Clark stared at the field, speechless for a long time.
He walked closer, squatted down, and when he grabbed a handful of dirt, he was completely stunned.
The soil in his hand was fine and soft.
Every grain of soil was evenly loose and fluffy, full of air, and looked especially suitable for seeds to germinate.
The quality of this tilling was better than if he had driven a tractor back and forth three times.
He suddenly felt that Kara's previous worries seemed a bit superfluous.
Having this guy work on the farm seemed... pretty awesome?
His methods were a bit rough, but the results... were almost too good.
"You..."
Clark pointed at the field, wanting to say something, but then covered his mouth.
He felt his worldview had been impacted just a tiny bit.
You can farm like this?
Isn't this much more powerful than any modern agricultural machinery?
"What's wrong?"
Tel-Rol looked confused.
"Isn't the land tilled? The soil is looser, isn't it easier to sow?"
He clapped the dirt off his hands.
"This counts as my cultivation, and I got the work done too. It's a win-win. You should give me two more dishes."
Clark opened his mouth, and finally squeezed out a sentence:
"I... thank you."
He felt his blood pressure was like a roller coaster, going up and down.
He tried to suppress the urge to complain and tried to keep up with this guy's train of thought.
"Tel-Rol!"
He tried to make his tone sound a bit more serious.
"I asked you to come work to experience labor's..."
"Process?"
Tel-Rol frowned.
"Isn't having the result enough? Why make it so troublesome?"
"Why waste time with a hammer when you can solve it with one punch?"
"This is your problem, cousin."
Tel-Rol's tone suddenly became serious.
He pointed at Clark, then at the peaceful farm.
"You guard such immense power, yet you're here playing in the mud."
"Fixing fences, tilling land, feeding cows..."
"Don't you think it's ridiculous?"
"Don't you think this is an insult to the House of El bloodline within you?"
"Shut up!"
Clark sharply stopped him.
"You don't understand at all!"
"The Kent name, this land, my parents—they taught me how to be a person!"
"Not a monster with only power!"
"A person?"
Tel-Rol laughed, his laughter full of mockery.
"You were never human! You are a Kryptonian! A god of Earth!"
"Yet you insist on crawling on the ground, learning how ants walk!"
"You are simply... beyond saving!"
Their argument attracted Jonathan and Martha, who came over to see what was happening.
Jonathan looked at the tilled land, his expression a bit complex.
As an old farmer, he could tell at a glance that the land was indeed tilled very well, impeccably so.
He walked up to Tel-Rol and looked at him calmly.
"Son, it seems you've finished your work."
Tel-Rol pouted.
"Such a small matter, it takes minutes."
Jonathan nodded, smiling.
"Done very quickly, and very well."
He bent down, grabbed a handful of dirt, and rubbed it in his hand.
"The soil is loose, with excellent aeration. It's perfect for a seedling bed."
Tel-Rol's eyes lit up, a little proud.
"Exactly. So dinner..."
"Dinner as usual. Martha saved you some pie."
Jonathan interrupted him, his tone gentle.
Tel-Rol was stunned for a moment. Had this old man changed his ways? So easy to talk to?
"But," Jonathan's tone shifted, and he pointed at the perfectly tilled land, "tilling is just the first step. It's like your fighting; the warm-up is over, and the main event is about to begin."
He pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket and handed it to Tel-Rol.
"These are this year's corn seeds, the most delicate batch."
Tel-Rol took it, weighed it in his hand, and looked puzzled.
"What for?"
"Plant them."
Jonathan pointed at the ground.
"Use your method to plant them. Every seed must be in the right position, at the right depth."
"What's so hard about that?"
Tel-Rol looked disdainful, feeling the old man was underestimating him.
He and Goku and Little Baldy used to do this when they were kids, but that was when they were kids. Now, to make him do this... He grabbed a handful of seeds, walked to the edge of the field, raised his arm, and was about to scatter them.
"Stop."
Jonathan called out to him.
"Son, power can turn over the earth, but life needs gentleness. Your power is too fierce; it will shatter the seeds in the soil, and they won't even get a chance to germinate."
