Outside, raindrops pattered against the window, while inside, the light cast a warm glow over the dining table.
Snapping out of his earlier excitement, Dio gracefully sliced off a small piece of beef with his knife and fork, his eyes narrowing slightly in satisfaction.
“Father,” he spoke up suddenly, a tinge of curiosity in his voice.
“If you could have instantly destroyed that robot last night, why did you bother using a shotgun and dynamite?”
Clark snapped his head up as well, the same confusion glinting in his blue eyes.
He had been dying to ask this question for a while.
After what happened last night, he was certain Uncle Rock was no ordinary man.
Like them, he was a metahuman endowed with special powers.
Even if the two of them had been hiding it from him, that didn’t mean Clark was stupid!
Rock’s hand paused on his fork, clearly not expecting Dio to bring this up so suddenly.
He smiled warmly, his gaze slowly scanning between the two boys.
After a moment of silence, he set down his utensils and said in a serious tone, “The greater the power, the more precious self-restraint becomes.”
Dio’s brows furrowed, clearly dissatisfied with the answer.
“Dio, Clark,” Rock continued.
“Just because we possess power doesn’t mean we should arrogantly discard the principles of being human.
Relying on our powers to solve every problem will only lead us away from our true selves.”
“I don’t agree,” Dio huffed, poking at the beef on his plate with his fork.
“If you have the ability to solve something directly, why deliberately do it like an ordinary person?”
“It’s not being deliberate,” Rock shook his head.
“It’s a choice.”
“Power is a tool, not an identity.”
“If we separate ourselves from ordinary people, a day will come when we forget how to think like a human.”
“The arrogance brought by power deprives you of the ability to think.” His gaze fell onto Clark, and he added meaningfully, “And the true strength of humanity lies squarely in its wisdom.”
In plain English:
*Use your brain more.
You can choose to use super strength, but Uncle Rock strongly suggests you try using your human wisdom first.*
“Then didn’t you end up using super strength in the end anyway, Father?” Dio grumbled.
“You couldn’t restrain yourself either.”
“Wrong, Dio,” Rock shook his head.
“It was simply because my wisdom told me that was the moment to use super strength.”
“…”
Clark was lost in thought at those words.
He could feel Rock’s gaze locked firmly onto him when he said that last sentence.
There seemed to be a reminder in that look, as well as a glimmer of expectation.
It was enough to make him forget to ask what the “super strength” they mentioned actually was…
Dio twitched his lips in annoyance.
Though his face still wore a dismissive expression, his movements slowed down—he, too, was contemplating the meaning behind those words.
Watching the two boys absorb his words, Rock felt a wave of satisfaction swell in his chest.
Perhaps this was one of the scenes he cherished most since transmigrating into this The World.
—An ordinary, mundane happiness, filled with the warmth of everyday life.
Even the Stone Mask hanging on the fireplace behind them trembled slightly at the scene.
Morning sunlight had just pierced through the curtains when the sharp ringing of the telephone shattered the farm’s tranquility.
Frowning, Rock reached out from under the blankets and fumbled for the receiver of the vintage landline phone on the nightstand.
His voice was gravelly, clearly not fully awake yet.
“Rock!
You finally answered!”
An excited voice, almost cracking from energy, boomed over the receiver.
“A big boss is coming to town today to inspect produce purchases!
Do you want to come take a look?
If you wait any longer, the wheat in your barn is going to go moldy!”
Rock rubbed his eyes and yawned.
“Anthony, you know my wheat never has trouble selling.”
“This time is different!” Anthony spoke with breathless speed.
“They’re offering 1.3 times the market price!”
“Hurry up and get over here!
The big boss’s helicopter is about to arrive.”
“Oh, and remember to bring Dio!
Word is the big boss has a son, probably around the same age as Dio.”
*Click!*
The line went dead.
Rock held the receiver in confusion for two seconds, then raised an eyebrow.
1.3 times?
No wonder Anthony was so hyped up.
As the middleman, if this deal went through, his cut would equal an entire month’s usual income.
