American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 152 Tai Chi gives rise to Yin and Yang, the origin of the twin dragons.

"Shen Du, it's Daddy!"

The instant Locke's figure appeared.

The moment Locke appeared, all of Salafir's unease and grievances were instantly replaced by a tremendous sense of security.

He almost lunged at it—

Yet, under her father's calm yet powerful aura, she subconsciously sat up straight.

“Actually, we could have handled it even if Father hadn’t come.” Shen Du’s tone was still arrogant and smug, showing no sign of who had just shaken the crowd. “Brother, look at Father’s aura. Learn from him.”

"Of course," Salafir said matter-of-factly, "Dad's the best!"

Is that so?
We'll temporarily withdraw Seven Wolves today.

Locke exchanged a glance with Saraphir, who was holding a glass of milk, and chuckled softly.

His gaze then shifted to the disheveled blond man in front of him, who looked like a homeless person:
"This gentleman."

"I'm right here now."

"You can begin to explain in detail now."

Constantine: "!!!"

He remained bent over, frozen in place as if struck by lightning.

His mouth was still open, but he couldn't utter a single word; only his throat moved with difficulty.

This feeling of oppression...

Energy fluctuations that almost solidified into reality...

That's even more terrifying than being chased by a whole bunch of Hell Dukes!

When facing a demon, he at least understood the rules, knowing how to deceive, how to escape, and how to maneuver.
But the parent who suddenly appeared before him made him feel as if he were standing naked in the middle of a thunderstorm, with nowhere to hide.

What if the other person was just in a bad mood and casually sent him away with a bolt of lightning...?

Now infamous
There's really nowhere to reason with them!

"puff"

I couldn't help but laugh out loud, and then I saw the gorilla frantically giving Jim meaningful glances from the corner of its eye:
Constantine, that bastard, has really stirred up a hornet's nest this time—no, he's stirred up a thunderstorm!
Jim, write this down, it's worth a free drink!

The latter responded with a very subtle head shake, indicating:
How the hell am I supposed to understand that look from a gorilla?!
"."

Unlike his two old buddies, who could hardly hide their schadenfreude, Mr. Scumbag himself smiled with extreme reluctance.

He thought for a moment, then almost mechanically took out a cigarette and offered it to Locke.

"Sir...would you like one?"

But as soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to slap himself—what kind of nonsense was that!

Locke glanced indifferently at the cigarette Constantine offered, but did not reach out to take it.

After all, if you look closely
You'll then discover the strange completeness of this smoke.

You're a wrinkled homeless man, yet you have a perfectly intact cigarette on you.

Who are they trying to fool?

"Thank you, I don't smoke."

His tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable distance.

This left Constantine in an awkward position, unable to move forward or backward, with cold sweat beading on his forehead.

He has tricked countless powerful beings in his life, but this is the first time he has faced a 'parent'.

It didn't say that in the magical world, if you beat the younger one, you have to resort to the older one.
There are so many demons in hell, yet none of them are crying out for revenge against me!

That's good.

Constantine's arm froze in mid-air, making the gesture of offering the cigarette seem incredibly awkward.

In the end, he could only awkwardly withdraw his hand, feeling as if the cigarette had been pulled out of purgatory.

In the end, I had to toughen up my brain and make it spin like crazy at an unprecedented speed.

—Concocting countless excuses and lies to escape.
Even various schemes to shirk responsibility flashed by like a revolving lantern.

"."

During Constantine's brainstorming session.

Locke's gaze also passed over him and landed behind Salafir.

But all that could be seen where Zatanna had been sitting was a wisp of pale purple magical smoke that was rapidly dissipating.

Where is the magician?

Locke's brow twitched almost imperceptibly.

Where did that drunk magician go? Why did he suddenly leave?

Doesn't she want to see me? I haven't done anything to her lately, have I?

"Whoo~"

Taking advantage of the half-second that Locke seemed to be thinking as he looked away, Constantine greedily took a half-breath.

