this year's harvest festival celebrations have been brought forward..."

"Many plans were disrupted. We were busy until almost midnight last night preparing the pies and decorations for the celebration."

When Salafir heard about the harvest festival and the pumpkin contest, her eyes lit up immediately, and she temporarily put aside her curiosity about her birthday present: "Dad! Will our pumpkin win again this year? It's that one... that one that's as big as a little house!"

"Can we still be the Pumpkin King this year?"

"That's definitely no problem!" Clark perked up, swallowing the last bite of food. "I checked last time, and the biggest ones are growing exceptionally well!"

"Alright, alright, who cares about the timing, we have to get the work done one step at a time." Locke brought the children's attention back. "You, target the school. We, target the pumpkin patch."

“And you, Clark.” He looked at Clark and winked, “Don’t mess up your date with Lana this afternoon.”

"what?"

Clark blushed and then turned his gaze to Salafir.

That big-mouthed Sarafil.
"Hey hey hey"

Salafir scratched his head and grinned foolishly, trying to get away with it by being cute.

"Anyway"

Locke concluded, "In the evening, a birthday party and a harvest festival warm-up—both are essential!"

"Now, move fast! All four of you."

On the way to school.

Or rather, on the road to heaven.

Saraphiel rode on the back of the majestic griffin Zeus, its golden mane fluttering in the morning breeze. The little fellow gripped the mane tightly, his face full of excitement.

Like a little prince surveying his own airspace.

Beside him, Shen Du lay lazily on a soft, golden cloud, which drifted slowly. He squinted, as if he might take another nap at any moment.

"The capital city!"

Salafir's voice came through the wind, "Look over there! Doesn't it look like a big dog!"

He pointed to a strangely shaped cloud on the horizon.

Shen Du didn't even bother to lift his eyelids, letting out a muffled hum from his nose, "I think you look quite similar."

"."

"Wow! Shen Du, look what that is?!"

On this auspicious day, Salafil did not want to quarrel with the gods.

He just kept trying to share: "Doesn't it look like a sundae!"

Shen Du turned over, turning his back to him, and Jin Yun swayed slightly.

"."

“God Capital.” Salafir thought for a moment, then persisted, “I think I felt something moving on your bed last night. Did you secretly eat chocolate again?”

Upon hearing this, Shendu suddenly opened his eyes and sat up straight.

"Nonsense! I'm way past the age of sneaking those cheap sweets! That's a childish game!"

Seeing that she had finally caught Shen Du's attention, Salafir smiled smugly and took the opportunity to steer the conversation back on track: "Alright, alright... Shen Du, how are your birthday presents coming along? We're exchanging them tonight."

Upon hearing this, Shendu resumed his nonchalant demeanor.

He lay back down in the cloud, lazily saying:

"Such trivial matters have long been prepared. There are plenty in the Dragon Court space... just pick a few scraps that you don't need."

Salafir pursed his lips, clearly not believing his story, but still curiously pressed on:

"Then...aren't you even a little bit curious about what Brother Dio and Brother Clark will give us?"

Shen Du chuckled dismissively, gazing at the azure sky with disdain, and said in an extremely perfunctory tone:

"Curious? What's there to be curious about? Are you going to give me a mountain of gold?"

"sneeze--!"

However, no sooner had he finished speaking than the griffin beneath Salafir snorted.

The flapping of its wings created a strong gust of wind that nearly blew away the golden clouds over the capital.

The gods frantically steadied the clouds, giving Zeus a disgruntled glare.

Salafir chuckled, her clear laughter echoing through the clouds.

He knew that the more indifferent God appeared, the more he might be secretly speculating.

Smallwell High School, Torch office.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the blinds.

The tabletop, piled high with manuscripts and photographs, casts dappled shadows.

Clark Kent, Chloe Sullivan, and photographer Pete Ross are gathered around the typesetting table, making final adjustments for the next issue of the school newspaper.

"Done! This sports cover is perfect!" It captures the moment Clark carries the football across the end zone.

Pete took a picture with satisfaction, then pulled out a handful of potato chips from a nearly empty snack bag next to him, happily stuffed them into his mouth, and made a crisp chewing sound.

"Are you really going to use me as the subject of this article?" Clark seemed a little hesitant.

He's been appearing in the news way too often lately.

Whether it's the school newspaper or...
Planet Daily

“Look at him, Chloe,” Clark turned to the office patriarch for help. “Try to talk to Pete; he’s practically turning me into the school newspaper’s mascot.”

