American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 156 Transforming Stillness into Movement

Let's turn back time a little.

The Gotham City Museum casts a cold shadow on the ground.

Clark Kent arrived first.

He also carefully parked his Harley-Davidson motorcycle, which looked out of place with its surroundings, in an inconspicuous corner two streets away.

He rubbed his hands together, letting his breath form a small puff of white mist in the cool, damp air of Gotham.

Then, feigning a keen interest in the carvings on the stone pillars at the entrance, he carefully traced the deep, cold lines on the stone with his fingers, while in reality, he was mentally rehearsing the 'script' he had prepared throughout the journey:

"Uncle, what a coincidence! After I finished buying the materials, I heard there was a medieval farm tool exhibition here, so I just stopped by to take a look... Yes, that's it, it's very natural, not at all deliberate..."

But just as he was engrossed in rehearsing his script...

The sound of an engine grew louder as it approached, eventually stopping a short distance away.

Clark subconsciously looked up, his heart skipping a beat.

All I could see was the end of the street.

First, two sleek, all-black sedans silently slid to a stop on the side of the road.

The car door opens.

Five or six men dressed in well-tailored black overcoats came down.

Their movements were coordinated and efficient, quickly clearing a small, invisible area in the street.

then
That's the real focus.

A deafening roar, utterly out of place with its surroundings, approached from afar.

In this man-made cleared space, a gleaming silver motorcycle stood motionless in the center.

A dazzling gold color quickly became the focus of attention in the crowd.

Then a man in black quickly stepped forward and pulled out a huge, pure black umbrella from somewhere.

"Shh-!"

The umbrella was opened.

It wasn't meant to shield from the rain; rather, it served as a mobile canopy.

It was precisely positioned above the rider, isolating him from the pervasive gloom of Gotham.

"Crack——!"

Lower the support frame.

The motorcyclist calmly stepped off the motorcycle, taking off his gloves with leisurely ease.

He made everything around him, somber and waiting, seem like a natural backdrop.

Then, surrounded by them, they walked unhurriedly towards the museum, their casual gaze sweeping over the museum's grand entrance hall until—

The image freezes on the figure who is touching a stone pillar, a burly man who appears incredibly cramped.

The man frowned slightly, but did not stop walking.

Instead, he broke away from the guards' small formation and walked a few steps to Clark.

The umbrella followed closely behind, completely separating him from Clark and the entire Gotham City into two separate worlds.

He spoke again, his tone undisguisedly questioning:
"Where's the car?"

Startled by his brother's abrupt question, Clark instinctively answered honestly:

"It's parked in a small alley two streets away."

He felt that the place was relatively inconspicuous and safe.

"you…"

Dio opened his mouth, but no words came out.

It was more like they were amused by this foolish caution.

He then glanced at the man named Roccoman who was holding an umbrella for him beside him and ordered, "Roccoman, take some men to that alley and push the car over... never mind."

He seemed to have changed his mind again, appearing extremely impatient:

"Just take it to my club, don't leave it here in the way."

"If it's already been taken away by some fool, you know what to do."

"Yes, Mr. Dior."

Rocman nodded without hesitation and turned to assign people to carry out the order.

but.
"and many more!"

Clark seemed to recognize the man and grabbed Rocman.

"?"

That's some real strength.
Roccoman, who was being pulled, stiffened abruptly and turned his head in confusion.

A barely perceptible hint of wariness flickered in his eyes.

“Sir.” Clark looked at him very sincerely, and then blurted out, “I’m sorry, I accidentally knocked you out last time.”

"."

(*д)?
(d)
Roccoman.
sweaty
"You...you knocked me out last time?"

Those five words instantly crashed his mind.

His professional indifference shattered, and his pupils dilated slightly.

He swallowed hard, and almost instinctively managed to squeeze out a response:
"No...it's alright, sir. It's my fault...I wasn't careful enough."

No, no, no, it is.

"Clark."

Interrupting his brother, Dio's voice turned cold, filled with obvious displeasure:
"Does making things difficult for these insignificant people give you some strange sense of superiority?"

"Huh? No! That's not what I meant!" Clark realized he might have said something wrong. He quickly let go and hurriedly explained, "I just wanted to apologize and tell him that the Harley is a bit heavy and might need two people to push it. I was worried they'd get tired..."

