If we talk about the time and space of the main universe, all undercurrents are hidden on the calm surface, gradually showing signs of a stormy crisis.
So the world Luke lives in is simply like the retirement life of a retired worker, slow and monotonous.
"Try harder, haven't you eaten?"
"Think of me as Lana's quarterback boyfriend, yeah, that's it, hit me hard!"
"Too weak, too weak...Kakarot! You are not even qualified to be my opponent now!"
“…”
In the past, we would have faced such a boring world.
Luke might choose to pass the time by collecting stamps of Hollywood stars and constantly fixing cars.
But now, he has found more interesting entertainment activities.
That is the little cousin from **Krypton!
Under the private residence, there is a spacious training ground.
Bang bang!
Bang bang bang!
There was a series of muffled thunderous sounds, like firecrackers exploding.
The fists were like fast and rhythmic drumbeats, falling on Clark continuously.
He was like a human punching bag. He could only hold his head with his hands and passively bear the violent attack of his elder cousin, without even any room for counterattack.
This is the training process these days.
He was beaten repeatedly until he could no longer stand up.
"I, I admit defeat, cousin!"
Clark, who felt exhausted, was panting heavily and even spoke intermittently.
"Clark, your will is not strong enough. You should say, 'I can fight you all day long'!"
Luke withdrew his fist and said with a hint of disgust: "It's so unmanly to admit defeat so quickly!"
Clark took off his tattered gloves, and his body felt like it had been hollowed out.
The whole person was sitting on the rough, hard ground, and his chest was rising and falling like a bellows.
He looked up and saw his eldest cousin's heavy fists that could crush him to death, and felt his sore muscles again.
If I fight with my eldest cousin for a whole day, I'm afraid he will die on the spot and everyone will be gone.
"I still can't learn to fight..."
Clark shook his head, a little frustrated.
In front of Luke? He looked extremely clumsy.
Can't punch fast enough and react slowly? You'll just get punched every time.
The only difference lies in the length of time you persist.
"Fighting requires long training, Clark."
Luke waved his hand. This amount of exercise was just a warm-up at best, not to mention panting. He didn't even sweat.
"I just want you to learn how to control power first."
At the beginning, every time Clark punched, he used all his strength to burst the air.
Every step you take can make cracks and holes in the solid ground.
If Luke's biological force field hadn't enveloped the surrounding area? I'm afraid this house would have been demolished.
"At least now you have learned how to control the force of your punches so that you won't lose control again."
Luke smiled slightly and threw a hot towel to his little cousin.
The Kryptonian's physique is strong, even if he is used as a punching bag for two hours straight.
Clark is still alive and well, just a little sore in his muscles.
Just a few minutes in the sun and you'll probably be fine.
This is why Luke is so enthusiastic about ****ing his little cousin.
Ever since he became stronger and stronger? He couldn't even find a suitable punching bag.
Now, Clark is undoubtedly a good choice.
Who could take a beating better than a Kryptonian
"Then when can I learn to fly?"
Clark always remembered the wonderful feeling of overlooking the planet from a high place.
"When you can resist the gravity of the earth, you can fly."
For true Kryptonians? Flying is not an ability.
They can use their powerful bodies and biological force fields to escape the pull of gravity.
For example, Zod was born with the genetic template of a Kryptonian general implanted into him.
Combat talent and team leadership ability are directly maxed out.
So when he came to Earth, he quickly got used to the atmosphere and gravity.
Things like flying and heat vision can be mastered quickly.
"Cousin, I still have something to do."
Clark rested for a while, wiped the sweat off his body, then stood up and said.
He recently joined the school's football team and has close contact with his crush, Lana, every day.
Coupled with my cousin's daily special training, although my back is sore, I am indeed more in control of my body than before, and I no longer have to worry about hurting others.
All in all, life seems to be on the fast track.
Everything is so satisfying.
"A lot of strange things may happen in the town recently. If there is any danger, remember to shout for help."
Luke smiled meaningfully. He understood the threat of kryptonite to Superman, but he did not say it directly.
Because telling Clark would make no sense and would only raise more questions.
This small town is Superman's novice village.
He needs to continuously complete tasks and accumulate experience in order to become a beacon of hope for the Metropolis in the future.
…
…
Time passed by silently like this, and between school and his older cousin's daily special training, Clark felt that his life was fulfilling.
