Smallville Elementary School.
"Bang!" Mark grabbed Whitney by his clothes and slammed him heavily against the locker.
"I told you, stay away from Clark!"
Grabbing him by the collar, Mark threatened him impolitely, "If there's a next time, I'll beat you so badly your parents won't recognize you!"
Whitney, with a group of his lackeys, ran into Clark that morning.
Wanting to pick a fight, Whitney knocked Clark to the ground, mocked and ridiculed him for a bit, then left.
Upon learning that Clark had been bullied, Mark immediately went to find trouble with Whitney.
Intimidated by Mark's imposing aura, Whitney did not fight back.
Knowing that a wise man doesn't fight when the odds are against him, he raised his hands to show he meant no harm.
"Hey, hey, John, relax, it's nothing, I promise you, I won't bother Clark again."
Seeing Whitney give up so readily, Mark instantly lost interest.
"Alright, remember what you said."
Mark released his collar, let him go, and turned to leave.
Whitney turned his head, his back to Mark, and muttered a faint, almost inaudible, "F*** you!"
"What did you say?"
Mark, who had already left, suddenly stopped, then turned and walked quickly towards him.
Whitney's expression was a little flustered, but he quickly composed himself and faced Mark with a normal expression.
"I didn't say anything."
Pursing his lips, Mark, fuming, walked quickly up to Whitney and slapped him on the back of his neck, pushing his head down.
"What—did you just say?!"
Pressing Whitney's head down, Mark's tone sent a chill down Whitney's spine.
Scared, he repeatedly apologized to Mark, "Sorry, I… I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to."
Mark held his head down and commanded in an angry tone, "Say it!"
"Bang!"
Whitney's backpack fell to the ground, and all his books scattered.
Ignoring the backpack on the ground, Whitney, held by his head, couldn't stand steadily, his body constantly swaying from side to side.
Struggling to maintain his balance, scared by the fierce Mark, he quickly pleaded for mercy, "Sorry, I didn't mean to, please!"
Mark grabbed his head, stared at him for a moment, then suddenly let go.
Whitney, taking two steps back, swallowed hard, looking at Mark's retreating figure, still shaken.
Was he just bullied?
Teary-eyed, he never thought he'd have a day where he was bullied!
"Thank you, John."
Knowing that Mark had gone to get revenge for him, Clark sincerely thanked Mark.
Although he didn't approve of using force against ordinary people, he was still very touched by Mark's actions on his behalf.
"Actually, I was pretty annoyed with him too."
Mark said that after gym class, he had always wanted to beat that guy up.
He just hadn't found a suitable opportunity and was afraid of the school contacting their parents, so he hadn't made a move.
"Anyway, you helped me, I can treat you to a honey stick or a maple bread."
Generous Clark offered to treat Mark to a meal.
Mark waved his hand, "No, I'm not interested in your food, even if you give me another box of Sharp cookies, I'm not interested."
Clark noticed that Mark seemed to be troubled.
"You don't seem very happy, John."
"No, I just… this is probably what the teacher called emotional instability, the kind everyone gets a few times a month."
He also didn't know why he had such a bad temper just now.
For a moment, he really wanted to break Whitney's hand.
Even though he knew that was wrong.
Clark put down his book and asked thoughtfully, "Is it about Ms. Kelly and Star-Lord?"
"You haven't seemed very happy since Ms. Kelly moved in."
"No, I'm not unhappy, I just…"
Mark didn't know how to explain.
"I just don't want Dad to be scammed."
Clark looked at him in surprise, "Do you think Ms. Kelly is a scammer?"
"I didn't say that, but have you seen this news?"
Mark told Clark about the news he had seen, "An oil tycoon divorced his wife, and she took half of his assets, about 5 billion U.S. dollars. If, and I mean if, well, this 'if' is just my guess, but if it really happened…"
He paused, then said in a serious tone, "Dad will give her half of his assets, and she'll take half of the farm too!"
Clark was stunned.
He hadn't expected Mark to think so much.
"No, that won't happen. Ms. Kelly is the Chief's granddaughter; her tribe has a large piece of land she can inherit. How could she care about Dad's farm?"
Mark, adhering to strict investigation principles, pulled out a small notebook.
"I had Mr. Hanks at the library help me look it up. The Kawatche Tribe is still arguing with Kansas and the Federal Government in court over who owns that land."
Clark asked in surprise, "Aren't there any documents records?"
"Oh, there are."
Mark flipped through his small notebook, "But they're too old. A long time ago, from a big maple tree standing on the mountain all the way to the river, it all belonged to the original landowners. But in 1882, the big maple tree fell, and by 1900, the tree had rotted away.
Part of the river also became smaller due to silt accumulation, and after ten years of changes, it turned into a swamp. This way, the land ownership issue became a mess."
The more Clark listened, the stranger it felt.
Why did it feel like Mark was increasingly transforming into a farmer?
And a very professional one at that.