Dio rolled his eyes at him speechlessly, too lazy to argue further about this nonsensical conversation, and waved to Rocman:
"Do as I say. You reacted quite quickly today."

Rocman, relieved, nodded immediately, but professional habit compelled him to ask another question: "Sir, I understand. But since it was Falcone who loosened the agreement first, our meeting tonight..."

"We'll talk about it tonight."

Dior interrupted him, his tone somewhat displeased.

"Yes."

Rocman said no more and quickly turned and left with the other men in black.

The direction was the alley where Clark parked his car.

Watching them walk away, Clark belatedly reached into his pocket for his keys.

Well.
Should I give them the keys?

And on the side.
Looking at Clark, who was standing by the pillar like a lost large dog.

Finally, Dior broke the silence first, his voice filled with undisguised sarcasm:
"Brother. The 'materials' you're referring to, you wouldn't happen to mean these stones that have been weathered for hundreds of years, would you? Your taste is really... as primitive as ever."

"."

Clark's face flushed slightly. He stood up awkwardly, his eyes darting around, trying to come up with the lines he had rehearsed on the way:
"Dior! What a coincidence...you're here too...studying stone carvings?"

He tried to retaliate, but his tone sounded more like he was humbly seeking advice.

What is this guy talking about?
Dio felt like he'd punched a pillow, but he still chuckled and crossed his arms. He leaned gracefully against the stone pillar next to Clark, deliberately creating a distance to draw a line.

"What's so clever about it? Didn't you already think of that?"

"But I still want to say, I'm here."

He paused, then added in a condescending tone:

"It has absolutely nothing to do with why you're here. Understand?"

What is he talking about?
Are we communicating with deities?

Clark was a little stunned by this barrage of sarcastic remarks, but he still subconsciously murmured a response in response to Dio:
"Oh... I see."

He blinked his clear blue eyes, as if he had suddenly thought of a very reasonable possibility, and blurted out:

"So you're still worried about Uncle Locke bringing Salafir and God to Gotham, right? I knew it!"

Dior's expression froze, and his arm tightened almost imperceptibly.

All the scathing sarcasm he had prepared.

Everything was stuck in my throat by this straightforward and simple truth.

This is a single-celled organism!
Who wouldn't trust me?

Who would go to such a filthy place just for a kid and Old Deng?!
He opened his mouth, but found that he couldn't find any words that could perfectly retort without seeming like he was trying to cover up his mistake.

Damn it
It's already beneath me that my carefully prepared appearance was seen by such a large stray dog; it's beneath my dignity enough.
“It’s alright, Dio.” Seeing Dio suddenly speechless, Clark gave him a kind, understanding smile, even adding a touch of comfort: “Actually, I also…”

"Shut up."

Dio glared at Clark, then took two steps to the side as if to sever all ties.

Clark was left standing there, scratching his head in confusion, not understanding what he had said wrong again.

The two of them fell into an eerie stillness.

One on the left, one on the right; one robust, one slender.

One studies stones, the other plays the role of a sculptor; between them lies a dividing line called "I don't know him."

But they all tacitly glanced at the street corner out of the corner of their eyes.

Waiting for that familiar farm pickup truck to appear.

So, a few minutes later, what Locke saw was a scene so obviously fabricated that it made him want to facepalm.

The old father paused, feeling a throbbing sensation between his eyebrows.

But she still led the two younger children forward, her voice filled with deep helplessness:

"you two……"

His gaze darted back and forth between Clark and Dio. "...What's going on? Clark, didn't you promise to help Jonathan fix the roof of the Kent barn? Dio, I remember you said you were going to sleep all day today?"

The two people who were named froze simultaneously.

Clark looked up, revealing an extremely naive yet clearly guilty smirk, and scratched the back of his head:

“Ah, that… barn, um, it was repaired really fast. I just…” He had completely forgotten the script he had just rehearsed, so he could only rack his brains to make up a reason, his eyes drifting towards the museum’s towering spire, “I just suddenly wanted to come to Gotham to see. How are the people in this city… uh… doing lately? I wanted to learn about the local customs and culture.”

Locke raised an eyebrow.

His reasoning sounds like...
It wasn't entirely outrageous, considering he fought the fiercest in that previous battle and had developed some attachment to the city.
It seems to make sense.