"Uh-huh."

Chloe, however, was clearly distracted.

"Crack-!"

She suddenly pulled a large, rolled-up map from the drawer and eagerly unfolded it in front of Clark and Pete, covering almost half the tabletop.

"I understand!" she whispered.

"?"

Clark looked down and his heart skipped a beat.

It was a detailed map covering parts of the Midwest and the East Coast.

On the map, it was densely marked with thumbtacks of different colors and fine lines.

He recognized the marked points at a glance as the locations of his recent public appearances as 'Superman'.
Whether it's confronting Grandi, the monster made of mud and resentment, in the gloomy Gotham Harbor.
Or perhaps the towering waves subsided in the eye of Storm "Rene" in Metropolitan Bay.
This even includes several other smaller but equally thrilling accident or crime scenes...

No place he intervened in could escape the reach of this intelligence network.

Oh my god
Chloe Sullivan
Who exactly are you?!
Clark was shocked, but then he saw Chloe pick up a pencil again and, like a general strategizing on a sand table, slide it along the marked points and routes.
Finally, the pencil tip pressed heavily onto a certain area on the map—

Smallville, Kansas, and the surrounding vast farmland.

“Look, Clark.”

Chloe possessed an undeniable strength:
"Superman previously fought that monster named Grandi in Gotham City, and later dealt with Storm 'René' in Metropolis Bay. Look at his movement patterns and response time..."

She used a pencil to draw several circles on the map, connecting all the marked points.

"...it's like it radiates out from a central point."

"Whether the incident occurred in Gotham on the East Coast or in a metropolis in the Midwest, he was always able to arrive almost immediately."

"And this can cover the geographic center of all these regions..."

She slammed her pencil down on the Kansas spot.

He looked up, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and intelligence, fixed intently on Clark, as if trying to pierce through his ordinary black-rimmed glasses:
"Right here! Near Kansas! Superman must live around here! Right, Clark?"

"..."

You have to test me in a different way every day, don't you?!

Clark's lips twitched.

"Uh... Chloe, this..."

He pushed up his glasses, trying to make his voice sound normal, with a hint of hesitation, "This analysis is very interesting."

"But... is it possible that this is just a coincidence? Or, Superman is just... um... using some kind of very advanced vehicle, which is why he looks so fast?"

"After all, he's Superman..."

His explanation sounded weak and unconvincing even to himself.

"coincide?"

Chloe raised an eyebrow, clearly scoffing at the idea. "That coincidence is far too precise! And what kind of transportation could allow him to appear in different places as if he were teleporting?"

"This further proves that he possesses power that we cannot comprehend, and that the base is located in the central region!"

Pete, who was still munching on potato chips, leaned over to look at the complicated map and mumbled something indistinctly:

"Wow, so if you're saying that, then 'Superman' is just... a Kansas farmer?"

"Hey! You know what, this premise is pretty intriguing. Maybe he even grows corn! I wonder if he'll come to watch us eat pumpkin at the pumpkin contest this afternoon."

Clark: "!!!"

He coughed violently, almost choking on his own saliva.

"Pete! Don't talk nonsense!"

Clark almost retorted reflexively, but then quickly lowered his voice, "What I mean is... that's wishful thinking."

"Maybe he just...likes the quiet atmosphere here?"

Chloe crossed her arms and scrutinized Clark's unnatural reaction.

A thoughtful smile curved at the corners of his lips:

"Really? Clark, you seem... particularly nervous about this?"

Clark felt a fine layer of cold sweat seep down his back, and his bio-field was almost uncontrollably disturbing the surrounding air, causing the shadows of the blinds to begin to distort slightly.

He forced himself to calm down and cleared his throat.

“Um… Chloe,” Clark changed the subject, “weren’t you been investigating those urban legends in Smallville?”

"For example, a cornfield that glows, or a transparent farmer who lurks at midnight..."

"Don't you pay attention to those anymore? I think they're quite interesting too!"

He tried to awaken Chloe's curiosity as a small-town journalist about local mysteries.

Chloe pursed her lips upon hearing this.

With little interest, I tapped the Superman map with the end of my pencil.
"Those outdated legends?"

"It's been eerily quiet lately, like... like someone has silently erased everything from beginning to end with an eraser, leaving no new clues or witnesses."

"Boring as hell."

