Chapter 1204

Clark was shocked and hurriedly used his super strength to capture the bass that had already flopped onto the ground.

Bruce took a deep breath and touched the side of his cheek. His face didn't hurt, but the wound on his neck began to bleed again.

Clark had no choice but to run to the market service station again to ask for a first-aid kit and bandages to re-bandage Bruce's wound.

"Sorry, our medical conditions here are relatively limited. In your suitcase, there should be that kind of magical spray that works with one spray, right?" Clark said while wrapping the bandage.

"Doesn't the small town have a hospital?" Bruce asked.

"It has one, but there are too many people." Clark shook his head and said: "If we go now, conservatively estimated, we should be able to get in line before September next year."

Just as Bruce was about to speak, Clark guessed what he was going to say, so he said: "Private medical insurance is also useless. The whole small town only has one general practitioner, one intern, and one head nurse. Even the big boss of the insurance company comes, he has to wait in line."

Bruce didn't say anything, just shook his head slightly. He wasn't that arrogant, standing from the perspective of a Gothamite or a big tycoon to criticize the lack of medical resources here.

Kansas is an agricultural state after all. Most of the cities here are not developed enough. Not to mention comparing with Cat Getan, one of the top big cities on the East Coast, even compared with cities in other central states, there is a certain gap.

Now, Bruce understood that everything has its pros and cons. Cat Getan is developed, but development also brings an extremely fast-paced life. A place where even gangs need to internalize, where is there any leisure to drive a tractor to visit the market?

After bandaging his neck, Clark was in a hurry to go back, letting Bruce use that magical bat spray he brought to heal the wound on his neck. But Bruce didn't seem in a hurry at all. He proposed to go to the second-hand market to look around.

Clark seemed a bit surprised. Bruce shook his head lightly and said: "Last night, that is, the first night I arrived here, Gordon called me and said that the Falcone family and Luo Yin took the initiative to mediate the conflict, and both sides asked Gordon to convey their greetings, telling me to get a good rest and not leave any sequelae."

Bruce sighed and said: "Sometimes, what proves your existence is not your existence, but your disappearance."

"When you exist, everyone doesn't realize you exist, or because you exist, they are fearless. And when you are about to disappear or almost disappeared, they realize how important your existence is."

Clark laughed and said: "Thank you. Now I don't have such a big psychological burden for asking for leave from the newspaper office."

The two walked toward the second-hand market together. Clark continued: "My report did indeed set off a trend. Many Metropolis citizens are very curious about the mysterious city next door to them."

"I originally wanted to take this opportunity to add fuel to the fire and write a few more reports, but on the phone, Jonathan and Martha didn't approve of me doing so. Jonathan hopes I can take a long leave and come back to accompany my family."

Bruce turned to look at him, his eyes full of confusion. Clark let out a long sigh, looked ahead, and said: "In my life, there are many such moments. I want to forge ahead and keep moving forward, but Jonathan and Martha persuade me to come back."

"Later, I discovered they were right. What's difficult in this world is not going with the flow, but retreating when the current is strong."

"In this chaotic river of media, how to get more, newer, and more explosive news is actually not difficult. What's difficult is how to be worthy of your conscience at all times, not exaggerating for the sake of eyeballs, and not reporting falsely for the sake of going further."

"When a report is published and wins the eyeballs of the public, attracting everyone's attention, naturally others will dig deeper. Everyone digs deeper than others, and when the facts have already bottomed out, only false fabrication remains."

"Will you fabricate?" Bruce asked, but his tone was full of disbelief. In his understanding of Clark, he was a person who wouldn't lie.

"I don't know." Clark shook his head and said: "But Jonathan and Martha have been avoiding this situation. They didn't treat me as a perfect god who wouldn't make mistakes. They were afraid I would take the wrong path, hoping they could become the reins for me to rein in at the brink of the precipice."

Bruce felt his heart jump. He seemed to have remembered someone and fell into deep thought.

Clark showed a smile, lowered his eyelids, and said: "I am very fortunate that at every critical moment of choice, they were there. Although in your view, I might live too mediocrely, not making decisive choices when any miracle might happen, at least I avoided being clever but being mistaken and hurting others."

"... We're here." Bruce looked up at the second-hand market sign engraved with sunflower patterns.

The two walked in. Bruce discovered that this place was very different from the second-hand market used for selling stolen goods in Cat Getan. Most of the second-hand goods here were some farm tools and various farm machinery parts, and even some livestock.

Clark pointed to a straw hat hanging on an old clothes rack at one of the stalls and said somewhat excitedly: "Look, we don't have to take turns wearing hats when we go back. Hello, how much is this hat?"

"Buy something else, and I'll give it to you for free," the fat farm owner with a cigarette in his mouth said: "Isn't this little Kent? You go out without a hat, weren't you scolded by your dad?"

