Saeko did not know how long she had been speaking.
She only remembered speaking in fragments, pouring out bit by bit those secrets hidden deep within her heart that she had never revealed to anyone.
From beginning to end, Superman simply listened quietly; he did not interrupt her, showed no expression of surprise or disgust, and did not even frown once.
Those blue eyes constantly gazed at her gently, as if listening to a child recount the most trivial grievances in her heart.
This quietness itself made her feel safer than any comfort.
Saeko also did not know how long she had spoken.
She only knew that when the last word fell, the blockage in her chest that had lasted for a long time seemed to loosen a bit.
It had not disappeared, but at least it no longer pressed down on Saeko so hard she couldn’t breathe.
Then Saeko raised her head, meeting those eyes.
The words had been spoken, and now it was her turn to face judgment or so she thought.
Such a sunny, upright Superman, after listening to that pile of dark confessions of hers, how would he view her?
Would he be disappointed?
Would he find her disgusting?
Or would he politely keep his distance and then find an excuse to leave?
Saeko’s fingers unconsciously clenched the corner of her clothes.
“Thank you for being willing to tell me these things.”
There was no judgment, no lecturing.
His tone was a few shades lighter than before, not like treating someone who needed to be corrected, but rather like thanking a hard-won trust.
“You’ve hidden these things in your heart for a long time, haven’t you.” Ultraman looked at her, that smile still gently reflecting in Saeko’s eyes, “Carrying them all by yourself must have been very exhausting.”
Saeko’s throat felt as if it were blocked by something…
It wasn’t just being exhausting; it was that it had been too long so long that she thought these secrets would rot in her heart and go to the grave with her.
“I know someone…” Ultraman’s voice was steady and gentle, his gaze shifting away from Saeko toward the setting Sun far away on the horizon.
“His power is greater than anyone’s. But the first time he discovered he could hurt others, he also felt afraid…”
Ultraman had already sorted out the situation before him in his mind.
This girl’s problem, to put it bluntly, was thinking too much…
In her World, which still talked about basic morality, this slight psychological fluctuation was treated as a “dark side”; if she were to take a glance at his World…
That Earth-3 where superheroes were all supervillains and any random passerby on the street might be plotting how to stab you she would probably doubt her whole life on the spot.
In a World where everyone was truly evil and morality was generally low, a person with a conscience would instead be regarded as a saint.
And someone like Saeko, placed on Earth-3, could probably directly become a star of morality.
But Ultraman couldn’t say that.
He was Superman now; Superman wouldn’t say “What does this little thing of yours count for, there are way more perverts on my side than you.” Superman would say
“It’s not fearing that one will be hurt…” Ultraman slowly raised his head, looking at the Sun in the sky, “Rather, it’s fearing that deep inside one’s heart, there was even a fleeting moment of wanting to use this power to satisfy the darkness within.”
Saeko’s breathing paused slightly.
“This fear itself precisely proves that he is not a bad person.” Superman’s voice was not loud, yet it clearly transmitted into Saeko’s ears, word by word, as if gently putting something back in its original place.
“What truly should make people worry are those who hurt others yet never feel that there is anything wrong with themselves.”
He was not comforting her, not saying “It’s fine, you’re thinking too much.”
Superman was telling her that her fear itself was the answer; she was afraid of becoming a bad person and real bad people wouldn’t be afraid at all.
Ultraman slowly stood up, his Super Hearing telling him that the students in the teaching building were still afraid.
Someone was crying, someone was praying in a low voice, someone was hugging their phone and repeatedly dialing a number that wouldn’t go through.
The broadcast had stopped, and teachers were whispering uncertain information in the corridor.
This World would still need some time to recover from today’s fear, but at least, the worst situation had been controlled.
“You said you like the feeling during combat.” Ultraman pulled back his thoughts, bringing the topic back onto Saeko, his tone still even, “Even anticipating the feeling of slaughter I don’t think there is anything shameful about this.”
Saeko raised her head, a trace of confusion flashing in her eyes.
“When this feeling is needed, your body reacts a step ahead of your reason.” Ultraman continued, “This is not darkness; this is your instinct. Instinct has no right or wrong; the key lies in where you use it.”
Ultraman turned around and smiled at Saeko.
This smile was not a performance; he truly remembered a scene from not long ago this girl rushed out of the school gates, holding a knife, and without hesitation stood in front of a stranger.
