American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior

"Good boy!" Old Bob leaned against the rusty tractor, slapping the hood with his rough hands. "You're several times faster than your father!"

Hearing this, the boy rubbed his nose shyly with the back of his hand.

"Grandpa Bob, do you want to harvest the land east of your house? I'm free this afternoon."

"Ouch, don't!"

Old Bob waved his hands repeatedly, and the wheat husks in his hands fell off.

"I, an old man, would like to live two more years. With the speed at which you work, my blood pressure will soar just thinking about those good-for-nothing, lazy grandchildren at home!" Old Bob patted his chest exaggeratedly, with a look of lingering fear on his face.

"Hahahaha!"

Hearing this, Clark couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Touching the gray stubble on his chin, Old Bob narrowed his dim eyes and looked carefully at the handsome and tall young man in front of him.

The sunlight outlined Clark's angular profile, and he was in a trance.

The old man seemed to see Jonathan and Locke sweating profusely in this rolling golden ocean more than 20 years ago.

The tractors were not so noisy at that time, and the wild berries on the edge of the field were

Hey.

I really miss it, but it has become less common in recent years. I wonder if it has been eaten by the rampant wild animals.

"Your father and your uncle"

"I talked to them about selling the land a few days ago." Old Bob fished a wrinkled cigarette case from his pocket, took out a cigarette, lit it, and smacked his lips. "That kid Locke thinks I don't understand. That price is enough for me to buy a house in Florida."

"Old man, it wasn't in vain that I rescued him from the gates of Gotham."

"."

Clark's smile paused. He squatted down and unconsciously stroked the wheat ears on the edge of the field.

“Are you really going to sell it?”

"Sell it, silly boy."

Old Bob blew out a smoke ring, and the gray smoke curled and dispersed in the breeze. "The land is there, why would I be reluctant to give it up?"

His cloudy eyes swept past the slightly crooked old barn of his own family in the distance and looked out at the wider fields.

"My whole life... When I was young, I dug for food in the soil. Now that I'm middle-aged, I'm lucky and have to endure the ups and downs. Well, the only good thing I've done is to bring your Uncle Locke back. Otherwise, we in Smallville wouldn't be so prosperous. In recent years, the farmers in this town have been farming according to your uncle's instructions, and they're living much better than they did back then."

"oops"

"Sorry, sorry, Clark, when you get old, you tend to ramble."

"Anyway, I've lived to an old age, and after so many twists and turns, it's time for me to retire."

"After all, I've watched you grow up, generation after generation, into big trees..." He paused, the cigarette butt flickering between his fingers, "Now I should be satisfied..."

"I feel at ease leaving them to you."

"Anyway"

“Take good care of the land that feeds us.”

"Om-"

A ladybug landed on the back of Clark's hand.

When he was five years old, it seemed that it was also on the edge of this field that Old Bob taught him to distinguish between ladybugs and pests.

"Come visit Grandpa in Florida sometime."

"As for that abandoned barn..." The old man patted his shoulder, put a key in his hand, chuckled, and said with a bit of open-mindedness, "See if you can use it, Clark."

".Um"

Without saying anything, Clark simply took the key and murmured in response.

He stood up and watched the old man's hunched back gradually disappear in the waves of wheat, the dust kicked up by his old leather boots shining in the sunlight.

The wind blew through the wheat tips like a long sigh.

"Snapped!"

The crisp sound of a book closing interrupted Clark's thoughts.

"boom!"

A figure, carrying a few fallen oak leaves, tumbled lightly from the dense branches of the old oak tree with twisted branches beside the ridge of the field.

The sunlight streamed on her dazzling golden hair, and the tight black turtleneck sweater made her skin look even paler.

The shadows of the trees cast mottled spots of light on the young man's face, and his red eyes swept over without any warmth.

“Go home when you’re done.”

Dio lazily shook the "Origin of Species" in his hand, and without waiting for Clark to speak, he turned around and walked along the ridge of the field.

"it is good."

Clark responded habitually, took a step forward, and naturally followed the tall figure.

Talk about it.

"Dio, are you half a head taller than me?"

"nonsense."

"Oh, so you are the big fool now?"

"."

Clark ended the topic swiftly.

In this way, the two walked in silence, one in front and one behind, as the ridge of the field meandered forward.

Until Clark inadvertently glanced at the sparkling stream not far away and paused slightly.

In the soft grass beside the stream, a small figure about five years old was kneeling.

His soft, short, jet-black hair swayed gently in the wind, a strand of hair stubbornly sticking out from his forehead. The cuffs of his dark red Tang suit were wet from the stream, but the boy was completely unaware, for he was completely engrossed in stroking the rabbit in his arms.

