Chapter 59: Clark's Good Children and Bad Children

Clark apologized to the other person with a look of unbearable pity.

Those words were like the fuse that ignited a bomb.

Accompanied by a muffled sound,

the Parasite, having absorbed too much energy, had its body wreathed in irregular electrical arcs and gradually began to crystallize.

Finally, giving Clark a look of despair and letting out a furious roar, it exploded right on the spot!

The dazzling white light instantly illuminated the pitch-black night.

The moment the explosion occurred, Peter used his super speed to rush in front of Clark, grabbed him, turned his back, and pulled him tightly into his arms to shield him.

The shockwave generated by the explosion shook the surrounding space.

"Boom!"

Amidst the violent explosion, the body of the Parasite instantly turned into dust.

After a moment, Homelander stared blankly at the purple dust drifting in the air and muttered to himself, "Did...... did we win?"

Disregarding the pain and burning sensation coming from his body, Peter lowered his head and asked Clark, "Clark, are you alright?!"

Clark nodded somewhat uneasily. "I'm fine. Is it...... dead? Godfather."

With complex emotions in his heart, Peter stroked Clark's head and said, "Yes, it's dead."

This kid really was a newborn calf unafraid of a tiger, daring to use such a method to deal with the Parasite, and actually succeeding!

If the Parasite hadn't intended to absorb his life force from the beginning, things probably would have gone in a completely different direction.

Credit where credit is due, this kid really did have a bit of protagonist halo.

"You shouldn't have been so impulsive, Clark. That method was very dangerous."

"I...... I know, Godfather."

Clark knew his behavior just now had been a bit risky.

But seeing the Parasite about to attack his injured godfather, for a fleeting moment, he felt as if he had plunged back into the Smallville River.

The water was pitch black and bone-chillingly cold, as if a pair of terrifying hands had grabbed him, pulling him forward and dragging him down.

To shake off that drowning sensation, he had done it instinctively.

Feeling somewhat guilty, Clark apologized to Peter, "I'm sorry, Godfather. I shouldn't have been so impulsive."

"No, don't apologize, Clark!"

Peter immediately said, "Although it was a bit impulsive, Clark, you did a great job!"

"Cough, cough......!"

Just as Peter was speaking with Clark, Martian Manhunter nearby coughed and stood up. "Thank you, Mr. Patrick, Clark, and John. Your courage and wisdom saved me."

If not for the help of the father and his two sons, he would have thought he was done for.

Homelander curiously asked him, "Mr. Jones, are you really a federal agent?"

At this moment, Martian Manhunter was wearing the appearance of the African-American John Jones, and Homelander certainly didn't believe the other man was actually any federal agent.

"Actually......"

The African-American skin on the surface of Martian Manhunter's body gradually turned green.

Revealing his true form, Martian Manhunter introduced himself to the others, "I am not from Earth. I am a Martian, the last Martian, and my real name is J'onn J'onzz."

Clark and Homelander looked at his green exterior in shock, and upon hearing that he was the last Martian, they were completely dumbfounded on the spot.

Peter, upon hearing the self-introduction, fell into deep contemplation.

This guy possessed superpowers similar to Clark's and Homelander's, and moreover, his character seemed quite decent.

If he could be invited to work as a nanny at the farm, he could not only protect Homelander and Clark, but also teach and train them in using their superpowers.

In addition, this guy's identity was African-American, so when the farm was busy on ordinary days, he could even moonlight as a farmhand.

Thinking of this, the gaze he cast upon Martian Manhunter was filled with burning enthusiasm.

However...... how was he supposed to convince this guy to come and be a nanny at his farm?

......

The next day, early morning.

Because of the incident with the Parasite, Peter gave Clark and Homelander a day off from school to rest at home.

Clark was watching a program about Hawaiian volcanoes on television in a somewhat absent-minded state when Homelander placed a box of popcorn in front of him.

"Where's Godfather?"

Clark had little interest in the popcorn; he looked up and asked Homelander.

"Dad said he went to hire a nanny, although I don't think we need one."

Homelander nonchalantly stuffed popcorn into his mouth and said to Clark, "You look a bit unhappy."

Clark's little face showed a hint of sorrow. "A little. After all, I killed someone yesterday."

"He wasn't a person, he was an alien creature. Alien creatures don't count as people."

Homelander shared his perspective with Clark. "Don't worry, Clark. You're not a bad kid."

Clark looked at the television program about the Hawaiian volcano, nodded, and said, "I'm not, and I don't want to be a bad kid."

Homelander put down the popcorn. "Nobody likes being a bad kid. Dad said that bad kids are like bad apples, and people won't allow bad kids to keep growing."

"If people think you're going to grow up to be a real 'bad apple,' they'll plot to cut you down before the tree bears fruit. Well, that's probably a metaphor Dad used. You know what I mean, Clark? A metaphor—they think that if you grow up one day and become a villain who might hurt others, they'll destroy you."

Homelander recounted the alarmist words his father used to teach him about "not being a bad kid" to Clark.

Clark asked in surprise, "Is that true?"

I have no idea, Homelander thought to himself.

Yet, he didn't answer that way. Instead, he said with a straight face, "Of course. But don't worry, if you don't want to become like that, you won't. The script of fate has never been written in advance."

He wrung his brains to recall what Peter had once told him. "Dad said that life leaves room for choices. Unless you completely give up on yourself, you are entirely capable of controlling your own destiny."

"Mm, I want to be a good kid."

"Then be a good kid."

"Will you help me?"

Homelander patted his chest. "Of course, I'll help you not become a 'bad bird.'"

"Thank you." Clark thanked Homelander sincerely.

Homelander wasn't quite used to such direct sincerity. "Uhm...... Clark, thank you for saving me and Dad. If you hadn't made the Parasite explode yesterday, both Dad and I might have been in danger."

Just as the two of them were discussing "good kids and bad kids," the bedroom door was pushed open with a creak.

An African-American man wearing sunglasses pushed the door open and walked in.

Clark and Homelander looked in surprise at John Jones standing at the doorway.

Martian Manhunter, carrying a suitcase, took off his sunglasses and said to the frozen pair, "Good morning, John, Clark."

"Mr. Jones?!"

Homelander looked at him in astonishment. "Are you...... here to work at the farm?"

Martian Manhunter's expression stiffened, and his original good mood was instantly ruined.

What a truly bad kid!