Just as Locke was almost persuaded by this simple act of care—

Dior let out a clear, cold snort.

He lowered his arms, straightened up, and his eyes were full of arrogance:

"Hmph, don't misunderstand, Father. I just happened to be passing by and wanted to keep an eye on things."

His sharp gaze swept over Salafir, who was watching them curiously, and Shen Du, who looked like he had expected this:

"To prevent some naive and ignorant brat and some troublemaker who can't control his power from causing any embarrassing trouble in this... chaotic and tasteless place."

He paused, then added in a condescending tone:

"I don't want to waste time cleaning up a mess later. Please don't overthink it."

"."

Locke took a deep breath of Gotham's damp, cold air and finally shook his head helplessly.

Too lazy to expose their flawed performance, he simply led his two children and walked expressionlessly past the two filial sons who "happened" to appear at the museum entrance, heading straight for the museum's ticket gate.

"Since it's all such a coincidence."

Locke's voice was devoid of emotion. "Then let's go in together. Perfect timing, Salafir's report needs materials from multiple angles. More people, more inspiration."

Clark: "..."

Dio: “…”

The two glanced at each other instinctively, but quickly looked away in disgust.

Without saying a word, he followed Locke straight toward the gate.
-
Buy a ticket to enter the museum.

Locke, however, only felt a sense of desolation.

The magnificent domed hall, which should have been bustling with tourists, was so empty that the sound of their footsteps echoed clearly on the smooth marble floor.

Apart from their group, there were hardly any other tourists in sight.

Even the staff in uniforms were few and far between, occasionally flashing by in the distance at the entrance of the corridor.

"Huh? Why is there no one here?"

Clark looked around curiously, his eyes quickly scanning the exhibition hall to confirm that this was not an illusion:

"Do the people of Gotham dislike history?"

His voice sounded a bit loud in this environment, even creating a slight echo.

Salafir, however, paid no attention to the number of people; his attention was completely captivated by everything in front of him.

She even excitedly grabbed Locke's hand, pointing her little finger towards the ancient Egyptian exhibit on the side:
"Dad! Look! That golden coffin! It even has gemstone eyes on it!" He said, and tried to run over there.

Meanwhile, the giant Diplodocus skeleton fossil on the other side caught Clark's eye. He looked up and couldn't help but walk over quickly to examine the remains of this prehistoric behemoth from various angles.

"."

Seeing Clark looking at the dinosaur skeleton with an ignorant country bumpkin expression, Salafir stood on tiptoe, trying to touch a crystal skull that emitted a faint glow through the thick bulletproof glass case.

Dior curled his lip, a hint of disdain flashing in his eyes, and snorted coldly:
“Immature brother.”

“A childish older brother.”

"?"

Dio narrowed his eyes and glanced at Shen Du, who stood beside him with his arms crossed like a little adult.

Their eyes met suddenly in mid-air.

Ah... So there's still someone halfway to the sane in the family.

Dior's lips curled up slightly, forming a smile that was neither a smile nor a frown.

But he barely paid any attention to Shen Du, instead striding ahead with his long legs and a condescending air, quickly following Locke and Salafir, casually tossing out a light remark:

"Hurry up and catch up, you silly new little brother. No one will look for you if you get lost."

"."

The air around Shen Du distorted slightly due to his displeasure, and even uncontrollably released a few dangerous energy particles.

He resisted the urge to set that arrogant older brother's butt on fire with a small flame, only letting out a colder snort from his nose before reluctantly following behind.

But no one noticed.
The scattered points of light fell to the ground, creating ripples that were almost imperceptible, like water droplets falling into a lake.

Because at this very moment—

Salafir, who was running ahead, suddenly stopped abruptly, her little finger pointing at a glass case in the ancient Egyptian exhibit, which displayed a scarab sculpture inlaid with gems and gold.

He exclaimed in surprise, "Dad! That golden bug just moved! Its wings seemed to twitch!"

Clark, who was walking next to him, heard this.

Curious, I peered closer at the glass case, but the scarab sculpture remained quietly in place, showing no signs of distress.

He chuckled and ruffled Salafir's hair: "Are you seeing things, Salafir? It's just the light reflecting off the surface."

"No!"

Salafell muttered to himself, quite certain of his eyesight.

