"People love to dream," Peter said to Mark, organizing his thoughts. "I once knew two boys who also dreamed of being superheroes."
"Who were they, Dad?" Mark asked curiously.
"One was the dream of an ordinary Kansas boy who believed that if he just kept doing good deeds, the World would fully accept him."
"The other was the dream of a teenager who lost his parents in Crime Alley when he was eight, and he believed that if he kept fighting criminals, the city would get better and better."
"So, were their dreams wrong, Dad?"
"I don't know. Some people think they were wrong, others think they weren't. The only thing for sure is that these were their choices and their persistence."
Peter paused, then said to Mark, "They will all rest and fall, but they won't plummet into an abyss. Their goal has always been their mountaintop."
Mark thought for a moment, then said firmly, "My goal has always been the mountaintop too, Dad."
"Dad believes in you."
After saying a few words to Mark, Peter went to other rooms to pack.
Some of the paperbacks in the study: works by Poppy Z. Brite, works by Stephen King, Robert McCammon's "The Catcher in the Rye," "Slaughterhouse-Five," were all put into a box together.
"Knock! Knock! Knock!"
Martian Manhunter stood outside and knocked on the door.
"Do you mind if we talk, Peter?"
Peter looked up at Martian Manhunter. "Of course, we haven't had a good chat yet, Mr. Jones."
"Perhaps it's because, at first, we both had some prejudices against each other."
Martian Manhunter walked in and casually picked up a copy of "The Catcher in the Rye."
"I originally thought you weren't a qualified father, but it seems I was wrong."
Martian Manhunter admitted his mistake. "You will guide John onto a different path as a hero."
Peter looked at him in surprise. Would he be that great?
"No, Mr. Jones, I just don't want John to be an asshole."
Peter shook his head, put the book in the travel case, and casually asked Martian Manhunter, "Have you ever been a teacher, Mr. Jones?"
He remembered that Martian Manhunter was very compassionate and had worked as a teacher.
"Yes, I once worked as a teacher at a school. I liked that profession because it gave me a sense of purpose by helping a child make their life choices."
Martian Manhunter put the book down and talked about his past. "I also adopted some orphans."
"Many children need help. Among them, some are just a little lost in the mist, but more are in the deep darkness."
As he spoke of adopting orphans, a gentle expression appeared on his face.
"Some are more severe; some are children who have been abused by their parents. Some of them are substance abusers, some are clearly polarized, some harm themselves. The entire World – in many ways – has abandoned them, leaving them to the wolves and lions of the plains and jungles."
"That sounds like a great endeavor."
Although Peter wasn't interested in charity, he had to admit that Martian Manhunter's actions were commendable.
"If you encounter funding problems with your charity, Mr. Jones, I can donate some."
Martian Manhunter shook his head. "Thank you, Peter, but I don't think I need it for now."
Martian Manhunter politely declined Peter's offer to donate.
Peter didn't continue the topic either. After a few more words, he moved the travel case to the car in the courtyard.
Martian Manhunter drove towards Metropolis, and a light rain began to fall.
Rain Water slowly accumulated on the car's windshield, forming streaks mixed with pollen. The wipers did a good job, wiping these streaks clean.
Occasionally, they saw townspeople driving to other places to escape the Karl wildfire.
Although the Karl wildfire had not yet reached Smallville, most people had already begun to evacuate.
"Dad, isn't Clark coming with us?" Mark, sitting in the back seat, asked Peter in the passenger seat.
"Clark is coming later with his parents. We'll meet in Metropolis."
Peter said, opening the radio and searching for a news station.
"The Fiers baseball team hasn't been playing very well this year, but they are actually quietly building momentum—"
"—The rain will continue to intensify over the next four days. Experts say the spreading Karl wildfire in Kansas will not be affected by the rainfall, which doesn't seem like good news—"
"Now, a jazz compilation from Mumbai's Zechetal has become part of our global 'Café Sounds' segment—"
The three listened to the radio, and the car finally arrived in Metropolis as night fell.
Mark looked at the bustling city under the night sky.
A light drizzle fell from the sky, and cars whizzed by.
Through the ethereal rain mist, he saw an electronics store like a mirage in the distance.
In the distance, uniformly tall buildings formed a dim fence, outlining a jagged skyline.
"How does it feel to be in Metropolis for the first time, John?" Peter asked Mark, who was gazing out the window.
"It's beautiful, like two different Worlds from Smallville."
Mark turned his head and said to Peter, "But there's a sense of oppression here."
"If people live here for a long time, Dad, I guess they must feel very oppressed."
Peter nodded. "People here are indeed under a lot of pressure, but many still flock to it."
"Why, Dad?"
"Because…"
Before Peter could finish his sentence, the car Martian Manhunter was driving suddenly stopped.
A commotion came from the dim street they had just turned onto.
Peter looked over and saw a group of youths beating someone near a dumpster.
The person being beaten crouched on the street, holding his head, not making a sound, letting them punch and kick him.
Dull thuds echoed in the air, and passing cars did not stop to meddle.
Peter frowned, recognizing in the dim light that the person being beaten was a teenager of about fourteen or fifteen.
The teenager, with a slicked-back hairstyle and an air of nobility, remained silent even while being beaten.
Seeing the scene, Martian Manhunter frowned, got out of the car, and shouted at the group, "Hey, what are you doing?"
Hearing Martian Manhunter's voice, the youths who were fighting turned around.
"None of your business! If you don't want to get beaten, get out of here!" the hostile thugs threatened him.
The teenager being ganged up on heard the sound, removed his hands from his head, and looked in the direction of the voice, seeing Peter push open the car door and get out.