Chapter 4296

A piercing alarm sounded. The black officer standing in front of the monitoring screen turned his head fiercely. Countless fully armed soldiers rushed in one direction. The black officer rushed out of the room, shouting: "Don't go over there!!!"

He rushed in that direction quickly, almost leading everyone else. And when he arrived, the ceiling of the cell had already been broken. Clark Kent was floating in mid-air, his face looking terrible to the extreme.

He just took one last look at the black officer and said in a deep tone: "Remember my warning to you, what's in low Earth orbit is not a friend. Do not approach them, otherwise, you will be responsible for the consequences."

After saying this, he shot into the sky, his figure disappearing over the military base. The black officer froze for a moment, but soon turned to glare at Schiller.

"What did you say to him??!!"

"I said, I can tell you everything I know. It's just, are you sure you want to say it here?"

The black officer clenched his fists. His face was gloomy, his breathing rapid, but he still calmed down and said: "See you in half an hour."

Schiller was expressionless, just sitting there. Before half an hour had passed, only ten-plus minutes, someone came to take him away. Walking out of the cell, passing through the long corridor, just about to reach the end, he heard a fierce argument erupting in the room.

"Is this the result of your coordination?! Now he's run away, who can guarantee he won't go and destroy Earth?!"

"He is an alien who grew up on Earth; he has humanity. Forcing him is the worst result for anyone."

"Aliens have humanity? That's really the biggest joke I've ever heard! They are all a bunch of monsters; on the way here, who knows how many planets they harmed. The only thing humans can use to welcome them is guns and cannons! Understand?!"

"No. You think aliens are all monsters without humanity, just because as long as you label them as monsters, you don't have to consider those complex social and philosophical problems, just raise your gun. And you are a general, and you happen to have a gun in your hand. Load, fire, eliminate the monster, and then go collect a military medal; that's what you want."

"You label a class of people as monsters, and then exchange benefits for yourself by eliminating them. The other party is an alien, a class of humans you have classified as enemies, or even friendly soldiers you think can be sacrificed; there is no difference. You are just used to being so cruel and utilitarian."

"But what I want to tell you is that aliens won't be as powerless as the kin you once harmed and eliminated. Treating them with your high-and-mighty arrogance, all that awaits you is death. Do you think you are harder than the reinforced concrete and iron plates that built this military base? Compared to the alien spaceship he punched to pieces?"

When Schiller arrived at the door, the tall white officer had just rushed out. He looked furious, but his steps were messy, his fingertips trembling. Clearly, what supported his activities wasn't true courage, but the flight instinct brought by fear.

Walking into the room, the door was closed. Only two people were left in the entire room. The black officer turned around with his hands behind his back and said: "I can guarantee that any words we say in this room won't be heard by a third person. Now, Mr. Secret, let's hear what other shocking remarks you have."

Schiller walked slowly to the chair next to the table and sat down. He used his hand to comb his hair, which had been drenched and then become slightly dry, back, took off his suit jacket, untied his tie, and exhaled.

"Compared to me, your remarks just now were the shocking ones. Considering we are currently in a U. S. military base, it's even more shocking. Before I say anything, I want to ask first, is that paragraph just now your true opinion?"

"You act like a reporter, but unfortunately, there are no cameras here. Our words won't be recorded by anything, nor can they be passed out. You'd better not play any little tricks."

"Of course. You should be able to see that I don't have any electronic equipment on me. And, how could I attack an officer who doesn't exist?"

The black officer sighed and said: "You know more than I imagined; I really don't know what kind of freak you are. If you insist on asking me, I will say yes, that is my true opinion. Humans should reflect on themselves before questioning whether aliens are heartless monsters. Don't act as if they are truly guilt-free toward their own kin, because we all know they aren't."

"Very interesting point of view."

"It's not interesting; this is a very serious topic. Humans don't have more right to oppress their compatriots than aliens do; same blood and origin isn't holy water to whitewash evil. If they want to point their guns at aliens with the same attitude to prove that the violence that once oppressed their compatriots was reasonable, then aliens will also prove to them that under the survival of the fittest of social Darwinism, anyone has a day to become prey."

"You want them to understand this point, but it's not easy." Schiller said, "They are used to being hunters; besides turning their guns, they almost don't know how to do anything else."

"That's why I came here. Although I very much hope someone can teach them a lesson, this person cannot be Superman. He is a good kid. People will eventually realize this point, but I don't want them to regret it when they realize it."

"Very great, Mr. J'onn."

The black officer didn't feel any surprise that Schiller called out his name. He just sighed, changed his form, and revealed his green skin. He said: "But, all of this has been ruined by you. I had already persuaded Clark, we would join hands to fight against the invading Kryptonians..."

"No, on the contrary, I saved all of this." Schiller shook his head and said, "You should have understood, it's just that you aren't willing to believe it. Clark Kent has never truly become Clark Kent. He is a god with powerful Kryptonian strength, omnipotent, controlling everything. He is Kal-El; there is a part of that small-town boy Clark Kent in his body, from family affection, from love. But this is not enough."