Jim, behind the bar, turned his head slightly and let out a sound that was like a sigh of relief or a soft hum.

Bobo cleverly picked up a rag that he had somehow produced and began vigorously wiping the gleaming countertop, trying to minimize his presence.

However, both of them stared intently behind them, their shoulders trembling, with only one thought in their minds.

This plague god has finally met his match.

This is fucking a cause for celebration!
They almost couldn't help but hum softly.

"Ahem... sir."

Constantine broke the silence:

"I think you may not have seen the whole process clearly... Actually, there was a small misunderstanding in the middle."

“I…I was just looking after the child alone…uh…with a magician who was obviously…uh…in poor condition.”

He carefully chose his words to avoid further angering the other person, "You tell me, isn't this very unsafe? What if we run into human traffickers or something? We'd be completely finished! I'm just trying to be helpful, it's just my job, please understand..."

"right?"

"Think about it."

The more he talked, the more he deviated from the proper procedure. "I just asked a couple more questions, and my tone might have been a bit rushed."

"But there was absolutely no ill intent! Believe me, I swear to the last clean pound in my pocket!"

"As for that little accident just now?"

He pointed to his still-aching lips and his ruined trench coat:

"It must be my lack of skill, a magic trick gone wrong! Yes, absolutely a mistake! It has absolutely nothing to do with this young gentleman! I, Constantine, have been around for so many years, I have that much responsibility!"

He spoke with a pained expression, as if he were truly reflecting deeply on his magic trick mistake.

They never mentioned magical fluctuations or parental indulgence again.

But the unspoken meaning was still conveyed:

We're on different paths, each going our own way.

I don't care about your bratty kid, and you shouldn't keep targeting me, you scumbag.

Listen quietly to his flawed and futile explanation.

seriously.
Locke could see right through the blatant deception in Constantine's words.

"You're a really nice person, sir."

Locke's icy expression seemed to soften slightly. He shrugged and said in a flat tone, "Since you didn't do it on purpose, let's leave it at that."

For a father, it is already very important that the other party admits their mistake and says they will no longer bother his child.

After all, this person's name is—

John Constantine.

"Of course!"

Mr. Scumbag immediately put on a fake smile and secretly breathed a sigh of relief. "Old buddy! Give me and this gentleman two strong... uh, just regular ones will do, put it on my tab."

“…I’ll be thankful as long as you don’t cause trouble, Constantine.” Jim grumbled irritably, but still poured two glasses of wine and pushed them over deftly. “Sir, this one is on me.”

He nodded to Locke.

"my pleasure."

Locke took the glass and walked to the bar.

The towering figure loomed over them, bringing not the previous sense of oppression, but a reassuring calm.

He reached out and gently ruffled Salafir's soft hair.

"You ran really far today, Salafir."

"hey-hey."

Salafir looked up, trying to fool everyone.

But when he met his father's smiling eyes, he still confessed in a low voice, "Actually... it wasn't Shen or me who started the trouble..."

"Of course I know."

Locke's voice softened. "Drink the milk."

"..."

What an incredibly heartwarming father-son relationship...

Why are other people's parents so reliable? But his own father is a complete scoundrel.

Constantine pursed his lips, a strange pang of bitterness rising in his heart.

He picked up the glass of strong liquor on the table, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.

Perhaps all the warmth in this world is destined to be irrelevant to him.

after all……

Ever since he indirectly caused that old bastard's death, he himself has become one of the worst scumbags in the world.

He gave a self-deprecating smirk, slammed the empty glass down on the bar, and turned to slip away.

However, just as he took that first step—

"Om-"

An unnatural distortion emanated from the space on the other side of the bar once again.

This fluctuation was completely different from the thunderous roar when Locke appeared or the eerie ripples when Constantine entered.

It's more like a piece of black silk being silently crumpled and folded.

The light bent and vanished there, and then a figure stepped out from it.

His impeccably tailored black suit was impeccable, and the matching top hat cast a shadow that covered most of his face, revealing only his sharp jawline.

An inhuman stillness permeated the air around him.

