American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 97: Young Master Lex is eating heartily. (Still updating with 10,000 words, please subscribe!)

In the Kent family's dining room.

Warm yellow light shines on the oak dining table, illuminating a wide variety of home-cooked dishes.

The special barbecued ribs exude an enticing aroma, the creamy corn soup is steaming, and the freshly baked garlic bread is golden and crispy.

Lex Luthor was feasting in a manner that was completely different from his usual elegant image.

He held the fork in his left hand and the knife in his right, and his movements were so fast that they almost left afterimages.

Pieces of tender and juicy steak disappeared into his mouth at an astonishing speed, and his cheeks bulged like a hamster hoarding food.

“Wow, this is so delicious.”

He mumbled, his fork already reaching for his third baked potato.

This scene left Clark, Locke and Jonathan, who were sitting across the table, stunned.

This... is this still the little Luther they remember, who is always well-dressed, behaves elegantly, and seems to be out of touch with the world?
The Lex in front of him looked like a wild man who had just been released from a wilderness survival show!
"belch--!"

After burping in an ungraceful manner, Luther continued to eat as if he were a refugee who had been hungry for three days.

Jonathan wiped the sweat from his forehead and couldn't help but say:

"Lex, what has Lionel done to you these past few years? To make you so hungry?"

Luther shrugged, his mouth full of food:
"Nothing much, just eating nutrient paste every day."

He said it lightly.

"."

There was a brief silence at the table.

Nutri-Gibberish? Lionel Luthor's son?

"How could Lionel do this!" Martha sighed distressedly: "Poor child."

She stood up, her apron still stained with flour.

"Lex, eat slowly, I'll make you some more."

“Thank you, Auntie.”

Luther raised his head and gave a bright smile that was extremely sincere and even a little childish.

There was a funny bit of dark brown gravy at the corner of his mouth.

At this moment, the aristocratic aloofness that he had deliberately maintained finally disappeared, revealing the appearance of an ordinary young man of his age, completely different from the flawless elite style when he first entered the house.

Watching his friend wolfing down his food, Clark silently pushed the last piece of neatly cut steak left on his plate to the edge of Lex's plate.

but
"Clark." Luther chuckled. "You've been so tired this afternoon, you should eat more."

"Effortful?"

Locke keenly caught this key word, put down the water cup in his hand, and looked between Clark and Lex with questioning eyes.

"Nothing." Luther winked cunningly, his eyes drifting towards Clark who froze for a moment, "It's just that my car had a little problem and almost disturbed Clark and his daughter..."

"Lex!"

Clark's face flushed instantly, and his hands shook so much that he almost bent his fork.

"Cough cough."

Pretending to cough a few times due to choking, Luther took the opportunity to stuff another spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

He lowered his head and hunched his shoulders suspiciously.

After the laughter died down, he put down his cutlery and stood up solemnly.
"Clark, thank you for saving me."

"Thank you so much!"

He nodded slightly, expressing his most sincere gratitude.

Being thanked so solemnly, Clark was actually at a loss. He waved his hands repeatedly:
"No, it's nothing, Lex, there's really no need to be like this."

"Lex." Locke smiled gently, "Didn't you save Dio back then? No need to thank me, it's all my duty."

"Uncle Locke." Luther was slightly startled, and looked at Locke with a look of nostalgia and a hint of relief, and then showed a warm smile: "You are still the same as before."

Gentle and peaceful.
It’s as if you can see the essence of people and things.

With the father who has always been calculating and always superior over the years
Very different.

"So, Lex."

Clark quickly changed the subject, trying to get rid of the embarrassment just now:
"Are you here to visit us on behalf of Uncle Lionel?"

The table suddenly became quiet.

Luther picked up the napkin and wiped his mouth elegantly. He was silent for a moment, and when he looked up again, a relaxed, even slightly cynical smile was on his face.

“Not really.”

He spoke cheerfully, picking up the juice and gently turning it, "I just want to come back, return to Smallville, and enjoy the pastoral life."

"By the way, take care of Smallville's Lionel Enterprises assets. There's also a chemical plant and a few banks here that need to be looked after."

Locke frowned slightly.

Although Lionel knew Lex was smart, he couldn't be at ease.
"What about your studies?" Locke asked tentatively, with the concern of an elder.

Luther chuckled, "I've taught myself everything, Uncle Locke."

"Don't forget, I'm actually three years older than Dio and Clark."

Locke suddenly realized and slapped his forehead: "Look at my memory! Yes, you are eighteen years old!"

The young man before him had a tall and straight figure and sharp eyes, and he had long since lost his youthful immaturity.
He was no longer the quiet little boy who followed Lionel around.

"Yes, eighteen years old."

Luther glanced meaningfully at Clark, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "I should also enjoy Clark's... well... colorful extracurricular activities." "Lex!" Clark wailed, burying his face in his hands.

Jonathan and Locke laughed at the same time.

