American comics: Starting with replicating Superman's talent

Chapter 167 The Adventures of Clark

Earlier, before Keno arrived in Brooklyn.

Germany.

An unnamed dense forest.

The gloomy weather and the light drizzle falling from the dark clouds dampened the soil, leaving behind small puddles in the uneven ground.

The gray-white high wall, made of cement, rises into the clouds, and the cold, sharp barbed wire mesh intertwines and twists to form a solid and insurmountable defense.

The mud walls were surrounded by watchtowers and towers, and on the towers, soldiers wearing blue-black uniforms and steel helmets stood guard with expressionless faces.

From beneath the high walls.

Rows of German-style houses are situated here. If one ignores the iron fence that separates the houses from the buildings, one might mistake this place for a tourist destination.

Countless people, dressed in rags or even barely clothed, walked orderly through this open-air prison, letting the gray rain beat down on their bodies, yet their eyes remained lifeless, numbly following the main group.

Dull, oppressive, numb – these are the gray melodies of this open-air prison.

It seems that death is perhaps the only escape here.

"Snapped!"

An elderly woman fell into the mud. She frantically reached out for help from her companions, but was met only with cold, indifferent stares.

In this place, no one dares to indulge the few remaining vestiges of kindness in their hearts. The saints and nobles are long dead; those who survive are the ruthless and the despicable.

"Splash splash~"

The sound of orderly footsteps echoed from behind, and the old woman's eyes grew even more desperate as she listened to the sound of military boots stomping through the rain.

Two German soldiers walked up behind the old woman, and one of them took an MP36 submachine gun from his back.

In this prison, falling behind means death.

Aim at the back.

"Da da da~"

Water droplets hit the hot gun barrel, causing white smoke to rise.

As the German soldiers put away their weapons, it signified the end of the old woman's life.

The floral linen dress was soaked with blood, and the rainwater stained the clothes, causing the blood to spread across the entire back.

His eyes, wide open in death, were filled with despair and resentment, and his gaze was fixed on the crowd of his own people.

In the crowd, a thin little boy timidly stared at the old woman's wide eyes until his father reached out and blocked the boy's view.

"Eric, stop looking."

The boy pursed his lips and silently averted his gaze.

People die every day, and Eric doesn't know if he'll be next.

He slowly raised his head and looked through the rain at a two-story building outside the iron fence. A high-ranking official in military uniform was standing there with his hands behind his back, watching everything with great interest.

That was undoubtedly the master of this base, and also the demon in everyone's heart.

until.

"boom!"

Like stars cast down from the heavens in a fit of rage by a star god, a violent tremor caused the air to vibrate.

People looked up at the sky.

A meteorite trailing a fiery tail seemed to pierce through the rain curtain, carrying a circular shockwave that broke through the surrounding air before crashing into the distant dense forest.

"boom!"

The explosion ripped through the soil, snapped tree trunks, and shattered branches and leaves. The shockwave from the explosion spread outwards from the meteorite.

Young Eric hid behind his father, watching the officer on the high-rise building. He saw the shockwave shatter the glass, the officer's cap fly off, and he fell to the ground in a sorry state.

The shockwave of fear subsided after only a few seconds, replaced by the piercing siren of an alarm bell blaring over the camp.

The soldiers shouted "Enemy attack!" in German, each gripping their guns, and rushed into the dense forest under the command of their officers, intending to investigate the site of the meteorite fall.

They traversed the dense forest and crossed the stream until they reached the deep pit that emitted thick black smoke.

A daring German soldier peeked out, and soon a terrified cry rang out: "Quickly notify the officer! A person has fallen from the sky!"

The messenger brought the message, and soon after, a tall, slender man wearing glasses and using the alias Klaus Schmidt rushed over.

He ran so fast that he lost one of his military boots.

This farcical scene should have made the soldiers laugh in secret, but no one dared to utter a sound. The cruelty shown to the civilians in the camp even terrified the soldiers.

Schmidt stood in front of the pit, reached out and took off his glasses, which were covered in water droplets. He wiped his face and stood on tiptoe to look into the pit.

From inside that pit, a tall, perfectly proportioned young man, shirtless, lay unconscious with his eyes closed.

There were some red marks on the skin, seemingly from friction as it passed through the atmosphere.

"Click~"

Schmidt's adjutant silently loaded a bullet, his eyes asking the man whether he should fire.

"No, you can't shoot!"

Schmidt snatched the pistol away, his eyes flashing with greed as he stared at Clark in the crater.

"Splash!"

The man slid down into the ditch, his buttocks scraping the ground. He scrambled towards Clark, his hand pounding on his muscular chest with a fervent look, exclaiming, "This thing is a gift from God! How could you shoot it?"

As he spoke, the man pulled a small knife from his pocket and viciously stabbed it into his chest.

"Click!"

A finely crafted and expensive dagger, when pierced into the skin, feels like stabbing into a stone, causing no harm whatsoever.

Schmidt exerted force again, and the blade snapped in the next instant, but the fanatical look on the man's face intensified.

"This is a gift from God!"

He waved his hand, signaling the soldiers to go down into the pit. Looking at Clark's sleeping face, he chuckled, "Take him back to camp!"

.....

Clark didn't know how long he had slept; it was like a bizarre dream.

In his dream, he saw himself killing many people, covered in blood.

The dream was so vivid that Clark's heart raced and his breathing quickened.

"what!"

After a series of heavy breaths, the boy suddenly opened his eyes, straightened up, and looked terrified.

"Where am I?"

After calming his breathing slightly, Clark looked around with a puzzled expression.

The sheets are white, and a single bed is placed not far away, surrounded by rustic wallpaper.

The air was filled with the smell of disinfectant.

An iron gate is embedded in the wall; it is the only exit from this house.

Clark frowned slightly.

He seemed to have arrived in an unfamiliar place. Shouldn't he be in the town hospital? How did he suddenly end up here?

"Click~"

Before Clark could figure out what had happened, the iron door was pushed open, and two heavily armed soldiers walked into the room, standing one in front of the other on the left and one behind, holding steel guns.

Looking at the military uniforms on the two men, Clark's expression became even more puzzled.

Why are these two wearing uniforms from the WWII-era Little Mustache unit? Did they accidentally fall asleep and end up in Hollywood?

"Sir."

A man wearing glasses walked into the house with a smile. He looked at Clark, and Clark looked at him.

Their eyes met, and the man smiled and extended his hand first: "My name is Dr. Klaus Schmidt. Welcome to Germany."

Clark: !

(End of this chapter)