American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 196 You might not believe it, but this is the Platinum Star.

Filled with doubts and a touch of nervousness, the two followed Locke's steady figure back to the familiar farmhouse living room.

The afternoon sun shone through the clean windowpanes, casting warm and bright spots of light on the dark wooden floor. Fine dust particles floated in the air, dancing silently in the beams of light.

The fireplace was cold, the rocking chair was silent, and everything looked exactly the same as when they left.

However.
Locke did not linger in the center of the living room, but went straight to the seemingly unremarkable wall above the fireplace.

There, unnoticed cat relief has been quietly embedded, almost blending into the old wooden wall.

He stretched out his finger and precisely pressed it onto the glass bead representing the left eye of the embossed cat.

"Click."

A very slight mechanical click.

The next moment, reflected in the suddenly contracted pupils of Clark and Salafir.
The surrounding scenery rippled and distorted like the surface of water!
The familiar sofa, coffee table, and small objects scattered on the floor quickly blurred and disappeared.

The light suddenly dimmed, as if stepping from afternoon into dusk.

Instead, a radiance accumulated over countless years emanates from all directions.

Within the time it takes to breathe once or twice, the distortion of space abruptly ceased, and the scene reformed.

Clark and Salafell were astonished to find themselves in a completely different space.
A magnificent, towering circular exhibition hall.

Enormous stone pillars supported the endless darkness, and the surrounding walls were made of countless polished boulders. The air was filled with the faint, ancient scent of aged wood, mixed with some kind of peculiar fragrance that was hard to identify.

"This... this is..."

Salafell gasped and grabbed Clark's sleeve in surprise, as if only then could he confirm that he was not dreaming.

“It was when we last went to Gotham.” Clark was also taken aback, his blue eyes filled with disbelief: “That museum within a museum?!”

That's right!

This is clearly the interior of that mysterious museum they stumbled into during their recent trip to Gotham, where they experienced a series of bizarre trials!

These familiar runes and the unique sense of spatial distortion—you can't be wrong!
But shouldn't we be in Gotham? How could this be... Uncle just pressed the cat relief at home, and they instantly crossed such a vast distance?!
Before they could even recover from the shock of the spatial shift, Locke had already started walking. He seemed extremely familiar with the layout, leading the two through the empty main exhibition hall and onto a relatively narrow, arched corridor on the side.

The doors on both sides of the corridor are made of an unknown metal, etched with stars, dragons and snakes, or incomprehensible geometric patterns. Some doors are slightly ajar, but one can vaguely feel the energy fluctuations emanating from them, which are either icy cold, scorching hot, or unsettling.

Locke stopped in front of one of the dark wooden doors, which looked the most plain and unadorned.

He didn't knock; he simply reached out and casually pushed the door open.

The light shining through the door contrasted sharply with the dimness of the corridor; it was a warm, orange light, like that of a farmhouse living room.

The two followed Locke into the room, but the sight before them left them stunned.

This appears to be a study, or more accurately, a comfortable personal lounge.

Against the wall stood a massive, floor-to-ceiling wooden bookshelf, far larger than the small bookcase in the farmhouse, densely packed with ancient books of various materials and thicknesses.

In the center of the room was a thick, soft, dark carpet, with several high-backed armchairs that looked extremely comfortable and a low wooden table with tea sets on it.

The most eye-catching figure was the tall man sitting in a large armchair with his back to them.

The person was dressed in linen-colored loungewear that seemed completely out of place in the atmosphere of this ancient treasure vault.

He held a steaming white porcelain teacup in one hand and casually rested the other hand on the armrest.

Right in front of him was a large LCD TV.
The screen is playing footage that appears to be... a documentary?

A calm, soothing voice came from inside, sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet, ancient room:

"...Spring is here, flowers are blooming, all things are coming back to life, and it's the breeding season for animals again..."

The familiar voiceover and modern appliances create a striking contrast with the old room.

Seemingly hearing the noise at the door, the figure slowly shifted their gaze from the television screen, picked up their teacup, and turned their head.

Clark and Salafir's hearts nearly stopped beating for a moment.

That face that turned around...

They were exactly the same as Locke who brought them in.

However, on Locke's face...
They carried a pure sense of relaxation and languor that they hadn't seen in a long time.

As for Locke, who led them in, he stood silently by the door, his expression indifferent, as if the scene before him was perfectly normal.

Salafir opened his mouth, but felt his voice stuck in his throat, only able to utter a breathy sound:
"...Dad...Dad?"

Seeing the two dumbfounded children, Locke's gentle expression turned into a helpless look as if he had been caught red-handed.

“Really”

Scratching his slightly messy black curly hair, Locke smiled helplessly, "You two little detectives still managed to find out."

Then he opened his arms and naturally caught Salafir, who was rushing towards him with cheers.

Clark remained frozen in place, staring at the surreal scene before him, struggling to find his voice, and pointed to the person in the doorway: "So... this person is..."

"Oh, him."

Locke, who was drinking tea, casually pointed with the hand holding his teacup, as if introducing a household appliance, "Is this what you call 'working mode'?"

