American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 125 Eight Trigrams - Thunderclap. (Updated at 15,000 words, please subscribe and vote!)
[Saraphiel Kent/Fire Demon Shendu, 5 years old]

[Ability Awakening: Divine Power - Explosion, Divine Power - Healing.]

[Loading parental privileges for the host: Gossip·Thunder.]

"..."

He glanced at the faintly flickering, ever-pulsating azure arc of electricity at his fingertips.

Looking again at the semi-transparent system panel that had quietly appeared before him, Locke couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

He truly deserves to be called one of the most talented candidates for the Sorcerer Supreme.

This guides efficiency...

Nothing to say.

In just twenty minutes, both Salaphir and the gods had gained divine power.

It's a pity.
Now is not the time to calmly study the 'Thunder' energy.

I composed myself and turned my attention back to my nephew, who looked troubled.

Looking into Clark's blue eyes, which were now slightly brightening with a hint of unease, Locke confirmed:

"You mean..."

"Lately, whenever you concentrate intensely and focus on a specific point, your eyes will focus on that thing..."

"Dissolve, or ignite directly?"

He nodded vigorously, even to demonstrate more clearly.

Clark turned his head and focused his gaze precisely on an innocent little white wildflower blooming on the grass not far away.

"Crack!"

With a crisp sound, the petals of the wildflower quickly curled and charred to a visible speed.

Finally, a small flame burst forth and turned it to ashes!

and….
It doesn't seem like it's going to stop yet.

Even the wild grass nearby began to burn.

"Stop! Stop! Stop right now!"

"We mustn't accidentally start a forest fire! Our farm can't withstand such a fire."

Locke quickly reached out and pressed down on Clark's shoulder.

A faint arc of electricity flickered at the fingertips.

The boy was able to suppress the leaking energy in a flash.

Having come this far, how could Locke not understand?
Clark is at a critical stage of physical development.

One of his signature abilities.

—The heat vision has begun to appear uncontrollably and become restless.

"Uncle, can you help me control it?"

Clark looked away, his face showing obvious annoyance.

He unconsciously clenched his fist, saying dejectedly, "I originally wanted to figure it out and master it on my own. But I tried many times in private, and always ended up failing..."

"Either there's no response at all, or... just like before, it's completely out of control."

He lowered his head, his voice filled with self-doubt:
"Uncle, am I... really useless? I can't even control my own body..."

"a piece of cake."

Locke reached out and ruffled his nephew's thick black hair, his tone relaxed.

“Listen, Clark, this is what growing up is all about.”

"During the growth process, the body and strength will naturally encounter all kinds of unprecedented problems, which is perfectly normal."

"This doesn't mean you're useless. On the contrary, recognizing the problem and working hard to overcome and solve it will only make you stronger than before."

"and"

"Believe in yourself, Clark."

Locke paused, his expression turning serious:

"I trust the special training your uncle is giving you!"

As he spoke, he casually pulled out some balloons left over from decorating the party earlier from his pocket.

With just a slight thought, "Platinum Star" quietly took the balloon and headed to the tap under the windmill.

With precise and swift movements, the balloons were filled with water, and then steadily handed back to Locke.

"?!"

"Uncle...this..."

Looking at those balloons that shimmered in the sunlight.

Clark's face was filled with incomprehension and confusion.

"This is your initial task for the next few days, Clark."

Locke shook the water ball in his hand, his tone calm:
"Use your eyes to heat up these water spheres."

"The goal is to heat the liquid inside the balloon evenly and precisely until it boils without damaging or burning the balloon's surface."

"Even in the end, you have to do it..."

Pick up a balloon and hold it in your palm.

until—

An amazing thing happened!
The water sphere began to slowly inflate at a visible rate, growing larger and more transparent...

Eventually, after reaching a critical point...
"boom!"

With a muffled thud, the water balloon burst open.

Strangely, no water droplets splashed out from inside the bursting balloon!

Only a surge of warm, moist vapor suddenly emerged, and along with the purple figure of Locke wreathed in electric arcs, it dissipated into the air.

Yes
In that extremely short period of time just now.

Locke manipulates the Thunderous Qi through the "Platinum Star".

This directly electrolyzes the water molecules inside the balloon into hydrogen and oxygen!
He Locke couldn't do such meticulous work.