Like an exquisite yet cold mannequin in a shop window.

He stood silently in place, as if he had been there all along, only to be suddenly realized by everyone at this moment.

Phantom Stranger...

"Ghost stranger?"

A suppressed gasp of astonishment rang out.

Pale purple smoke swirled and dissipated, and Zatanna, who had quietly left not long ago, reappeared.

At this moment, she was elegant and her eyes were clear; she had even touched up her makeup.

There was no trace of the drunken woman who had been slamming her fist on the table and cursing "scum" just minutes before.

perhaps
Are effective hangover remedies and makeup touch-ups essential skills for magicians?
But at this moment, neither Jim nor Bobo had time to complain about Zatanna's recovery speed.

Jim's heavy helmet turned slightly toward the newly appeared Phantom Stranger, his gaze filled with surprise and solemnity.

This man is one of the most mysterious and unpredictable guests at the Forgotten Bar.

He rarely appears...

Each appearance signifies that some extraordinary event is taking place.

Jim's gaze instinctively shifted to Locke and Sarafiel; his intuition told him that it was definitely related to these two new customers.

really--

Before anyone could even ask a question, the Phantom Stranger bypassed everyone and his gaze landed precisely on Locke…

Or rather, it was Salafir, who was holding a glass of milk behind him.

He gazed at the boy silently for a moment, then nodded almost imperceptibly, as if confirming something.

Then, he made a move that surprised everyone—

He raised a white-gloved hand and, seemingly casually, pressed it down on Constantine, who was trying to slip away but froze again at his appearance.
"Hey! Wait! It's not my fault! I was wrong last time! I'm leaving now...!"

Constantine's protests came to an abrupt halt!

"call out--!"

His figure blurred instantly, accompanied by a short gasp.

He was violently thrown out of the Forgotten Bar by an irresistible force!

Locke raised an eyebrow slightly, somewhat surprised by the Phantom Stranger's swift and even somewhat brutal methods, but he was more concerned about the other party's current intentions.

"Long time no see." He greeted him in his usual tone, and then expressed his gratitude, "The gift you gave us before was a great help."

"Gift?"

Zatanna blinked and looked at Locke curiously. "Mr. Locke, do you know him?"

“Yes, that was shortly after I found Salafil,” Locke said with a hint of nostalgia. “This gentleman probably knew that our Kent family was struggling financially at the time, so he emptied the entire Smallville and kindly gave us the paper…”

"Whoosh—" As if it were just a blink of an eye, the Phantom Stranger's figure teleported to Locke's front without warning, like a ghost.

The distance was extremely close, almost exceeding the safety limits that ordinary people should have.

A cold and silent aura swept over me.

Then, under the utterly shocked gazes of Zatanna, Jim, Popo, and the others—

This phantom stranger, who had almost never spoken a word in front of anyone, actually spoke!

His voice was deep and flat, as if it came from an extremely distant place:

“Mr. Kent, we…”

“…Let’s talk somewhere else.”

"?!"

Almost the instant the words were spoken, Locke was given no chance to refuse.

The Phantom Stranger's white-gloved hand twitched slightly again.

The next instant
The space around the two of them distorted violently once again!

Followed by.

The two of them vanished without a trace right before everyone's eyes!

All that remained were the empty bar counter, a bewildered Salafir holding a glass of milk, a dumbfounded Zatanna, and the armored bartender and the gorilla detective exchanging bewildered glances.
-
farm.

But it doesn't quite resemble a farm.

after all……

Whose farm would float on the surface of the sun?!
The blazing solar prominences surged like giant waves, and the golden-red flames surged silently, illuminating the entire space in a magnificent yet eerie way.

“I’m sorry… Mr. Kent.”

The Phantom Stranger's figure flickered slightly before Locke, like an image with a poor signal, before slowly solidifying after a while. His tone carried a barely perceptible hint of apology:

“This is an environment I simulated based on your surface-level impression of a ‘farm’.”

"...So why is it on the sun?"

Locke looked around, his tone relatively calm.

