"Cough cough."
Clark stood up, coughing and clutching his chest.
His super defense left him almost unscathed; only his chest felt slightly stuffy.
But Mark's actions also ignited his fury.
Clark leaped out of the Barn and charged quickly towards Mark.
"Bang!"
Mark's right cheek was hit by a heavy punch from Clark; he spun like a top in the air for several turns before flying out and crashing heavily onto the ground.
Mud splattered into the air, and a dull thud echoed.
Mark, a bit dazed from the hit, looked at the panting Clark with shock.
Was this still the Clark who never fought back and always needed his help?
"Liar! You liar! So you could always fight, Clark!"
Feeling betrayed, Mark clenched his fists and stood up from the ground, glaring at him.
"I'm not a liar."
Clark panted slightly, wiping the rain from his head, "I was just controlling myself, like Father Norma said about controlling my abilities."
"That is—lying!"
Mark, enraged, his eyes glowing with fiery red light.
"Zzz!"
The red laser, tearing through the air, reached Clark in an instant.
Seeing this, Clark immediately dodged, but was still hit in the shoulder, tumbling and crashing into the living room.
The deflected Heat Vision, still powerful, shot out of the living room and towards a warehouse wall behind it.
With a "ding-ding-clang-clang" sound, the dining table and sofa in the living room were instantly shattered.
Clark tumbled and crashed into the living room, his back hitting the TV cabinet, smashing it to pieces.
Broken furniture fragments and electrical components fell to the floor, instantly turning the once neat and clean living room into a mess.
"Thump!"
Mark jumped into the living room, and before he could find Clark, he felt a rush of air.
At this point, Clark was also enraged, and his fist slammed heavily towards Mark.
Mark tried to block with his hand, but the next second his body was immediately thrown out of control.
With a "bang," Mark was deeply embedded into the wooden staircase by that punch, shattering the staircase.
Mark endured the pain and quickly flipped over and stood up.
Although it was their first fight, he and Clark had watched many boxing matches with their father before and knew how to effectively attack an enemy.
Mark quickly moved in front of Clark, and his fast and heavy fist struck towards his opponent's chin.
Clark instinctively raised his arm to block.
"Bang!"
The air exploded, and the booming sound of flesh colliding shattered the room's glass.
Although Clark blocked the punch with his arm, he was still knocked to the ground, creating cracks in the floor, but he immediately stood up unharmed and lunged at his opponent.
Mark, with bloodshot eyes, blocked his opponent, and after a struggle, their fingers interlocked.
Since Mark developed faster than Clark, he had a slight advantage in conventional strength.
"You can't beat me, Clark, I've always been stronger than you!"
Mark said, panting, as he forcefully pressed his opponent down.
"No, you're not!"
Clark gritted his teeth, using all his strength, and suddenly jumped up, grabbing Mark's arm.
With the added power of his super jump, Clark grabbed Mark's arm and leaped to the second floor.
A large hole was punched in the hallway floor by the two of them, and with a sudden burst of power, Clark threw Mark like a sack.
"Bang!"
The floor was cracked inches by inches.
Mark lay on the floor covered in spiderweb cracks, feeling a burning pain in his back.
Actually, the pain in his back was secondary; the main thing was the mental blow.
The shame of being proven wrong right after boasting made his face flush and hot.
Inside the abandoned factory, Peter still didn't know that his two sons had already started fighting before he even made a move.
And the two mischievous children were about to tear down his house.
He took another step closer to Horry and asked, "Who exactly are you? As far as I know, there shouldn't be a Black man like you in Smallville."
"Who knows? Perhaps—I was never meant to exist in this era."
Horry jumped down from the high platform and said in an unhurried tone, "It was fate that brought me back here to seek revenge on this era."
"Fate?"
Peter frowned, looking at him, "What fate?"
Could this Black man, like Father Norma, know Black Magic?
"There are many interpretations of fate, Mr. Patrick. My interpretation is: everything a person experiences in life is predetermined; Heaven has already arranged our destinies, even this conversation between you and me is prearranged, and no one can change it."
He said in a low voice, "Just like when I unintentionally passed by the Smallville River, fell in, and was bitten by those glowing green fish. I originally thought I would be buried in the fish's belly, but unexpectedly, I was able to regain my youth."
Peter listened to his words quietly, and when he heard him say "regain my youth," his expression became a bit more serious.
Horry paused for a moment and said to Peter, "Clark and John were also chosen by fate; they are like me. I know, I once saw Clark's reaction to that green meteorite."
Before he could finish, Peter interrupted him.
"You're Old Hori, aren't you? The security guard at Smallville Elementary School."
He had already guessed this guy's identity.
The only people who experienced the school bus incident and witnessed Clark being weakened by Kryptonite, besides Martha McConner, were Old Hori.
Martha couldn't possibly turn into a Black man and play a boring dress-up game with him, so it could only be Old Hori.
Although Old Hori couldn't be as young as the Black man in front of him, considering this guy's statement about "regaining youth," the matter, though absurd, was not impossible.
Hearing Peter state his identity, Old Hori paused, then looked at him with a complex expression, "Uh-huh, I am Old Hori. I didn't intend to hide it anyway, since you're all going to die here, but why aren't you scared at all?"
"Alright, Mr. Old Hori."
Peter sighed and said to him, "Since you're so candid, I also have two secrets to tell you."
"First, I hate Black people!"
Then, in Old Hori's furious gaze of "how dare you discriminate against Black people," Peter instantly teleported in front of him like lightning.
With a "bang," Peter's fist hit Old Hori squarely in the chest.
The air in Old Hori's lungs seemed to be sucked out all at once.
Feeling a sharp pain, he tried to bend over and gasp for air, but was completely unable to, so he just started coughing violently.
It was as if some animal was hidden in his chest, and he was desperately trying to expel it.
"The second secret is, I'm not a normal person either."
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