Is "Platinum Star" not good enough?
Luckily, my stand-in is the cafeteria's hot sauce.

Otherwise, having only just mastered the power of thunder and lightning and not yet fully developed it, he would obviously find it difficult to manipulate the electric current to precisely electrolyze the water in the balloon.

This makes it difficult to demonstrate this incredibly precise energy control to Clark in a concrete way.

“Look at this, Clark.”

"This is the final form you must strive to achieve."

Locke pointed to the dry, slightly damp fragment of the balloon on the ground and said seriously:

"It's not just about heating, but also about learning the micro-management of energy release."

"That is, adding liquid into the water balloon until it boils, without damaging the balloon itself."

"Then the process involves smoothly converting all the internal liquid into water vapor."

"In this way, the balloon is naturally inflated by the pressure of the steam, allowing it to be steadily 'blown open' by the water vapor."

"?!"

Looking at the rubber fragments trembling gently in the breeze, Clark glanced at Locke's face, which was filled with the thought, "Isn't this simple?"

His eyes widened in surprise.

How is that even possible?!
"Uncle, this difficulty..."

He said subconsciously.

But when he looked up and met Locke's encouraging gaze...

Clark swallowed back what he was about to say.

Even his eyes hardened again, and he nodded firmly: "I...I'll try!"

"Alright! Then, let's begin the first lesson now!"

Without hesitation, Locke raised another full water balloon, holding it steadily in his palm, as if to say:

"Just like that, heat up this water balloon in my hand directly, Clark! Don't worry, trust me, and trust yourself."

"uncle!"

Clark's heart leaped into his throat. If that were the case, wouldn't that mean...?

What if I lose control and the energy explodes?
What if I accidentally get killed by my uncle in a second?!

He simply couldn't bear to think about the consequences!
“Don’t be afraid, Clark. Cast heat vision at me.”

Locke spoke calmly, his eyes showing no fear.

This is it.
Trust?
Taking a deep breath, Clark stared intently at the water balloon.

Ding--!
Indistinctly.
Locke could also sense some kind of invisible energy in the air carefully gathering and heating up.

Training began in full swing.

However, it was only when the uncle and nephew were fully focused on starting this extremely demanding training that they began.

Behind the fence in the distance.

Two pairs of eyes were cautiously observing this side.

"Oh dear! How could Locke train his children like that!"

Jonathan was so anxious that he stomped his feet and almost ripped a piece of grass off the ground.

"That's just a small water sphere! What if we don't control it properly and the heat spreads out, wouldn't it melt it? It might even hurt Locke! It's too dangerous! How can we do this!"

"What are you doing? Keep your voice down!"

Martha glared at her husband, then quickly pulled him down a little, lowering her voice as she said:

"So, in your opinion, how should we train him? Should we train him like you used to teach him to control his strength? By putting a scarecrow in his hands and making him box?"

"..."

Jonathan was momentarily speechless after being retorted by his wife. He opened his mouth, but after a long pause, he mumbled:
"At least... at least we should prepare a thicker, more heat-resistant target, right?"

"Or... perhaps we could start with larger, less difficult-to-break targets? For example..."

"A bowl of water?"

“You…” Martha shook her head helplessly, reaching out to lightly tap Jonathan’s forehead in annoyance. “Stop worrying! Locke knows what he’s doing! As someone with special powers, he knows better than us how to guide Clark. What’s the use of you getting anxious here?”

"Hahaha," Jonathan chuckled awkwardly.

“Really,” Martha sighed, but after hesitating for a moment, she couldn’t help but ask, “When are you going to tell him about Clark?”

"Don't rush, honey, Clark is still just a kid."

"Jonathan."

Martha's tone, however, was firm:

"Clark is almost eighteen years old, and under the guidance of our family, he has become a kind and sensible boy."

"Sooner or later he will have to face his origins and figure out where he came from."

“Locke talked to me about it a few days ago. He felt that it might be time to tell the two children the way they came.”

"Martha, wait a minute, look at Clark."

Jonathan said in a panic, "He's still worried about his new abilities."

"Don't delay, Jonathan."

"Clark is very..."

"."

The speaker suddenly paused.

