American comics: Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who worry about their fathers!.

Chapter 958: The dream omen of the new father's sorrow, the death of the king!

The next day.

The day after the events of Anti-Monitor and Darkseid.

Bat cave.

On the wet rock walls, water droplets slowly drip along the ancient stalactites, making clear echoes in the silent cave.

The blue light from the main console illuminated Bruce's tired face.

He sat in front of the Batcomputer, his knuckles pressed against his temples, as if fighting a never-ending headache.

"Bruce, you should rest."

Green Lantern Hal Jordan was suspended in mid-air, the light of his green lantern ring standing out in the dim cave.

He reminded Bruce, "You seem to have not slept at all."

Batman didn't look up, and said in a hoarse voice, "No time."

On the holographic screen, three "clown" heads unfolded on the screen.

Hal landed next to the Batcomputer and frowned at the screen.

"So, you really believe there are three clowns?"

Batman's fingertips ran across the keyboard, and he looked at the screen and said to Hal, "I don't know."

Hal folded his arms, the light from his ring flickering slightly.

"But there's only one 'Joker' - at least there should be."

As Hal was talking, he saw Bruce's hands were shaking slightly.

That was not caused by fear or excitement, but pure physical exhaustion.

"You haven't slept in three days."

Hal's tone was unusually serious. "Even Superman needs to rest, let alone you are just a..."

"Humanity?"

Batman said, finally looking up.

There was a deep dark circle under his eyes, but his gaze was still sharp.

"That's why I can't stop. I always feel that this matter is very important and I have to find out the truth."

Hal sighed and asked him, "Bruce, did that chair give you a name? Do you recognize those names?"

"No, it didn't give me a name."

"So what did it say?"

Bruce was silent for a moment, then continued, "It said there were three in total, but it didn't tell me their names."

"Is that so? Bruce…are you sure you want to track it down?"

Hal said in a low voice, "The Joker is dangerous enough, if there are three of them..."

Batman stood up, a shadow looming over his form.

"It is because of the danger that it must be resolved."

He walked over to the wreckage of the Batmobile.

This car, which was damaged in the battle with Darkseid, is now being slowly repaired on the automatic repair bench.

Seeing that he couldn't convince Bruce, Hal stopped insisting.

After all, this guy is quite stubborn, and I guess no one can convince him except Peter.

"correct."

Hal suddenly remembered something and asked Bruce, "Didn't you also ask about Mr. Peter Padrick? What did the Mobius Chair tell you?"

He was also quite interested in the mysterious Peter family.

Including the origin of Peter and his mysterious children.

Hearing Hal's question, Bruce was stunned for a moment, then shook his head and said to him: "You don't want to know, and I don't know everything about the Godfather."

A confused expression appeared on his face. "I didn't delve into the Godfather's affairs at the time. I always felt that there was a force, a powerful and extremely dangerous existence, watching me and preventing me from going deeper."

Bruce, like Night Owl, felt the powerful and mysterious presence.

Hal shuddered when he heard Bruce say this.

"Forget it. I won't delve into Mr. Padraic's secrets."

Any existence that can make Bruce tremble and feel fear must be very dangerous.

Padraic Farm.

After the war, the town of Smallville returned to peace.

To celebrate the earth being saved again, Persephone and Jane prepared a sumptuous dinner on the farm.

The afterglow of the setting sun shines on the vast land, and the golden wheat waves sway in the wind.

The long wooden table in the center of the farm was covered with a red and white checkered tablecloth and filled with sumptuous food.

The charred whole leg of lamb is sizzling with oil, with a crispy skin and tender and juicy inside; a large pot of creamy corn soup exudes a sweet aroma; the freshly baked bread basket is piled high with soft baguettes and garlic butter bread; the salad bowl is filled with fresh vegetables, drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar.

Courtney's father, Pat Dugan, stood by the grill, flipping the sizzling steaks, and the aroma of meat mixed with the scent of rosemary wafted in the air.

He was wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking much more relaxed than he did on the battlefield.

Although he was a complete bystander on the battlefield and did not dare to fight against Darkseid and the Anti-Monitor.

He suspected that if he had gone to war, the robot he had modified with his clumsy skills would have been hit by the aftermath of the battlefield and he would have gone to see God.

This one battle alone made him astounded by Peter and Peter's children.

He felt like he wanted to get out now.

I used to be Starman's helper, and it's not bad to be Peter now.

Although the opponent is not short of superhero power, a superhero always needs an assistant.

