Superman

If we talk about the main universe of time and space, all undercurrents are hidden on the calm surface, gradually showing signs of a stormy crisis.

So the world Luke lives in is simply like the retirement life of retired workers, slow and monotonous.

"Try harder, haven't you eaten?"

"Think of me as Lana's quarterback boyfriend, yeah, that's it, beat me up hard!"

"Too weak, too weak... Kakarot! You are not even qualified to be my opponent now!"

"..."

In the past, we would have faced such a boring world.

Luke may choose to pass the time by collecting stamps of Hollywood actresses and constantly repairing cars.

But now, he has found more interesting entertainment activities.

That is to train the little cousin from Krypton!

Under the private residence, there is a spacious training ground.

Bang bang!

Bang bang bang!

There was a series of muffled thunderous sounds, like firecrackers exploding.

The fists were like fast and rhythmic drum beats, falling on Clark continuously.

He was like a human punching bag. He could only hold his head with his hands and passively bear the violent attack of his elder cousin, without even any room for counterattack.

This is the training process these days.

He was beaten repeatedly until he could no longer stand up.

"I, I admit defeat, cousin!"

Clark, who felt exhausted, was panting violently and even spoke intermittently.

"Clark, your will is not strong enough. You should say, 'I can fight you all day long'!"

Luke withdrew his fist and said with a hint of disgust: "It's so unmanly to admit defeat so quickly!"

Clark took off his tattered gloves, and his body felt like it had been hollowed out.

The whole person was sitting on the rough, hard ground, with his chest rising and falling like a bellows.

He looked up and saw his eldest cousin's heavy fists that could kill him, and felt his sore muscles.

If I had to fight with my eldest cousin for a whole day, I would probably die on the spot and everyone would be gone.

"I still can't learn to fight..."

Clark shook his head, a little frustrated.

In front of Luke? He looked extremely clumsy.

Can't punch fast enough and react slowly? You'll only get punched every time.

The only difference is the length of time you persist.

"Fighting requires long training, Clark."

Luke waved his hand. This amount of exercise was just a warm-up at best, not to mention panting. He didn't even sweat.

"I just want you to learn how to control power first."

At the beginning, every time Clark punched, he used all his strength to punch the air.

Every step you take can make cracks and holes in the solid ground.

If Luke's biological force field hadn't enveloped the surrounding area? I'm afraid this house would have been demolished.

"At least you have now learned how to control the force of your punches so that you won't lose control again."

Luke smiled slightly and threw a hot towel to his little cousin.

The Kryptonian's physique is strong, even if he was used as a sandbag for two hours in a row.

Clark is still alive and well, just a little sore in his muscles.

Just a few minutes in the sun and you'll probably be fine.

This is why Luke is so enthusiastic about training his little cousin.

Ever since he became stronger and stronger? He couldn't even find a suitable punching bag.

Now, Clark is undoubtedly a good choice.

Who could take a beating better than a Kryptonian?

"Then when can I learn to fly?"

Clark always remembered the wonderful feeling of overlooking the planet from a high place.

"When you can resist the gravity of the earth, you can fly."

For true Kryptonians, flying is not an ability.

They can use their powerful bodies and biological force fields to get rid of the pull of gravity.

For example, Zod was born with the genetic template of a Kryptonian general implanted into him.

Combat talent and team leadership ability are directly maxed out.

So when he came to Earth, he quickly got used to the atmosphere and gravity.

Things like flying and thermal vision can be mastered quickly.

"Cousin, I still have something to do."

Clark rested for a while, wiped the sweat off his body, then stood up and said.

He recently joined the school's football team and has close contact with his crush, Lana, every day.

Coupled with my cousin's daily special training, although my back is sore, I am indeed more in control of my body than before, and I no longer have to worry about hurting others.

All in all, life seems to be on the fast track.

Everything is so satisfying.

"A lot of strange things may happen in the town recently. If there is any danger, remember to shout for help."

Luke smiled meaningfully. He understood the threat of kryptonite to Superman, but he did not say it directly.

Because telling Clark makes no sense and will only raise more questions.

This small town is Superman's novice village.

He needs to continuously complete tasks and accumulate experience in order to become a beacon of hope for the metropolis in the future.

…

…

Time passed by silently, and between school and his older cousin's daily special training, Clark felt that his life was fulfilling.

And the first task he has to face will happen in a week.