And the surprising thing is.

The wild animal, which should have been timid, curled up meekly on his lap, allowing the boy's slender fingers to examine its obviously injured and awkwardly positioned hind leg.

"Sarafil!"

Clark's heart warmed up, and he easily crossed the distance in one stride, and in an instant he was beside the boy. His tall figure blocked some of the sunlight. He squatted down with concern, "What are you busy with? What's wrong with this little guy?"

"Brother Clark!"

The boy raised his head and smiled purely, his black gemstone eyes clear and transparent.

"It got tangled in a thorn bush and seems to have sprained its leg."

"Shu~"

Almost as soon as the words fell, an extremely soft, almost transparent milky white light flowed out from Sarafiel's small palm and gently wrapped around the hare's injured hind leg.

The halo flashed and disappeared so quickly that it made people think it was an illusion!

But Clark could clearly see that the hare's hind leg, which had been drooping awkwardly, instantly returned to its natural posture, and its tense muscles relaxed.

This astonishing scene would probably make anyone who saw it drop their jaw in shock.

But Clark

This came as no surprise to him.

This ability has appeared from time to time since Sarafiel was three years old.

Sometimes, the wounds he and Dio got from fighting were healed by just a touch from this little guy.

"Dio, look!" Clark turned around excitedly, wanting to share his brother's good deeds. "Saraphile has done this again today—"

There was no one behind.

The blond young man had already walked a hundred meters away and didn't even bother to turn his head.

"Dio this guy"

Clark's brows were twisted into a knot, and a sense of helplessness and slight annoyance surged in his heart.

"it does not matter."

Sarafiel said softly, the light on her fingertips gradually extinguishing, "My brother just... doesn't agree with me interfering with nature."

He paused, imitating Dio's cold and rational tone:

"Sarafil, don't keep doing this."

"You are interfering with nature and destroying the natural balance of natural selection."

Touching the rabbit's soft ears, Sarafiel gently placed it in front of the bushes. Then the rabbit pricked up its ears, rubbed the boy's wrist in a very humane way, and jumped into the bushes.

Looking at the direction where it disappeared, Sarafiel smiled with satisfaction.

"It's just that I can't bear to see them hurt and in pain..."

“I can’t turn a blind eye.”

Seeing this, Clark sighed helplessly and could only use his favorite action from childhood to express his support for Sarafiel.

"Sarafil, I think you did the right thing." He ruffled his brother's hair. "Don't worry, Dio treats everyone like this."

"Remember to come home for dinner." Clark stood up. "Call me if you need anything, no matter where I am."

"They all appear like lightning, right?"

Sarafiel raised her little face and smiled, dispelling the gloom from before. "I know."

"You little guy." Clark was infected by Sarafiel's smile and also laughed. He rubbed his brother's hair again and said, "Brother is leaving first. You must come home to eat later. Don't eat food in the wild! And don't eat food given to you by animals! Be careful of stomachache."

"Okay, I understand." Sarafiel nodded obediently, smiling as he watched Clark stride across the wheat field, his tall back submerged by the waves of wheat.

The stream returned to tranquility, with only the sound of gurgling water and the rustling of grass in the wind.

Sarafiel still knelt quietly in the same place, his eyes fixed on his reflection in the clear stream.

The sunlight filtered through the treetops, casting tiny spots of light on the water.

However, in this peaceful silence——

"Why is this so? Why, brother!"

A voice that was exactly the same as his own, but with a completely different sharpness, coldness, and even a hint of mania, suddenly seeped out from the small shadow under his feet without any warning!

The voice was filled with strong dissatisfaction, directed directly at the blond figure that had long gone away.

"Why do you put up with that man's arrogance?!"

"We are obviously our father's only beloved children, he is just..."

Sarafir ignored it.

As if the malicious whispers were just a breeze passing over the water.

He simply calmly immersed his little hands back into the cool stream, allowing countless tiny, almost invisible soft light points to flow out from his fingertips like tiny stars and merge silently into the water.

The weather is too hot, and the fish in the water seem to be listless?

The boy thought intently.

Chapter 77 Dawn Project

Dio pushed open the wooden door of the farmhouse, and the hinges made a familiar creaking sound.

Clark was about to turn around when he was suddenly stopped by a voice:

"Clark!"

He turned around and saw Uncle Locke standing in the shadow of the barn waving at him.

The afternoon sun shone on him, outlining a silhouette that was almost unchanged from ten years ago.

It was still the same washed-out work shirt, the same perfectly trimmed stubble, and even the smile lines at the corners of his eyes seemed frozen in time.

"Jonathan and Martha went to town." Locke casually wiped his forehead with the back of his floury hand, leaving a little white mark. "Eat here today, Clark."