Kryptonians: Man of Steel

Chapter 1538 Invincible Iron Fist, Quiet and Adorable

However, when he climbed over the wall and stepped onto the familiar campus grounds, a strong sense of alienation arose spontaneously.

The bright sunlight made him squint slightly. The students' laughter and chatter, the music from club activities in the distance—these everyday noises sounded so distant and unreal at this moment, as if they were seen through a thick layer of frosted glass.

The lingering smell of blood on him and the chilling aura emanating from the deep alleyways clashed sharply with the vibrant youthfulness of the campus.

Just as he lowered his head and hurried towards the side door of the teaching building, trying to disappear into the crowd as quickly as possible, a familiar voice, filled with stern questioning, boomed behind him like thunder:

"Hachiman Hachiman! Halt!"

Hachiman Hikigaya's body instantly stiffened, as if he had been nailed to the spot by an invisible icicle.

He took a deep breath and slowly turned around.

In the bright sunlight of the corridor, Ms. Hiratsuka was leaning against the corner leading to the staff room with her arms crossed.

She wore her ever-present white lab coat, a cigarette dangling from her lips, her sharp gaze like a searchlight piercing through the sparse human presence in the corridor, locking firmly onto him.

This Mandarin teacher and life guidance counselor, who was known for his violence and "iron fist of love," always paid unusually high attention to this "problem student."

"Where did you just go?"

Hiratsuka Shizuka straightened up and strode over with an imposing air. The sound of her high heels clicking on the floor was exceptionally clear in the quiet corridor. "You've been gone for the entire class period, and you haven't answered your phone. Don't tell me you've been hiding on the rooftop or in some equipment room, getting moldy again!"

Hachiman Hikigaya's heart skipped a beat, but his face remained impassive, as if he were wearing a perfect plaster mask.

He mustered all his remaining "energy-saving" acting skills, trying to restore the emptiness in his eyes to their former state, and replied in a flat, even slightly impatient tone: "Hiratsuka-sensei. My stomach suddenly started hurting badly during class, so I went to the toilet."

He even frowned slightly, as if enduring the aftereffects of some discomfort.

"My phone...maybe it was out of battery, or maybe it was on silent and I didn't notice."

The excuse was so cliché that even he wanted to roll his eyes, but it was the least likely to be exposed on the spot—he was betting that Hiratsuka Shizuka wouldn't actually go to the men's restroom to check.

"is it?"

Hiratsuka Shizuka had already walked up to him, so close that he could smell the faint scent of tobacco on her.

She lowered her head slightly, her experienced and insightful eyes scrutinizing him like an unprecedented scrutiny, as if scalpels his face, not missing a single subtle change in expression.

"Stomach ache? Your face is a little pale...but..."

Hachiman Hikigaya forced himself to relax his shoulders, maintaining that "I'm really tired, don't bother me" expression, and met Shizuka Hiratsuka's gaze without flinching.

He mobilized his newly acquired control over his body, suppressing the subtle tremors caused by tension and the conflict of power within him, ensuring that his eyes and expression were "flawless".

He believed his "energy-saving" poker face was well-honed and capable of handling this level of questioning.

However, Hiratsuka Shizuka's next words were like a stone thrown into a stagnant pool, stirring up waves in his heart far more intense than the battle they had just fought.

"It seems that your change is really quite significant..." Hiratsuka Shizuka's voice lowered, carrying a hint of disbelief and deep inquiry, "Even your signature, half-dead fish eyes have completely disappeared."

Hachiman Hikigaya's heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly by an invisible hand!
Dead fish eyes... gone? How is that possible?!
Those eyes, always drooping, unfocused, as if they see through all the boredom and hypocrisy in the world, and filled with a strong sense of weariness and self-preservation, are the most prominent feature of Hachiman Hikigaya. They are the outward manifestation of his decadent soul, a core component of his "Master" persona, and a natural barrier he uses to isolate himself from the outside world and protect himself!

It was a part of him, as natural as breathing! He never imagined it would disappear!

He was completely stunned, and even the poker face he had been trying to maintain showed a crack.

The events that occurred during this period were like an out-of-control train, one after another, violently impacting his world: bizarre monster attacks, life-or-death struggles, the pain of his body being forcibly modified, and the power that felt like a deal with the devil... Each one was enough to overturn his understanding.

He was like a drowning man struggling in a storm, only concerned with clinging to the driftwood in front of him to survive, with no time to pay attention to the changes in his appearance.

He hadn't even looked in the mirror properly in a long time.

A mirror? To him, that thing was nothing more than a tool to confirm that he was still alive and whether there were any grains of rice on his face.

He couldn't even remember the last time he had seriously looked at his own face.

It's not good at all, so I'm not going to watch it.

In that moment of intense shock, his eyes instinctively and frantically searched for an object that could reflect his own image.

His gaze swept hastily across the smooth wall tiles and spotless windows of the corridor... finally settling on a gleaming stainless steel locker at the door of a classroom not far away.

The smooth metal surface, under the slanting sunlight, resembled a blurry, distorted mirror.

He almost held his breath, forcing himself to focus, looking at his own eyes reflected in the metal.

Hiratsuka Shizuka was not mistaken.

Those once iconic "dead fish eyes," which seemed forever shrouded in a layer of gray fog, lacking vitality and fighting spirit, have completely disappeared!
Instead, there was a pair of completely different eyes.

The color of his pupils seemed deeper, like a bottomless, icy pool. The shape of his eyelids became clearer and sharper, the lines as if meticulously drawn.

What's most striking is the look in his eyes—no longer a listless, languid, and defensively weary gaze, but rather... an indescribable sharpness!

A chilling insight that seems to penetrate appearances and pierce the essence!
A vigilance and focus forged in countless brushes with death, like a blade drawn from its sheath!

Deep within those eyes lay a composure far beyond that of his peers, almost cruel, as if he had just been gazing into an abyss and had not yet completely withdrawn from it.

"What? You didn't even notice?"

This reaction further confirmed her observation.

She narrowed her eyes slightly, took a small step closer, and said with an almost affirmative emphasis, "The light in your eyes right now doesn't lie. It's not weariness, it's not despondency... it's the light of a blade being sharpened, it's the 'fierceness' of someone who's seen blood and whose edge has been honed! That kind of look..."

(End of this chapter)