And the first task he has to face will happen in a week.
On this day, he accompanied his mother to the bank in town to withdraw money.
Thanks to the secret help of his eldest cousin, the size of the Kent farm has approximately doubled.
Adoptive father Jonathan started to get busy and took out his savings to buy a batch of brand new farm tools and machines.
"Seventeen years ago, the meteorite rain hit the small town and caused a lot of casualties."
Mrs. Kent smiled and talked about that past incident. It was when she and her husband were driving home that they picked up Clark who fell from the sky.
Because of that disaster, many families were broken up and innocent people lost their lives. Subsequently, registration status became much simpler.
Jonathan went through a lot of effort and successfully registered with the Population and Social Security Administration.
Ever since, Clark Kent has changed from an alien to an American citizen.
"Mom, thank you for adopting me."
Clark often wondered what would have happened if, instead of landing on a farm in Kansas, he had fallen somewhere else.
"You gave us hope, Clark."
Mrs. Kent took her son's arm and they walked into the bank.
But not long after, two gangsters wearing presidential masks broke in.
"President Kennedy" armed with a double-barreled shotgun took the lead.
They seemed to be fully prepared and sent one person in first to inspect the location.
After observing for a moment, the gangster wearing a "President Roosevelt" mask quickly knocked down the security guard inside.
Then, standing at the door, the two security guards whose attention was attracted made the remaining accomplices fall to the ground.
"Don't move! Everyone squat down!"
"President Kennedy" fired a shot into the air without fear of attracting the police.
Small towns are no better than big cities and have strict security measures.
Even if the police station rushes over immediately after receiving the bank's alarm bell, it will still take seven or eight minutes.
This time was enough for them to fill two travel bags with banknotes.
In fact, robbery is an illegal job that is extremely efficient.
Getting the most results in the shortest time is the goal.
Those gangsters who broke into a bank, caused an accident, and were quickly blocked by the police.
To some extent, they are not professional enough.
"Open the vault and put the money in! Hurry up. If anyone delays, I will shoot him in the head."
The three gangsters quickly took control of the situation. Faced with a double-barreled shotgun, the bank employees and town residents obediently put their heads in their hands and squatted on the ground.
It's like encountering a highway robbery. Just hand over your wallet and don't try to resist, otherwise you may get a bullet.
"President Jefferson" used a Colt pistol to force the bank manager and an employee to open the vault and load the money.
The other one was standing guard at the door, looking out to scan the situation.
They had a clear division of labor, and there was no panic at all. They were probably not novices.
"It's okay, Mom, it will be over soon."
Clark stared at the gun-wielding gangsters. Out of his inner sense of justice, he wanted to jump out immediately to stop these bad guys from committing crimes.
But considering his mother's safety and the need to hide his identity, Clark could only temporarily suppress the complicated mood of being eager to try.
When your life is under the control of others, every second passes is so painful.
The "President Kennedy" holding a double-barreled shotgun seemed to enjoy the feeling of having the power of life and death.
The muzzle of the gun kept moving, and every movement caused a whimper of fear.
"Boss, that's it."
The long minutes finally passed, and "President Roosevelt" dropped the two stuffed travel bags on the ground.
The leader, "President Kennedy," kicked the bag in front of his accomplice at the door and asked him to throw it into the trunk of the car.
Not sure if the town police were still on their way, he raised his hand and looked at the time.
Only eight minutes have passed.
"Choose a hostage and get in the car."
The leader, "President Kennedy", was carrying a bag of money and said to his other friends.
"President Roosevelt", who was holding a Colt pistol, took a quick glance and finally selected Mrs. Kent, who was shaking and looking scared.
Female, middle age, probably housewife...
Such a label will make the police feel afraid and dare not take action directly.
The gangsters roughly grabbed Mrs. Kent and tried to take her away.
This brother did not know that his path was narrow.
Even General Zod was pinned to the ground and rubbed for trying to hurt Superman's mother.
When others do this, you can imagine the consequences.
"Clark!"
Just when Mrs. Kent screamed, Superman, who could no longer endure it, pounced like an angry bull with red eyes.
Bang!
Thanks to the recent daily special training from his cousin, Clark did not turn the gangster into a puddle of ketchup.
Caught off guard, he overturned the opponent and the Colt pistol that might have posed a "threat" slipped out.
"Fake! You little brat!"
