"There's a Dark Force floating in the air of Smallville!"
"It needs us to act! Are you ready, Clark?"
The blond boy held a toy gun in his hand, a slightly ill-fitting national flag cape draped over his back, and spoke with righteous indignation.
The black-haired boy, whom he called Clark, said somewhat unconvinced, "That's not fair, Mark, we agreed that this time I should be the Officer and you should be the Soldier."
Mark, who was the young Homelander, put his hands on his hips and said, "The Officer should be the stronger one, and I'm stronger and smarter, so Clark, you be Soldier Boy."
Clark immediately exposed his lie, "But last time Auntie Neil gave us a test, and my score was higher than yours."
"That's because I wasn't serious, I..."
Mark's face flushed red, and he immediately changed the subject, "Hey—ya! There's a monster over there, look at my fist!"
With that, he pounced into the cornfield.
"John, the national flag cape you're wearing, maybe we should return it!"
Clark shouted at Mark.
Mark had taken the national flag from the farm's rooftop to use as a cape.
He was afraid that when they returned, their godfather would scold them.
But seeing how unconcerned Mark was, he could only follow him into the cornfield.
"Thump!"
As soon as he entered the cornfield, Mark pounced on him and knocked him down.
Just as he was about to resist, he heard Mark whisper in his ear, "Don't move! Listen! They're coming!"
Being told so nervously by the other, Clark also became nervous, swallowed, and tightened the Zorro mask he was wearing.
"Really?"
"Really, listen, these Dark Forces are going to attack us, we have to be ready."
Clark truly believed that the Dark Forces were coming.
He nervously held his breath, pricking up his ears to catch the movements around him.
At first, there was the "rustling" sound of the wind blowing through the leaves, and Mark's heavy breathing as he lay on him.
Then he heard noisy, chaotic sounds entering his ears.
It was the sound of cars driving on the road, and sheep running in the pasture.
Then came even more chaotic sounds.
Whispering human voices were also caught by him.
"Buzz!"
A piercing noise came from inside his ears, and he immediately felt a sharp pain.
He covered his ears and let out a painful groan.
Startled, Mark quickly got up and looked at him helplessly, "W-what's wrong, Clark?"
"M-my ears hurt a little."
Clark's pain came and went quickly, and he soon returned to normal.
He covered his ears and asked Mark fearfully, "Am I deaf?"
"No!"
Mark said impatiently, "If you were deaf, how would you hear me speak, you idiot!"
He helped Clark up, "We have to go home, or Dad will be angry."
Although Mark really wanted to keep playing, he had agreed with his father to be home by five o'clock in the afternoon.
The two chased and played with each other, and soon arrived at the farm.
"Dad! Clark's ears almost went deaf!"
As soon as Mark ran into the farm, he shouted loudly.
But Clark noticed several cars parked at the farm and immediately pulled Mark back.
Mark also noticed the situation and stopped shouting.
The two walked into the living room and saw Peter talking to several men in suits.
"Dad."
"Godfather."
The two greeted softly.
Peter glanced at them and said, "John, Clark, go upstairs."
"Okay."
The two quickly went upstairs obediently.
After seeing his two adopted sons go upstairs, Peter turned to face the well-dressed men in front of him.
Six years had passed since he found Homelander.
Homelander and Superman had both grown into young boys, but time had left no trace on his face.
His appearance was still exactly the same as it was six years ago.
In Martha's words, he seemed to have been favored by God, who bestowed upon him the magic of eternal youth.
God's favor was, of course, nonsense.
The real reason was the wristwatch he wore, which not only gave him increasingly stronger physical abilities but also greatly slowed down his aging speed.
His strength, endurance, speed, reactions, and flexibility had all greatly improved.
He estimated that his skin could even withstand the impact of small-caliber bullets now.
As time went on, the physical abilities enhanced by the wristwatch would become stronger and stronger.
He estimated that if he lived another hundred years, he would definitely become Superman.
Does this count as getting stronger just by lying flat?
Indeed, no matter the era, lying flat was the most suitable lifestyle for him!
The only pity was...
He glanced at the wristwatch on his hand; the pointer still had about a fifth of a circle left to complete.
He had originally thought the pointer would finish quickly, and the meteor shower would arrive soon.
Unexpectedly, six years had passed, and the meteor shower still hadn't arrived.
Are you telling me this thing calculates in years?!
If he hadn't been granted anti-aging abilities, he was afraid he wouldn't live to see a few meteor showers.
"Mr. Patrick."
The man with the hooked nose sitting opposite him noticed Peter looking at his watch and thought he was getting impatient.
He smiled and said, "The Luther Group is preparing to build a chemical plant in Smallville. We have conducted a rigorous site selection and determined the scope of the chemical plant, and your farm is within our plan."
"We hope to acquire your farm, and of course, we will provide adequate compensation."
With that, he took out a check from his suit and placed it on the table.
Peter looked at him coldly, "What if I say no?"
Although the farm did not hold as much significance for him as it did for Jonathan.
But the meteor shower's arrival was at the farm.
If he sold the farm, how would he find superpowered infants later?
Besides, he wasn't short on money.
Over the past few years, he had gone to Metropolis and robbed many gangsters of their ill-gotten gains.
His Superman-like physical abilities made dealing with those gangsters effortless.
Hearing Peter's blunt refusal, the smile on the hooked-nose man's face disappeared, and his tone became as cold as steel.
"Generally speaking, the Luther Group does not treat its collaborators harshly, but for those who do not cooperate, our methods will not be so gentle."
Peter's eyes narrowed, and he looked at him with a slight frown: "Are you threatening me?"
"No, how could I be? We are a legitimate company. I am just talking about normal business competition methods."
The hooked-nose man stood up and extended his hand to Peter.
"I hope you will change your mind, Mr. Patrick."
Peter did not shake his hand and said indifferently, "My answer will never change."
At the same time.
On the second-floor stair landing, Mark, having eavesdropped on the conversation between his father and the hooked-nose man, clenched his fists.