"Because I cannot read your deeper consciousness."

His answer was as direct as ever.

"."

“Alright, then how should I address you?” Locke readily changed the subject.

"Stranger, perhaps?"

"How about I call you 'Judas'?"

"?"

"."

“Mr. Kent, you seem to know a lot.”

The Phantom Stranger's voice remained steady, but with a hint of subtle helplessness.

The shadows under the brim of the hat were even deeper.

"right?"

Locke smiled, his tone carrying a subtle hint of teasing.

"."

Shaking his head helplessly, a crack appeared in the ever-present cold expression of the Phantom Stranger.

He didn't expect the other party to be so vengeful, revealing one of his biggest secrets the moment they met.

“Mr. Kent, this is just a simulation based on the phenomenon; I did not read your inner thoughts.”

He carefully chose his words:

"So please... don't casually reveal my... um... 'privacy'."

"Otherwise, if certain 'beings' find out, I'll be in a very difficult situation. The path of atonement... has already been very arduous."

Locke blinked, suddenly realizing that this mysterious stranger wasn't as taciturn as he appeared; rather, he seemed bound by countless layers of rules…

Feeling frustrated?

"The more you talk, the more mistakes you make."

The Phantom Stranger added softly, as if explaining, or perhaps warning himself, “My every word and action is being closely watched by people… or rather, by the ‘rules.’ Please forgive me.”

Then, a rare smile appeared on his usually stern face:
"So, sometimes it's not that I don't want to talk, but that I really can't talk too much."

"Is it limited to thirty sentences?"

“Mr. Kent.” The smile vanished instantly, and the Phantom Stranger raised his hand almost helplessly, pulling his hat brim down a little further. “Please, please… never mention this title or number to anyone outside.”

Locke smiled, neither confirming nor denying.

Seeing that Locke seemed to have stopped probing, the Phantom Stranger quickly returned to his calm and collected state and cut straight to the point:

"I am here today to talk to you about your two youngest sons."

"The two of them are not simply twins or have split personalities."

As he spoke, he waved his hand gently, and the surrounding void seemed to transform into a giant projection screen, with blurry yet magnificent scenes rapidly unfolding.

Stars are born and then vanish; dimensions are created and then burst like bubbles.

"They are closer to the embodiment of the two fundamental forces that must check and balance each other and depend on each other in the rules governing the universe."

Locke's expression darkened upon hearing this, and he slowly uttered a conjecture stemming from his memories of a past life:

"You mean... black and white?"

He never expected that his vague guess would be almost confirmed in this way.

"White and black?"

The Phantom Stranger was slightly taken aback.

It seems unexpected that Locke would use such a morally charged term to define it.

He pondered for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

“Mr. Locke, the terms ‘white’ and ‘black’… may not be entirely applicable. Neither of them should be simply labeled with worldly moral tags.”

As he spoke, he tapped his finger lightly.

This causes two intertwined and chasing streams of light to separate from the cosmic landscape.

A bright, warm light, brimming with boundless vitality and creative power.

A deep, dark abyss, surging with endless power of decomposition and nothingness.

"Look."

The Phantom Stranger's gestures changed again, and the starry sea scene evolved accordingly.

Seven distinct yet harmoniously resonant pillars of energy emerged.

They intertwine to form an invisible giant web, constituting the framework that supports the existence of the entire universe.

"The universe we live in is founded on seven constructive forces that symbolize 'creation,' 'order,' 'life,' and 'existence.'"

But where there is light, there is also shadow.

As soon as he finished speaking, the scene suddenly flipped.

Seven other dark energies, appearing more primal, wild, destructive, and nihilistic, emerged.

It stands in stark contrast to the seven great forces of light, like two sides of a mirror.

"There must also exist seven destructive forces in the universe that are completely equivalent to these, representing 'destruction,' 'chaos,' 'entropy,' and 'void.'"

"but."

"Whether it's construction or deconstruction."

The Phantom Stranger's finger pointed to the indescribable singularity where all energies first converged and were born.

