Chapter 41: First Anti-Klarakt Operation Strategy

"You...!"

Coughing violently, Hori looked at Peter with a look of shock.

Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that this man possessed extraordinary powers just like him.

"In a sense, the heart is a prime location."

Peter looked down at Hori, who was half-kneeling on the ground and gasping for breath. "Especially when your target is untrained. There are numerous nerves here. Boxers pay a lot of attention to strengthening this area; they train the muscles here to be as hard as armor. But for an amateur, the chest is the most effective target."

As a boxing enthusiast, Peter began lecturing him on combat knowledge.

Feeling patronized, Hori suppressed the pain in his chest, activated his super speed, and charged at Peter.

The speed that appeared lightning-fast to ordinary eyes looked as slow as a snail to Peter.

The abilities bestowed upon him by the kryptonite radiation from the "mermaid" gave him superhuman capabilities, but facing Peter—who was continuously enhanced by the pocket watch to near-superhuman levels—this speed fell far short.

Peter blocked his attack, landed a punch square on his opponent's chin to leave him dazed, and then followed up with a left hook.

With a thunderous explosion, Hori flew sideways like a cannonball.

His entire body smashed through a pillar, plowed a deep trench into the ground, and tumbled straight into a factory building.

The wall collapsed with a deafening crash, and stacks of abandoned steel pipes inside were scattered, rolling down with a clatter to completely bury him underneath.

Just as Peter was wondering if he had hit a bit too hard and killed the man, the scrap materials burst apart with a "boom," and Hori, buried underneath, roared and charged fiercely at Peter.

With tattered clothes and a bruised, swollen face, Hori gathered all his strength and swung a punch at Peter.

"Bang!"

The next second, Peter grabbed his opponent's wrist, shaped his left hand into a knife-edge, and struck him across the throat.

The formidable Hori immediately dropped to his knees again, gasping for breath.

His face turned beet red, as if his eyeballs were about to pop out of their sockets.

"This is the mastoid process. Its function is to protect the trachea. Striking here causes the target to suffocate or vomit. In combat, the vomit reflex restricts a person's movement. For the human body, this induces severe panic, thereby giving the attacker an absolute advantage."

Hori, his eyes bloodshot, finally recovered, desperately trying to suppress the sourness rising in his stomach.

"Why the hell do you keep adding commentary?!"

"Because I want to make you fear me. If you beat a dog to death, it will learn to fear everyone, becoming as weak as weak can be."

Peter looked down at Hori and asked, "Where are Jonathan and Martha?"

"They..."

Before Hori could finish his sentence, Peter delivered a punch straight to his armpit.

"The armpit is also an area where nerves are densely clustered."

"F***! What on earth are you trying to do? Aren't you going to let me speak?"

"Just deepening the impression to keep you from talking nonsense. Now tell me, Mr. Hori, where did you hide Martha and Jonathan?"

Feeling terrified and humiliated, Hori ultimately caved and revealed the location of Martha and Jonathan.

"You're the guy who robbed the Luthor Bank and the jewelry store earlier, aren't you?"

After confirming that the Kents were temporarily safe, Peter continued to question him.

Based on the superhuman physical prowess the man had displayed, Peter guessed that this old fellow was the culprit behind the previous serial robberies.

"Yes, that was me."

With a complex expression, Hori admitted that he was indeed the culprit behind the previous bank robberies.

"I just wanted those bankers to pay a price. They stole my house and left me homeless."

Peter nodded. He had no interest in the dirty dealings between Hori and the bankers, and said directly, "Now, take me to get the money and jewelry you robbed from the bank."

Hearing Peter's request, Hori froze in astonishment.

Shouldn't your top priority right now be rescuing the Kents?

Hori instantly slapped the label of "scumbag" onto Peter in his mind.

...

The Patrick Farm.

Homelander was gradually pushing Clark onto the defensive.

"Bang!"

Parrying Clark's punch, Homelander said angrily, "I've always been stronger than you, Clark. Dad always said your talent was extraordinary, and now I'm going to prove that your talent will never match mine!"

By this time, Homelander had completely lost his temper. He grabbed Clark's fist and hurled him violently toward the ground.

Clark's body smashed into the floor, leaving spiderweb-like cracks, and furniture was sent flying from the impact.

"No, you're wrong, Homelander."

Enduring the pain in his back, Clark staggered to his feet.

He, too, had been beaten into a rage by Homelander, casting all reason far into outer space. He roared at Homelander, "My talent *is* extraordinary, because I am the Godfather's son! The Godfather and I—we possess the exact same abilities!"

"What?!"

Homelander was momentarily paralyzed by Clark's words.

"Last time, when the Godfather fought the zombies in the auditorium, he displayed super strength and super durability. We both share these exact same abilities."

Clark spilled out everything he had been bottling up inside his heart.

Seeing that Clark was about to compete with him for their father's affection and the inheritance of this farm, Homelander instantly panicked.

"Shut up, Clark! You are not! You're Jonathan's son!"

"They are both my father!"

"Lies! Liar!"

With a flushed red face, Homelander charged forward and dealt a heavy blow to Clark's chest.

Relying on his tough hide, Clark took a step back, grabbed Homelander's shoulders, and tried to fling him away.

Homelander wrapped his arms around Clark's head and, gritting his teeth, delivered a brutal headbutt.

"Bang!"

With a dull thud, both of them staggered backward, clutching their heads.

With his head spinning, Homelander felt as though those damn butterflies and bees were buzzing inside his skull again.

He retreated, steadying himself against the staircase banister while clutching his head to clear his thoughts.

Clark was in no better shape; the world spun before his eyes as if it had been turned completely upside down.

His ears rang with a persistent hum, and even Homelander's figure blurred out of focus.

"Huff! Puff!"

Gasping heavily, Homelander clutched his forehead, his eyes suddenly catching sight of the fish tank that had not yet been smashed.

Inside the tank, a small fish emitting an eerie green glow was swimming around.

An idea flashed instantly through his mind. Moving with maximum speed, he rushed to the fish tank, scooped out the small fish, and hurled it at Clark.

Clark failed to notice Homelander's move, feeling only a flash of green light before his eyes.

Then, a wave of overwhelming weakness and helplessness washed over him.

Lacking all strength in his limbs, he immediately collapsed to the ground in agony.

Homelander looked down at Clark sprawled on the floor and said, panting heavily, "No, Clark, you are not Dad's son. Because Dad was never afraid of it."