American comics: Praising the sun, starting from Gotham!

Just as Xiu En was still pondering the fork, a figure hurriedly ran over from the street corner.

He was a big man big enough to be a football defenseman.

He was wearing a slightly oversized, inexpensive gray suit, with even some frayed threads visible on the cuffs.

The black-rimmed glasses on his nose looked like they might slip off at any moment, and he was carrying a huge pile of file folders taller than his head and a still-warm cup of coffee.

Excuse me! Sorry! Please let me through!

Even in this embarrassing moment of being almost late, the big man's voice carried a rustic and gentle quality unique to Kansas farms, and he even helped an old lady who was almost knocked over by him.

However, just as he passed the outdoor cafe, Hugh and the big guy paused almost simultaneously.

Clark Kent, or rather the man who would one day be called a god among men, has not yet officially appeared as Superman. He has not even had time to fully learn to control his super senses when he detects a heat source.

In his thermal imaging view, the black-haired man slumped in the chair looked like a miniature human sun.

What flowed beneath that thin layer of skin was not blood, but a high-density golden fluid.

"Well--"

Clark instinctively pushed up his glasses, stumbled, and almost spilled the hot latte he was holding onto Hugh's expensive-looking trench coat.

Xiu En didn't move, or even open his eyes; his two fingers held the tilted paper cup in mid-air.

Not a single drop of coffee was spilled.

"Take it easy, big boy."

Xiu En opened one eye; his silver eye shone with a pure gold hue under the light.

He looked the short, big man up and down, then rudely brought his nose close and sniffed.

There was the sun, cornfields, and an overwhelming sense of compressed energy.

The system alarm sounded.

[High-risk target detected. Energy detection: Infinite]

"I...I'm sorry, sir. The sunlight was too bright, I couldn't see clearly."

Clark quickly regained his balance and looked at the strange man who gave him an extremely friendly yet dangerous feeling, giving him a shy smile.

That smile was so pure that Xiu En felt he couldn't stay there any longer; it was too bright.

"It's alright, young man."

Bruce, who had been observing silently, suddenly spoke, adopting a Wayne-esque fake smile.

"An intern at Planet Daily? I might be your future boss."

"Oh? You're Mr. Wayne? I've seen the news!"

Clark gaped in surprise.

"I mean, welcome to the Metropolis. Um, is your friend growing vegetables on his shoulder?"

"That's the latest trendy item in Gotham."

Shuen patted the sunflower on his shoulder that was baring its teeth at Clark.

"Besides, are you one of those guys who live by the light? Your heartbeat is much louder than mine, like there's an engine roaring in your chest."

Clark's face stiffened, his fingers gripping the paper coffee saucer tightly.

Bruce cut off the dangerous conversation at the right moment.

"Alright, Xiu En, stop joking with the newbie. Go help Mr. Kent get his things. Since he's an employee, it's necessary to get to know him."

"Yes, sir."

Shuen grinned, sprang up from his chair, and enthusiastically took half of the mountain of documents from Clark's arms.

Shuen twirled the fork between his fingers like a silver halo, his tone carrying the kind of regret that only Gotham natives would have when watching a spectacle unfold.

"Peace, it's so peaceful."

He squinted and pointed to the only patrol car that had driven by slowly with its siren blaring for the entire ten minutes.

"Are the police not chasing crazy people who can speed at 200 mph in speed-limited zones and scatter Teflon tacks on the road, but rescuing a cat from a tree?"

There was no gunpowder smoke in the air of the metropolis, no sulfur smell from the mud pits, and even the stray dogs passing by looked overnourished.

This made him, who had just returned from a vacation in a hellish dungeon, feel extremely uncomfortable, like someone who was used to sleeping on a bed of nails being suddenly thrown into a Simmons mattress.

Clark Kent sat awkwardly across from him, his large hands, which still looked like some kind of marble sculpture even under his oversized suit, trying to gently set down his coffee cup.

"Isn't peace good, sir? I mean, everyone can go to work and come home safely, that's what the metropolis is all about..."

His blue eyes, hidden behind thick glasses, were filled with a light of simplicity, so sincere that Xiu En wondered if he should give him a big red flower.

"Kid, in our simple and honest place, peace is often used to describe cemeteries."

As soon as Xiu En finished speaking, the background noise from the cemetery was broken by a loud, lively scream.

Across the street, in front of a boutique, a guy who probably hadn't passed the Joker's lowest-level written test was gesturing at an old lady carrying two shopping bags, with a cheap shopping bag over his head that these days hardly ever get used to. He was holding a pistol with the safety seemingly stuck.

"Robbery! Give me that, uh, everything!"

His voice even had a tremor.

Clark's body tensed instantly, almost instinctively, and the shoulder seam of his suit made a dangerous ripping sound.

Shuen's radar flashed for a split second, and the humanoid reactor named Clark suddenly increased its power at that instant.

But the people of Gotham never wait for anyone.

"Tsk, their amateurishness is heartbreaking."

Xiu En didn't even move his butt from the chair; he just tilted his head slightly.

The alloy fork he had shaped into a silver arrow disappeared with a flick of his wrist.

The silver light was faster than the sound.

The robber across the street felt a sudden lightness in his hand, followed by a tremendous shock that traveled through his entire arm from the once-threatening pistol.

"Snap—clang!"

The unfortunate pistol's barrel snapped cleanly in the middle as if it had been laser-cut, with a wisp of smoke even rising from the break due to the high-speed friction.

The broken gun barrel spun as it flew into the nearby non-recyclable trash can with a mocking crack.

The robber, who was struggling with the shopping bag, was completely stunned. Looking at the remaining half of the iron block in his hand, which could only be used to crack walnuts, he forgot all his lines.

The fierce old woman, who had been screaming just a second ago, froze for a moment, and then slammed the shopping bag full of frozen turkeys down on the robber's head.

The sunflower perched on Xiu En's shoulder lazily turned itself around, retracting the vines it had originally intended to strangle.

"That's what you call a lack of proficiency in the business here."

Xiu En shook his hand as if he had just swatted a mosquito that didn't exist in the metropolis, and looked at the poor robber who was now surrounded by enthusiastic crowds.

He turned his head and grinned at Clark, whose buttocks hadn't fully left the chair and was still in an awkward starting position.

"Remember this, big boy: sometimes, a good fork is more effective than any hot-blooded passion that might tear your shirt."

Bruce silently picked up the glass of ice water that was still steaming, covering the smile on his lips that was hard to tell whether it was praise or a calculation of loss.

"Xiu En, you will have to pay for the damaged public property. I will deduct the cost of this set of cutlery from your allowance next week."