The gangster didn't expect that he would actually capsize his boat in a ditch and be pinned to the ground by a high school student.
However, before he could do anything, a powerful fist smashed the bridge of his nose.
It felt like his cheek had been scraped with a steel knife, grinding away large chunks of skin.
This was the result of Clark holding back his strength.
Otherwise, the other person's head might explode like a watermelon.
Warm blood splashed on his face.
This was the first time he had fought with someone and saw blood. Clark was at a loss.
He stood up in a panic, and then saw two gangsters approaching outside the door.
The double-barreled shotgun was pointed at Clark's chest, and the gang leader wearing a "President Kennedy" mask let out a cruel laugh.
boom!
A cloud of smoke dispersed.
The powerful kinetic energy and shrapnel hit Superman.
Everyone in the bank covered their mouths, as if they couldn't bear to watch anymore.
Such a young life was about to die at the hands of gangsters... What a tragedy.
Mrs. Kent, in particular, was so excited that she almost fainted.
But after a few seconds, the bloody scene they expected did not appear.
Clark subconsciously looked at the shot chest, feeling a slight sting and couldn't help but take a few steps back.
Other than that, there was no other reaction.
"What the hell kind of monster are you?"
Now it was the gang leader's turn to be shocked.
The young, green-looking high school student in front of me is okay even after being hit by a shotgun
He didn't believe in evil, so he pulled the bolt and prepared to do it again.
But Clark did not give "President Kennedy" this chance. He also learned a lesson from his elder cousin, not to allow the enemy any room to counterattack.
In a few steps, he crossed the distance between the two of them.
He raised his hand to hold the double-barreled shotgun and squeezed it hard!
Crunch!
It makes a heartbreaking sound of metal deforming.
The barrel of the gun was instantly twisted into a twist.
Bang!
Clark easily snatched the scrapped gun from the gang leader's hand and threw it over his head like a baseball bat.
This time, he controlled the force perfectly.
It could result in severe concussion** at most, but it would never be life-threatening.
When the only remaining gangster, "President Jefferson" saw this scene, he hurriedly climbed into the car without looking back, started the engine, and drove away.
Clark wanted to catch up, but then suddenly stopped.
He couldn't leave his mother alone in the bank, it might be dangerous.
Ten seconds later, the bank clerk confirmed that the gangster had left, and gathered around Clark, looking at him with surprised eyes.
At this time, Superman realized something.
It seems that the secret that he is a Saiyan has been exposed
In desperation, Clark took action angrily, having long forgotten the reminders of his adoptive father Jonathan.
After dealing with the gangsters who robbed the bank, he finally remembered that he shouldn't have done this.
"You saved us!"
"This kid is a hero!"
"He was not injured..."
“…”
Various sounds crowded into Clark's ears, and he became a little at a loss, not knowing what to do.
For the first time in his life, he became the center of attention and was called a "hero".
Clark was not used to it, and he carefully pushed away those who gathered around him.
He helped his frightened mother up and prepared to leave.
At this time, the piercing siren sounded.
The police finally arrived.
But they only saw two unconscious gangsters and a cheerful bank employee.
How did this happen
The policeman had question marks written all over his face.
The scene didn't look like a bank robbery, but more like some kind of themed rave party.
"Officer, that's the kid in the school uniform."
Someone pointed at Clark and said.
"Everyone said you were the one who defeated these two armed gangsters?"
A fat police officer with a beer belly came over and asked. He observed the scene intentionally or unintentionally for a while and found the double-barreled shotgun that had been twisted into a twist.
"Did you do this too?"
Clark was a little cautious. He scratched his head and didn't know how to explain it.
"Don't be nervous, kid, I'm just taking a confession. You stopped a bank robbery and saved everyone present. They are all grateful to you, and the police station will also reward you."
The fat police officer was experienced and slowed down his tone, trying to dispel Clark's alertness, and then started to talk.
"Tell me, how did you defeat them?"
A high school student taking down two armed gangsters sounds like a fantasy.
Clark's throat rolled twice, and he remembered the words taught by his eldest cousin, and replied: "Officer, I, I am born with supernatural powers, and I can knock them over just by swinging my fist."
The fat police officer's round face suddenly became serious.
"Then this is also your natural power?"
He pointed at Clark's chest, which was so tattered that a hole was exposed in his clothes.
Those were shotgun marks. (End of chapter)