I, the younger brother of Superman, ended up with a Thanos template.

The body was buried under the concrete floor of the abandoned factory, and no one would find it.

"What I mean is that he may not have committed any serious crimes at all."

Clark said in a deep voice.

The detective who was so adept at threatening people was unlikely to be a good police officer.

But perhaps he didn't seriously break the law, otherwise, working at the police station, he might have been discovered and thrown into prison long ago.

"Your naiveté is laughable, my brother."

David had anticipated that he would think this way, and shook his head.

Turn the laptop on the attic table around and press play.

Chapter 40: The Sold-Out Kent Farm

In the video, Fran, who is tied to a chair, is seen tearfully confessing to his past crimes.

"He frequently helped gangsters sell whistleblower information, murdered colleagues with whom he had conflicts, framed obstacles to promotion in the police department, and threatened people to steal various trade secrets... The crimes he committed are enough to warrant his execution five or six times over."

Finally, the video also shows Fran's desire to control Clark.

“If Clark doesn’t obey, I’ll teach him a lesson. For example, I’ll get a corpse and a black gun, hide them in the barn, frame your father for murder, and put him in jail. Only then will I truly have leverage over your family.”

A trembling voice could be heard in the video as Fran recounted his story with fear in his voice.

But Clark could still detect a chilling, sinister scheme in his words.

Perhaps my brother is right; he was naively clinging to wishful thinking.

"I made a mistake in this matter."

After the video finished playing, Clark looked slightly embarrassed and admitted his mistake to his brother.

He looked intently into David's eyes, his face filled with worry.

"But you shouldn't have killed him, brother."

You haven't even finished high school, yet you can beat someone into a vegetative state, torture them to extract confessions, kill them, and dispose of corpses without batting an eye.

I'm really scared.

Strictly speaking, his younger brother David is still a minor, but many of the things he does are enough to horrify many adults.

More than the thought of someone being killed, the future Superman Clark is more worried about David's future.

[Concern from Clark +35...]

[Template integration is 96% complete]

"What do you think of the soldiers who killed people during the defensive battle?"

David said.

Are they uncontrollable, evil-minded murderers?

"of course not."

Clark said, "How can defending the country be a crime?"

"Then don't bother me anymore."

After saying that, David turned and left.

"I am protecting this home from any outside troubles and destruction!"

Watching his brother's departing figure, Clark opened his mouth, wanting to argue but unable to find the words.

If your younger brother continues like this, he won't worry. What he fears is that if you don't pay attention to or stop things as they develop, and by the time the outcome is already decided, it will be too late to change anything.

"Today David crossed the line into murder, and he seemed completely unburdened, as if he had just crushed an insect or done something trivial."

Clark was filled with worry, which reminded him of the premonitions in Ms. Cassandra's works.

If those images are true, it's clear that the future David didn't limit his power to just protecting his home.

……

Dark clouds covered the sky, and cool raindrops fell and pattered against the glass.

The Metropolitan Environmental Center, the top floor of the building with clean and bright windows.

A man dressed in a suit and tie, his hair combed back, with a fighter-like tenacity between his brows, looked seriously at the crowd of people outside who were holding umbrellas and coming and going.

"The scenery here is really beautiful."

A kind voice came from inside, and a brown-haired man in a black overcoat walked into the office and took off his leather gloves.

He had a warm and welcoming smile on his face.

"Good morning, Mr. Rickman, welcome."

Paul, like a warrior preparing for a tough battle, slowly turned around, his voice serious yet polite.

"Director Paul called me here because there's something I can contribute to the environmental center."

Rickman, a billionaire worth hundreds of millions of dollars, sat down unceremoniously across the table, shifted his body as if he disliked the chair's lack of comfort, and looked up with a smile.

"I heard that your company is doing some research in Smallville and is preparing to acquire a few farms."

What are your company's plans?

He sat down in his assigned seat, looking directly into the other person's eyes to get straight to the point.

"My plan is to build a large new factory and create some jobs and tax revenue for our beloved metropolis."

Rickman shrugged.

Paul silently took a bottle of water sample from the cabinet, placed it on the table, and stared intently at him.

"what is this?"

"The groundwater samples taken from the site of one of your recently built factories have more parameters exceeding the standards than those of any other factory under your name," he said sharply.

“The relationship between Rickman Enterprises and the Environmental Center has always been very good, Paul.”

Rickman didn't even glance at it, and pointed to the corner of the room with a smile.

"Did you know that the water dispenser in your room was actually sponsored by my company? I had dinner with some of your colleagues just a couple of days ago."

Not everyone can be bought with money.

Tomorrow I will have my people issue a restraining order to prevent your company from approaching that town.

He stood up, his eyes gleaming with defiance, and braced himself against the table with both hands.

"Listen to me, it'll benefit everyone, otherwise..."

Rickman also stood up, his smile vanished, and his eyes revealed a chilling coldness that instilled fear.

“I have investigated the pesticide factories under your company’s name. There seem to be an unusually large number of cases where employees have been poisoned and sued you, although you have suppressed them all.”

Paul pulled out a thick folder and confronted him head-on without fear.

“I have contacted several people and decided to sue you again.”

Mr. Rickman will probably be very busy next and won't have time for anything else.

His gaze suddenly darkened, and after a few seconds, Rickman suddenly laughed, shaking his head as if in helplessness.

“You’ve really hit the nail on the head, Paul.”

He placed his hand on Paul's shoulder, his palm seemingly accidentally touching the back of his neck, making physical contact with him.

After a brief moment of dilation, Paul's eyes returned to normal. Looking at the business elite before him, he felt an immense sense of closeness and admiration, and suddenly felt extreme regret.

How could he be so rude to Mr. Rickman, who has been donating things to the environmental center?

"I'm sorry, sir, I just..."

"It's alright, Director Paul."

Rickman smiled gently, put his arm around him, and led him to the window, speaking to him as if he were an old friend.

“I admire your fighting spirit, but I have never bribed anyone with money.”

“You’re right, sir. I shouldn’t have doubted your integrity.”

"Look at the buildings outside. You've dedicated so much passion to your work, ensuring people's safe and environmentally friendly lives, but do you own any land at all?"

“No, sir, my wife, children, and I are still renting an apartment for the time being.” As if recalling something painful, a trace of sorrow appeared between Paul’s brows.

Rickman shook his head, his face seemingly showing genuine pity.

"What's the point of living like this?"

Think about it, Mr. Paul.

He patted the bewildered Paul on the shoulder and turned to leave.

A while later, in the lobby of the Metropolitan Environmental Center, Rickman, who looked like a successful man, walked to the door.

Bang!