Chapter 4299

The world spun. After a violent dizziness, Clark found himself back at the Kent family farm.

He didn't know what had happened, just stood helplessly in a pile of ruins, looking around blankly. The last sentence that officer said to him echoed in his mind; he heard it, but he couldn't understand it.

"Search..." he heard a voice again. "Go search..."

"Search for what?!" he asked.

"Go find..."

Anger swallowed his reason again. Clark let out a roar, he hammered the wall forcefully with a fist, and shouted: "Tell me!!! What am I going to find!!!"

No one answered him. It was like the night the little lamb died; he stood alone in the wheat field, the surroundings were so quiet that it was as if the wind didn't exist, and even his roar, like listening to the Earth's pulse from outside the infinite universe, was too weak to be worth mentioning.

People always hear the inner echo more clearly when they are in despair. Everything, every choice, they can always hear that voice in the dark from the boundless disturbance and the tsunami of emotions. However, regarding death, people always drown in silence and pass away in silence. Death makes humans experience the power of "forever" for the first time.

Clark ran out, ran out of the Kent family farm, and ran to the road at the door. But just as he crossed the road, he found there was an invisible wall there. No matter how he hammered and called, this high wall remained motionless.

Then he found that the farm was full of such transparent high walls, and he couldn't leave at all. He roared at the sky, kept asking, ran non-stop, without any effect.

Finally, he stopped, returned to the messy living room, curled up on the sofa, hugged his legs with his arms, buried his face in, only those blue eyes exposed, staring blankly in one direction.

He began to recall repeatedly, that moment like thunder. He wanted to grasp that feeling, but it wasn't easy. Too many things echoed in his brain; to grasp the feeling brought by that moment of intuition was like finding a needle in a haystack.

Clark began to recall that night again. Batman sat opposite him, behind him was the firelight of the swaying fireplace. That was a rare quiet night, the weather wasn't so cold, and everything appeared so peaceful.

"You want too much..." Clark heard Batman say: "Those responsibilities you choose to bear will drive you crazy, until you make a big mistake."

Clark had never thought about the deep meaning of this sentence. He just thought Batman was blocking him, he thought Batman didn't want him to use his superpowers to help others.

But at this moment, he finally heard another meaning in this sentence that kept echoing in his mind.

Clark never felt that the responsibilities he wanted to bear were greater than his abilities, because his abilities were really too strong. He could easily be responsible for the life safety of everyone in the world, at least he thought so himself.

With great power comes great responsibility. However, what if his ability wasn't as great as he thought?

Or, what if what he was pursuing was infinite responsibility? Then no matter how strong the power, it couldn't match the responsibility he wanted to bear. At this time, what would happen?

Just like now, he was wounded, almost lost his superpowers, but he had responsibilities he had to complete; he had to save his mother. How was he now?

Just at this moment, Clark saw that lightning, grabbed that piece of feather. A fleeting moment, a glimpse of light.

Anger.

He was very angry.

He was always very angry.

Clearly, when he found Lex, he should have forced him to ask Martha's whereabouts first, instead of using violent means to vent his anger on him.

Clearly, Diana saved him, he should have cooperated with her, instead of losing his temper because he didn't understand her situation at all.

All of this was because of that ubiquitous anger. He was blinded by anger, made wrong choices in almost every step, which led to things developing to this point today.

No, no, no, Clark thought, even earlier than that.

He shouldn't have punched that alien spaceship to pieces at all, especially not in full view of everyone, using such violent means to solve the alien spaceship. This was completely stimulating the human government.

He shouldn't have carried the wreckage of the spaceship to stimulate those Kryptonians either. Clearly, they sent a small spaceship over because they didn't want to alert the enemy, which proved they hadn't wanted to invade Earth by force at that time. He did this, only intensifying the contradiction between the two sides.

What drove him to do this?

It was anger. A kind of anger that had been accumulating since that instance, like a tsunami, like an avalanche. Every slight vibration was preparing for the subsequent collapse.

Clark didn't know why he was like this. When Batman's words echoed in his mind, he had a flash of inspiration, but still didn't grasp the key.

But at least he understood now that he had lost his reason a long time ago. Things developing to this point today were entirely his own fault.

However, he had no time to feel sorry for himself; he had to get rid of the angry emotions as soon as possible, he had to recover his reason, at least figure out what he had done wrong first.

Clark straightened up, sat on the sofa, supported his knees with his hands, and whispered: "Alright, Clark, think fast."

Too many messy elements in his brain, Clark had to eliminate them one by one. The most important thing now was to find Martha; he had to find clues about Martha first.

First, Lex Luthor. How exactly did he offend him?

Even if he was a despicable villain who did all kinds of evil, he at least had to have a reason to target him.