"true"

"Zizzi"

The lights on the towering dome began to flicker for no apparent reason, turning on and off intermittently.

A series of extremely painful 'clicking' sounds came from the air, as if something heavy was slowly moving its joints.

Dio glanced impatiently at the flickering lights, then at the massive Diplodocus skeleton fossil in the center of the hall, attributing it to: "Gotham's infrastructure is hopelessly bad. Even the museum's wiring is outdated? This kind of malfunction is really..."

Is this really the case?
Locke frowned slightly, his sense of vigilance rising.

This anomaly cannot be explained by a simple malfunction.

Nope.
Even when you're just out having fun with your family, you're bound to run into trouble.
This is Gotham City after all. My farm is still the best.

He sighed, and without hesitation, he spread his magical power throughout his body, allowing it to act like invisible, sensitive tentacles, quickly sensing the energy flow in his surroundings, trying to pinpoint the source of this strange phenomenon—

boom! ! !
But this is like throwing a lit match into a powder keg filled with gas!
As the magic spreads.
Centered on their family, the smooth, mirror-like marble floor beneath their feet suddenly burst forth with an incredibly dazzling light!
A massive magic circle covering the entire museum was instantly activated and revealed!
The next moment, the world spun around, and everything roared!
The walls emitted a tremendous roar.

It begins to move and rotate erratically, blocking the original passage!

A completely unfamiliar and eerie corridor has been created!
The ceiling was twisted and deformed, with huge stalagmites and vine-like metal decorations hanging down!

In just a few seconds, the magnificent and tranquil Gotham City Museum was completely engulfed in violent chaos, transforming into a constantly changing and perilous magical living maze!

"What...what's going on?!"

Clark stared in astonishment at the supernatural events before him, instinctively shielding Salafir and Locke behind him.

Blue eyes, filled with vigilance and confusion, scanned the rumbling, moving walls and flickering light.

"."

And the capital city.
Shen Du's face showed a hint of guilt.

Feeling the things in the air that originated from the same source as himself but were amplified wildly, and the resonant, restless magic within his body.

This feeling...

Why does this look so familiar?

"It seems today's museum tour..."

Locke's voice, heavy with emotion amidst the deafening noise, said, "It's far more 'brilliant' than we expected."

Tiny arcs of electricity began to jump around his body.

then…

He blinked, his serious expression turning into pure astonishment.

The anticipated repulsive and chaotic energy did not arrive.

On the contrary, his magic flowed smoothly into the energy cycle of this revitalized museum, like a stream flowing into the ocean.

The feedback wasn't malicious or aggressive, but rather a kind of... innocent elation?
It even carries a touch of clumsy yet pure intimacy?

It was as if the entire museum had come to life, its consciousness like that of a toddler who had just learned to walk, stumbling and staggering toward its parent.

what's the situation?
Locke was taken aback.

He tried moving his fingers, using that wisp of magic to issue an extremely small command—

such as
"Boom!"

Ahead of them stood a massive stone wall that had just collapsed, completely sealing off the passage.

It responded with a dull rumble!

The walls suddenly and smoothly retracted to both sides, revealing a huge exhibition hall that had not existed before!
Everyone was startled by this sudden change.

Then they all looked at Locke, their eyes filled with questions.

"."

He glanced at his four troublesome filial sons.

Locke shrugged, his face displaying just the right amount of innocence: "I don't know."

Why not just go with the flow and take the lead, confidently heading into that unknown exhibition hall?

His tone was so relaxed, as if he were truly there for a visit:

"It looks like we won't be able to find a regular exit anytime soon. Since it's opened a path for us, why don't we take this opportunity to look around? Maybe we can find the control center or some clues."

hear the words
The suspicion in Dior's eyes deepened instantly.

The blond boy crossed his arms and tapped his arms lightly with his fingertips.

wrong.

Based on his understanding of his father, when faced with such a troublesome situation that was clearly a magical trap, his father's first reaction would definitely be to break it by force.

He summoned that powerful Stand and punched through the obstructing wall.

Or it could simply transform into lightning, tearing apart the distorted ceiling to force its way through—efficient and in line with its consistent style.

How come they have the leisure to 'tour' like an old man? Could it be...?

