American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 25 The Kent Family

Chapter 25 The Kent Family (Please continue reading)
“There’s no IRS, Jonathan.”

"Some minor troubles, I have solved them."

Locke shook his head and then asked, "What about Clark? How is he?"

"Here it is."

Martha turned and walked to the back seat of the pickup truck, carefully helping out a frail figure.

Clark's face was still pale, but the blue in his eyes had regained some of its luster.

He was wrapped in Martha's plaid shawl and walked a little unsteadily, but he insisted on standing on his own.

"Uncle Locke." Clark's voice was much softer than usual. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Silly boy."

Locke strode forward holding Dio and pulled Clark into his arms. He could feel the boy's thin body trembling slightly, like a straw swaying in the wind.

Perhaps it was because he learned about his future from Giorno, or perhaps it was because he became a burden tonight.
In short
"this is not your fault."

Locke said softly, "It's not any of our fault."

"Everyone is fine."

Wiping her eyes, Martha suddenly noticed the cigarette butt on the ground.

Locke doesn't smoke.

"This is.?"

"A wolf."

Locke put it lightly, stamping it on the sole of his foot with the toe of his boot, "He helped solve the problem."

Jonathan raised his eyebrows suspiciously, but when he saw his wife's warning look, he wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

His brother already had enough secrets anyway.

The night wind blew through the ruins, picking up a few charred barn boards.

"Let's go." Locke put one hand on Dio's shoulder and supported Clark with the other. "We can have a midnight snack when we get home."

"Oh no!" Martha suddenly exclaimed. "Oh my God! My blueberry pie is still in the oven!"
-
The sweet aroma of blueberry pie wafted through the kitchen, and the dining table was littered with cups and plates.

Dio leaned back in his chair contentedly, with a little jam on the corner of his mouth, while Clark sipped Martha's special hot cocoa, his face much rosier than when he came.

"It's getting late."

Locke stood up and put on Jonathan's cowboy hat. The brim of the hat cast a shadow in the light. "Dior."

Pursing his lips, Dio slowly slid down from the chair and stuffed the last biscuit into his pocket.

Following Dio's movements, a hint of hesitation flashed in Clark's blue eyes.

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but then lowered his head, his fingers unconsciously twisting the tassels of his shawl.

Ok…

Such an abnormality naturally couldn't be hidden from Martha. She wiped her hands and took out another blueberry pie wrapped in tin foil from the oven: "Locke, wait."

Calling the two of them, Martha stuffed the warm pie into Dio's arms, then squatted down and gently tidied Clark's messy curly hair:
"Honey, do you have anything to say?"

Clark's ears instantly turned red.

He secretly glanced at Dio and Locke, and said in a voice as thin as a mosquito: "I think..."

"Let Clark come to your place tonight."

Martha suddenly looked up at Locke and said in a tone that left no room for doubt, "Isn't he going to inspect the wheat fields with you tomorrow?"

Jonathan was drinking his coffee and almost choked when he heard this:

"Wait, honey, Clark just..."

After receiving his wife's glare, Jonathan immediately swallowed the rest of his sentence and pretended to be very interested in the night view outside the window.

"Is it really possible?"

Clark's eyes lit up for a moment, but then dimmed again. "But my body."

"Cut the nonsense."

Dio suddenly interrupted him, his red eyes flashing with impatience under the light, "If you want to leave, hurry up and don't dawdle."

Looking at the two teenagers, Locke's mouth corners unconsciously rose.

He reached out and rubbed Clark's head: "Your mother is right. The three of us still have work to do tomorrow. It's time for you to get some sun."

"yeah!"

Clark cheered and almost jumped up from his chair, but his body went limp and he almost fell to the ground.

Martha quickly supported him and shook her head with a mixture of heartache and amusement.

"Be careful, kid."

Jonathan finally couldn't help but speak, and patted Clark's shoulder with his rough big hand, "Remember to listen to Uncle Locke."

"I will!"

Clark nodded vigorously, his curly hair bouncing with the movement.

He turned and hugged Martha tightly. "Thank you, Mom!" Martha's eyes reddened slightly. She kissed Clark's forehead and then said, "You three remember to come for pancakes tomorrow morning."

Locke left with the two children, holding Dio in one hand and Clark in the other, and the shadows of the three of them grew longer and longer on the country road.

Dio awkwardly tried to shake off his father's hand, but was held even tighter; Clark, on the other side, was being held hand and jumping around, pointing at the stars in the night sky and exclaiming in amazement from time to time.

"Dio, look! That's the Big Dipper!"

"Idiot, that's Cassiopeia."

"Eh? But obviously."

Listening to the two children's childish quarrel, Locke looked up at the starry sky after the rain.

The Milky Way stretches across the sky, and countless stars twinkle quietly.

In a certain invisible dimension, perhaps there are countless parallel worlds running simultaneously—

In some worlds, Clark becomes a tyrant, and in some worlds, Dio falls into darkness.
But at this moment, on this ordinary Kansas night, he was just an ordinary farmer walking home with his two children.

This is enough.

"Hurry up, boys."

Locke squeezed their hands tightly, "There's half a bucket of ice cream waiting at home."

"I want chocolate flavor!"

"Pineapple is king! Idiot Clark!"

The night wind brought the cheerful arguments of the teenagers, waking up a night owl napping on the fence. It flapped its wings and flew towards the moon, leaving only three figures on the ground, which gradually disappeared at the end of the farm path.

And behind them.

The light in the Kent house was shining gently, like a star that never went out.
-
Standing by the window, Martha's fingers unconsciously stroked the folds of the curtains, just like Clark playing with the tassels just now.

The moonlight filtered through the glass, casting mottled shadows on her tired face.

In the distance, the light from Locke and the two children's flashlights had become a small dot of light at the end of the wheat field.

"Ugh"

The sigh was so soft that it was almost inaudible, but it made Jonathan, who was clearing the dishes, stop.

He put down the foamy plate, wiped his rough palms on his apron, and walked behind his wife.

"The kids are growing up, dear."

Jonathan placed his broad palm gently on Martha's shoulder. "They always have their own secrets."

"But," Martha turned, her blue eyes filled with worry, "Locke keeps everything to himself."

She twisted her fingers around her apron. "Just like when he suddenly left town and then suddenly came back."

"He just doesn't want us to worry, dear."

"We have to trust him."

Jonathan picked up the photo frame on the table. Inside was a family photo taken at last year's Harvest Festival.

Locke stood in the middle, holding the heads of the two quarrelsome boys with his left and right hands respectively, his smile brighter than the sunshine behind him.

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Taking the photo frame, Martha gently stroked the three children in the photo with her fingertips:
“But he’s always like this.”

"One person leaves and one person comes back."

"You know, we watched him grow up. How old was Locke when I married you? Twelve, right?"

"So he's tougher than we thought."

Jonathan hugged his wife from behind, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"do not worry."

"We are all Kents. The trust between family members needs no words."

"This is enough."

Wind chimes tinkled outside the window, and Jonathan looked out into the night.

The scene in memory emerged from my mind——

On that rainy afternoon twenty-one years ago.