For example, refueling the car and making an action plan, I have done these before and am familiar with them.

"Is the steak medium rare or medium rare?"

he shouted to Peter.

"Well done," Peter replied, holding a plate of barbecue piled high in his hands.

These barbecues were put up by his daughters.

Courtney, who was sitting on the side, looked at her attentive father in silence.

She felt a little ashamed.

Why does my stepfather look like a follower? !

Could it be that my stepfather wanted to snatch the position of Peter's assistant from me?

Courtney narrowed his eyes, exuding a dangerous aura.

The other end.

Clark and Theresa sat at one end of the long table, and Clark used his thermal vision to help Theresa heat up the cold soup.

"Don't abuse your powers, Kent."

A-Zu on the side complained unhappily, but took the red wine handed to him by Persephone and poured himself a glass.

Using thermal vision to heat things, he felt that Clark was making some innuendos.

By the way, my counterpart in the black robe world likes to use thermal vision to heat milk, right?
"Hey, at least I didn't use super speed to steal food."

Clark shrugged and said to Zu.

The Flash, Barry Allen, happened to appear at the dining table, holding a handful of French fries in his hand and his mouth full.

When he heard Clark say cheating, he immediately stopped what he was doing and smiled awkwardly at everyone.

At the other end of the dining table where Clark was sitting, Baobao was squatting on the edge of the table like a restless cat, holding a roasted lamb rib in his hand and gnawing on it until his face was covered in grease.

"This stuff tastes much better than turkey!"

She announced vaguely.

Baobao feels that the taste of turkey is far worse than that of lamb.

She thinks turkey meat is too tough and has little flavor, and she hates eating turkey at Thanksgiving the most.

Theresa sat elegantly opposite her, cutting a medium-rare fillet steak with a silver knife and fork.

"If you can use cutlery, maybe you can taste more flavors, pop."

Theresa complained to Bakugo.

Baobao rolled his eyes at Theresa.

Although he felt a little unhappy, he still handed over the half-eaten ribs: "Here, want to try?"

Theresa was stunned for a moment. She didn't expect the little lunatic to give her food on his own initiative.

After looking at Peter, Theresa took the ribs and took a bite under Baobao's expectant gaze.

"Hmm... unexpectedly good."

Baobao grinned, and her newly tied blue braid swayed proudly.

Peter was in a very good mood as he looked at everyone having fun.

He looked down at the watch on his wrist.

He had been concentrating on fighting Darkseid and the Anti-Monitor, as well as Grey's rebellion, and he didn't notice that the pointer on his wrist was almost reaching the end.

Could it be that after Theresa, there will be a new father-sorrower? !

When Peter thought about the chaos that would happen on the whole farm if another naughty child came along, he covered his forehead with his hands in a headache.

If another new father-shy person comes along, I really might not be able to hold on any longer.

night.

As night fell, Clark lit a bonfire in the center of the farm.

Everyone sat together, the firelight illuminating every tired yet relaxed face.

"Cheers to the survivors." The vixen raised her glass.

"To the dead," Diana added softly.

"I hope you can have a few more days of rest before the next battle."

Hal threw the beer bottle into the fire and it exploded with a loud bang.

Mars rises and merges into the starry night sky.

Accompanied by his family, Peter looked at the starry sky in the distance.

The starlight tonight is unexpectedly brilliant.

late at night.

Peter went to bed early.

In his dream, Peter vaguely saw a war.

He found himself on a battlefield.

Standing on a desolate battlefield, Peter looked up. The sky was leaden gray, and the thick clouds were hanging very low, as if they would fall at any time.

The wind, carrying the smell of blood and scorched earth, blew across his cheeks.

The ground was soaked in blood, broken swords and spears were stuck in the mud, and the flags fluttered in the wind, but they were already in tatters.

In the distance, crows were circling, making shrill cries.

"This is where?"

Peter stepped forward in confusion, his boots sinking into the mud, and every step felt like stepping on the bodies of the dead.

Corpses were piled up like mountains, the knights' armor was split open, the corpses of war horses lay across the ground, and arrows were stuck in the ground like thorns.

Then Peter saw two figures.

The golden armor of a blonde woman was stained with blood, and her sword was deeply embedded in the ground, supporting her shaky body.

And in front of her was another knight.

The knight's helmet shattered, revealing a face that was similar to the blonde woman's, yet completely different.

With a crazy smile on her face, she thrust the sword deep into the blonde's chest.

(End of this chapter)