American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 272 Divine Capital: I tested it, is there really a gold mine?!
Night gently enveloped Kent Farm.

In the living room, the fireplace cast a warm, orange-red glow, lengthening everyone's shadows on the old carpeted floor.

The air was filled with the rich, sweet aroma of chocolate cake and the savory scent of roast turkey, mixed with the crackling sound of burning old pine wood in the fireplace.

Together, they create a unique atmosphere in the home called 'peace of mind'.

"Where did that Clark kid go?" Jonathan muttered as he tried to stick a colored candle in the center of the cake. "The cake can't wait any longer."

Despite saying that, there was no real blame in his eyes, only a hint of understanding concern.

“Don’t worry, my old brother.” Locke sat in his beloved armchair and shrugged. “He must be held back by something. The kid knows what he’s doing.”

Martha and Kayla were bending down to tidy up the tablecloth on the dining table.

Hearing this, she looked up and smiled gently: "It's all because you spoiled them, Locke. The children all know that you'll handle anything, no matter how big the problem is."

As she spoke, her gaze inadvertently drifted towards the deep night outside the window.

I look forward to seeing a blurry red and blue trail returning home in the deep darkness of the night.

The other side of the living room.

Salafir was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, holding a beautifully packaged box about his size.

This was a gift he gave to his brothers.

Meanwhile, Shen Du lazily occupied the longest sofa.

There were also three gift boxes piled up in front of him.

According to him, it was nothing more than something salvaged from the garbage dump in the Dragon Court space.

Dior did not participate in the commotion in the center. He leaned against the door frame leading to the kitchen, his arms crossed, his posture as elegant as ever.

His gift had already been given.
Salafir was given an ancient dagger inlaid with jewels, said to be able to dispel nightmares.

For Shen Du, it was a complete set of Wayne Group's limited-edition gold chocolates covered with edible gold leaf.

Precisely catering to his preferences is also in line with his consistent style.

As for the corner of the living room.

Dante and Virgil were fast asleep, wrapped in the soft blankets of their crib.

Virgil's little hands unconsciously gripped Dante's face.

Dante, on the other hand, smacked his lips as if tasting something unknown in a dream.

They were completely unaware of the lively activity inside, which only added two touches of tranquility to this warm scene.

"Talk about it"

Jonathan took a sip of apple juice, then, as if suddenly remembering something, broke the brief silence with an undisguised laugh in his voice, "In this year's pumpkin contest, that guy Anthony's face was even yellower than our champion pumpkin!"

This remark immediately drew a low chuckle.

Martha shook her head helplessly. "He increased his spending again this year, going all out to get all sorts of weird seeds, and the result... sigh."

"This is the seventh time."

Locke clapped his hands, his tone tinged with helplessness, "I'm afraid he'll just move the greenhouse to the competition venue next year."

"Hmph." Shen Du swallowed a mouthful of pancake and lazily interjected, "Foolish mortals, trying to challenge the land that I... uh, that was nourished by my father's power, with mortal fertilizer."

“It’s great that our family won,” Salafir looked up, her big eyes full of curiosity, “but isn’t Uncle Anthony very sad?”

He had a very good impression of the 'Pumpkin General' who gave him lots of snacks during their chance encounter.

"Anthony won't be upset."

Locke walked over, ruffled the little guy's soft hair, and laughed, "Although he always complains, he actually enjoys it more than anyone else."

"After all, for someone like him who is already financially independent, isn't it pretty good to find a goal that he is willing to fight for his whole life?"

He paused, a sly glint in his eyes.

"after all."

"He has to dedicate his life to this goal."

Everyone burst into laughter upon hearing this.

Clearly, General Pumpkin will never see the back of King Pumpkin in his lifetime.
"And he wasn't without reward."

“Our pumpkins are usually snapped up by big companies, or they’re made into specimens and placed at the entrance of town as landmarks,” Locke chuckled. “So every year, the town’s dessert shops scramble to buy his ‘runner-up’ pumpkins. They’re big, taste pretty good, and the pumpkin pies they make are a hot commodity among tourists.”

"so."

Salafir seemed lost in thought, but then, as if finally unable to contain himself, he whispered the question that had been lingering in his mind since earlier:
"So, when is Brother Clark... coming back? For the present."

Before he finished speaking -

"boom!!!"

A dull thud suddenly came from outside.

It was as if something extremely heavy had crashed heavily onto the open ground of the farm.

The floor beneath their feet trembled slightly.

The living room fell silent, and everyone was stunned, exchanging bewildered glances.

But then, Clark's familiar voice pierced through the walls:

"Saraphir, God Capital, come out and see!"

The sudden turn of events and the call for help left everyone with no time to think.

Locke was the first to stand up, his eyebrows slightly raised, his eyes filled with complete composure.

Jonathan and Martha exchanged a surprised yet amused look.