The green-skinned giant's fists slowly tightened, then he lowered his eyelids and said: "Perhaps you are right. However, how are you going to make him completely become Clark Kent?"

"You know better than anyone, Mr. J'onn J'onzz. How you went from a Martian Manhunter to John Jones on Earth, don't you remember?"

Countless images flashed before J'onn's eyes. His brother's crazy laughter, his wife and children's wailing, endless flames...

Even his breathing carried a few tremors, he said: "That's too cruel. You can't do this. You can't..."

Then he opened his eyes fiercely, his eyes full of Clark Kent's cold-as-ice face when he flew away, staring fixedly at Schiller and saying: "What did you do? What did you do to his family and friends??!!"

When Clark arrived over Smallville, he couldn't believe what he saw. The house belonging to the Kents looked like it had encountered a tornado; the whole house had collapsed halfway, bundled hay rolls were scattered on the ground, the pickup truck had been overturned, there were brake marks from who knows where on the ground, and even the utility poles by the road had fallen.

He froze there, a name echoing repeatedly in his mind. But he didn't dare to call out that name, because reason was telling him that he might not be able to get a response anymore.

He landed and stumbled into the house. The place where he grew up was a mess; the dining table was on the ground, chairs had become fragments, the island counter had been pushed over, pots were smashed on the ground, and oatmeal was smeared everywhere.

Countless pieces of information flooded into Clark's mind, making him dizzy and giving him a splitting headache. That anger that had been accumulating in his chest for a long time finally erupted. His roar went straight to the sky.

A hurricane swept across the entire Smallville. The falling snow within a radius of several kilometers disappeared instantly. Everyone was jolted awake from their dreams, but only saw a figure rising into the sky.

In Luthor Tower, Lex Luthor, who had just hung up the phone, looked ashen. He must have been cursed; otherwise, why would everything go wrong recently?

Just thinking of this, a string in Lex's mind suddenly clicked. Serpent of Frine, Egyptian legend, Tutankhamun, Pharaoh's tomb...

He rushed to the table, opened the computer, and searched for Tutankhamun; sure enough, the first item in the search engine was "Seven archaeologists die one after another—the most terrifying curse of the Pharaoh's tomb."

After clicking in, it was a golden Pharaoh statue. Below the picture was clearly marked "Egyptian Pharaoh Tutankhamun." And this article recounted that the seven archaeologists who had opened Tutankhamun's tomb died young one after another; the saying "Pharaoh's curse" was not without foundation. It's just that everyone who wanted to investigate the curse fell on the road.

"Damn it..." Lex couldn't help but curse. He held onto the last shred of luck and queried the origin of the Serpent of Frine. Very unsurprisingly, this mural was also one of the artifacts produced from Tutankhamun's tomb.

In this article, he discovered more details. There were archaeologists who reported the abnormality of the snake tail gem, but this archaeologist and his colleagues in the same group died in the same year.

Lex hammered the table hard; no wonder that damn liar was eager to get rid of it, this gem was probably really not right.

At this time, he couldn't care about much else, rushed to the laboratory, and took out the box containing the gem. Of course, he knew this thing had radiation and didn't dare to open it rashly. He just wanted to take a photo and ask a real professional about what exactly happened when this thing was unearthed.

Suddenly, with a crash, the floor-to-ceiling window glass shattered all over the floor. A tall figure floated outside the window and then rushed in. The next second, Lex was lifted up by his throat.

What he met was a pair of incomparably cold blue eyes. The handsome face, like an ancient Greek sculpture, was now as cold as an ice sculpture that hadn't melted for ages on a glacier. Lex truly saw killing intent there. Those self-deceiving hypnosis and psychological barriers built for self-protection collapsed in an instant.

He is here, he is powerful enough, he wants to kill me.

Lex Luthor was almost instantly swallowed by fear. He realized that in countless moments of his life, the intelligence and foresight he used to surpass his peers, and even most people in the world, were useless in the face of absolute power.

He was so fragile, vulnerable, and nothing at all.

His brain was blank, leaving only fear, but after fear, was the desire to survive that almost overcame all negative emotions. He didn't want to die, he absolutely couldn't die here, but he had no way, he had no way to resist.

"Where is Martha?" Clark's voice was almost squeezed out from between his teeth.

Lex, pressed to the ground, couldn't speak at all. The large hand clamped on his neck almost twisted his neck off; there was no space for his vocal cords to vibrate, he couldn't even make a scream, let alone meaningful words.

He could only struggle helplessly. The desire to survive rolling in his brain almost twisted into a cross, and at this moment, his twitching left little finger suddenly touched something cold. He tried hard to grope in that direction, and then, relying on instinct, grabbed that thing and smashed it toward Clark.

The next second, Clark let out a scream, and a thick smoke rose from behind him. He was knocked down almost instantly. The situation reversed.