And to be honest, a 30 percent markup was genuinely tempting.
Rock stretched lazily, a faint smile curling his lips.
He had wanted to replace his pickup truck for a long time now.
That old Ford was practically falling apart; every time it started, it coughed like a tuberculosis patient.
“Boys!”
Rock swung himself out of bed and clapped his hands loudly.
“Wake up!
We’re heading into town today!”
The moment the words left his mouth, a rustling noise immediately echoed from the adjacent room.
Dio appeared at the doorway with a messy mop of golden hair, sleep lingering in his red eyes, but his expression already wore its usual pride.
“Going into town?”
“Awesome!” Clark bounced right off his bed, his head nearly hitting the ceiling.
“Didn’t Uncle Rock say yesterday that Mom and Dad were in town too?”
“You two…”
Rock shook his head with a chuckle, pulling out a dark blue plaid shirt from the wardrobe that he only wore for important occasions.
“Go get washed up.
Dio, comb your hair.
Clark, don’t wear those mud-splattered overalls—yes, the ones you’re sneakily trying to pull on right now.”
Clark sheepishly lowered his pants, while Dio let out a soft huff and turned around to grab a comb.
Half an hour later, Rock’s old Ford pickup spewed black smoke as it rolled onto the country road.
Dio sat in the passenger seat, his blond hair fluttering gently in the morning breeze.
Clark leaned against the bed of the truck, excitedly watching the golden wheat fields recede on both sides of the road.
“Father,” Dio said suddenly.
“Where did this big boss come from?
Why offer such a high price out of nowhere?” This chapter is updated first at g.com.
“No idea.
Anthony was vague about it,” Rock said, holding the steering wheel with one hand.
“I’m curious too.
Generally speaking, big buyers who show up out of the blue like this…”
He left the sentence unfinished, but Dio already understood the implicit meaning.
When things seem too good to be true, something fishy is going on.
“Uncle Rock,” Clark poked his head out from the truck bed, asking innocently, “could it be a big company like Wayne Enterprises from Gotham City coming to buy produce?”
“When they came last time, Mom and Dad were thrilled for a whole week.”
Rock paused for a second in silence.
Could he be overthinking it?
“Clark,” Rock turned his head.
“You’re right.
We shouldn’t judge the intentions of noble men with…”
“…the hearts of scoundrels,” Dio finished with a sigh.
“I’ve heard you say that so many times my ears have calluses.”
Is he already getting tired of my nagging?
Rock felt heartbroken for half a second.
Then he stepped hard on the gas, making the old Ford roar under the strain as it sped up toward town.
The old Ford pickup wobbled into town, its tires creaking over the cobblestone streets.
Slowing down, Rock scanned the shops lining both sides of the street.
Rock needed to find Martha and Jonathan first.
During their phone call earlier, they had mentioned they were having breakfast at a café.
The shop’s name was easy to remember—”The Golden Ear”—and right next to it was the town’s only flower shop.
Connecting those two details, he quickly spotted his destination at the street corner.
“We’re here, boys.”
Rock pulled the truck up to the curb.
With the ignition turned off, the old Ford let out a sigh of relief.
*Pfft!*
A small cloud of black smoke puffed from the exhaust pipe.
“There they are.”
A faint smile touched the corner of Rock’s mouth.
Through the café’s glass window, he could clearly see Jonathan and Martha sitting by the window.
Jonathan was adding sugar to his coffee, while Martha smiled as she chatted, holding a half-eaten blueberry muffin in her hand.
Pushing open the truck door, Rock turned to the two boys and said, “Come on, let’s grab breakfast first.”
“I’m not hungry, Father.”
Dio stepped gracefully out of the cab, landing softly, and casually tidied his shirt collar.
Clark, on the other hand, leaped straight down from the truck bed.
His landing shook the ground with a faint thud, making a few passersby turn back in surprise.
*Is that kid really that strong?*
“Quietly, Clark,” Dio threw him a look of disdain.
“Are you trying to attract the whole street?”
“Sorry, Dio,” Clark scratched his head sheepishly.
“I was just so hungry…”