Chapter 4300

Another world spinning. When Clark came to his senses again, he was back in front of the Kent family farm, exactly the same as when he flew to the farm and landed.

Clark stood in place, took a deep breath, then exhaled, and walked in. But in his field of vision, everything was already different.

He first looked at the scattered hay bundles. If he remembered correctly, that thing should be stacked at the very end of the right side of the yard, one on top of another, stacked three or four meters high. And to make these things scatter in the yard, one must go around to the outside of the yard and push them down from mid-air to achieve the current effect.

Pushing them down wasn't enough; this thing was tied very tightly, even if it fell, it would only roll away as a whole. To make these hay bundles scatter completely, one must use a knife to cut the ropes tying them one by one.

Then he looked at the tire tracks. Clark didn't know many types of cars, and he didn't drive often, but he knew that not all cars had the ability to spin in place.

To be precise, most commercial or household cars didn't have such powerful drifting ability to drift back and forth seven or eight times in a small yard, leaving so many scorched brake marks.

Looking at the half-collapsed house again. That side was a warehouse built of stones, which had been there for some years. And the direction the last brake mark pointed to was the load-bearing wall of this warehouse; this warehouse was knocked down by a car.

Don't look at the warehouse being built of stones and having been there for so many years, but in reality, a stone house built by hand in that era was quite sturdy, even sturdier than the wooden board houses built later. It would take some effort to dig with a tractor, and it was even more impossible for it to be knocked down by a car, which was even more impossible for an ordinary household car.

Although he didn't know much about cars, Clark also knew that don't look at those sports cars being very expensive, but that was designed for speed, not for impact. To achieve such an impact effect, it had to be an armored vehicle or a tank.

Immediately after, he walked into the house again. The collapsed dining table wasn't surprising, but the chairs dismantled on the ground were very strange.

If it were a violent collapse, the four legs of the chairs should split outward; even if the center of gravity of the hit wasn't in the center, they should fall to one side. But what kind of hit would make the four legs of the chair leave the chair and fly separately?

Clark turned his head to look at the island counter that had been completely destroyed. This thing was built of bricks; he had participated in building it when he was a child, and even jumped on it. Brick and rock slab, absolutely couldn't be kicked down, at least it would take a hammer to smash it to become what it was now.

And all the unreasonable places above pointed to one answer—this couldn't have been done by that group of terrorists.

First of all, the terrorists couldn't possibly get an armored vehicle. If they had that ability, they wouldn't have been caught by the police station and had to count on Luthor to bail them out.

Even if they could get a modified car, there was no need to spin in the yard. This had no meaning besides wasting time and scaring the target.

Untying the hay bundles could be understood as them wanting to commit arson. However, after taking the person away, how much time would it take to leave a lighter? Since the hay had already been dismantled, there was no reason not to burn it. But the house was safe and sound and hadn't been burned; dismantling the hay was completely a waste of effort.

The same went for knocking down the warehouse. There was nothing important in the warehouse, at most some sundries and tools, and it was an exceptionally difficult stone house. Besides being able to cause certain damage to the car, it had no meaning.

Smashing the table and chairs was even more superfluous. It wasn't a gang showing off; a good kidnapper should come silently and leave silently with the target. Dismantling the house shouldn't be in their scope of business at all, let alone dismantling these old wooden furniture, which couldn't even cause much economic loss.

Smashing the island counter was even more unnecessary. The island counter in the kitchen couldn't hide people, nor could it pose any threat to the intruders. Spending so much effort to smash the island counter, besides being able to present a more shocking visual effect, had no meaning.

Clark also realized that everything the other party did was to present a more shocking visual effect, so that when he saw all this, he would subconsciously feel that everything had been destroyed, greatly overestimating the severity of this matter.

When he flew here with the concept of "some kind of disaster might have happened" in his mind, seeing this scene, he had the feeling that a nightmare had come true. This would give people great stimulation, making him angry, making him lose his reason.

But quite counter-intuitively, the scene of a kidnapping case shouldn't be like this. His mother Martha Kent was just an ordinary human woman, not Wonder Woman. Even if she tried to put up some resistance, it was impossible to dismantle the house like this with the kidnappers.

But if he had a trace of reason at the time, and could move his brain a little bit to think, instead of being completely controlled by emotion, he would have immediately realized something was wrong. Because this scene, in the eyes of a normal person, was a bit ridiculous in its fakeness.

It was as if the person who made all this was afraid that it would be too obscure, causing him to fail to react later, wishing he could do everything that could be done, redundant and unreasonable, trying to use the exhaustive method to make him realize something was wrong.

However, if he had to say which clue was the most important—Clark walked over again and picked up the pot. He remembered very clearly that his mother Martha Kent was someone who extremely hated wasting food.

With a "whoosh," Clark woke up. Fortunately, the ceiling this time wasn't strange; he was still in the military's cell. And having figured out some things, he finally began to calm down.

Now, what he had to do was to get out of here.

This wasn't easy. Because his wounds hadn't healed, he couldn't fly, and couldn't directly punch through the ceiling like before. He still had a certain amount of super strength, but it would probably be very difficult to directly shake the defense of the military base. Not to mention, this was his second time in prison; the other party would definitely keep a close eye on him.