Several farm owners around began to laugh loudly. Clark waved his hand and said somewhat shyly: "Don't be like that. I'm not a child anymore. I'm working."

"Yeah, we all know that. You got a great job as a reporter at a big newspaper in the big city. That's an amazing job. When do you plan to report on our small town?"

"Wait until another meteorite falls."

Clark took out a roll of money from his slightly faded wide-leg jeans, counted out a few bills and handed them to the stall owner, took the two cigarette holders and the straw hat from his stall, and then waved at him.

Bruce was curious about everything. He pointed to a machine at one of the stalls and asked: "What is this for?"

"Plowing the land."

"And this one?"

"Sowing."

"This?"

"Harvesting."

Bruce kept turning his head, staring somewhat indulgently at those huge tractor parts.

The complex steel structure on it, the sharp blades, and the large and open metal rotating shafts flashed with bright luster in the sunlight, like the cold light flashed by the blade when humans killed the gods who protected the wind and rain.

Until he sat back on the tractor, Bruce was still somewhat lost. Clark pushed him twice, and Bruce turned his head, looking at him somewhat dazed, and said: "If I plant seeds in the ground, they will grow, and then become food, right?"

"Theoretically speaking, that's the case." Clark answered.

"Why is it theoretically speaking?"

Clark pursed his lips. Bruce saw the sad expression he rarely showed on his face. The small-town youth said:

"I once thought so too. Land is the most reliable thing in the world. As long as you sow, you will have a harvest."

"But later, I discovered that not every piece of land has such luck. Sowing with full expectations, waiting for growth steadily, harvesting food, and filling one's stomach—this process is actually a luxury."

"The vast plains of my hometown are extremely rare land in this world where you will have a rich harvest after sowing. And most of the land owned by countries in this world doesn't have such good conditions, or even if they have good natural conditions, they can't plant good seeds."

Bruce also fell into silence. Obviously, both of them thought of the same thing. Bruce thought for a while and then asked: "How is Oliver?"

Clark didn't have many friends named Oliver, so he knew Bruce was referring to Green Arrow. Clark nodded and said, "He's doing okay. Guadalajara is actively striving for autonomy. They have actually controlled a large piece of land and are currently confronting the local government."

"Of course, the domestic media calls them the largest terrorist organization in Mexico so far. For the US and Mexican governments, they are indeed a terrorist organization. They killed many people, but for the people of Guadalajara, they are the defenders of the land."

Bruce fell into deep thought again. Therefore, although the sunshine on the way back was still bright, the atmosphere seemed a bit silent.

The silent atmosphere ended when Clark repeated to Jonathan and Martha in the living room how Bruce was slapped by a bass.

Jonathan held his belly and laughed. He patted the back of the sofa and said: "I said, this is a mistake every young guy will make. Your mom didn't believe it! When we went fishing in the Mississippi River, my cousin and I were slapped into the water by a huge black bass, and I was mocked by your mom for more than half a year."

Martha, who looked a bit thin, chopped off the fish head neatly with one knife. "Thump" made the three men in the living room instinctively tremble.

But this beautiful lady still used that gentle and slow tone and said: "Before we set off, I told you all not to take those big fish as targets. That's very dangerous. Everyone promised well, but changed their faces once they got on the boat. Everyone was shouting to be today's fish king."

"Vanity is also a lesson every young guy must go through." Jonathan tried hard to make up for it.

After another half hour or so, Martha's voice came from the kitchen: "Alright, put the food on the table. You must be hungry, right?"

Clark walked over first. He first put a basin of pea soup and a large plate of fish-filled pies on the table. Jonathan brought fried fish fillets, roasted chicken, and Caesar salad to the table.

Bruce stood at the kitchen door, somewhat at a loss. He didn't know if he should go in. He worried that the strength his arms now possessed was not enough to let the pies and cinnamon rolls reach the dining table smoothly.

In the end, Clark helped him out of the siege. His tall figure squeezed into the kitchen, put the last few dishes on the dining table, and pulled Bruce to sit down.

The atmosphere of eating in the Kent family is very different from Wayne Manor. Everyone in the Kent family likes to talk at the dining table and will burst into laughter from time to time.

Bruce is indeed not very used to talking while eating, but what gives him an even bigger headache is Martha's somewhat terrifying frequency of serving food.

This lady is like every mother in this world—always having a worry: will her child be full?

Martha has some extra love. She attaches great importance to the first friend Clark brought home, fearing that he won't be full.

Bruce tried his best to stuff food into his mouth, but it was to no avail.

Looking at the small mountain of food piled up on his plate, Bruce finally knew why the Bat-Cat became as fat as a ball after staying here for only a few months.