She looked up, her gaze hardening again, fixing on Clark. "By comparison, isn't a superhero who might be living right next to us a more interesting and worthwhile ultimate mystery to explore?"

"You agree, right, Clark?"

Pete, munching on potato chips, nodded in agreement.

He clearly enjoyed the relaxed, gossipy atmosphere more: "Yeah! And Chloe is right, this is the age of superheroes! Although there are many big events, to be honest, I feel much safer in my daily life."

“They’re saying on the radio that Kansas’ crime rate has hit a record low again this year!” he exclaimed, a hint of pride in his voice. “I really don’t know where these guardian spirits are hiding...it’s so hard to guess.”

"After all, Kansas is a land of outstanding people and resources!"

“There are impressive people everywhere.”

"Even if you told me now that our principal or football coach is actually a hidden superhero, I would probably believe it."

His casual remark seemed to ignite a spark in Chloe's mind, revealing another clue.

She slammed her hand on the table, startling both Clark and Pete.

“Pete! You reminded me!” Chloe’s voice rose with excitement. “I almost forgot! There’s been a very, very small rumor going around, but it’s quite detailed.”

"Someone swore that a few days ago at dusk, they saw your Coach Blake flying through the air while...eating Oreos!"

"..."

Why did Mr. Black fly up into the sky to eat Oreos?
Clark felt there were many flaws.

But knowing the truth, I found myself unable to refute it.

After all, Mr. Black is indeed Captain Comet.
"Ahem. You two..."

"I have things to do later, so I'll go to the classroom to pack up now. See you later."

He ignored Chloe's penetrating gaze and Pete's blank expression as he munched on potato chips, and practically flew out of the Torch office like a gust of wind.

After Clark practically fled, a brief silence fell over the office.

Pete glanced at the still slightly swaying door, shrugged, stuffed the last potato chip into his mouth, and mumbled a sigh:

"Looks like our 'helpful citizen' Mr. Kent has something new to keep him busy with..." He sighed, a hint of sympathy in his voice for his friend. "Schools, rugby team training, and now he has to be a 'helpful citizen' all the time..."

"Clark has had a tough time too."

"Oh, right," he added instinctively, as if suddenly remembering something, "and he's also been seeing Lana recently..."

But as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he had misspoke and quickly shut his mouth.

She looked at Chloe nervously, afraid of touching a sensitive nerve.

However, Chloe seemed not to have heard the second half of his sentence at all.

Her entire attention remained firmly fixed on the Superman action map.

Pete opened his mouth, looking at Chloe who was engrossed in her own world, hesitated for a moment, but couldn't help but speak up: "Chloe, Clark, he..."

"What happened to Clark?"

Chloe asked without looking up, her tone absentminded.

"You and him..."

Pete was momentarily at a loss for words.

But just then, Chloe suddenly looked up, interrupting Pete's stammering: "Pete! Look here!"

She pointed to a marked point on the map near the edge of Smallwell:

"According to my model, the area with a high probability of Superman appearing next is around here! Should we go and stake it out?"

Her tone became excited: "I heard from Sister Lois that she was the first person to take a clear picture of Superman and report that he personally rescued her! Her article was even published in the Daily Planet!"

"Wouldn't it be so cool if we could be the first campus reporter to officially interview Superman?!"

Pete looked at the fire burning in Chloe's eyes.

He opened his mouth, but swallowed back what he was about to say.

Then, infected by this enthusiasm, he nodded vigorously, and his own enthusiasm ignited:
"Of course! We have to try! We're going to be working for the Daily Planet someday! This is our first step towards becoming great journalists!"

"."

Chloe remained silent for a moment.

She glanced at him and accurately retorted:

"...Isn't your dream to participate in the American Robot Assembly Competition with Mr. Jonathan Kent and win first place?"

"Uh"

Pete's passionate expression froze, turning into a forced smirk: "That was a dream from before."

"When we failed to make it into the top 100 in the Metropolitan Division three times in a row, Uncle Jonathan and I... well, rationally gave up."

His tone carried a hint of frustration.

"Have you ever thought about trying a different region?"

As Chloe rolled up the map, she casually suggested, "How about Gotham?"

"I heard that it's been quite chaotic there lately, so I guess not many people have the time to participate in this kind of robot competition, and the competition might be much less intense."

Upon hearing this, Pitt seemed to have opened the door to a new world:
"That makes sense! Gotham! How come I didn't think of that!"

"Maybe we can actually get a place there!"

(End of this chapter)