Dior lowered his arms, while Shen Du temporarily forgot about the chocolate waffle in his mouth, a hint of curiosity flashing in his eyes.

So the family, filled with doubt and a vague expectation, filed out and pushed open the door.

then
They all froze on the porch, breathless at the incredible sight before them.

Not far in front of the main house, in an open space, bathed in the interplay of the bright moonlight and the warm light emanating from inside, stood a striking figure—

Mountain!
A mountain made entirely of gold!

It's not a metaphor, but a literal gold mountain!

"Oh My God……"

Martha covered her mouth and whispered in disbelief.

“It’s a mountain of gold!” Kayla exclaimed in surprise.

Jonathan instinctively adjusted his hat, as if to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

This mountain
How many dairy cows would that be enough to buy?!
Shen Du, however, reacted most directly.

Those golden eyes, which had been lazily half-closed, were now wide open, their pupils almost shrinking into two thin vertical lines, and the light emanating from them was even brighter than the golden mountain before them!
He subconsciously took a step forward, his mouth slightly open.
His expression was like that of a ravenous dragon eyeing a Manchu Han Imperial Feast.

Salafir was also shocked, her mouth agape, and the gift box in her arms almost slipped out of her hands.

"This...this is...a mountain made of gold?"

His limited vocabulary was insufficient to accurately describe this surreal scene.

Dior's gaze swept over the golden mountain.

After his initial surprise, he curled his lip and let out a soft sneer.

Locke stood at the front, looking at the golden mountain that had appeared out of nowhere, and then at Clark, who was standing beside the mountain, his clothes still a little disheveled, but smiling incredibly brightly.

The boy felt a little embarrassed by his family's stares. He scratched the back of his head, letting the unruly strand of black curly hair stick up in the night breeze.

"It was last time."

He explained, glancing at his brother who was staring wide-eyed, “When Mr. Black and I were going for a spin in outer space.”

"He and I discovered this on a lifeless asteroid belt..."

"Mr. Black said that its composition is very rare, and even in the entire universe, it belongs to an extremely rare high-concentration pure gold ore vein."

“So,” he pointed to the dazzling mountain of gold, “I… um… put in a little effort and brought it back.”

As he spoke, Clark looked at Shen Du with a gentle smile on his face.

"Shen Du, this is a birthday present for you. Didn't you say... you wanted a mountain of gold?"

"I……"

Shen Du opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a complete sentence immediately.

He subconsciously took a few steps forward and stretched out his slightly trembling hand.

I gently touched the stone.

Then, taking a deep breath, he turned around abruptly, his golden eyes flashing with an alarming light: "Father! I can spread them all over my Dragon Court! No, I will use them to build a throne! And more..."

"You rascal," Locke chuckled helplessly, then cautioned, "You'd better keep something this rare safe and don't waste it."

"Of course!" Shen Du seemed to have thought of something, his eyes lit up, and his voice rose an octave. "That's right! This is only for collection! How could it possibly be used!"

"How could I possibly desecrate this perfect creation, these cosmic treasures?!"

As he spoke, he practically pounced on the mountain of gold.

He rubbed his cheek affectionately against a huge gold nugget, making satisfied murmurs.

Completely immersed in this wealth that surpasses even dreams.

Clark couldn't help but laugh at his brother's expression, but he also earnestly reminded him, "It's great that you think that way."

"The amount of gold is too large; it will definitely cause chaos once it enters the market."

"So, it really can only be placed here, for you... um... to appreciate."

"what?!"

Before Shen Du could speak, Jonathan said with regret, "We can only watch?!"

“Dad,” Clark said helplessly, “do you want to see rivers of blood flowing into the market? We can just enjoy the spectacle.”

"Appreciation! Yes! Appreciation!"

Shen Du immediately agreed, clutching a large gold nugget tightly as if it were his closest companion in the world. "I will cherish them! Every day! Every moment!"

He had already begun to plan in his mind how to utilize the power of the Dragon Court Space.
He transformed this gold mine into a luxurious vault that belonged only to him.

"Quack! Then don't make me watch anymore!" Jonathan said sadly, turning around to look at the sky. "Locke, put this mountain away! Stop provoking me!"

"."

Looking at Shen Du's expression, as if he wanted to merge with Jinshan, and Jonathan's depressed look.

Locke shook his head and smiled helplessly.

He stepped forward, gently placed his palm on the cold golden mountain, and his mind stirred slightly.

The next moment, the massive mountain of gold seemed to be swallowed up by an invisible giant mouth and disappeared from the spot, leaving only a huge crater in the grass.

"Eh--!"

Shen Du's arms suddenly felt empty. He remained in the embracing position, standing there with lingering disappointment, his golden eyes filled with unexpected loss. He muttered softly, "I haven't seen enough yet..."

