American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 99 The Old Father's Midnight
At midnight, the Kent farm was shrouded in tranquility, with only the porch lights casting a warm yellow glow.

"Squeak——!"

The familiar sound of the wooden door opening broke the silence.

As Dior stepped into the house carrying a heavy suitcase, his movements carried a subtle tension.

In the living room, the television screen flickered silently in the darkness with a pale blue light, playing a late-night talk show. The volume was deliberately turned down to the lowest setting, leaving only the host's indistinct murmurs and the audience's scattered, suppressed laughter.

"came back?"

Locke's voice suddenly came from the direction of the sofa, startling Dio so much that his fingers tightened.

He looked in the direction of the sound and saw his father sitting upright on the sofa, holding a steaming cup of milk in his hands, wearing a faded plaid pajama set with worn edges.

The warm yellow floor lamp cast a soft halo around him.

"Ah."

Dior responded calmly and placed the box on the shoe cabinet.

However, in her right hand she was also carrying a small cake box, with the words "Sweet Moments" printed in cursive script on the pink wrapping paper.

It seemed particularly abrupt.

Locke's gaze swept back and forth discreetly between the box on the shoe cabinet and the cake box in his son's hand, and his eyebrows unconsciously rose.

He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to ask something.

But thinking about how the child is growing up, all he can do is sigh helplessly:

"Dior."

He spoke again, his tone carrying a hint of gentle regret, "You missed a surprise tonight."

"What surprise?"

Dior frowned, but secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

It seems that her father did not notice anything amiss, and her disguise has worked for the time being.

He made a point of thoroughly washing himself at the motorcycle shop in Cébrelo that reeked of engine oil, then drove around most of the town, knocked on the door of a cake shop that was already closed, and even went so far as to smear some fresh cream on the inside of his shirt cuffs and collar.

At this moment, he exuded a sweet fragrance that could stun a bee, perfectly masking the decadent atmosphere of the Iceberg Club, a mixture of expensive perfumes, cigars, and alcohol.

You'll find out in a few days.

Locke smiled mysteriously, a hint of cunning in his eyes, deliberately keeping everyone in suspense.

"Boring." Dio's face darkened, and his tone was stiff, but he still placed the cake box on the coffee table in the living room and explained, "It's a gift from my boss, I work part-time at a cake shop."

"You're working a part-time job?"

"Cough cough!"

Locke was truly shocked this time, almost choking on the hot milk he had just drunk. He abruptly put down the cup, his eyes wide open, staring at his son in disbelief.

A clumsy attempt turned out to be a success!
Did this child really go to work?

And you even went to...make mini bread rolls?!

He subconsciously sniffed—

Yes, it truly has an intensely rich, creamy aroma that's almost overwhelming, even...

It also seems to have a faint cherry scent mixed in?
That's true, how can a cake shop not have fruit cake?

"Ah."

Dio's reply remained indifferent, as if he were eager to end the conversation. "And Salafir?"

"I spent the whole night fooling around with Clark and the others, and now I'm asleep."

As Locke spoke, his gaze returned to the cake box, and he slowly reached out to untie the pink ribbon tied to it.

Dio, keenly noticing the plural in his father's words, raised an eyebrow. "Them?"

"Hahaha~"

Locke chuckled dryly, his eyes darting around, pretending to be fully focused on dealing with the slightly tangled ribbon.

"This cream looks really good, it seems like they used a lot of ingredients..."

Seeing his father's stiff and almost clumsy performance, Dior gave a cold snort, stopped asking questions, and turned to walk straight to the stairs.

However, a sound came from behind.
"Dio, wait a minute."

“I didn’t expect you to go to work today. Dad wanted to talk to you last night to clear up the misunderstanding,” Locke said helplessly. “But you seemed very ‘busy’ last night.”

"Plus, you have to go to school this morning and give a speech at an elementary school this afternoon."

"I was planning to tell you after dinner, but..." "I didn't expect you to start working part-time at the cake shop today."

"Misunderstand?"

Dior frowned slightly, a sense of foreboding creeping into his heart.

"yes."

“You might have misunderstood. Our family isn’t facing any financial crisis,” Locke sighed. “It’s just that the farmers in town have been having a tough time lately, and Jonathan and I are trying to find ways to help them out.”

"I'm sorry I made you work all night."

"How about Dad makes it up to you in some way?"

"."

"no need."

Taking a deep breath, Dior suppressed the anger rising in his chest.

at this point.

And
If it weren't for this 'misunderstanding,' I wouldn't have made such a large sum of money.

Theoretically, if he earns money again, he will have just enough to buy that limited edition Harley-Davidson for $100,000, and he will even have a lot more to spare.

Let's say it's for my father's birthday the week after next.
It was also because of the overflowing kindness of his father and uncle; someone had to support them.

"I see."

Dior snorted coldly and left without turning his head.

Footsteps echoed on the wooden stairs, gradually fading into the distance.

This kid's reaction is so calm?
"Dio, want to eat something?" Locke asked hesitantly, feeling guilty. "It should be very fresh since it's just come out of the oven."

"I'm tired after eating all night."

"Oh fine."

The old father's voice lowered, carrying a hint of barely perceptible disappointment.

The door to the second-floor room was gently closed, and the living room became completely quiet, with only the low background sound from the television remaining.

Locke finally untied the ribbon, opened the box, and inside was a small cake decorated with buttercream frosting and a few cherries.

He picked up his fork, forked off a small piece, and put it in his mouth.

The cream melts on the tongue, bringing a cloying sweetness reminiscent of artificial saccharin, with a texture...
It's not considered top-notch.

Well, that's probably how a newly hired part-time cake-making apprentice should be.

To be honest, he was starting to miss the skills of his master chef, Logan.

A cake made with maple syrup and fresh butter is truly sweet and delicious.

If Logan were here tonight, he might complain that the cake was too sweet, but at the same time, he couldn't help but share a cup of hot cocoa with him and chat idly while watching a boring TV program.
That bastard, I don't know where he's been for the past two years.

No news at all.

With a sigh, Locke looked around and suddenly felt a sense of loneliness in the quiet.

The blue light from the television screen flickered silently on the wall, the refrigerator hummed rhythmically in the corner, and the occasional distant bark of a dog from outside the window made the room feel even quieter.

This silence
This might be the norm for ordinary people, especially late at night.

but.
For Locke, every waking midnight felt exceptionally long.

The energy flowing through his body was like a never-ending furnace, giving him extraordinary physical strength. As long as his spirit was not exhausted, sleep was not a necessity for him.

So in fact, during these years, when Smallwell fell asleep, the world was shrouded in night.

He often spent his nights alone, guarding this quiet place, watching the children upstairs, and listening to the same stand-up comedy shows he had seen before.
After glancing furtively at the direction of the stairs and confirming that Dio had returned to his room, Locke lightly traced a line in the air with his fingertip.

A tiny spatial rift quietly appeared.

Immediately afterwards, a palm-sized, semi-transparent dragon soul poked its head out.

Its entire body was enveloped in a faint, dark golden halo, its form elegant and agile. At this moment, it was affectionately rubbing its illusory, slightly cool head against Locke's fingers, emitting a soft chime like a wind chime.

"Now you're the only one with me."

Locke gently broke off a small piece of the cream cherry that adorned the cake and offered it to Little Dragon Soul's mouth.
"Ang~"

The little dragon purred contentedly, its tiny paws tugging at the sleeves of its pajamas, its golden eyes gleaming in the darkness.

(End of this chapter)