Superman

If it is said that the time and space of the main universe, all the undercurrents are hidden on a calm surface, gradually showing the harbinger of a crisis that is about to come.

Then Luke's world is like the retirement life of retired workers, with a slow and monotonous pace.

"Push harder, didn't you eat?"

"Think of me as Lana's quarterback boyfriend, yes, that's it, hit me hard!"

"Too weak, too weak... Kakarot! Now you are not even qualified to be my opponent!"

"..."

In the past, facing such a boring world.

Luke might choose to use Hollywood female stars to collect stamps and keep repairing cars to pass the time.

But now, he found a more interesting entertainment.

That is to train the little cousin of Krypton!

Under the private residence, there is a wide training ground.

Bang bang!

Bang bang bang!

The muffled sound was connected in a string, like firecrackers.

The fist is like a fast and rhythmic drum beat, constantly falling on Clark.

He is like a human sandbag, he can only hold his head in his hands, passively bear the violent offensive of his big cousin, and there is no room for counterattack.

The training process these days is like that.

He was beaten repeatedly until he couldn't stand up.

"I, I give up, big cousin!"

Clark, feeling exhausted, gasped violently, even speaking intermittently.

"Clark, your will is not firm enough, you should say,'I can still fight you all day'!"

Luke retracted his fist and said with a slight disgust: "It's too unmanly to give up so quickly!"

Clark took off the tattered gloves, his body seemed to be hollowed out.

The whole person sits on the hard ground with pits and bumps, and his chest rises and falls like a pulling bellows.

He looked up, his cousin's heavy fists that were enough to hammer him, and then felt the sore muscles.

If this is to fight with the big cousin all day, I am afraid that he will die on the spot and everyone will be gone.

"I still can't learn to fight..."

Clark shook his head, a little depressed.

In front of Luke, he looked extremely clumsy.

The punch was not fast enough, and the reaction was slow, and he could only be beaten every time.

The only difference is the length of time to persist.

"Fighting requires a long exercise, Clark."

Luke waved his hand. This amount of exercise was a warm-up at best, not to mention breathing, not even sweating.

"I just want you to learn how to control power first."

In the beginning, Clark tried his best to blow the air every time he punched.

With each step, cracks and potholes can be stamped on the solid ground.

If there is no Luke's biological force field covering the surroundings, I am afraid that this house will be demolished.

"At least you have learned how to control the force of punches so that you won't lose control anymore."

Luke smiled slightly and threw a hot towel to his little cousin.

The Kryptonian's physique is tough, even if he was used as a sandbag for two hours.

Clark is still alive, but with a little muscle aches.

After a few minutes in the sun, it is probably fine.

This is why Luke is so enthusiastic about training his little cousin.

Since he became stronger and stronger, he couldn't even find a suitable sandbag.

And now, Clark is undoubtedly a good choice.

Who is more resistant to beatings than the Kryptonians?

"Then when can I learn to fly?"

Clark always remembered the beautiful feeling of overlooking the planet from a height.

"When you can resist the gravity of the earth, you can fly."

For true Kryptonians, flying is not an ability.

They can use their tyrannical bodies and biological force fields to get rid of the pull of gravity.

For example, Zod, who was born into the gene template of General Krypton.

The talent of fighting, the leader ability of the team is directly full.

So when he came to the earth, he quickly got used to the atmosphere and gravity.

Like flying, hot sight, you can quickly master it.

"Big cousin, I have something else."

Clark rested for a while, dried off his sweat, then stood up and said.

He recently joined the school's rugby team and can get close to Lana, whom he has a crush on.

Coupled with the daily special training of my eldest cousin, although my waist is sore, he is indeed able to control his body better than before and no longer has to worry about hurting others.

All in all, life is like entering the fast lane.

Everything is so satisfying.

"There may be a lot of strange things happening in the town lately. If it's dangerous, remember to call for help."

Luke smiled meaningfully. He understood the threat of kryptonite to Superman, but he didn't say it straight.

Because telling Clark doesn't make any sense, it only raises more questions.

This small town is Superman's novice village.

He needs to continue to complete tasks and accumulate experience in order to become a beacon of hope for the metropolis in the future.

...

...

Time passed silently like this, between the school and the daily special training of his big cousin, Clark felt that his life was fulfilled.