Right, that officer. Clark thought. He didn't think everything he just experienced was a dream he had spontaneously; it must have been that officer who did something.

"Someone! Someone!!!" Clark shouted.

He was indeed being closely watched; not long after he finished shouting, a soldier walked over. Clark said to him: "I want to see your superior!"

After a while, a tall figure walked over. Clark opened his mouth to speak, but when the other party walked over, Clark discovered it was a white man.

"No, not you." he said subconsciously, "Where is that black man?"

"Black man? Where is there any black man?" the tall white officer frowned and said, "Don't play any tricks with me, damn alien. The scientists will be here soon, you won't be able to jump around for long."

After saying this, he turned and left, Clark patted the railing and said: "No, wait! I want to find that black officer! I..."

Suddenly, the conversation between Schiller and that black officer he had heard before flashed through Clark's mind. He seemed to have realized something, stepped back two steps, and sat back on the bed.

No, everything was wrong, everything was wrong. Clark thought, he wasn't here, or did he not exist? How could this be possible?

One puzzle after another, Clark felt his head ache. That kind of familiar anger was about to surge up again, Clark hurriedly took a few breaths and suppressed the emotion.

He couldn't count on others, Clark thought, he had to rely on himself. But, without superpowers, how was he going to get out?

Clark sat there and pondered, but before he could think of it, two soldiers walked in, signaling him to stand up.

They were all fully armed elite personnel, two standing in front, and two holding guns standing behind. Clark pursed his lips and stood up, letting them put handcuffs on him.

Damn it, this thing actually made his wrists hurt. Clark couldn't help but grit his teeth; if his super strength were still there, the handcuffs would be no different from paper.

Being taken out, walking all the way inside, the whole road was the same corridor, Clark could barely distinguish the direction. And then he came to an observation room where one wall was glass, and outside the observation room stood an old man with somewhat graying hair and beard, who should be the scientist in their mouths.

Clark's eyes rolled, and he suddenly had an idea. He took a deep breath and paid more attention to controlling his emotions—this plan could only succeed and not fail, otherwise he would have absolutely no possibility of leaving.

He sat down at the table, and the officer sat opposite him. The other party still looked a bit nervous, but he didn't know that Clark was even more nervous than him.

"Name."

"Clark Kent."

"Human name?"

"Otherwise?"

"Are you really raised on Earth?"

"Of course." Clark took a deep breath and said, "I came to Earth when I was an infant, my parents adopted me and named me Clark Kent."

"Then what is your alien name?"

"I don't know." Clark lied. Actually, he knew; he had seen his father's consciousness, he knew his name was Kal-El, but he really didn't like this name, and he could also see that the officer opposite was trying to induce him to admit he was an alien monster.

"How did you come to Earth?"

Clark closed his eyes and said: "Do you know how your mother got pregnant?"

"Answer my question!"

"I've already answered, I was an infant then, how would I know how I came to Earth?"

"Is this some alien experimental plan? Do they want to use Earth as a petri dish?"

"I'm not a virus," Clark said, "Otherwise you would have died long ago."

That officer still wanted to say something, but Clark seemed to have run out of patience, he said: "I don't have that much time to talk nonsense with you. I believe you have already discovered that there is a large spaceship parked in low Earth orbit. The one I punched to pieces over Metropolis that day was just one of the small escort ships of the main ship, and even this small escort ship is enough to destroy Metropolis."

"They didn't directly use the main ship's main cannon to attack the ground, but sent a small escort ship, because they also wanted to test Earth's strength. So I stood out and punched it to pieces immediately. If this hadn't made them wary, they would have opened fire on Earth long ago."

Clark put his hand on the table and said: "Do you think with your ability, you can shoot down that spaceship? You can't even defend against its attack!"

Clark extended a finger, staring at the officer's eyes opposite, and said: "One shot, only one main ship cannon shot, and Earth will be destroyed. They are wary of my strength now and don't dare to invade rashly, but they won't stay there forever."

Clark stood up, scaring everyone. But he just stood in place and said: "I do have a way to deal with that spaceship, but I only need someone who can be responsible for this matter to talk to me. You'd better not find some idiot who doesn't understand anything—becoming my enemy will only make you lose your last hope."

Everyone looked at each other. The officer still wanted to say something, but he soon heard instructions in his headset and turned and left somewhat unwillingly.

Soon, under the protection of fully armed soldiers, that scientist walked in. Before he had stood still, Clark used all his strength, rushed toward that direction, grabbed the scientist, and strangled his neck.

"Nobody move!!! Otherwise I'll kill him!!!" Clark shouted.

Pitch-black gun barrels immediately aimed at him. Clark tried hard to calm down and said in a cold tone: "The spaceship that can destroy Earth is above your heads; at this critical moment, you can lose countless generals who eat and do nothing, but you absolutely cannot lose a true expert who understands the situation. If you don't want him to die, let me go."

?? When I watched Bvs, I don't know if it was Snyder's requirement or what, the two actors were just like:

? Angry. jpg

? Super angry. jpg

? Super super super angry. jpg

? Super super super super super angry. jpg