Ariel walked down the hallway with a light, buoyant step.
Having entered his body after being enhanced by Kryptonite, Desiree’s pheromones left him feeling a little exhilarated, a little intoxicated.
[King Hyperion Progression: 40% -> 40.08%]
This meant that if Desiree maintained her passive secretion once a day, he wouldn’t even need to go fishing for Kryptonite fragments.
After all, three hundred and sixty-five days would net him twenty-nine point two percentage points.
Combined with his passive daily accumulation from solar radiation…
In theory, he could unlock his second template in under a year.
This was faster than all the progress he had made in the past eight years combined.
Ms.
Desiree Atkins was practically a walking power bank sent by God.
Speaking of which, Ariel felt it was time to start considering the second slot for his template system.
After all, there were far too many superpowered beings in this world worth binding to…
Take Wonder Woman, for instance…
Demigod bloodline paired with Amazonian combat skills.
Though Themyscira’s attitude toward men might be even worse than Joanna’s attitude toward strangers, so he would have to figure out a way to get in.
Aquaman?
Ariel visualized standing on an Atlantis coral throne, holding a morning briefing with a bunch of shrimp soldiers and crab generals…
Yeah…
better skip that.
Martian Manhunter…
Now that was interesting—shape-shifting paired with telepathy, practically versatile in every sense.
Cyborg worked too; a cybernetic body meant he could communicate with any electronic device, making him virtually omniscient in the information age.
He just didn’t know where the guy’s family was making their fortune right now.
Wait, holding that thought…
Would Doomsday work?
Ariel sank into deep thought, trying to imagine how to become friends with Doomsday while pushing open the classroom door.
Only one person remained in the empty classroom.
Lana Lang was sitting in his seat, her long auburn hair draped over her shoulders, her head bowed as she flipped through something.
She only snapped out of it when Ariel reached her desk.
“Has anyone ever told you that it’s rude to go through other people’s things, Captain Lana?
How many times does this make it that you’ve offended me since last night?”
Lana’s shoulders flinched, a trace of guilt flashing in her watery blue eyes.
Quickly, though, she maintained her expression with a small-town girl’s signature stubbornness.
“I’m sorry, Ariel.
These drafts slid out of your drawer, and I just wanted to help you tidy them up.
I ended up getting carried away reading them…
I like reading comics, so…”
This was a lie.
Her heart rate had accelerated.
Ariel couldn’t be bothered to argue with this pushover captain right now, pulling the draft paper from Lana’s hands, gathering the scattered pages, and stuffing them into his backpack.
Just as he was about to swing the backpack onto his shoulder, his super-hearing picked up something.
On the east side of campus, toward the old sports equipment hallway, a set of footsteps was moving in a flanking formation.
Targeting…
Joanna’s heartbeat.
Ariel abruptly shoved his backpack into Lana’s arms.
“Take this home for me.”
“W-What?” Lana sat frozen in her seat.
“Don’t you like reading comics?
From now on, I’ll let you read every single chapter first as payment for helping today.” Ariel was already at the door.
“Captain Lana, don’t fail my trust.”
Lana looked down at the backpack in her arms.
Taking it back to the Kent house meant walking through the wooden gate, stepping across the gravel path lined with sunflowers on both sides, knocking on that yellow wooden door, and then…
Facing the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Joanna.
Lana swallowed hard.
“Don’t lock yourself in the classroom, young lady.”
At the end of the hallway, a white-haired, one-eyed security guard was leisurely pushing a cleaning cart past.
“I’m cutting the power in a bit.”
Lana hugged the backpack tightly and jogged out of the classroom.
She had to deliver the backpack to the Kents’ place before Joanna got home.
The parking lot outside the school gates.
Whitney Fordman had an extremely ugly expression on his face.
Beside him stood three bench players from the football team, serving as a makeshift audience, though their eyes were clearly glued to their phone screens rather than their captain’s venting.
“We’ve lost three games recently,” Whitney gritted his teeth.
“The coach won’t even look me in the eye anymore, like I’ve never fucking existed.”
Nobody responded. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
“And then there’s that Ariel…”
Whitney’s fists clenched tight.
What happened by the lake yesterday had made him lose face in front of the whole school.
The bracelet he gave Lana was casually thrown into the lake by Ariel, and when he tried to fight back, Clark pinned him to the ground like a helpless chick.
Lana hadn’t even given him a second glance, her eyes following a certain blonde boy the entire time.
“Captain.”
A voice came from the side.
Whitney turned his head and saw an unfamiliar boy standing next to him.
“Who are you?”
“A transfer student, just call me Matthew,” the boy said with a warm smile.
“I don’t think you should keep enduring this.”
“What the hell does it have to do with you?” Whitney glared at him in annoyance.
“I just think…
the Kents are way too arrogant,” Matthew said with righteous indignation.
“Especially their sister, Joanna.
You know, she bumped into me in the hallway last week and didn’t even apologize.
The look in her eyes…
made it feel like we were all just bugs.”
Whitney grew even angrier.
“I just saw her heading to the old equipment hallway this afternoon to meet someone,” Matthew lowered his voice.
“There are no security cameras there; it’s a loading blind spot for the school…
If you want to get your pride back, handling one person is a lot easier than handling three.”
Whitney’s eyes dazed for a brief moment before suddenly lighting up.
Right—that ice-cold blonde woman was said to be really strong, but she was just a girl after all…
A girl alone, without her brothers to protect her.
“Let’s go.”
Whitney waved at his two bewildered companions.
