Chapter 4325: Man of Steel (37)

Clark's super-brain ceased functioning for at least two seconds, seemingly rebooting to process information it couldn't handle. Once his super-brain resumed thinking, Clark rushed forward, shouting, "Ma'am, ma'am! You... what's wrong with you?!"

After saying this, Clark wanted to slap himself—what else could be wrong in this situation? She was in premature labor!

When he rushed in front of the woman to block her, he saw her appearance and realized she wasn't as haggard as he'd imagined. She was wearing makeup and a black leather jacket. The jacket was a bit long, covering her lower body, but in reality, she was wearing nothing underneath.

Aside from the heavy scent of blood, her entire body emitted an indescribable odor: it smelled somewhat like rotting decay and somewhat like urine; in short, it was extremely foul.

She was so thin that her cheeks were sunken, and her two eyes were bulging, staring at Clark with extreme vigilance. Clark opened his mouth, unable to say a word for a moment.

"You're new here, aren't you?" the woman said. "Don't call people 'ma'am' here..."

"Then... then, madam..."

The woman rolled her eyes dramatically, bypassed Clark, and walked into a blue tent nearby. She rummaged through some tools and pulled out a pair of scissors, reaching out to cut the child's umbilical cord.

Clark was scared to death. He hurriedly blocked her movement and said, "Stop, you can't do that! It will definitely get infected!"

"It won't, the last two times were fine..."

"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!" Clark scrambled to stop her. Unexpectedly, the woman suddenly shoved the bloody little thing into his arms, then began fumbling on the ground again. Finally, she pulled out a syringe, sat on the ground, and prepared to jab it into her arm.

Clark was trembling all over. The infant in his arms was still alive, but it looked to be only about six or seven months along; it couldn't even cry yet, only breathing very weakly. Its skin was covered in things that looked like blood blisters, and its facial features were still blurred.

Clark was truly on the verge of tears. He held the little infant tremblingly and said, "You... you..."

"It's yours," the woman said. "Thanks for calling me ma'am. No one has called me that in a long time."

"It's mine?! But I..." Clark really didn't know what to say. He wanted to rush the child to a hospital for emergency treatment, but he didn't know how to cut the umbilical cord, and there were no tools here anyway. Having no other choice, he said to the woman, "Back up a bit, I... I..."

Clark closed his eyes, lowered his head, and stood in silence for two seconds. He suddenly realized that if he didn't open his eyes, he couldn't use his heat vision. He gathered his courage, opened his eyes, and used his heat vision to sever the umbilical cord.

The woman showed no surprise at his superpower, though it was more likely she was just high. Clark held the little bundle of flesh and backed away. He could hear the infant's heartbeat growing weaker and weaker; he had to get it to a hospital immediately.

Just as Clark was preparing to take flight, a man walked from behind the tent. He paused upon seeing Clark, then let out a wolf-whistle: "Where'd this little beauty come from? You aren't here looking for Daisy too, are you? What's the fun in hanging around a woman like that? Come with me..."

Halfway through his sentence, he saw the infant in Clark's arms. His eyes widened instantly, and he lunged forward. Clark quickly dodged, shouting, "What are you doing!"

"That's my kid, give him back to me!!!"

Clark was stunned again. He glanced at the woman lying on the ground, then at the homeless man. If this homeless man weren't Black and the infant clearly white, he might have actually believed him.

"Are you crazy?!" Clark scolded. "How could this be your child? You're Black!"

"What the hell do you know, you greenhorn! Daisy is mine, so of course her kid is mine! Hand it over!"

Clark couldn't possibly give it to him. But with the child in his arms, he couldn't spare a hand to fight back, so he could only keep backing away. Seeing him turn to run, the homeless man screamed like a madman, reaching into his jacket pocket for something.

Bang!

Before Clark could react, he was shot. He was carrying Kryptonite at the moment, which weakened his physique, so the bullet pierced his skin. Fortunately, it only went through the epidermis and got stuck in the muscle gap.

Even so, it made Clark gasp in pain. But he couldn't care about that; he instinctively shielded the child in his arms, kicked the gun out of the homeless man's hand, and turned to run out of the woods.

He thought he was running fast, but before he could get out, he found several people blocking his escape route. The Black homeless man shouted their names; clearly, they were in a gang together.

Clark slammed on the brakes, looking forward and then backward. The situation was critical, and he couldn't afford to hesitate. He reached out a hand, intending to take the Kryptonite out of his pocket and throw it away. But at the very moment he paused, a thud sounded—the Black homeless man had been struck in the back of the head by something and slowly collapsed.

Clark saw the woman called Daisy holding a blood-stained rock. She seemed completely unaware of what she was doing, acting entirely on instinct. But Clark noticed her gaze remained fixed on the child in his arms.

