Chapter 4311

Later that evening, it snowed in Gotham again. It was just sleet. The sound of this kind of weather was particularly different; it wasn't as dense as the sound of rain, nor as quiet as a snowy day. It sounded like a rapid drumbeat, and when the ice crystals hit the window, it was like crystals on a crystal lamp constantly shattering.

The firelight in the fireplace kept swaying. The entire manor was still so empty and quiet. Clark really couldn't stand this deathly silence. He hadn't been sitting for long before he couldn't help but ask: "Is there a coffee machine? I want to make a cup of coffee."

"Alfred is back on vacation, I'm sorry no one is entertaining you. The coffee machine is in the kitchen," Bruce said without looking up.

Clark stood up and went to the kitchen to make coffee. As soon as he opened the cabinet, all the coffee beans in the world kissed him. He took out a bag, didn't recognize this language; took out another bag, it looked like cat food; took out another bag, it smelled like the Minnesota pickles his mother made; finally took out a bag, and it finally looked like coffee beans.

But the problem was that this was a brand new bag of beans. Looking at the production date, it seemed to have been transported from Africa yesterday. This thing was well-sealed, so it needed scissors. Clark turned around in the kitchen for a long time, but only found kitchen scissors.

He knew that such wealthy families were very picky: scissors had to be divided into those for cutting vegetables and those for cutting meat, and knives had to be divided into those for cutting raw food and those for cutting cooked food. He felt that he couldn't take the kitchen scissors hanging with the kitchen knife to cut the coffee bean packaging, so he searched in the cabinet again.

After searching for a long time, he didn't find scissors, but found a peeler, which looked like it hadn't been used for a long time. Clark turned to look at Bruce, feeling that he could take the blade of the peeler off to use.

He swore he really just pulled the blade out lightly, but the entire head of the peeler was pulled off by him. He looked at Bruce again, and the other party was still working very focused.

Clark thought about it, if it were at his house, he would choose to use his teeth. But it was clearly not possible at Wayne Manor; he needed a more elegant way to open the coffee bean packaging.

"The scissors are in the utility room in the back," Bruce's voice came, giving Clark a big fright.

Afterwards, he wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into. Clark Kent, what exactly are you doing! Can you not behave like a silly hick in front of Batman?!

Clark walked to the utility room, and then he found that this matter really couldn't be blamed on himself. This utility room was about half the size of his house. The door was made of polished walnut, and there was even a golden, shiny hook stuck on it. He had passed by this door several times, but never thought it would be a utility room.

After pushing the door open, he seemed to have come to the warehouse of Costco. The shelves contained all the tools a human might use in their lifetime. Just scissors alone hung on an entire wall. Clark even found a medical cesarean section scissor on it. He didn't know under what circumstances Batman would use it, and didn't dare to think about it in detail.

Picking the most ordinary one, he finally walked back to the kitchen and cut open the coffee bean packaging. Then he encountered a new trouble—this coffee machine looked even more advanced than the spaceship he blew up that day. He didn't know where to add the coffee beans.

He turned to look at Bruce again. The other party simply seemed to have telepathy and said: "The second button on the side."

Clark sighed in his heart; this coffee machine probably had more than twenty sides. But he was really too embarrassed to ask again, so he decided to try.

He found a button that looked like it was the right one. After he pressed it, the coffee machine made a terrible noise he couldn't understand at all, followed by a series of changes he couldn't understand. By the time Bruce walked over, Clark had already hidden in the corner of the kitchen wall.

He wasn't worried that the coffee machine would explode; he was worried that Bruce would explode.

Bruce walked over, operated it on top, and the coffee machine stopped. Clark breathed a sigh of relief, fortunately it wasn't broken. This coffee machine looked like it was worth all the salary of his second half of his life, or maybe it wasn't that cheap.

"What's wrong with it?" Clark asked.

"Automatic cleaning," Bruce answered very briefly. Then he opened the cabinet door above, and inside was a separate small machine. He pressed the side of the coffee machine, the lid of that machine opened, and then he poured the coffee beans in.

He took a cup and placed it at the liquid outlet of the coffee machine. Clark subconsciously asked: "Aren't you drinking?"

Bruce shook his head, and then walked back to the sofa and sat down. Clark craned his neck to look at him, and after that cup of coffee was filled, he took another cup and placed it at the liquid outlet, then imitated Bruce's operation just now and filled another cup of coffee.

He put the two cups of coffee on the tray and brought them to the coffee table. Seeing that there were two cups of coffee, Bruce looked up at him.

"Uh, I just feel that it's not good for me to drink alone." Clark's hand rubbed hard on his pants.

"Are you worried that I'll poison you?"

"What?" Clark was a bit blank.

And Bruce picked up the coffee and said to himself: "I'm glad I don't have to put on a full surgical suit to cause such suspicion from you."

Clark rubbed his face hard and said: "That was just an accident. Schiller really looked like a doctor, he looked very professional. I'm not joking."

"Maybe he really has a resume as a doctor," Bruce didn't refute him either, but followed his words and said, "But this is exactly what's strange."

