Chapter 64: The Dream of Two Boys

"Everyone loves to dream."

Peter gathered his thoughts and said to little Homelander, "I used to know two boys who both dreamed of being superheroes."

Little Homelander asked curiously, "Who were they, Dad?"

"One was the dream of an ordinary Kansas boy who thought that as long as he kept doing good deeds, the world would fully accept him."

"The other was the dream of a boy who lost both parents in Crime Alley at the age of eight, thinking that as long as he continued to fight criminals, the city would keep getting better and better."

"Were... were their dreams wrong then, Dad?"

"I don't know. Some think they were wrong, others think they weren't. The only thing certain is that these were their choices and their persistence."

Peter paused and looked at little Homelander, "They both rested and stumbled, but they never fell into the abyss; their goal was always their own mountain peak."

Little Homelander thought for a moment, then said with firm determination, "My goal has always been the mountain peak, too, Dad."

"Dad believes in you."

After saying a few more words to little Homelander, Peter went to the other room to pack his things.

Some paperbacks in the study—works by Bobby Bright, Stephen King, Robert Makenman's *The Catcher in the Rye* and *Slaughterhouse-Five*—were all placed into a box together.

"Knock! Knock! Knock!"

The Martian Manhunter stood outside, tapping on the door.

"Mind if we chat, Peter?"

Peter looked up at the Martian Manhunter. "Of course, we haven't really had a proper chat yet, Mr. Jones."

"Perhaps because in the beginning, we both held some prejudices against each other."

The Martian Manhunter walked in and casually picked up a copy of *The Catcher in the Rye*.

"I used to think you weren't a qualified father, but it seems I was wrong."

The Martian Manhunter admitted his mistake, "You will guide John onto a different path of heroism."

Hearing this, Peter looked at him in surprise. Was he really that great?

"No, Mr. Jones, I just don't want John to be a jerk."

Peter shook his head, placed the book into the suitcase, and asked the Martian Manhunter casually, "Were you ever a teacher, Mr. Jones?"

He remembered that this Martian Manhunter was very compassionate and had once worked as a educator.

"Yes, I used to be a teacher at a school. Gaining a sense of purpose by helping a child make his life choices—I loved that profession."

The Martian Manhunter put the book down and spoke of his past, "I have also adopted some orphans."

"Many children need help. Among them, some are just a little lost in the fog, while many more are deep within the darkness."

A gentle expression surfaced on his face as he recalled the process of adopting orphans.

"Some cases are more severe—children who were abused by their parents. Some of them are substance abusers, some suffer from severe bipolar disorder, and some engage in self-harm. The entire world has abandoned them in many ways, leaving them to the wolves and lions of the plains and jungles."

"Sounds like a noble cause."

Although Peter had no interest in charity, he had to admit that the Martian Manhunter's actions were commendable.

"If you ever run into funding issues with your charity work, Mr. Jones, I can make a donation."

The Martian Manhunter shook his head. "Thank you, Peter, but I don't think that's necessary for now."

The Martian Manhunter politely declined Peter's offer of a donation.

Peter didn't pursue the topic further. After exchanging a few more words, he carried the suitcase out to the car parked in the yard.

...

The Martian Manhunter drove toward Metropolis as a light rain began to fall.

Raindrops slowly accumulated on the car's windshield, forming streaks mixed with pollen. The wipers worked effectively, wiping away the streaks cleanly.

Along the road, townsfolk could be seen from time to time driving away to escape the wildfire.

Although the "Karl" wildfire had not yet reached Smallville, most people had already begun to evacuate.

"Dad, isn't Clark coming with us?"

Little Homelander, sitting in the back seat, asked Peter in the passenger seat.

"Clark is coming later with his parents. We'll meet them in Metropolis."

As he spoke, Peter turned on the radio to search for news broadcasts.

"The players on the Fills baseball team haven't been performing very well this year, but they are actually quietly building momentum—"

"——Rainfall will continue to intensify over the next four days. Experts say the spreading 'Karl' wildfire in Kansas will not be affected by the precipitation, which seems like bad news——"

"Now, a selection of jazz from Mumbai's Zechitel has become part of our global *Café Sounds* program——"

The three of them listened to the radio as the car finally arrived in Metropolis by nightfall.

Little Homelander looked out at the bustling metropolis under the night sky.

A fine drizzle was falling, and cars sped past one another.

Through the ethereal mist of rain, he saw an electronics superstore standing not far away like a mirage.

In the distance, uniform high-rise buildings formed a dim fence, outlining a jagged skyline.

"How does it feel to be in Metropolis for the first time, John?"

Peter asked little Homelander, who was staring at the scenery outside the window.

"It's beautiful. It's like a completely different world compared to Smallville."

Little Homelander turned his head and said to Peter, "But there's an oppressive feeling here."

"If people live here for a long time, Dad, I guess they'd feel very suffocated."

Peter nodded. "People here certainly carry a lot of pressure, yet countless still flock here eagerly."

"Why, Dad?"

"Because..."

Before Peter could finish his sentence, the car driven by the Martian Manhunter suddenly came to a halt.

From the dimly lit street they had just turned into, a commotion arose.

Peter cast his gaze over and saw a group of youths ganging up to beat someone near a dumpster.

The person being beaten was huddled on the road, hugging his head in silence, taking the punches and kicks without a sound.

Dull thuds echoed in the air, and passing cars did not stop to meddle in the affair.

Frowning in the dim light, Peter could see that the victim was a teenager of about fourteen or fifteen.

Sporting a slicked-back hairstyle and exuding an air of aristocratic poise, the boy remained completely silent even as he was beaten.

Seeing the scene unfold, the Martian Manhunter frowned as he stepped out of the car and scolded the group, "Hey, what are you doing?"

Hearing the Martian Manhunter's voice, the young men who were throwing punches turned around.

"None of your business! If you don't want a beating, get lost right now!"

The hoodlums threatened him with hostile tones.

Hearing the commotion, the beaten teenager lowered his arms from his head and looked toward the source of the voice, just in time to see Peter pushing open the car door and stepping out.