And the first task he will face is about to happen in a week.

On this day, he accompanied his mother to the town bank to withdraw money.

Thanks to the secret help of the big cousin, the size of the Kent farm has doubled.

The adoptive father Jonathan started to get busy, took out the savings he had saved, and prepared to buy a new batch of farm tools and machinery.

"Seventeen years ago, that meteorite rain hit the town and caused a lot of casualties."

Mrs. Kent smiled and talked about the past. It was when she and her husband were driving home that they found Clark who had fallen from the sky.

Because of that disaster, many families were broken and innocent people lost their lives. Later, the registration of identity became much simpler.

Jonathan took a lot of effort to successfully file with the Population Department and the Social Security Bureau.

Ever since, Clark Kent turned from an alien into an American citizen.

"Mom, thank you for adopting me."

Clark often thinks, what if he didn't fall to a farm in Kansas, but fell elsewhere?

"You gave us hope, Clark."

Mrs. Kent took her son's arm and walked into the bank together.

But before long, two gangsters wearing presidential masks broke in.

"President Kennedy" with a double-barreled shotgun took the lead.

They seemed to be fully prepared, and first sent someone in to step on it.

After observing for a while, the gangster wearing the "President Roosevelt" mask quickly brought down the security inside.

Then standing at the door, the two security guards who were attracted to let the remaining accomplices fall to the ground.

"Don't move! All squat down!"

"President Kennedy" fired a shot in the sky, and did not worry about attracting the police.

Small towns are no bigger than big cities and have strict security measures.

Even if the police station rushed over immediately after receiving the bank's alarm bell, it would take seven or eight minutes.

This period of time was enough for them to fill their two travel bags with banknotes.

In fact, robbery is an illegal job with great emphasis on efficiency.

The goal is to get the most gains in the shortest time.

Those who broke into the bank, got into an accident, and were quickly blocked by the police.

To some extent, they are not professional enough.

"Open the vault and put the money in! Faster, if anyone delays time, I will blow his head with one shot."

The three gangsters quickly took control of the scene. Facing a double-barreled shotgun, the bank staff and the residents of the town obediently hugged their heads and squatted on the ground.

It's like encountering a road robbery, just hand over the wallet honestly, don't try to resist, otherwise you may get a bullet.

"President Jefferson" used a Colt pistol to escort the bank manager and an employee to open the vault to load money.

The other was guarding the door, did the probe go out to scan the situation.

They have a clear division of labor, without the slightest panic, and they are not newbies.

"It's okay, Mom, it will be over soon."

Clark stared at the gunmen. Out of his inner sense of justice, he wanted to jump out immediately to stop these bad guys from committing crimes.

But considering the safety of his mother and the need to hide his identity, Clark can only temporarily suppress his eagerly complicated mood.

When life is under the control of others, every second passes so hard.

The "President Kennedy" holding a double-barreled shotgun seemed to enjoy the feeling of holding life and death in his hand.

The muzzle swept continuously, and every movement caused a whimper with fear.

"Boss, all right."

After a long few minutes finally passed, "President Roosevelt" threw two packed travel bags on the ground.

The headed "President Kennedy" kicked the bag in front of his comrades at the door and let him throw it into the trunk of the car.

He wasn't sure if the police in the town were still on his way, so he raised his hand and looked at the time.

Only eight minutes have passed.

"Choose a hostage and get in the car."

The headed "President Kennedy" carrying a bag of money, said to other accomplices.

"President Roosevelt" holding a Colt pistol gave a quick glance, and selected Mrs. Kent, who was shaking all over and looked terrified.

Female, middle-aged, maybe a housewife...

Such a label will make those policemen feel jealous and dare not do it directly.

The gangster grabbed Mrs. Kent roughly, trying to take her away.

The brother did not know that his path was narrowed.

Even General Zod was crushed on the ground for trying to hurt Superman's mother.

Others do this, and the fate can be imagined.

"Clark!"

Just as Mrs. Kent screamed, Superman, who could no longer bear it, rushed forward like an angry bull with red eyes.

Bang!

Thanks to the daily special training of his eldest cousin recently, Clark did not smash the gangster into a pool of tomato sauce.

Unprepared, he turned his head over the opponent, and the Colt pistol that might pose a "threat" slipped out.

