"Then you can just die!"
The senior student wearing the ring threw a punch at Clark.
With his enhanced dynamic vision, far beyond that of ordinary people, Clark easily caught the opponent's wrist.
Although he really wanted to follow what his Godfather said and punch this annoying guy in the face.
But then he remembered what his father had told him: "Hide your abilities."
Clark, struggling intensely internally, squeezed the opponent's hand without controlling his strength, causing the other party to scream in pain.
"Ah! Damn it! Let go! Let go of me!"
The student wearing the ring struggled desperately to pull his wrist free from Clark's grip.
But no matter how much he struggled, his wrist was like it had been cemented into Clark's hand, unmoving.
The screams made Clark snap out of it, and he immediately let go of the other party's hand.
The student with the ring looked at his throbbing right hand, both surprised and angry.
He hadn't expected Clark to have such astonishing strength.
"Bang!"
His accomplice nearby saw their leader suffer and stepped forward, pushing Clark viciously.
Clark fell heavily to the ground, hitting the metal fence with a dull thud.
Just as the group was about to gang up on Clark, the student whose wrist had been squeezed stopped them.
"Never mind, let's go."
"But, Tang, your hand..."
Tang looked down at his swollen wrist, then glanced at Clark with some apprehension, "Consider this kid lucky. We still have work to do. Let's go."
Although the others were unwilling, they could only leave grudgingly.
And Adrian, another classmate he had saved, was so scared by Clark's astonishing strength that he immediately slipped away.
Clark leaned his back against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.
"Are you alright?"
A somewhat unfamiliar figure suddenly stood in front of Clark, extending a hand to him.
Clark looked up in surprise and saw a chubby boy with a face full of freckles.
"Darr?"
It was none other than Darr, who had bullied him last time and was then pushed off the slide by Mark.
Darr extended his hand with a complex expression and pulled Clark up from the ground.
"That's Tang Hagerty. He's in fifth grade. Last time I saw them kick a student into the road."
After walking along the road for a few minutes, Darr said to Clark, head bowed, "I heard he wears two big rings on his right hand. One is his brother's high school graduation ring, and the other he made himself in craft class. He often uses the rings to split people's lips."
"Darr, I... I don't understand."
Clark wanted to ask why the other party had pulled him up.
Darr stopped, exhaled, and looked at Clark, "I... I saw you and John push the school bus to the shore."
Hearing Darr's words, Clark was instantly stunned.
"I... I haven't told anyone, not even Mom."
Darr looked at him with a gaze mixed with awe and gratitude, "Claire's mom said you're a miracle from God, that God manifested. She was terrifyingly fanatical when she said those things."
He stammered to Clark, "That wasn't a miracle. It was you and John who saved us. I don't think we should thank the Lord, but rather thank you two."
"Don't worry, Clark, I'll keep your secret, I swear."
As if sensing Clark's concern, Darr voluntarily made a promise that he would keep their secret forever.
Clark's mind was a bit muddled, but he still thanked the other party: "Thank you, Darr."
Night.
Tang Hagerty rode his bicycle home.
Night had not yet fully fallen, and the road was still faintly discernible.
Tang Hagerty, riding his bicycle, examined the ring he had made in craft class on his right hand.
Engraved on it were two intertwined English letters, "DB," which stood for "Dead Bugs," a heavy metal band he greatly admired.
His gaze shifted from the ring to his swollen right wrist.
His previously good mood instantly turned sour.
He planned to investigate the background of this "Clark" guy before dealing with him.
The night wind blew, chilling his back, and he suddenly felt a sense of unease.
It was as if something was following him in the increasingly dark shadows behind him.
His heart pounded intensely, "thump-thump, thump-thump," and hearing his heart beat in his ears, wrists, and chest always made him nervous.
Sometimes it even made him feel that it wasn't a pump expanding and contracting at all, but a large tachometer in his left chest, its needle pushing directly into the red warning zone.
Stopping his bicycle, Tang Hagerty nervously glanced behind him.
Everything behind him was normal.
Swallowing, he turned his head and continued pedaling his bicycle forward.
To alleviate the sudden unease and fear that had arisen, he pulled out a lighter, preparing to light a cigarette to calm his nerves.
Although he was a fifth-grade student, he had long since taught himself how to smoke.
"Click!"
The sound of the lighter opening rang out, piercing the dark night.
The next second, a dark Shadow suddenly pounced on him.
"Bang!"
Tang Hagerty, who didn't even have time to scream, was directly knocked to the ground with a dull thud.
Before long, a strong smell of blood permeated the air.
"You seem to have something on your mind, Clark."
At Patrick Farm, Peter, who was eating dinner, asked Clark, who seemed distracted.
"I... I almost got into a fight, Godfather."
Clark put down his dinner knife and looked up at him, saying, "I don't know why, but I know I need to restrain myself from wanting to help others, yet I still can't completely ignore the difficulties others face. I always disappoint people, Godfather."
Peter glanced at Mark, who was equally confused, confirming that he probably didn't know what had happened to Clark.
"Saving people isn't wrong, Clark."
"But I don't understand why Father always tells me to turn a blind eye."
Clark, due to what happened during the day, was once again stuck in a dilemma.
On one hand, he agreed with his father's "hide your abilities," but on the other hand, because of Darr's words, he felt that helping others perhaps shouldn't be overthought.
Peter asked him, "So you think Jonathan's words are problematic, right, Clark?"
"No, I just..."
Clark didn't know how to describe it.
"Your father's most important identity is a father, and also a human being, and a devout believer. He has desires, he can be selfish, he can be afraid, he can be conflicted. I am the same, Clark."
"As a father, he understands your kindness, so he can accept your talent. But what would this ability mean to other people who have desires, are afraid, and are selfish?"
Although Peter had a headache over Jonathan's stubbornness, he also admitted that he was a responsible father.
"You and John, because of your power, people will worship you as gods, revere you, and believe in you unconditionally."
"But at the same time, people will also see you as a threat because of your power, fear you, and doubt you without reason. But the vast majority of people will never try to understand you."
"You will receive as much misunderstood love as you will misunderstood hatred."
Pausing for a moment, Peter looked into their eyes and slowly said:
"Sometimes, to avoid causing greater chaos and sacrifice, you are forced to ignore the sacrifices before your eyes. This is what Jonathan is trying to teach you, Clark, just as if you hadn't pushed the school bus initially, the later kidnapping incident wouldn't have occurred."
It was the first time the two boys heard Peter speak so much, and they were in a state of slight shock.
After a while, Clark asked Peter, "Godfather, do you think so too?"
Peter shook his head, "Absolutely not."
He picked up his coffee and said to them, "I won't demand your sacrifice, nor do I wish for you to become gods who are loved and hated."
He didn't have Jonathan's kind of awareness.
"Father."
Mark suddenly looked up and said in a firm tone, "If necessary, I can sacrifice myself for Father."
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