Seeing her husband's almost pleading eyes, Martha finally softened and didn't continue.

"I don't care about you."

With that one sentence, the helpless wife turned and prepared to leave.

“I’ve gone back to entertaining the guests; old Henry and old Bob seem to be quite drunk. By the way, instead of worrying here, why don’t you come and help? Also…”

As if suddenly remembering something, Martha stopped and added, "Lex seems a little drunk; he's pulling Salafir and talking nonsense. Go help him up so he doesn't fall."

"..."

Jonathan curled his lip.

But watching his wife's departing figure, he was still filled with worry.
But on the grass in the distance
It was Clark, whose expression was extremely focused, and Locke, who was calmly giving instructions from the side.

He finally sighed and followed Martha back, turning back every few steps.
-
Moonlight poured down on the courtyard of Kent Farm like quicksilver.

As the noise subsided, the guests gradually departed.

Old Bob yawned and patted Jonathan on the shoulder, muttering that he had to catch the last train back to Florida before staggering toward his old house.

Chloe carefully helped the somewhat unsteady old Henry as they slowly made their way onto the path leading to town.

Lana paused briefly, her gaze subtly searching the courtyard. Not finding the familiar, tall figure, a fleeting hint of disappointment crossed her eyes.

He didn't linger long, politely smiled and said goodbye to Martha, then disappeared into the moonlit country lane.

Meanwhile, after teaching Salafir two simple and fun magic tricks, Zatanna watched the boy practice excitedly and smiled with satisfaction, leaving behind a remark:
"I'll come back to see how much you've improved next time."

Just as she came, she appeared suddenly and left suddenly.

that's it.

The courtyard, once filled with laughter and joy, now appeared exceptionally empty and quiet, leaving only...

"Uncle Jonathan! You tell me! You be the judge! How can there be such a thing in this world... such a completely illogical thing!"

Lex, who was always impeccably dressed, was seen.

At this moment, his whole body was wrinkled and crumpled, and his silk tie was pulled crooked to one side.

He was practically pounding on Jonathan's back, shouting indignantly:

"I had only good intentions! I had the best of intentions!"

“I saw that the indigenous people on the reserve on the edge of the town were living in difficult conditions and the community was old, so I spent real money to buy that piece of land on the edge!”

"My plans are all clearly written out: I want to build modern, environmentally friendly new apartment buildings!"

"After it's built, I plan to provide it as staff dormitories for their young people at a very low rent—no, almost free! I want to genuinely improve their lives!" "But what did they do?! Not only did they not appreciate it, but they also protested downstairs at my company every day with signs, saying that I was desecrating their sacred place, destroying their traditions, and ruining their environment!"

"They're a bunch of...a bunch of incomprehensible bastards!"

Letting out a burp, Lex grew increasingly agitated, waving a beer bottle, "I...I..."

"Even my development of that land was in the name of environmental protection!"

"Those damn indigenous people! It must be because they litter and dump wastewater indiscriminately that the soil is so severely contaminated with radiation!"

"And I, the good Samaritan who uses the latest technology to carry out environmental remediation and regeneration projects to help them eliminate hidden dangers, have instead been falsely accused by them!"

Upon hearing this, Jonathan, who was also quite drunk, turned red in the face and was panting heavily.

He nodded vigorously in agreement, his tongue almost tied in knots:
"Well said! Lex! Let me tell you!"

"Back when my Kent family, my grandfather, Mr. Kent, was cultivating this land, it was incredibly difficult! Even so, we still donated our grain to those poor Native Americans. Then one day... we almost... we almost got captured by those Native Americans and had our heads taken!"

"My goodness! Just hearing my dad say it makes my heart race!"

"Waaaaah, Uncle Jonathan!"

"Lex! It's okay, you're a good boy!"

that's all.
A young, ambitious business tycoon and an old-school rancher.
In this hazy moonlight and with the effects of the wine, they found themselves getting along better and better, feeling as if they had known each other for a long time, and almost bursting into tears.

Together they lamented the hardships of the world and the profound pain of being misunderstood.

So when Locke and Clark, who had finished their initial training and looked tired, returned to the courtyard...

What I saw was a deeply moving scene.

The two of them were stunned and stood there dumbfounded.

"It seems..."