At that time he hadn’t even shown the S symbol; in her eyes he was just an ordinary passerby trapped among a swarm of zombies.
“Today, you used this ability to protect others.”
Saeko’s pupils dilated slightly.
“If you were really as dark as you imagine yourself to be,” Ultraman’s gaze landed earnestly on Saeko’s face, his tone gentle yet resolute, “then you wouldn’t be sitting here right now, feeling distressed over this matter.”
Ultraman paused for a moment, and then uttered words that he felt he would probably never say to anyone else in his lifetime:
“You are a good girl. Facing the darkness within one’s heart is an experience everyone will have. But as long as you still possess those wonderful qualities kindness, the courage to step forward for others, and self-reflection there is no need to fear.”
Hearing these words, Saeko suddenly felt as if something inside her chest was gently lifted up.
It was not wild joy, nor sudden enlightenment, but a quiet sense of relief that only appeared after being understood.
Saeko nodded earnestly and forcefully.
“Thank you, Superman.”
Ultraman merely nodded and said no more.
Ultraman silently complained to himself in his heart: bluffing someone with words.
Coming from the mouth of a fake like him, these words were truly unbearably cheesy.
If a real Superman were saying them, it would probably be very natural; after all, that was his original personality.
And him a tyrant ruling over supervillains in this terrible World, conducting moral counseling for a high school girl here no matter how he thought about it, it felt awkward, but the effect seemed okay…
The Chat Group’s light screen lit up in a corner of his vision.
[Jina]: Superman, Saeko, are you guys okay?
[Saeko]: Mn.
Although society is still somewhat chaotic right now, it has basically stabilized.
The government is organizing unified resettlement and screening, and we don’t need to wander around everywhere as might have originally happened.
[Jina]: That’s great!
That means your World won’t turn into an apocalyptic World! New chapters come out on g.com first.
Superman is truly amazing!
[Mami Tomoe]: As expected of Superman.
Truly a gentle and powerful person.
[Superman]: I simply did what I could do.
[Jina]: What you “could do” has kept a society stable, allowed more people to save their lives, and prevented more families from experiencing separation and pain.
This can’t be summed up by just the word “simply”.
Jina smiled at the screen, and then her gaze involuntarily drifted toward the pile of supplies in the room that she had frantically purchased earlier.
Compressed biscuits, bottled water, medical packs, disinfecting alcohol, neatly stacked across more than half the corner of the room, enough to eat for several months.
Now it was good, the zombie crisis was nipped in the bud by Superman, the apocalypse didn’t come, and all these supplies ended up stuck in her hands.
[Jina]: But those supplies I bought earlier seem like they won’t be needed anymore.
Great, I won’t have to buy things for a long time coming.
[Saeko]: Jina, you bought these just to help me.
Please let me pay you the corresponding compensation afterwards.
[Jina]: No no no, this was voluntary!
I wanted to help you myself, how could I let you spend money.
[Superman]: In order not to let resources go to waste, I can also buy a portion.
Although I am only a reporter, I should still have some savings.
When Ultraman typed out this line of text, his expression didn’t change.
A reporter.
Yes, Clark Kent was a reporter with a meager salary, but Kal-El was not.
Ultraman was the actual ruler of Metropolis, and his assets under his name were enough to buy nearly half the city.
But Ultraman couldn’t possibly say “It’s fine, I have a building and half the city’s tax revenue.”
“Should still have some savings” Ultraman almost believed these words himself.
Ultraman glanced at the time countdown displayed on the Chat Group interface.
The remaining stay time from points exchange was almost up, and he was about to go back soon.
Returning to that World where the symbol on the chest was U instead of S…
Ultraman moved his gaze away from the light screen, scanning the city beneath his feet once more there were a few plumes of thick smoke, faint sounds of sirens, but the overall skeleton was intact.
It wouldn’t turn into an apocalypse; humanity in this World would have to rely on themselves from now on.
Saeko watched that red and blue figure float back into the air, the sunset spreading out a large patch of warm orange color behind him.
Saeko took a step forward and spoke earnestly: “Superman, after things stabilize here, please be sure to come to this World again. I will do my best to properly host you.”
Ultraman turned around, looking at this girl who had just bared her deepest secrets to him.
Her gaze was different from just now—not wild joy, not adoration, but a quiet yet firm solemnity.
Ultraman gently shook his head, revealed a smile, and then he disappeared.