On this day, he accompanied his mother to the bank in town to withdraw money.

Thanks to the secret help of his eldest cousin, the size of the Kent farm has approximately doubled.

Adoptive father Jonathan started to get busy and took out his savings to buy a batch of brand new farm tools and machines.

"Seventeen years ago, the meteorite rain hit the small town and caused a lot of casualties."

Mrs. Kent smiled and talked about that past incident. It was when she and her husband were driving home that they picked up Clark who fell from the sky.

Because of that disaster, many families were broken up and innocent people lost their lives. Subsequently, registration status became much simpler.

Jonathan spent a lot of effort and successfully registered with the Population and Social Security Administration.

Ever since, Clark Kent has transformed from an alien into an American citizen.

"Mom, thank you for adopting me."

Clark often wondered what would have happened if he had fallen somewhere else instead of on a farm in Kansas.

"You gave us hope, Clark."

Mrs. Kent took her son's arm and walked into the bank together.

But not long after, two gangsters wearing presidential masks broke in.

"President Kennedy" armed with a double-barreled shotgun led the way.

They seemed to be fully prepared and sent one person in first to inspect the location.

After observing for a moment, the gangster wearing a "President Roosevelt" mask quickly knocked down the security guard inside.

Then, standing at the door, the two security guards whose attention was attracted made the remaining accomplices fall to the ground.

"Don't move! Everyone squat down!"

"President Kennedy" fired a gun into the air without worrying about attracting the police.

Small towns are no better than big cities and have strict security measures.

Even if the police station rushes over immediately after receiving the bank's alarm bell, it will still take seven or eight minutes.

This time was enough for them to fill two traveling bags with banknotes.

In fact, robbery is an illegal job that pays great attention to efficiency.

Getting the most results in the shortest time is the goal.

Those gangsters who broke into a bank, caused an accident, and were quickly blocked by the police.

To some extent, they are not professional enough.

"Open the vault and put the money in! Hurry up. If anyone delays, I will shoot him in the head."

The three gangsters quickly took control of the situation. Faced with a double-barreled shotgun, the bank employees and town residents obediently put their heads in their hands and squatted on the ground.

It's like being robbed on the road, just hand over your wallet honestly and don't try to resist, otherwise you may get a bullet.

"President Jefferson" used a Colt pistol to force the bank manager and an employee to open the vault and load the money.

The other one was standing guard at the door, looking out to scan the situation.

They have a clear division of labor, and there is no panic at all. I guess they are not novices.

"It's okay, Mom, it will be over soon."

Clark stared at the gun-wielding gangsters. Out of his inner sense of justice, he wanted to jump out immediately to stop these bad guys from committing crimes.

But considering his mother's safety and the need to hide his identity, Clark could only temporarily suppress the complicated mood of being eager to try.

When your life is under the control of others, every second passes is so painful.

The "President Kennedy" holding a double-barreled shotgun seemed to enjoy the feeling of having the power of life and death.

The muzzle of the gun kept moving, and every movement caused a whimper of fear.

"Boss, that's it."

The long minutes finally passed, and "President Roosevelt" threw the two stuffed travel bags on the ground.

The leader, "President Kennedy," kicked the bag in front of his accomplice at the door and asked him to throw it into the trunk of the car.

He was not sure if the town police were still on their way, so he raised his hand and looked at the time.

Only eight minutes have passed.

"Choose a hostage and get in the car."

The leader, "President Kennedy", was carrying a bag of money and said to his other accomplices.

"President Roosevelt", who was holding a Colt pistol, took a quick glance and finally selected Mrs. Kent, who was shaking and looking very scared.

Female, middle age, probably housewife...

Such a label will make the police feel afraid and dare not take action directly.

The gangsters roughly grabbed Mrs. Kent and tried to take her away.

This brother didn't know that his path was narrow.

Even General Zod was pinned to the ground and rubbed for trying to hurt Superman's mother.

If other people do this, you can imagine the consequences.

"Clark!"

Just when Mrs. Kent screamed, Superman, who could no longer endure it, pounced like an angry bull with red eyes.

Bang!

Thanks to his cousin's recent daily special training, Clark did not turn the gangster into a puddle of ketchup.

Caught off guard, he overturned the opponent with his head, and the Colt pistol that might have posed a "threat" slipped out.

"Fake! You little brat!"

