American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior

He changed the subject, squatted down and ran his fingers over the fallen straw beside him, "These."

The fallen wheat was covered in mud and some had even broken.

The once full ears of wheat now lay scattered in the soil, their bent stalks lifeless.

"Listen up, you two."

Locke's voice was soft, but every word was clear. "Standing is certainly something to be proud of, but falling does not mean failure."

He broke off a fallen stalk of wheat, revealing the green section inside.

"Look, they're still alive."

"As long as they are not blown away, this rainstorm will allow their roots to grow deeper. Next year, they will absorb more nutrients and grow stronger."

Clark blinked, then suddenly squatted down beside Locke and began to examine the straw like his uncle:

"So. The future that Giorno was talking about."

Locke burst out laughing.

Obviously, although this guy kept saying that he didn't care, he actually cared a lot in his heart.

Ask whenever you get the chance.

"Like these fallen ears of wheat."

Locke took over the conversation and brushed off the mud on Clark's trouser legs. "It's just a little bit of wind and frost. Just keep trying to grow. The miracle of nature will give birth to new life."

"no no no"

"Dad, you're not right."

Obviously

There are always rebellious sons who want to oppose Locke.

Dio stood on the edge of the field, his arms folded across his chest. He pouted, his red eyes flashing with a gleam of defiance. He strode into the wheat field, his boots rolling over the soft soil, and squatted down to point at the fallen ears of wheat.

"I have read books."

"In the wild, this fallen wheat won't even make it to next year."

"They will rot, mold, and eventually become food for the 'lucky one'."

The young man poked the only standing ear of wheat, causing the grains to fall, and snorted coldly:

"I, Dio, don't want to be used as food."

Locke was stunned, the sunlight flickering in his surprised pupils.

Survival instinct?

Isn't this the dark will?

He didn't expect that Dio could think of this level now.

"Interesting." Locke's mouth curled up slowly. "So you want to be the last one standing?"

"Of course!" Dio raised his chin, but then frowned, "But..."

His eyes swept across the entire wheat field, and a hint of confusion flashed in his red eyes.

“I actually want to”

"Well," Clark looked at Dio, then at Locke, and suddenly interrupted, "Then can I be the ridge?"

Both Kents turned their heads at the same time, their expressions showing identical confusion.

"Look."

Clark gestured, his blue eyes sparkling.

"The ridges won't be blown down by the wind, and they can protect the wheat from being trampled."

"Idiot!" Dio slapped Clark on the head. "Tiangen is dead! You are alive! And Tiangen is sacrificing himself to be stepped on every day!"

"Sigh~"

"Clark, is your head made of iron?!"

Looking at the two teenagers making a mess, Locke suddenly burst into laughter.

The laughter startled the skylarks in the wheat field, and they fluttered off into the blue sky.

"All right, boys." He held a head with one hand. "There are a thousand Hamlets in the hearts of a thousand people."

Dio frowned, "Ham what?"

"That's right." Locke thought for a moment and then changed his words. "Some people want to be standing ears of wheat, some want to be ridges in the fields. That's fine."

"But remember—"

His expression suddenly became serious, and he tapped the chests of the two teenagers with his fingers: "You can be whoever you want to be."

"The only thing you can't do is be a bad guy."

The sunlight became particularly bright at this moment, casting the shadows of the three people in the wheat field, stretching them very long.

Dio's red eyes flickered slightly, Clark's curly hair was stained with golden spots, and Locke's voice, like a seed, quietly fell into their hearts:

"This is me, Locke Kent, to you"

"The final bottom line."

Chapter 29: Jonathan the Plastic Man, Chevrolet Comes Again

The October wind carried the fragrance of wheat across the farm, and golden wheat waves rolled to the horizon.

The calendar hanging under the porch has turned to the last page, which is densely marked with the countdown to the autumn harvest.

But Dio and Clarke were not at the farm.

Two weeks after school started, both teenagers went to study in a small town.

Just stay.

"Ugh"

"Ugh"

Two farmers were sighing in front of the rebuilt barn.

Jonathan scratched the back of his head, and bits of grass fell through his matted hair.

Locke stared at the gleaming oil stains on the wrench, wondering what he was thinking.

"You speak first?"

"No, you say it first."

The two looked at each other and suddenly said in unison:

"Clark's birthday!"

"Dio's birthday!"

Black smoke billowed, and Jonathan's tractor made a "puff" sound, as if he was amused by this coincidence.

Shaking his head, Locke pulled a crumpled list from under the toolbox.

At the top, circled in red, was a date:

Harvest Day.

Yes, that day was payday.

It is not only a day to harvest crops, but also a day to harvest two gifts from heaven.

"Actually, Martha has been talking about it since August."

Jonathan pulled out a copy of "The Complete Guide to Children's Party Planning." "She said this year is Clark and Dio's eighth birthday, so it has to be something grand."

“She says that every year.”

Locke couldn't help but smile, and then took out a small notebook from his pocket.

On it is Dior's flamboyant handwriting:

【Birthday Wish List】

1. The gift cannot be repeated with the previous one.

2. Be thoughtful.

3. Be sure to be attentive!

It's true that the older you get, the harder it is to please.

"This boy"

"Ugh"

"Locke, actually my private money was discovered by Martha some time ago."

Jonathan said with a sad face, "My pocket money is not enough anymore."

"Didn't Martha just give it to you half a month ago?" Locke frowned.

He wondered if Jonathan had developed some bad habit.

"Don't get me wrong." Jonathan coughed and said, "You know, no man can resist that."

"Which one?" Locke was surprised.

Isn't it just a simple bad habit?!

"Some time ago." Jonathan suddenly lowered his voice. After looking around to make sure Martha wasn't nearby, he pulled a toy store flyer from his trouser pocket mysteriously. "That robot animation from that island country."

Locke's brows relaxed: "Is it Gundam?"

"Sh-!"

Jonathan hurriedly covered Locke's mouth, "Keep your voice down! Martha still thinks I bought tractor parts."

The sun shines on the flyer, revealing a picture—[PG Perfect Gundam Limited Edition]

The few zeros that followed made Locke gasp.

"you"

Locke's voice trembled a little. "You used all your pocket money this month to buy two big plastic toys?"

Superman's adoptive father, 41-year-old Jonathan Kent became a plastic man.

What am I dreaming about?

Hearing this, Jonathan blushed:

"What do you mean by plastic toys? This is a man's romance! And this one is made of alloy!"

He took out a second flyer and showed the half-assembled model inside. "Look at this joint linkage, this detail."

In the shadows.

Two middle-aged men were staring at the flyer head to head, as if they were doing some illegal transaction.

Locke's Adam's apple rolled.

The 1/60 alloy frame in the photo glows coldly under the light, so precise that it's hard to look away.

He admits.

I am also a little moved.

"So," Locke said faintly, "give me one?"

"no!"

Jonathan stuffed the flyer back into his pocket as if he had been electrocuted. "I want to get both of these! One in the original color, and the other one, I'll tell the toy store owner, I can make a battle-damaged version."

Locke sneered and slowly took out Dio's wish list and shook it:

"Then let me see what you can give Clark as a gift."

"bastard"