He took a sip of tea and squinted his eyes contentedly.
"For example, training that kid Bruce, or going out into the fields to do some hard work for me."

"It's me, Uncle."

He patted the leather surface of the armchair, "It's also a rare opportunity to relax."

“In that case…” Clark tried to comprehend this astonishing fact, but then another thorny question came to mind, “Dio… does he know you’re here?”

"Haha." Locke chuckled dryly, his eyes darting around before finally settling on the bookshelf. His tone became somewhat ambiguous: "You... probably don't know?"

“Brother Dior is furious right now because Dante and Virgil seemed to have been causing trouble again last night. If he finds out that you used the excuse of going to the fields to actually watch ‘Animal World’ here, and left your younger brothers all to him to take care of…”

Salafir, who was being held in his arms, immediately looked up and delivered a precise finishing blow.

“Saraphiel.” Locke stiffened for a moment, then looked down at his youngest son in his arms, forcing a smile that could only be described as ‘kind,’ with an obvious hint of ingratiation: “…Saraphiel, my dear eldest son, you wouldn’t do this…right?”

"You wouldn't bear to see your dear father get tired of being nagged by your hot-tempered brother, would you?"

"Uh-huh."

Salafir nodded vigorously, grinning as she held up her first finger: "Daddy, I think that Nintendo DS they're talking about on TV looks pretty good."

"purchase!"

Locke's lips twitched, and without hesitation, he waved his hand.

"I also want to go to the town to eat the latest limited-edition sundae!"

The second finger stood up.

Eat up! Plenty to go!

Locke agreed even more readily.

“I want more…” Salafir pressed his advantage, his third finger itching to join in.

"Sarafil!"

Clark finally couldn't stand it anymore. He stepped forward, grabbed his brother by the back of the collar, and placed him on the carpet beside him, his tone tinged with helplessness, "Is this the point right now?"

He turned to Locke, whose expression had been relaxed, and his handsome face regained its seriousness, his brows furrowing slightly.

“Uncle, but I just saw you go to the fields, and you even asked me to wake Salafir. You didn’t go back to the living room at all, so how did you get into this space? Could it be…”

There's a third one on the farm.

"What are you thinking, Clark?"

Locke sighed helplessly, as if blaming his nephew for having too much of an imagination.

He put down his teacup, and the slight relaxation on his face was replaced by a somewhat complicated contemplation.

He didn't answer directly, but slowly raised his left hand and casually reached out towards the empty space beside him.

Something incredible happened!

Locke's arm seemed to disappear into the invisible water, and the scene of the museum space distorted and rippled slightly around his forearm.

Immediately afterwards, with an elegant flick of his wrist, the movement was so fluid as if he had practiced it a thousand times, that he slowly drew out a long sword with an ancient design and a profound aura from the ethereal ripples!

The scabbard is deep and simple, filled with a dark color that seems to absorb light, with a faint blue glow flowing within it.

The tsuba (handguard) has a unique shape, resembling a winged demon, possessing a touch of eerie beauty. Overall...
The moment this knife appeared, it seemed to lower the temperature of the surrounding air, spreading a chilling and powerful sense of oppression.

"Kids, let's get to know each other."

Locke calmly explained, gripping the hilt with his right hand and drawing the long, narrow blade from its sheath.

The blade is long and straight, gleaming with a chilling, bone-deep gleam.

It's so smooth that it reflects your image.

And along the edge of that incredibly sharp blade, a faint, ethereal blue light flickered, sometimes bright and sometimes dim.

"Shh-!"

Under the astonished gazes of Clark and Salafir, Locke didn't even get up from that comfortable armchair!

He simply and casually drew the blade out completely, then made a light, horizontal slash towards the space behind them!
There was no earth-shattering noise.

There was only a very faint tearing sound.

A narrow crack with sparkling starlight at its edges appeared out of thin air behind the two of them!

On the other side of the crack, there was a familiar scene they had just witnessed.

—Under the bright sunshine, on a vast wasteland, the dry wind blew through the cracks and onto their faces. Clark could even clearly see in the distance the lone tractor parked on the edge of the field!
"?!"

Clark gasped, almost unable to believe what he was seeing.

"It has the ability to 'separate'."

Locke flicked his wrist and sheathed the Yamato.

Almost simultaneously, he sheathed his sword.
The spatial rift, shimmering with starlight, began to slowly close and shrink from both ends.

It eventually disappeared completely into the air.

Looking at the dumbfounded Clark, Locke explained:

"As long as my will is focused enough, I can clearly perceive and locate the spatial node I want to go to."

"No matter where you are."

“I only need to wave it to cut through space and ‘separate’ a short, temporary tunnel leading to that node.”

Locke paused, then added meaningfully:
"Whether it's geographical space... or other levels of 'separation'."

"so."

Clark blinked, struggling to process this astonishing information, but also keenly grasped the key point in Locke's words, his voice tinged with uncertainty: "Separation?"