The gangster did not expect that his boat would capsize in the ditch and be pinned to the ground by a high school student.

However, before he could do anything, a powerful fist smashed the bridge of his nose.

It felt like his cheek had been scraped with a steel knife, and large chunks of skin were rubbed away.

This was the result of Clark holding back his strength.

Otherwise, the opponent's head may explode like a watermelon.

Warm blood splashed on his face.

It was his first time to fight with someone and see blood. Clark was at a loss.

He stood up in a panic, and then saw two gangsters approaching outside the door.

The double-barreled shotgun was pointed at Clark's chest, and the gang leader wearing a "President Kennedy" mask let out a cruel laugh.

boom!

A cloud of smoke dispersed.

Strong kinetic energy and shrapnel hit Superman.

Everyone in the bank covered their mouths, as if they couldn't bear to watch anymore.

Such a young life was about to die at the hands of gangsters... What a tragedy.

Especially Mrs. Kent, who was so excited that she almost fainted.

But after a few seconds, the bloody scene they expected did not appear.

Clark subconsciously looked at the chest where he was shot, feeling a slight sting and couldn't help but take a few steps back.

Other than that, there was no other reaction.

"What the hell kind of monster are you?"

Now it was the gang leader's turn to be shocked.

The young-looking high school student in front of me is okay after being hit by a shotgun?

He didn't believe in evil, so he pulled the bolt and prepared to do it again.

But Clark did not give "President Kennedy" this chance. He also learned a lesson from his elder cousin, not to allow the enemy any room to counterattack.

In a few steps, he crossed the distance between the two of them.

Raise your hand to hold the double-barreled shotgun and squeeze it hard!

Crunch!

It makes a heartbreaking sound of metal deforming.

The barrel of the gun was instantly twisted into a twist.

Bang!

Clark easily snatched the scrapped gun from the gang leader's hand, and then used it as a baseball bat to throw it at the gang leader's head.

This time, he controlled his strength perfectly.

It could result in a severe concussion at most, but it would never be life-threatening.

When the only remaining gangster, "President Jefferson" saw this scene, he hurriedly climbed into the car without looking back, started the engine, and drove away.

Clark wanted to catch up, but then suddenly stopped.

He couldn't leave his mother alone in the bank, it might be dangerous.

Ten seconds later, the bank staff confirmed that the gangster had left, and gathered around Clark, looking at him with surprised eyes.

At this time, Superman realized something.

It seems that the secret of being a Saiyan has been exposed?

In desperation, Clark took action angrily, having long forgotten the reminders of his adoptive father Jonathan.

After finishing dealing with the gangsters who robbed the bank, he remembered that he shouldn't have done this.

"You saved us!"

"This kid is a hero!"

"He was not injured..."

"..."

All kinds of sounds crowded into Clark's ears, and he became a little at a loss and didn't know what to do.

For the first time in his life, he became the center of attention and was called a "hero".

Clark was not used to it, so he carefully pushed away those people surrounding him.

He helped his frightened mother up and prepared to leave.

At this time, the piercing siren sounded.

The police finally arrived.

But they only saw two unconscious gangsters and a cheerful bank employee.

How did this happen?

The policeman had question marks written all over his face.

This scene didn't look like a bank robbery, but more like some kind of themed rave party.

"Officer, that's the kid in the school uniform."

Someone pointed at Clark and said.

"Everyone said you were the one who defeated these two armed gangsters?"

A fat police officer with a beer belly came over to ask. He observed the scene for a while intentionally or unintentionally, and found the double-barreled shotgun that had been twisted into a twist.

"Did you do this too?"

Clark was a little cautious. He scratched his head and didn't know how to explain.

"Don't be nervous, kid, I'm just taking a confession. You stopped a bank robbery and saved everyone present. They are all grateful to you, and the police station will also give you a reward."

The fat police officer was experienced and slowed down his tone, trying to dispel Clark's alertness, and then started to talk.

"Tell me, how did you defeat them?"

A high school student taking down two armed gangsters sounds like a fantasy.

Clark's throat rolled twice, and he remembered the words taught by his elder cousin, and replied: "Officer, I, I am born with supernatural powers, and I can knock them over just by swinging my fist."

The fat police officer's round face suddenly turned serious.

"Then this is also your natural power?"

He pointed at Clark's chest, where the clothes were so tattered that a hole was exposed.

Those are shotgun marks.