Martha had walked over unnoticed, and seeing the two drunken friends who were about to collapse on the ground, she smiled helplessly.

"Those two will have to stay here tonight, Locke."

Locke nodded, and couldn't help but chuckle as he looked at Jonathan and Lex with their arms around each other's shoulders.

There's nothing we can do about it.

It's because Lex never brings bodyguards when he comes here.

This is much more endearing than his father Lionel, who always had a huge entourage wherever he went.

That guy would occasionally come by back then, and after getting drunk with me, he would always be carefully carried back by a group of bodyguards in black.

"It's a pity."

Martha's tone was tinged with regret: "He kept saying he wanted to see Dior. It was a rare treat to be able to escape from his busy schedule and relax today, but he still didn't get a chance to meet Dior."

"It's alright. It's the harvest festival today, there are lots of tourists in town."

Locke chuckled and explained casually, "I reckon it's packed all the dessert shops in town. The cake shop where Dior works must be incredibly busy. He's probably still making bread rolls in the kitchen right now, isn't he?"

"..."

Salafir and Clark, who were standing to the side, exchanged a knowing glance.

The two brothers wisely chose to keep their mouths shut, focusing their attention on their own thoughts, and resolutely refrained from making any comments at that moment.

"Anyway, let Lex sleep here for now."

Locke arranged, "There will always be a chance to see him tomorrow when he sobers up. Dio will be back in a little while."

"Um……"

Martha nodded. "Then we'll leave them with you for now. Clark and I will head back. After all, this child..."

She glanced at the bag of balloons Clark was still clutching tightly in his hand and couldn't help but smile.

"I guess he won't have any other thoughts until he has completely completed the task you assigned him."

"mom!"

Clark protested somewhat embarrassedly.

"Alright, alright." Martha covered her mouth and chuckled. "Then let's go, Clark."

talking
She took Clark's arm, and the mother and son left the Kent farm, their figures gradually blending into the clear moonlight as they walked along the path towards home.

Salafir and Locke were left standing there, staring at each other in bewilderment.

"How did you learn from Sister Zatanna today?"

Locke bent down and said gently.

"It's a bit difficult to learn..."

Salafir's face fell instantly, her eyes filled with disappointment.

He stretched out his little hand and gestured:

"Those techniques require too much dexterity in the fingers. This twisting, that flipping, I can never get it right..."

Magic tricks still require a lot of practice.

Salafir sighed.

Can.
Upon hearing this, Locke's heart sank.

magic
Is it really that difficult?
Did Zatanna teach something very complicated?
He gently comforted her, "It's okay, you're still young. Don't rush, take your time."

"But time is running out."

Salafir shook his head, his little brows furrowed, looking worried.

"..."

A huge question mark instantly appeared above Locke's head.

time is limited?
Could it be that kid from "Divine Capital" told us about the future?
“Sarafil”.

He quickly softened his tone and said apologetically, "With Dad here, even if the sky falls, it's okay. You don't need to be so nervous. We're not in a hurry about the future."

"Are you nervous? A little..."

Salafir nodded honestly.

After all, it's only two weeks until Dad's 40th birthday!

It's really difficult to learn magic in such a short time and then perform a wonderful birthday gift that will draw cheers from the audience.

He felt he needed to have another meeting with "Shen Du" tonight to thoroughly discuss the battle plan.

"Ugh"

Seeing Salafir's worried face instead of her usual carefree demeanor, Locke couldn't help but sigh with heartache.

After thinking about it, I decided to give my son some encouragement and something to look forward to.

"Sarafil, don't be discouraged. How about this, if you practice diligently these next few days, Dad will reward you with a 'mysterious big surprise' in a few days! How about it?"

"?!"

Salafir was taken aback, then his eyes lit up instantly.

"Brother, look! Father has recognized our efforts!"

The excited voice of "Divine Capital" immediately rang in his mind, "We must learn magic properly!"

"Ok!"

Salafir nodded vigorously, his earlier disappointment vanished, and he was filled with renewed energy!

Seeing his son regain his spirits, Locke felt a sense of relief.

He smiled, then summoned "Platinum Star," which made the burly purple Stand appear and effortlessly carry one of them on each side, transporting the completely drunk Lex and Jonathan to the inner room.