Could it be that Mark really didn't want to go to college in the future?
"So…"
Mark didn't know Clark's inner thoughts and continued, "So think about the future. When Star-Lord, that fatty, grows up, if he's a spendthrift, Dad's farm will definitely face disaster."
Clark thought for a moment and felt the logic was a bit off.
"John, you're just predicting the worst-case scenario."
Mark said confidently, "How do you know the worst-case scenario won't happen? I'm just preparing for a rainy day."
Clark hesitated for a moment, then finally looked directly into his eyes and said, "I know why you think that, John?"
Mark paused, "What?"
"You're just afraid, afraid that Godfather's love for you will be divided, right?"
His thoughts exposed, Mark angrily slammed his notebook shut, "No, I'm not! Dad loves me, he won't be taken away by anyone! I just want to help."
"Really?"
Clark knew Mark well and always knew what he was thinking.
"John, didn't Godfather say that we are born with a certain mission? Perhaps our future isn't just the farm, we can set our sights on Metropolis, or even bigger places."
Clark didn't understand why Mark was so fixated on his farm dream.
Mark looked at Clark in surprise upon hearing this.
He hadn't expected Clark to lecture him like Dad did.
"You hate the farm, Clark?"
"No, I want to stay on the farm, but I also hope to help more people."
"You're wrong, Clark, you've never understood Dad's words."
Mark's expression grew serious.
He said to Clark, annoyed, "You want to be a good person, to go out into the World and help others? Impossible! Because you were not born a normal person, people will never accept you, only the farm will accept you, it is your eternal home."
"No, one day people will."
"Dream on!"
Mark's voice rose slightly, attracting the attention of the entire class.
Under Clark's astonished gaze, he took a deep breath and calmed down.
"Remember 'The Fugitive' we watched? The Police officer in it said: 'You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.' Clark, in people's eyes, you will always turn bad."
"I will never turn bad!"
"Unless you die!"
Realizing his emotions were running high and he had said things he shouldn't have, Mark felt some regret looking at Clark's shocked face.
But he didn't apologize; instead, he packed up his bag and left the classroom directly.
Walking home, Mark felt a bit of remorse.
It was supposed to be a discussion about the farm with Clark, how did it end up as an argument?
He shook his arms, exhaled in frustration, and looked at a few students walking together ahead.
Lana was walking home with her classmates.
Her best friend was talking to her about recent campus legends.
It was said that in the dilapidated, abandoned church in Smallville, a legend circulated in the prayer room that if you made a wish before midnight, it would come true.
Using his super hearing, Mark, who secretly overheard their conversation, stopped.
"A wish?"
No monkey paw needed, no need for a meteor shower to make a wish?
He was highly skeptical of this.
Lana, hearing her best friend say this, also shook her head, indicating she didn't believe it. "How is that possible? Is there a Holy Grail in the prayer room?"
"Who knows? Some say there's magical power inside, others say there's a Dood, and if you make a contract with him, he can grant you a wish."
Lana shivered at this, "The cost must be huge, I don't want to."
Hearing this, Mark, on the contrary, had an idea.
He had previously heard Kelly mention a Dood in Smallville. Could it be that it wasn't a figment of Kelly's imagination, but a real entity?
Standing still, Mark took a deep breath and looked at his outstretched palm.
The palm gradually transformed into a monkey paw in his eyes.
He gently curled his fingers, and one finger of the monkey paw slowly bent.
Shaking his head, he looked at his palm again.
The imagined monkey paw had disappeared, and his palm returned to normal.
He lowered his hand and looked towards the church in the northwest direction of Smallville.
Deep night.
Mark, lying in bed, suddenly opened his eyes and looked at the clock on the wall.
The hour hand pointed to twelve o'clock.
Quietly getting out of bed, Mark put on his clothes and opened the door.
Walking to the window in the hallway, after confirming no one was paying attention to him, he jumped out of the window and hovered in the air.
After glancing at the farm, Mark took a deep breath and flew towards the church with a "whoosh."
"Thump!"
One minute later.
His feet landed on the ground, and Mark looked at the dilapidated and desolate church before him.
Under the dark night, the church stood in the deserted wilderness, exuding an eerie aura, giving a strong sense of unease, as if it could transform into a man-eating Beast at any moment.
Mark hesitated, then pushed open the church door and entered the dust and cobweb-filled church.
Almost all the wooden chairs in the church were broken, and the wall decorations had almost fallen off.
Stepping on the dust on the ground, Mark walked into the church's prayer room.
The spacious room contained nothing but a mirror.
Standing inside, he searched for a while but found nothing suspicious.
There was no Holy Grail, nor did any Dood suddenly jump out to sign a contract.
He searched for a few more minutes, and after confirming there was nothing of value, he prepared to leave the church in disappointment.
But to his surprise, the moment he turned to leave, Mark suddenly noticed something was wrong.
He stopped, looking at himself in the mirror with an expression of disbelief.