"Clark, you're not..." Jonathan winked mischievously and deliberately prolonged his tone, "In~"

"That should be it."

Locke also joined in the teasing.

Um.
In fact, they had heard about this gossip from Sarafel a long time ago.

"Sarafil!"

Clark suddenly raised his head, and his shameful and angry eyes were like a searchlight, instantly locking onto the black-haired boy at the other end of the dining table who was trying to shrink into a ball, wishing he could squeeze himself into the gap between the chairs, and trying his best to reduce his presence.

"hey-hey."

Sarafiel grinned and, like a kitten that had done something wrong, he quickly slipped to Lex for shelter.

"Brother Lex."

The boy tilted his head back, his voice soft and frank with a child's characteristic straightforwardness.

"That... that chemical plant that's emitting smoke, is it yours?"

Lex was stunned for a moment, then looked down at the little one hiding beside him, and then nodded:
"Well, yes, it's under my control for the time being. What's the matter? You don't like it?"

Sarafiel nodded vigorously: "Yeah!"

"Okay." Lex agreed without hesitation, as if he was just deciding whether to add sugar to tomorrow's American breakfast. "Since Sarafiel doesn't like it, I'll turn it off when I get home."

He made a light statement, as if shutting down a valuable chemical plant employing hundreds of workers was like turning off an insignificant light.

"Lex, you..."

Locke held his forehead and felt a dull pain in his temple.

That chemical plant is indeed a major polluter, but it is also the pillar industry of the Lionel Group in Smallville. The livelihoods of a considerable number of families in the town depend on it.
Even nearly one-fifth of jobs are derived from it.

After it was built, it solved the unemployment problem of a large number of Smallville farmers.

"It's okay, Uncle Locke."

Lex's smile carried a sophistication that belied his age.

"That's Lionel Group's stuff. What does it have to do with me, Lex?"

He put down his napkin gracefully, his tone calm but with unquestionable determination:
"As for the issue of lost jobs, don't worry, I have a better solution."

"I will build a new, cleaner, more efficient technical center here, providing more and better jobs."

"But this is still too reckless. The jobs of hundreds of people are not a trivial matter. It takes time," Locke tried to analyze rationally.

"Uncle, I support you!" Jonathan suddenly slammed the table and cheered, "Lex, well done! Your Uncle Jonathan has long disliked that chemical plant that discharges sewage every day!"

"If it weren't for Lionel, I would have brought people to protest at the door! Good job!"

"."

Locke glared at his brother helplessly.

This bastard who only wants to cause chaos in the world.
You're actually making trouble again!
Just as he was about to say something, Martha came out of the kitchen carrying a steaming blueberry pie.

"Come, Lex, try some of Auntie's special blueberry pie."

"Yes! Thank you, Auntie!"

Lex's smile instantly grew warmer.

It was as if the person who had just casually decided the fate of the factory was not him at all.

Okay, okay.
Looking at the happy scene at the dinner table, Locke finally chose not to say anything more.

He looked at Lex, who was chatting and laughing with everyone, and seemed particularly relaxed and even a little childish in the warm atmosphere of the Kent family, and his heart was filled with emotion.

This child has indeed changed and become more independent.
but
Looking at his laughing family, Locke picked up a piece of sweet blueberry pie and put it into his mouth.

I couldn't help but laugh.
Also, who are these people sitting here now?
Is it exactly the same as I remember?
-
The camera cuts back to the Iceberg Club.
A crazy scene is unfolding in Gotham's most luxurious nightclub.

The spotlight pierced the darkness like a sharp sword, enveloping the blond boy in the center of the stage in a dazzling halo.

Dior stood in the center of the stage with his arms folded like an emperor, his slender figure casting a sharp silhouette under the lights.

"Diego! Diego!"

Waves of screams erupted in the dance floor, one louder than the other.

Those ladies and socialites who are usually dignified and elegant have completely thrown away their reserve at this moment. They are wearing Christian Louboutin high heels, waving Chanel handbags, and their faces with exquisite makeup are full of enthusiasm.

Some people even ripped open silk dresses worth tens of thousands of dollars just to get closer to the stage.

Dio nodded slightly, his scarlet eyes sweeping across the frenzied crowd below the stage.

The corners of his mouth curled up in a faint arc——

This feeling of being the center of attention isn't too bad.

Beside him, Lady Alana's cheeks were flushed and her breathing was rapid.

This social queen, who is usually known for her coldness and arrogance, is now as helpless as a little girl.

Her carefully tied hair had become loose in a few strands, and her expensive diamond earrings were flashing a blurry light in the violent shaking.

“That’s fantastic.”

She muttered to herself, her fingers painted with scarlet nail polish unconsciously grasping her sleeves.

This feeling of being envied by all the women in the audience, this feeling of standing in the center of the spotlight.
Her legs crossed unnaturally, and the skin beneath her silk dress flushed an unnatural red.

Alana Falcone felt like a queen.

(End of this chapter)