"Their common, unique place of origin can only be—the source."

Locke frowned slightly, grasping the key point: "You mean, Salafir and the capital..."

"Yes…"

"The Phantom Stranger affirmed, his tone unusually solemn."

He waved.

That singularity, symbolizing the 'source', suddenly erupted!

The light and shadow violently diverged, eventually coalescing into two blurry yet closely intertwined images of light.

"Since you..."

“After I ‘accepted’ Salafir from some unknown place, I realized that an extremely strange existence had been born in the universe.”

“He is not an ordinary being, but rather… directly differentiated from the ‘Source,’ which can be said to be the most primordial ‘contradiction’ itself.”

"And then, just as I observed."

The image shifts again, showing a young Salafir using her powers to heal an injured bird, radiating warm energy.

“When he was three years old, when Salafir chose to use his power to heal the injured bird, he unconsciously gravitated toward the pole of constructive power.”

The Phantom Stranger's voice was as calm and deep as still water, and the surrounding starry sky flickered in response to his words.

"And as a form of balance, the 'Divine Capital' came into being, becoming the embodiment of deconstructive power."

"If we interpret it using Eastern philosophy, which you may be familiar with..."

This can be understood as 'The Tao gives birth to One, One gives birth to Two.' Or more precisely...

"—The Taiji gives rise to the Yin and Yang."

"."

"Of course, we can be more precise."

He raised his hand, and radiance flowed in the void, with the two forces of construction and deconstruction swirling and chasing each other like yin and yang fish.

"It is precisely because one side unconsciously or instinctively leans towards the 'creation' side that the other side inevitably has to take on the 'destruction' side in order to maintain the overall balance."

"Let all things feel the value of 'creation' through comparison."

"The reverse is also true. If Salafir had chosen to deconstruct, then the divine capital would have become the one constructing, making all beings experience the reality of 'destruction'."

“They are not inherently good or evil, and they transcend worldly right and wrong.”

"In this sense, light and shadow never represent absolute good or evil."

Upon hearing this, Locke's expression gradually became serious, and he slowly nodded.

It turns out to be a chicken-or-egg problem.

Which came first, darkness or light?

He got it.

I almost fell into the trap of preconceived notions and simply categorized the two children into a binary framework of 'good' and 'evil'.

However, at least one of his guesses was correct.
After these two little ones came into this world, their essential status was not weakened.

Instead, due to its leap in global status, it has become even more unfathomable than before.

As expected of his son.

only……

"Then those two..."

A hint of worry crept into Locke's voice, "Will they continue to be mutually reinforcing and fighting each other like this forever?"

"..."

The Phantom Stranger shook his head lightly but decisively.

"Nobody knows."

"The fate of all universes is like a rushing river, which cannot be reversed, but will pass through countless forks."

"They may maintain this dynamic balance forever, or at some point in the future, due to some opportunity, they may re-integrate and return to the original 'source'."

"."

"Then what do you want me to do?" Locke asked bluntly.

"Please be sure to guide them responsibly."

"Their strength will certainly play a decisive role in a future major battle!"

The Phantom Stranger's tone was more solemn than ever before, causing even the twinkling stars around him to pause.

"Even if... even if you don't want them to fight, please at least... ensure that they don't cause unpredictable... harm to this universe because of their special nature."

"Your role is crucial."

Hearing this, Locke felt a strange sense of relief, and a familiar smile, radiating powerful confidence, appeared on his lips.
"Teaching children? That's no problem for me at all. Don't worry."

"..."

Really.?

Thinking back on his own actions in showing himself, aside from Salafir and the capital, it was largely because...
One was only fifteen years old
A young man who could command the winds and rains in Gotham, a man of unpredictable and chaotic nature.
Beneath the cold, aloof face of the Phantom Stranger, a complex emotion silently flowed through the depths of his consciousness.

He decided…

Let's remain silent about that 'Dior' for now.

What if the other party holds a grudge like his father?
PS:

Haha, I'm not crazy.

(End of this chapter)