"So you mean... the you at the door in 'work mode' was 'separated'?"

Locke nodded, confirming Clark's guess.

Amid the increasingly confused gazes of the two children, he stood up, strolled over to the silent, composed 'Locke' standing by the door, raised his hand and patted his shoulder, the gesture as natural as if he were patting an old friend.

"You may not believe it if I tell you."

He said with a hint of inexplicable amusement, "Actually, he's 'Platinum Star'."

"?"

"?"

"?!"

The air freezes.

Clark and Salafir's expressions froze instantly, their minds a jumbled mess.

That invincible stand-in...

The spiritual power that the uncle spoke of, which should have been formless and intangible, attached to the physical body, has manifested...

Has he become a living, breathing 'person'?
He was also responsible for farming and training Bruce?
Could it be that?
Do they really need a platinum-level butler to serve as their nanny year-round?!
Seeing the two of them so inexplicably overjoyed, Locke smiled helplessly and continued to explain:
"It was a bit of a surprise; I didn't expect it to turn out this way at first."

"After all, it feels too strange to 'chop yourself', the feel is not right."

"So when we started this little experiment on the first day, I was thinking of having 'Star Platinum' do the cutting, since he's very precise. But I didn't expect," Locke shrugged, "that the cut was a bit too good, it actually... cleaved him off too."

"And so it became what you see now, a 'Platinum Star' with its own independent entity and the ability to act autonomously."

"Uh...I..." Clark remained silent for a full five seconds before struggling to process the information. He then remembered another crucial question: "But what about your other powers, Uncle..."

"Eat your meal one step at a time, and walk your path one step at a time."

Locke walked back to the large armchair, relaxed and sank back into the soft leather cushions, casually crossing his legs. "Now that we've started the experiment, let's see it through to the end."

"I continued to try to 'separate' with the Yamato, gradually separating the power out of my body."

"Lightning, ocean, mountains."

"Oh, right." He paused, as if remembering something, and added, "When it continued to cleave downwards, it also unleashed the power of the demon, which is why Platinum Star became a bit irritable."

Clark felt dizzy listening to this.

Uncle's body composition is so complicated!

He shook his head, but still focused on the most unbelievable point, pointing to the diligent 'worker' at the door:
"So... you're just going to let 'Platinum Star'... work for you? Grow crops and train Bruce?"

He only realized this belatedly.

My dad's joking guess that "Platinum Star has evolved and can farm remotely" actually came true.
The format was completely unexpected!

"correct."

Locke's answer was matter-of-fact, even tinged with a capitalist's satisfaction:
"Look how well it works! 'Star Platinum' has not only successfully broken through the limitations of Stand range and can act independently, but also, because of its ridiculously high precision, superhuman calculation ability, and tireless nature, it can perfectly simulate the work efficiency of ten of me!"

“Farming, training, patrolling… he takes care of everything, and he doesn’t complain.” He took a sip of tea contentedly. “Only now do I have time to enjoy some rare personal time here.”

Looking at the expressionless and reliable "Platinum Star" at the door, and then at the real person slumped in the chair, exuding an aura of 'I am finally free'.

For a moment, Clark's feelings were indescribably complex.

However, Clark took a deep breath, suppressed the urge to complain, and took a few steps forward.

His eyes gleamed with insight, and his tone carried an unusual calmness:
“Uncle, the person I remember… isn’t someone who would be content to slack off like this.” He looked directly into Locke’s eyes, as if trying to see through the true intentions beneath that lazy facade. “You must be hiding something from us.”

"Otherwise, given your personality, you would never easily resort to such a method as... 'splitting' yourself with a knife, just to have some peace and quiet."

"."

Upon hearing this, Locke paused slightly in the hand holding his teacup.

The pleasant smile on his face froze.

He looked up at Clark with some surprise.

This kid's super intelligence suddenly kicked in today?!

"Hey! Uncle, what kind of look is that?!" Clark was a little embarrassed by Locke's admiring gaze and protested, "I'm not some big, dumb guy who can only solve problems with super strength!"

"I'm so sorry... Clark."

Locke chuckled, shook his head, and a relieved smile appeared on his face.

He put down his teacup, straightened his posture slightly, his languid demeanor lessened considerably, and his gaze became serious.

“You’re right. It’s not just about being lazy,” he admitted. “It’s simply a necessary experiment.”

"Necessary experiments?"

Clark caught the key phrase and pressed, "So what's the purpose? You went to all this trouble to... uh, 'divide' yourself like this, what is it all for?"

Locke's gaze shifted slightly, landing on Salafir, who was standing on tiptoe, trying to pull a thick magic book from the middle shelf of a tall bookshelf.

The little boy didn't seem to care much about his father and brother's serious conversation; his attention was completely drawn to the old books.

Looking at Salafir's focused profile, Locke's gaze softened.

He looked at Clark again, his voice steady, yet carrying an undeniable determination:

"Separation".

He paused for a moment before clearly uttering the second half of the sentence:

"It's time to let even gods become independent individuals, possessing their own bodies."

(End of this chapter)