"Fak! You bastard!"

The culprit did not expect that he would capsize the boat in the gutter and let a high school student fall to the ground.

However, before he could do anything, a powerful fist smashed the bridge of his nose.

His cheeks seemed to have been scraped by a steel knife, and large pieces of skin were rubbed off.

This is still the consequence of Clark's strength.

Otherwise, the opponent's head may burst like a watermelon.

Warm blood splashed on his face.

For the first time in a fight with someone, Clark was suddenly at a loss when he saw blood.

He got up in a panic, then saw two gangsters approaching outside the door.

The double-barreled shotgun was aimed at Clark's chest, and the bandit leader wearing the "President Kennedy" mask let out a cruel laugh.

boom!

A cloud of gunpowder dispersed.

Strong kinetic energy and shrapnel hit Superman.

Everyone in the bank covered their mouths, as if they couldn't bear to look anymore.

Such a young life was about to die under the gun of a gangster...it was a tragedy.

Especially Mrs. Kent, she almost fainted due to her emotions.

But after a few seconds, the bloody scene they expected did not appear.

Clark subconsciously glanced at the bullet's chest, only to feel a slight tingling, and he couldn't help but step back.

Other than that, there was no other reaction.

"What the fuck are you a monster?"

Now it was the turn of the bandit leader to be shocked.

The young and young high school student in front of him received a shotgun and was all right?

He didn't believe in evil, and pulled the bolt, ready to do it again.

But Clark didn't give "President Kennedy" this opportunity. He learned a truth from his eldest cousin. Don't let the enemy have any room for counterattack.

In a few steps, he crossed the distance between the two.

Yang held the double-barreled shotgun and pinched it hard!

Crunch!

It makes a toothy metal distortion sound.

The barrel was twisted in an instant.

Bang!

Clark easily snatched the scrapped gun from the gang leader, and threw it on the opponent's head as a baseball bat.

This time, he controlled the force perfectly.

It can be severely concussed at most, but it will never be life-threatening.

The only remaining gangster "President Jefferson" saw this scene, and without looking back, he hurriedly climbed into the car, ignited the engine, and left.

Clark wanted to catch up, then he stopped abruptly.

He can't leave his mother alone in the bank, it may be dangerous.

Ten seconds later, the bank clerk confirmed that the culprit had left, surrounded Clark's side with his head, and looked at him with surprise.

At this time, the super talent realized one thing.

The secret of being a Saiyan, seems to be exposed?

In a hurry, Clark, who was angry and shot, had long forgotten the reminder of his adoptive father Jonathan.

After solving the bank robbery, he remembered that he shouldn't do it.

"You saved us!"

"This kid is a hero!"

"He was not injured..."

"..."

Various sounds squeezed into Clark's ears, and he became a little at a loss, not knowing what to do.

Life became the focus for the first time, and it was also called a "hero".

Clark was not used to it, he carefully pushed away those around him.

Lifting up the frightened mother, preparing to leave.

At this time, the harsh police siren sounded.

The police finally arrived.

But they only saw two gangsters who passed out, and happy bank employees.

How did this happen?

Question marks are all over the policeman's face.

This scene does not look like a bank robbery, but like a carnival party with a certain theme.

"Police officer, that's the kid in school uniform."

Someone pointed to Clark and said.

"Everyone said, did you bring down these two gunmen?"

The fat police officer with a beer belly came over and asked. He observed the scene for a while, intentionally or unconsciously, and found the double-barreled shotgun twisted into a twist.

"You did this too?"

Clark was a little cautious. He scratched his head, not knowing how to explain.

"Don't be nervous, boy, I'm just recording a confession. You prevented a bank robbery and saved everyone present. They are very grateful to you, and the police will also reward you."

The fat police officer was rich in experience, slowed down his tone, wanted to get rid of Clark's alertness, and then began to talk.

"Go ahead, how did you defeat them?"

A high school student brought down two bandits with guns, which sounds like a fantasy.

Clark rolled his throat twice, remembering the words taught by his cousin, and replied: "Police officer, I, I am born with supernatural powers, I knocked them over with just a fist."

The fat police officer's round face suddenly became serious.

"Then this is your natural power?"

He pointed to Clark's chest, a hole in his tattered clothes.

That is the mark caused by the shotgun.