A thought flashed through Dio's mind: This bizarre activation event was actually his father's doing.
He deliberately activated something in secret, causing all of this to happen...

Was it to test us? Or was there some deeper intention?
Thinking of this, Dio felt a sense of relief.

If the father is in control, then at least there is no danger to be in danger.

A silence immediately followed.

Really.
Does training people really have to be done in such a dramatic way?
Dio gave a soft hum and, without raising any objections, followed the others.
He paused slightly.

etc.
If that's the case, did Lex Luthor foresee everything all along?!

Dior gasped.

Lex is terrifyingly powerful; he must not be allowed to live.

"."

Looking warily at the self-spinning globes and the strange, buzzing daggers, Clark asked worriedly, "Uncle, what should we do now? How do we get out?"

How to do?
Locke sighed inwardly as he heard this familiar question.

Clark.
Where is your super intelligence?
Locke was getting tired; these silly boys were indecisive.

Why do I like to treat myself as an external brain?

What if I'm gone someday?
So he took the opportunity to try and implement the idea that had just flashed into his mind, throwing the problem back at him and patiently guiding him:
"Clark, what do you think we should do?"

"Use thermal imaging to create an opening directly in the ceiling."

"."

Ignoring Clark's seemingly foolish words, Locke looked at Salafir and the God of War:
"The situation is complicated and we lack information. How about we split up and explore? That would be more efficient and we could find more clues."

"?"

Dior raised an eyebrow as if he had expected this.

Clark and Shen Du both looked at Locke in shock.

Salafir's face fell, she gasped, and clung tightly to Locke's leg:

"Who are you! Give me back my real father! My father would never say something like this, which is guaranteed to set off a death trap, in a scene straight out of a horror movie!"

"?"

Locke was so angry he laughed, and gave the little guy a light tap on the head.

"You brat, what nonsense are you spouting!"

"Okay... it's Dad."

Salafir rubbed her head in grievance, but still stuck to her principles, chattering away as she retorted:

"But Dad, don't you always criticize the main characters in horror movies when you watch them with us? 'When they encounter monsters, they split up and go their separate ways, are they afraid they won't die fast enough?' 'Did the screenwriter get kicked in the head by a cow?'...You're the one who said all of that!"

Locke: “…”

He was speechless for a moment.

well.

The usual nagging and criticism during home theater time was too successful, but at a crucial moment, the son silenced him with a famous quote, and now he's getting his comeuppance.

Just as Locke was pondering whether to force an explanation or admit that he had been momentarily confused.

Dior seemed to have fully 'grasped' his father's 'profound meaning'.

He took the initiative to speak up and helped Locke get away with it:

“Foolish brother. Father’s intention was, of course, to cultivate our ability to stand on our own.”

"Do you think Father doesn't know all this? Do you think he'll really put us in danger? Use your brain."

Although Dior completely misunderstood the direction, it seemed like he had stumbled upon the right thing at the right time.

Locke, maintaining his enigmatic silence, nodded.

Seeing this, Dior snorted and casually chose the direction of an archway that was covered by living vines.

He put his hands in his pockets and walked inside without looking back.

"I'm choosing this side. Don't hold us back, guys."

"."

Seeing this, the other three looked at Locke again.

His eyes revealed:
Do you really want him to go and get himself killed?

Locke simply smiled and pointed to a spiral corridor filled with gear sculptures that had just appeared silently behind them.

The three of them instinctively turned to look at the newly appeared passage.

However.
It happened in the instant they turned around!

The surrounding scenery changed rapidly, like flowing water!
Light is distorted, space is folded!
Clark was the first to realize something was wrong, and he turned around abruptly!
But it's too late.

He found himself standing alone in a completely unfamiliar hallway!
The three people who had been standing next to him had vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed.

The same thing happened to Salafir and the Divine Capital.

—The three of them were quietly separated by the museum in an instant!
Only one sentence, carrying a smile, came from a place that was both very far and very near.

Like a gentle breeze, it lingered in each of their ears:

"Explore well, children...use your own eyes to see, and your own wisdom to judge."

"There will be a reward if you solve the maze and find the central control point."

The voice deliberately dragged out the melody, leaving behind a suspenseful question that left the listener wondering.

"...Of course, if it fails..."

"...There will also be unexpected 'surprises' waiting for you."

(End of this chapter)