But after taking only two steps, Locke seemed to suddenly remember something, stopped, and turned back, saying:
"By the way, Salafir, did Dio tell you which cake shop he works at in town?"

"How about we sneak over and take a look next time? Let's give him a surprise."

"..."

Salafir's face instantly tightened, and her eyes began to dart around.

"dad."

He said in a low voice, his tone very serious, "I think...this is not good."

"Huh? Why?" Locke was taken aback.

"My brother said...if you dare to go to the cake shop to find him..."

"He's about to run away from home."

"???"

Locke's smile froze instantly.

The elderly father felt as if he had been struck a thousand times over.
-
Gotham.

Iceberg Club.

The night was deep, unlike the tranquil starry sky of Smallwell.

The sky here is dyed a sickly blue-purple by the city's neon lights.

“Mr. Diego, here is $20,000 for today.”

Club director Roccoman handed a heavy black briefcase to Dior, who had just changed back into casual clothes.

"As you requested, we have a mix of old and new banknotes, both in large and small bills, for your convenience."

He added.

Dior nodded expressionlessly, took the suitcase, and casually weighed it in his hand.

Then his cold gaze swept over a waiter who stood with his hands at his sides.

The waiter, startled by the gaze, instinctively straightened his back and replied:

"Yes, Mr. Diego! I'll go get your car right away!"

After saying that, he immediately ran towards the parking lot in a great hurry.

Seeing this, Rocman smiled helplessly, but then, remembering something, he stepped forward and lowered his voice, saying:
"Mr. Diego, are you leaving now?"

“Ms. Elana Falcone just called, almost crying, begging you to wait for her.”

"She seems to be... being kept under house arrest by her father, and is now trying to sneak out to see you."

Foolish woman.
Dior raised his wrist, glanced at the expensive watch, and said in a completely calm tone, "It's almost twelve o'clock."

"Is it almost midnight?"

Roccoman was taken aback, not understanding why.

So what if it's midnight? Gotham's nightlife is just getting started!

But he knew the temperament of the 'king' in front of him well, and besides, the king was now the boss's favorite.

Even just by acting as his agent, he managed to make Ogilvy hesitate and avoid giving him any trouble.

So he didn't dare ask any more questions, but instead said:

"So... will you be coming next week? Many customers are already inquiring about your availability."

"next week……"

Dior frowned slightly and calculated the time.

That woman named Elana probably won't be able to get out.

He could no longer count on that 'generous donation'.

"can."

He nodded, his tone certain.

About once next week, and then again the week after...

With the current market conditions, even without that foolish woman, earning sixty or even seventy thousand dollars would be a piece of cake.

He calmly calculated in his mind:

I spent $100,000 to buy my father that custom Harley-Davidson as a birthday present.

And the remaining 50,000 dollars...

Smash it right in his face!

Hmph…

Hum hum!
Dior laughed wildly in his heart!

Just imagining that scene made him feel that all the 'endurance and humiliation' he had endured during this period was worthwhile.

It was absolutely amazing!
"Sir, your car."

The waiter, panting, pushed the black Harley-Davidson motorcycle over.

Though his inner elation had vanished, Dior outwardly remained as cold as an iceberg.

He simply nodded, secured the suitcase to the back of the vehicle, then conveniently put on his helmet and straddled it.

With a turn of the key, the engine emitted a deep, powerful roar.

“Mr. Diego, there is one more thing.”

Seeing that Dio was about to leave, Rocman quickly added, "The club will be hosting a large Halloween masquerade ball the week after next."

"It's of a very high standard."

"If you can attend, it would be best to prepare a mask that matches the theme in advance."

"or…"

"We will arrange for our club to connect you with Italian artisans to create a custom piece. If you can submit your order and requirements this week, it will be completed and delivered the week after next."

"..."

Dior paused for a moment.

He seemed to be considering the suggestion, but ultimately shook his head.

"no need."

He coldly refused and then twisted the accelerator.

The Harley-Davidson roared to life, its tires screeching briefly as they rubbed against the ground.

"boom!"

The black motorcycle shot out like an arrow released from a bow!
They quickly blended into the cold night and traffic of Gotham.

Only Roccoman and the others remained standing there, gazing in the direction he had disappeared.

(End of this chapter)