He looked at Tel-Rol, his eyes showing no blame, only a calm guidance.
"Farming is not destruction. It is creation. This requires you to control your power, not release it. Control your power so that every seed can sleep peacefully, instead of being scared to death by your punch."
"Control?"
Tel-Rol heard that hateful word again, and he irritably ran his hand through his hair.
"Why is it so much trouble! Why not just punch them into the ground and be done with it?"
Jonathan didn't argue with him.
He just turned to Clark and said:
"Clark, go get the planter. We'll teach your cousin how to be gentle with the land."
Clark looked at his father's back, then at Tel-Rol, who looked annoyed and confused, and understood something in his heart.
He said nothing, silently walking towards the barn.
Tel-Rol was completely dumbfounded.
He couldn't understand.
He did the work quickly and well, so why bother with all these fancy things?
Gentleness? Control?
For a pile of dirt and a few seeds? Was it necessary?
What were this old man and his cousin's brains made of?
He watched Jonathan pick up a small hoe and start digging evenly spaced small holes along the furrow.
He watched Martha carry a watering can and pour a little water into each hole.
He watched Clark drive that slow iron lump, drawing straight lines across the field.
The family, on the perfect land he had created, was doing what he considered meaningless things in a primitive, inefficient way.
They worked in perfect harmony, their faces showing a calmness and satisfaction he couldn't understand.
No one looked at him again.
He was like an outsider, isolated, the bag of seeds in his hand feeling heavy.
He felt completely out of place here.
Meanwhile.
S.H.I.E.L.D., Triskelion Headquarters.
In a top-secret conference room.
Nick Fury was looking grimly at the holographic projection in front of him.
On the projection was a complete data analysis of the battle in the Arctic.
Energy fluctuation maps, material structure changes, spatial curvature anomalies... every piece of data made the top scientists present feel their scalps tingle.
Amanda Waller's virtual image appeared at the other end of the conference room.
Her face looked as if she had just been forced to drink a large bowl of traditional Chinese medicine.
"Fury, have you analyzed anything new?"
Fury did not answer.
He pointed at the energy curve representing Tel-Rol in the data model.
"Hill, compare the energy peaks before and after the battle."
"Yes, Director."
Maria Hill immediately began operating.
Soon, two curves appeared side by side on the screen.
One was Tel-Rol's energy reading in a near-death state at the end of the battle, almost negligible.
The other was a fleeting energy fluctuation detected by satellite after he recovered in the Fortress of Solitude.
The peak of that curve was at least thirty percent higher than when he fought in the Arctic!
In the conference room, everyone understood what this meant.
"So..."
A white-haired physicist spoke, his voice trembling.
"He means..."
"Every time he is severely injured and recovers, his power... becomes stronger?"
"Yes."
Fury's single eye gleamed dangerously.
"The closer he gets to death, the more intensely his potential erupts."
"Waller, do you understand now what a huge mess you almost made at Belle Reve?"
Amanda Waller's cold sweat trickled down her temples.
She now belatedly felt a chilling coldness.
If, back then, she had truly severely injured Tel-Rol by some means, and failed to kill him completely... then what would have recovered would be a monster several times stronger than before!
"My Deleted..."
Waller slumped in her chair, murmuring.
"What exactly are we dealing with?"
Just then.
A frantic alarm blared throughout the entire headquarters.
"Warning! Warning!"
"Unknown spatial jump signal detected over New York City!"
"Large unidentified flying object entering the atmosphere!"
Fury's expression changed.
"Connect the visual!"
On the screen, the bustling scene of New York City appeared.
A menacing, dark warship, full of metallic texture, tore through the clouds.
Appearing over Manhattan.
"It's... a Kree warship!"
An agent responsible for interstellar affairs exclaimed.
Fury's fist clenched tightly.
Trouble always came one after another.
He was about to order the activation of the "Avengers" protocol.
Another, higher-level alarm, rang out.
"Highest level alert!"
"Supersonic flying object detected, approaching New York from the direction of Kansas at an uncalculable speed!"