After excluding everything impossible, Clark only found one reason, which was that he appeared and punched the spaceship to pieces that day, which might have been seen by Lex Luthor.

He carefully recalled the orientation at that time; judging from the geographical location of Luthor Tower, it could indeed face the accident scene directly.

So, just because of this?!

Clark didn't understand; he didn't punch a human spaceship, he beat up his own kin, what was Lex Luthor in such a hurry for?!

No, that's not right. Clark thought next, the mentality of such people couldn't be judged by common sense. The Luthor Group had a lot of money and many industries; they must be afraid of war, especially wars that would happen over their heads. Similarly, they must be afraid of aliens.

Because if aliens invaded Metropolis, the biggest loss would be them. Buildings would be knocked down, factories would be destroyed; what boss wouldn't be afraid of these?

Alright, it could be considered a reasonable reason, Clark thought. Just because he was afraid of aliens and had to find their weaknesses, he targeted Martha.

In terms of how he found his identity information and how he found Martha, Clark didn't need to think carefully at all. Although he was just a small-town boy, he also knew that such rich people were all-powerful. If they wanted to check, there was nothing they couldn't find.

Alright, next, how did he kidnap Martha?

Clark began to pace in the living room, thinking while walking. Schiller of this universe had already told him the whole process. Luthor bailed out a group of notorious kidnappers, let them go to Smallville, Kansas, to find someone named Martha Kent, and kidnapped her.

And then? And what else?

Clark was somewhat blank. This was the whole process, so where would this group of terrorists take Martha?

Clark racked his brains, but didn't come up with any clues. Who knew where they would want to take her after kidnapping her?!

Clark kept walking back and forth in the living room, standing up and sitting down, going out and coming back, sometimes lying on the sofa, sometimes half-kneeling on the ground, as if this could make his super brain a bit brighter.

Don't know how much time passed, it seemed like a century, Clark felt his thinking had stalled. He lay on his back in the middle of the living room, staring at the somewhat dilapidated chandelier in a daze.

Suddenly, he heard a movement. His hearing was exceptionally sensitive at this moment, because this space was completely quiet; any sound would be particularly noticeable.

He hurriedly climbed up from the ground, turned his head, and froze.

Jonathan Kent stood in the middle of the living room looking at him.

"Dad!" he shouted.

"Long time no see, Clark, are you okay?"

"I..." Thousands of words condensed in Clark's chest, but finally only turned into one sentence: "... not bad."

"That's good, you're very smart, you must be doing well in the big city."

"I..." Clark didn't know what to say. He stood cautiously in the middle of the room, rubbing his hands, turning his head to one side.

Then he couldn't help but look at his father, looking at that familiar face, and the happy family life of the past began to flash before his eyes.

Every morning, he would wake up in the fragrance. Just by smelling the scent, he could know that Martha was cooking oatmeal today, or making a sandwich. Clark preferred oatmeal; the oatmeal and milk would be cooked into a sticky mess, put a big spoonful of sugar, and after drinking a bowl, it seemed like he could finish a day's work just like that.

Wait, oatmeal...

Clark turned his head to look at the kitchen; he flew toward it like crazy, picked up the pot that had fallen to the ground, and looked at the oatmeal splashed all over the ground in shock.

No footprints were left here, but on the ground, these spilled oatmeal couldn't even fill this pot.

Clark looked down at the pot of porridge he was cooking again, then looked at the porridge on the ground; this made him even more certain that the ones spilled on the ground couldn't even fill a bowl, let alone a pot.

Why? Where did the rest of the porridge go???

Clark put down the pot, then looked at the island counter that had been smashed, the dining table and chairs that had been dismantled into eight pieces. He rushed out of the door again, looking at the messy brake marks on the ground, the hay bundles scattered everywhere, the highway that seemed to have been swept by a tornado, and the utility pole that had already snapped.

Oh my god. Clark breathed rapidly, as if he had never seen this scene before.

He had indeed never seen this scene. To be precise, the part of his super brain that managed reason hadn't seen it; only the part that acted on emotion had seen it, only anger had seen it.

And when the angry Clark Kent saw these, he would only become even angrier. It was precisely because he saw this terrifying broken scene that Clark lost his last shred of reason, and didn't even have the reason to stay here to search, heading straight for Luthor Tower to vent his anger on Lex Luthor.

However, now the rational Clark Kent stood here, and he suddenly realized that everything here was wrong.

This wasn't right, that wasn't right, not a single place was right.

Clark stood in front of the farm house that had collapsed halfway, feeling that this world was so absurd he wanted to laugh, and his own stupidity made him want to laugh even more. Just as he was crying and wanting to laugh, someone patted him on the shoulder from behind.

Clark looked back, his father Jonathan Kent stood behind him and said to him: "Go find it."