Standing in place to watch them leave, Matthew calmly adjusted his collar.
“Note, my ability has taken effect.”
“The target has begun moving.”
The old sports equipment hallway was one of the forgotten corners of Smallville High.
Joanna stood in the middle of the hallway.
Elaine’s text said to wait for her here, but she had been standing for five minutes and there wasn’t a soul in sight.
Frowning, Joanna looked toward the hallway entrance.
“You a Kent?”
Three boys blocked the entrance, with Whitney standing at the front and two bench players sticking to the walls on his left and right.
“Get lost,” Joanna said coldly.
“That tone…
expected nothing less from a Kent,” Whitney took a step forward.
“Your brothers have made me very unhappy lately.”
“What do you want?”
“There are no cameras here—what do you think I plan to do?”
Joanna looked at him, still expressionless.
“I suggest you adopt a better attitude,” Whitney grew even angrier.
“Like starting with an apology, and then telling those two…”
“If you still want to walk out of this hallway with all four limbs intact,” Joanna snapped suddenly, “turning around now is still in time.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Whitney froze for a second.
“She’s my sister.”
A voice came from behind Whitney.
All three turned around simultaneously.
Only to see Ariel Kent leaning against the wall at the hallway entrance, his face veiled in shadow, features indistinct.
Before Whitney could finish speaking, his feet left the ground.
He had been thrown flying into the air?!
The two bench players reacted half a beat faster than their captain, hastily turning to run.
Ariel had no intention of letting them off, though; reaching out, he grabbed both bodies and slammed them together forcefully right in front of him.
The bench players passed out cold.
The captain, meanwhile, crashed onto the concrete floor, kicking up a high cloud of dust.
Whitney tried to brace himself against the wall to stand up, but before his knees could even straighten, a hand pressed down onto the top of his head, gripping his skull.
Whitney felt a surge of terror.
Only now did he snap out of his dazed state.
Why…
why did he ever dare mess with the guy in front of him?!
“Whitney,” Ariel pressed his face into the crack in the wall.
“If you ever dare come near my family again, I imagine you’ll spend the rest of your life lying in a bed at Kansas State Hospital drinking your protein powder through a metal tube.”
Whitney wanted to say something, but with his face rubbing against the wall, he could only manage incoherent whimpers.
BANG—!
Teeth exploded outward, Whitney’s eyes rolled back as his consciousness slipped away, and he slid down to sit against the wall.
Fifteen seconds, finished.
Seeing Joanna revert to her usual cold demeanor, the red glint in her eyes had already dissipated.
Ariel let out a sigh of relief.
Good thing he came fast enough.
Any later, and these three useless trash bags would probably have been packed into three separate plastic bags in pieces for clean-up.
Then Whitney Fordman’s parents would have had to collect a lot of spare parts to give him a decent funeral.
“I’m leaving first, Joanna.”
Without explaining why he showed up, Ariel turned to leave, knowing his sister had always disliked him tailing her.
“Oh, right.”
Yet as he reached the mouth of the alley, the youth hesitated, unable to refrain from adding, “Remember to go home early tonight; don’t play outside too late.”
Joanna’s brows furrowed slightly.
She wanted to say something, but Ariel had already quickened his pace.
“Joanna!”
Hurried footsteps echoed from the other side of the hallway, and Elaine ran up to her, completely out of breath.
“What’s wrong?
Why’d you ask me to meet you here?” Elaine doubled over to catch her breath for two seconds, then raised her head to look around.
Three unconscious male bodies lay on the ground, along with scattered gravel and bloodstains.
“…You invited me over to see your record?” Elaine’s eyes lit up, looking somewhat excited.
“That’s so cool!
Joanna!”
“Didn’t you invite me here?”
Joanna’s voice carried a hint of annoyance.
“Huh?” Elaine straightened up, looking completely bewildered.
“Didn’t you send me a text message…”
“I didn’t send any messages.”
The two girls stared at each other for a moment, Elaine’s expression shifting from confusion to seriousness.
“Someone used your number to send me a fake message to lure you to this spot without security cameras?”
Joanna didn’t answer a question that no longer needed answering.
She pulled her gaze back from Whitney, who was piled on the ground.
“Elaine.”
“Mm?”
“Look up someone for me.”
Elaine blinked.
“Look up who?”
“Ariel.”
Elaine’s expression jumped from serious to utterly baffled.
“…Huh?”
Rooftop.
Matthew knelt on one knee at the edge of the roof.
“Three decoys neutralized, target showed no extraordinary abilities…
but…”
Before he could finish speaking—
HUM—!
A cold arc of light flashed, and before Matthew could even react, his right arm was already parted from him.
“You…
you are—”
Matthew’s pupils shrank, but what followed was…
A second arc of light.
A fountain of blood spurted into the air.
The headless body slumped to the floor.
The orange-and-black figure sheathed his blade, his armor glinting gold in the afterglow of the setting sun.
Holding up the corpse from the ground with one hand, he prepared to turn toward the other side of the rooftop.
“Hold it.”
“…?”
The man turned around, but the figure he saw left him momentarily stunned.
A pumpkin mask covered the newcomer’s face, golden locks fluttering slightly around its edges, while two narrow slits at the eye positions let a reddish-gold glow stream through.
What an evil pumpkin head.
Narrowing his single eye, he was about to speak a warning.
Yet in the very next instant…
The words from the person before him sent a shock through his heart.
“Slade Wilson.”
“Codename: Deathstroke.”