Clark felt a complex mix of emotions, but he knew he couldn't leave the child with its mother, or it would surely die. Taking advantage of the opening, he hurriedly ran out with the child, finally escaping the tent area.

Clark hailed a taxi, wrapping the infant in his jacket so the driver wouldn't see. Upon reaching the hospital, he handed the child to a nurse, but he could clearly see the confusion in the nurse's eyes as she looked at him.

"This isn't my child," Clark said. "This is... I found it."

"You're a good person," the nurse said. She looked at the little infant with pity, then shook her head gently and said, "But I'm afraid..."

The infant was taken inside, and Clark waited anxiously outside. Before long, the doctor came out and said, "I'm sorry, we did our best. It has been called to the Lord."

Clark felt as though he had lost all his strength. The doctor looked him over, seemingly recognizing him, and stepped forward to say, "Don't blame yourself too much. This child had hereditary drug addiction and AIDS. Even if it had survived, it would likely have been in great pain."

Clark remembered the woman's final look. Even if she had lost her sanity, she still possessed some maternal instinct. She felt Clark could take her child away from here. But...

"Can you give me the child's body?" Clark asked, gathering his courage again.

"Generally speaking, such bodies need to be disposed of as waste. But... fine, who are you if not Superman?"

The doctor went out for a while, then stood by the door and beckoned to him, secretly handing him a bag and saying, "Don't let anyone see."

Clark's mind was in chaos; he simply thanked the doctor and left the hospital. He walked back toward the tent area, feeling that he owed the child's biological mother an explanation regardless.

By now, the sky was nearly dark, and the woods appeared even more sinister. As soon as he walked over, he saw several figures carrying a corpse. Clark saw that the corpse they were carrying was none other than the infant's mother.

Clark was instantly consumed by rage. This woman had been fine just a few hours ago—well, maybe not "fine," but at least alive, and it hadn't looked like she would die anytime soon. Even if she had just given birth, she should have lived for a while longer; how could she be dead now?

Clark chased after them. But just as he intended to demand an explanation from the group, he faintly heard a conversation:

"The shortage of corpses is too great lately. Clear out this whole area, take anyone who's close enough. Got it?"

"No problem, you can trust us to do the job. But is there some epidemic going around lately? Why all of a sudden..."

"Watch the news once in a while. The aliens are right over our heads; the big shots must be going crazy."

"Isn't it said that Superman can..."

"Superman isn't under their control. I heard they developed some kind of special weapon, and a certain material component inside needs to be tested. Anyway, get more of them, and there'll be plenty of benefits for you."

After this voice faded, the other two voices spoke up: "What special weapon? Testing components with corpses instead of living people? Who are they kidding!"

"Then why the sudden need for so many..."

"You're making a mountain out of a molehill. We clear a batch every year before Christmas. Too many people affect the big shots' holiday celebrations, and we aren't on the East Coast where a snowfall clears things out. We have to do it ourselves."

"Fine. I remember there are two more by the fence who are about to kick the bucket. Do we go tonight or tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow morning. I'm fucking exhausted; let's find a place to have a drink."

Clark felt a chill run through his entire body. He held the bag in his arms and wanted to chase those two, but after a moment's thought, he realized he had to chase the vehicle that had collected the corpse first.

The vehicle drove away at high speed. Clark chased it for two steps before realizing he couldn't keep up. He took flight, following the vehicle through streets and alleys. It wasn't until he landed that he realized: he had actually flown. He was still carrying Kryptonite; in his haste, he had forgotten he couldn't fly.

The vehicle drove into a research center. There was surveillance everywhere, and Clark didn't dare break in. He had to return to the tent area with the child, wanting to find a remote spot nearby to bury it. But just as he rounded the east side, he saw a crowd of people surrounding a tent with lights on.

With his super-hearing, he could clearly hear the lewd things happening inside the tent. He wanted to rush over and stop them, but some of the people inside didn't sound like they were being forced. Clark stood there for a long time, eventually choosing to turn and leave.

After wandering around, he found a secluded spot in the woods. Clark used his heat vision to blast a hole in the ground. Just as he was placing the infant inside, he saw a figure swaying toward him—

It was an old man, walking out of a yellow tent, smelling of alcohol, looking like he hadn't fully woken up, seemingly out to relieve himself. When he walked into the woods, he locked eyes with Clark.

"You..." The old man looked at Clark first, then at the little infant in the hole, seemingly sobering up a bit, then said: "This is Daisy's kid, right? I heard she gave birth today."

"You know her?"

"You could say that. She came here two years ago, seems she used to be a real estate agent, got screwed over by someone messing with a contract, lost a huge sum of money, and then... but how did her kid end up with you? Isn't she one of Jabo's people?"