Clark didn't quite understand. But just at this time, the screen lit up. His attention was turned to the picture on the screen. At first it was a bit blurry, there was a bright spot in the corner of the screen, and then the spaceship soon appeared in the center of the screen.

Seeing the content on the screen, Clark couldn't help but cover his face. Why didn't he notice when he went to throw the wreckage before that this spaceship was designed no differently from streaking?

More than half of the central cabin of this spaceship was a huge floor-to-ceiling glass window. The lighting effect was very good, and the entire central cabin looked very bright, but the problem was that one could see everything here at a glance.

The most outrageous thing was that this group of people didn't seem to realize this, and just stood in the center talking, as if they were afraid that others wouldn't see their lip movements and expressions.

Clark sighed. He saw Bruce zoom in on the lens a bit. He could clearly see the tall man standing in the center outputting something at a fast speed.

Clark was originally just looking at his expression, but as he watched, he found that he could understand what the other party was saying. To be precise, he could understand the other party's lip-reading.

He opened his eyes in shock, moved his gaze away, and then moved it back to the screen, finding that this wasn't something he imagined. There was really a sound in his head, a language he had never learned but felt inexplicably familiar with.

Bruce seemed to have discovered his abnormality and asked: "Can you understand?"

"I... I think I can," Clark said incredulously, "but I shouldn't be able to understand it. I came to Earth in my infancy and never learned the Kryptonian language..."

"This might already be engraved in your genes, and only needs to be activated to be used. What are they saying?"

"Uh, those people call this person 'General Zod.' This general named Zod is scolding them for being useless, and then he is asking what thing knocked them down, and then continues to scold them for being useless..."

"It seems they don't know their own weaknesses either," Bruce said, "this is interesting."

"I have a question," Clark said, "why do they look so weak? I mean, it seems like there are no super-abilities."

Bruce shook his head and said: "I have an idea, but the specific principle hasn't been verified yet. If there is reliable data, I will tell you as soon as possible."

"Then tell me your idea first," Clark pursued, "Could it be that I am also special as a Kryptonian? Other Kryptonians aren't as powerful as me?"

Bruce shook his head again and said: "You might be a special individual, but it doesn't manifest in your strength. Each of you has such talent, it's just that they haven't gotten the key yet."

"Key? What is the key?"

Just when Clark was planning to ask further, something abnormal happened on the Kryptonian spaceship. A table suddenly shattered, and everyone was stunned.

On the Kryptonian spaceship, Zod looked at the person next to him in shock. And the soldier who shattered the table also looked very surprised. Seeing Zod's expression as if he wanted to kill someone, he hurriedly apologized: "Sorry, General, I didn't mean to... I just wanted to wipe the water off the table."

Zod walked over and looked at him with a gloomy expression: "It seems you are very dissatisfied with me."

"I don't!" The other party emphasized, "The attack on Earth this time didn't go smoothly, of course I have to be responsible. What you said is right, we shouldn't have been so reckless, shouldn't have launched a direct frontal attack. This is completely my fault. I really..."

Zod didn't intend to give him a chance to explain, he waved his hand and had him taken away. The other party was struggling while shouting injustice, and as a result, with a wave of his hand, he directly sent another soldier flying.

Instantly everyone took out their weapons and aimed at him. The soldier looked at his hand in shock: "I..."

Zod hurriedly reached out to stop the others. He narrowed his eyes and walked up, just wanting to say something, when a laser beam flew past his scalp with a "zizz."

Everyone was in chaos looking for this traitor who fired the gun. As a result, another woman stood out, raised her hands and said: "I didn't mean to, I didn't want to pull the trigger. I just don't know why, my hand was shaking a bit..."

Zod recognized her. He turned his head to look at the other soldier who had smashed the table before. These two people were one of the two soldiers who attacked the military base, and both of them had been attacked by unknown weapons and fell down directly.

Zod picked up a metal spear from the side and handed it to the soldier, then said: "Break it."

The soldier's eyeballs were about to pop out. The cold weapons manufactured by Kryptonians were very sturdy, this thing might not even melt if thrown into the sun, and he had to break it with his bare hands?

But looking at Zod's expression as if he wanted to kill someone, and looking at the table that was shattered all over the floor, okay, break it then.

He picked up the long spear, swallowed his saliva, gritted his teeth, afraid that the General would think he wasn't working hard, and even took a horse stance, used the best posture to exert force, and broke it fiercely.

Only a "creak" sound was heard, and the long spear was really bent.

Everyone on the spaceship gasped. Because they all knew how sturdy this spear was, this thing could even be used as a main gun shell in an emergency, and could pierce through the spaceships of most civilizations, and it was broken by bare hands???

The soldier himself couldn't believe it. Although he used all his strength, he didn't feel any difference from usual, how could it...

Zod, however, seemed to have thought of other things. He walked back to the table and said: "Bring the recorder on your armor over."

After the recorder was brought over and connected to the computer, he stood there for a long time, the only thing he could confirm was that both people who had mutations had been in contact with green powder.