American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 115 Gled: An alien? Isn't that just a country bumpkin begging for food on Earth?
"what do you mean…"

Glad blinked, his wariness gradually replaced by an incredulous curiosity.

"Your name is Locke Kent...you're His Majesty the Emperor's...deceased uncle?"

"You do not believe?"

Locke crossed his arms, bracing himself for a barrage of questions and even ridicule.

"Believe it, why don't you believe it?"

Gled answered with unusual decisiveness, even with a sense of entitlement.

"..."

This time it was Locke's turn to be surprised.

He had anticipated all sorts of reactions, but he never expected the other party to accept this absurd statement so easily.

He raised an eyebrow slightly, sizing up the young man in front of him.

Gladell seemed to read his confusion, shrugged indifferently, and explained:

“No legitimate citizen of the Kingdom of Heaven would dare to joke about His Majesty the Emperor’s relatives, especially a deceased elder.”

“That’s blasphemy, a grave sin.” He paused, his tone calm yet resolute. “Just the fact that you dare to say that shows you don’t belong here.”

"..."

Locke stroked his chin, thinking that although the logic was simple and crude, it was indeed very reasonable.

"Aren't you afraid I'm an alien? Infiltrating your resistance by impersonating someone?"

He changed his approach and continued to probe.

Upon hearing this, Glad gave him a thorough once-over with an appraising look, then pondered for a moment before saying:
Actually... I'm not that scared.

"Oh?"

"Those cosmic bumpkins are nothing more than beggars on our Earth."

Gled curled his lip, his tone even carrying a hint of inexplicable 'sympathy,' "They basically can't reach our surface."

"His Majesty deals with them as efficiently as clearing track debris. As for those that manage to sneak off..."

"They are probably too weak; His Majesty would not bother to make a move."

“And aliens of that level are usually no match for us.” He paused, a strange confidence creeping into his voice. “We’ve dealt with quite a few of those small fry.”

Without waiting for Locke to speak again, he stepped forward, patted Locke on the shoulder with an "I understand you" expression, and his tone became somewhat sentimental:
“Seriously, sir.”

Gled sighed, his eyes filled with complex emotions. "I'm actually starting to believe what you're saying now."

"why?"

“Because of your ‘ignorant’ appearance, which is curious about everything and wants to ask about everything…” Glad said frankly, “you really don’t seem like a person of this era, but rather like someone from… from that legendary, freer ‘past’.”

"..."

Looking at Glad's self-righteous yet seemingly logically consistent demeanor, Locke couldn't help but laugh. He shrugged.

"Alright, you have a point. Actually, I was invited here by Giorno, the commander of your resistance army."

Giorno?

Glad's knowing expression froze instantly, turning into genuine confusion. "Who is that?"

Locke pondered for a moment, trying to find a more distinctive feature.

"It's... well, the one with the donut-shaped hairstyle."

"oh--!"

Gled clapped his hands suddenly, realizing, "You mean Captain Diablo!"

"..."

Locke fell silent again.

He suppressed the urge to complain, took a deep breath, and decided to stop dwelling on the name issue.

"That's right, it's him. He's the one who brought me from the past."

Upon hearing this, Glad's face first showed extreme shock, which quickly turned into unbelievable ecstasy, and his eyes lit up as if he had finally seen the dawn in the darkness.

"The organization's plan... actually succeeded?"

He murmured to himself, his voice trembling with excitement, "I... I've been infiltrating the archives for so many years, secretly passing information... My efforts... weren't in vain? Is there really 'hope from the past'?"

He suddenly raised his head, his eyes filled with unprecedented fervor and respect as he looked at Locke.

All previous tests and doubts have completely vanished.

"gentlemen!"

He said firmly, "It's not safe here. Please come with me immediately!"

Following behind Glad, the two moved swiftly through the intricate network of sewers. Glad seemed to have completely let his guard down, occasionally turning back to ask small questions about the 'past' in a low voice, his tone filled with barely suppressed curiosity.

Locke gave casual replies, but his mind was not on the conversation at all.

because
In his mind, another voice, one that only he could hear, was echoing.

The voice, clear yet tinged with a feigned profundity, resonated directly in his consciousness through the magical link:

"Father, now that we're all here, the world seems orderly yet lifeless..."

The voice paused, as if giving it some 'serious' thought, "Why don't we just take control of it? That would definitely be more interesting than things are like this now."

"."

Locke raised his hand somewhat helplessly and gently scratched the mini dragon soul that had appeared out of nowhere and was now floating and circling around his head. He responded with demonic energy in return:

"You little rascal, why aren't you even pretending anymore?"

"."

The tiny dragon soul paused in mid-air, flicked its tail, and snorted.

"It's just the two of us in this world, father and son. My useless and weak older brother isn't here either. Without my help, Father, you definitely can't handle these troubles by yourself. So I have no choice but to reveal my true form." Its tone carried a sense of self-righteous disdain. "Besides, now only I can help you."

"You brat," Locke thought to himself irritably, "Don't talk about your brother like that."

"hehe."

"Shen Du" let out a clear, cold laugh. "Father, I'm just stating the facts."

Locke narrowed his eyes, deciding to unleash his trump card: "Alright."

"Since you're so resourceful, then I'm going to enjoy the cake that your brother Dior will bring back tonight all by myself!"

"No... Father! Don't do that!"

The dragon soul, which had been so composed just moments before, panicked instantly, twisting anxiously in the air, its golden light flickering erratically.

"Cake! I want half of the cake!"

So why is making cake more important than conquering the world?
"Then stay by my side." With a slight smile, Locke chuckled and scolded with his demonic energy, "Stop thinking about these nonsense all day. Be careful you don't end up like your brother Clark in this world, sitting alone on that golden toilet."

“Fine,” Shen Du said sullenly. “You’re the father, so you get to decide.”

"Humph."

Seeing how sensible the child was, Locke couldn't help but smile.

Obviously
Although he said he was angry, he wasn't actually that angry.

Instead, a sense of inexplicable peace and joy welled up within me.

Locke actually thought he was alone when he was thrown into this cold and unfamiliar future world.

Unexpectedly, this little fellow, whose soul coexists with Salafir's, was also able to bring a portion of demonic energy with him through some kind of link that he did not yet fully understand, allowing it to reside in that mysterious Dragon Court space.

And speaking of it...

Locke was genuinely curious.

Where exactly is the Dragon Court space that he and Salafir control located?

It seems to exist independently of any specific universe; otherwise, it would be inexplicable why, despite crossing the cosmic barrier, it could still maintain contact with that place.
"gentlemen."

Gled, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped and respectfully lowered his voice, interrupting Locke's wandering thoughts.

He pointed ahead to a heavy metal door that was almost blending into the rusted pipe wall.

"We've arrived. The base is right here."

Locke composed himself, nodded, and didn't hesitate for long.

He stepped forward, reached out and pushed open the seemingly heavy door, and stepped inside—

The place inside the door was not the secret stronghold of the resistance army that he had imagined.

There were no busy staff, no flashing communication screens, and no one to greet him.

There is only one.
The darkness was almost suffocating, and the walls were cold and hard metal.

“Click—!”

A clear and cold metallic clang came from behind.

The door was completely locked from the outside.

Locke stood still, adjusting to the faint light in the darkness, looking around at the small, empty space of less than five square meters.

He was speechless for a moment.

That guy Gled...

All the excitement, trust, and even adoration he displayed along the way were actually an act.
(End of this chapter)