Seeing his younger brother's expression, Clark couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Then, as if by magic, she produced another beautifully packaged box from behind her back and handed it to Salafir, who was staring at her expectantly. "Here you go, Salafir."

Unlike God, whose desires are insatiable.

Salafir's happiness was always so simple and pure.

He took the box with delight and eagerly tore open the wrapping paper. Inside lay a brand-new game console that he had been longing for for a long time.

The little guy's eyes lit up instantly. He hugged the game console, a happy and bright smile spreading across his face: "Thank you! Brother Clark! I wanted this for a while!"

Nodding, Clark turned his gaze to Dio, whose expression remained indifferent.

He walked over and took a small velvet box out of his pocket.

Inside is an exquisitely crafted platinum necklace with a pendant of interlaced golden wheat ears encircling a simple yet powerful 'K'.

"Dio."

Clark handed over the box, and said apologetically, "This is a new craft that Mr. Black and I learned. We made it little by little in one of his workshops."

"Maybe...it's not that refined."

Dior lowered his eyes, his gaze lingering for a moment on the simple necklace.

He neither said yes nor no, but simply reached out and took the velvet box, then casually put it into his coat pocket without even looking at it.

At the same time, he also took out a similarly small hard box from his pocket and tossed it to Clark decisively.

"Give"

His tone remained cold: "Take off those silly black-rimmed glasses of yours."

Clark instinctively took the box, opened it, and took a look.

Inside was a pair of exquisitely crafted gold-rimmed glasses.

He paused for a moment, then a genuine smile appeared on his face.

He replaced his somewhat silly black-rimmed glasses with new gold-rimmed ones, which made him look more refined and elegant.

“Thank you, Dior,” Clark said sincerely.

Dior snorted coldly, his gaze sweeping over the spot where the gold mountain had vanished, a hint of mockery in his eyes:
“You gave him a mountain of gold this year, Clark.”

This is good.

"But I'm curious, what are you planning to give him for his birthday next year?"

"A diamond planet?"

“I advise you,” he said with a slight smile, “that you should start preparing now.”

Clark's smile froze.

He opened his mouth, his eyes filled with terror.

The expression is visible to the naked eye.
"I haven't thought about what to do next year at all."

In the end, all the emotions turned into a sigh of despair that left him speechless with grief.

He followed the laughing and joking Martha, Jonathan, and Salafir, who was engrossed in her new game console, and the still-unsatisfied God, into the house, looking dejected.

The noise subsided, and tranquility returned outside, leaving only the twinkling of countless stars.

The night breeze rustled the corn leaves.

Dio and Locke, who were lagging behind, both slowed down their pace.

Locke, with his hands in his pockets and gazing into the deep night, asked seemingly casually, "Have you been busy with work lately?"

Dior also had his hands in his pockets.

His expression remained unchanged, and his words drifted like night fog: "Some old trees are dying, and the soil under their roots is becoming loose, giving new vines room to grow."

Locke didn't ask any further questions, but simply stopped and turned around, his tall figure casting a reliable shadow under the starlight.

"That's good, but don't forget, Dior."

"No matter how lush or how climbing a vine is, its roots are here."

"If the wind and rain outside are too strong, you can go home."

Dior did not turn around, nor did he respond.

He simply tilted his head slightly, gazing at the twinkling stars in the sky, as if he could glimpse the ever-burning neon reflection of Gotham in that cold sea of ​​stars.

"Om..."

He felt a very slight vibration in his chest.

Dio stopped and watched his father's broad back until it disappeared under the porch. Only then did he slowly take out his communicator from his pocket and press the answer button.

"what happened?"

He spoke, his voice very low.

A respectful voice immediately came from the other end of the communicator: "Your Majesty."

A single name can carve out a unique dimension for Gotham in the quiet night.

"As you instructed, the news has 'naturally' reached Cobblestone's ears."

"He should now be convinced that an irreconcilable rift has emerged within the Falcone family, and... they are secretly seeking contact with Black Mask in an attempt to reach some degree of 'understanding' or cooperation."

Dio listened quietly, as if he could see the fat 'penguin' pacing back and forth in his warehouse full of 'toys' after hearing the news.

"very good."

Dior said calmly, "It seems our dear 'partner'..."

"I don't want my 'toys' to rot in the warehouse."

He paused slightly, letting the night breeze ruffle the blond hair on his forehead:
"Then let him go. Let's see what interesting things we can find under those dead old tree roots, besides the rot."

On the other end of the phone, Rocman whispered his acceptance.

After the call ended, Dio put the metal that connected him to another world back into his arms. He turned around and slowly walked step by step toward the house in front of him, which was bathed in warm yellow light.

Before him lay his home and his roots.

Behind him lay a field waiting for him to take control, to prune, or...

Go to the jungle called Gotham, which you have burned to the ground with your own hands.

(End of this chapter)