Clark has something to say

Clark stared at the small lead box on the table, distracted.

The cold iron-gray box now has a warm and comforting feeling, like a big square sun, lying on the table and heating up.

Batman had been away for a while, and before leaving, Clark noticed that Batman had taken the monitors that had been installed in the Fortress of Solitude.

It was the first time for Clark to gain this kind of trust. The gods of the world had gained a lot of trust, but this trust was extremely heavy. It was difficult for him to use a certain word to define his relationship with Batman.

Friends are not close, but it is a bit strange to say that they are enemies.

Clark took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

It's not that he's cranky, but Batman really does look like a cat, not just in uniform... He refrains from thinking that he might offend his colleagues, but his train of thought somehow wanders off.

For example, it’s like he brought down a black cat from a tree in Gotham that was always indifferent to people. The cat suddenly stretched out its paws, patted your face, and pushed a small flower with its tail.

The mighty god among men, carefully holding up the lead box with both hands--inside the box was the first kryptonite in the Fortress of Solitude, a stone that could kill him that he had never collected before.

He needs a place to keep his stuff.

Solving this problem is actually not difficult. Fortress of Solitude is full of guard robots. With Krypton’s technological level, the small lead box is safe to place anywhere—but Clark always feels that it should be placed more appropriately.

Safe, drawer, wardrobe... He tried them one by one, but he was not satisfied. Just when he was in trouble, he caught a glimpse of the statue in the middle of the hall from the corner of his eye.

The little curly hair on the forehead trembled energetically.

Clark's character determines that Superman doesn't like to do things under cover, and he doesn't have any secrets to keep. It can be seen from the design of the Fortress of Solitude. There are no tunnels, no secret rooms, and everything is placed on the bright side. The most important thing is Things—the statues of Jor-El and Laura-El were placed in the middle of the hall by Clark, where they could be seen at a glance.

The more precious it is, the more he wants to put it in the center.

Clark thought for a while, put the small lead box in the hand of Joel's statue, then circled the statue a few times, floated into the air again, and checked it again with a different perspective.

But he still felt that it was not appropriate, so he dug out some wool from the cabinet, used super speed, and knit a woolen coat for it.

——The style is exactly the same as the statue's cloak, simple and rustic, with a wide pattern.

The sweaters Martha knitted him when he was a child were all of this style.

After solving the most important problem, Clark slammed himself on the bed and turned over again. It has to be said that dealing with Batman made him feel like his days were like years.

The brain is thinking at a high speed every second, and the time density is stretched. Clark has been salted for a while, his eyes are slightly closed, and he is almost falling asleep.

At this moment, a beam of light shone right into his pupils, and the little reporter was a little annoyed by the sun. He twisted against the bed sheet twice, and forcibly twisted his body away.

……wrong.

Why does the sunlight angle of the Fortress of Solitude shine on the bed?

His eyes widened suddenly, he lost all sleepiness, and a chill ran up his head along the nerves of his whole body!

It's already at this point - Wayne Group is already at work - he hasn't clocked in today - his perfect attendance award is gone!

The soul of the little reporter's social animal was almost pulled out of his body, and then picked up by the rich capitalist to shake. Clark was shocked suddenly, his heart was cold, and he rushed out in a hurry without changing his uniform.

Clark ran towards the door in a panic, and halfway through, he braked suddenly. He flew back, with a solemn face, pulled off the cloak and hood, and stuffed the small lead box into it like a thief.

If you don't look carefully, you will definitely not notice any abnormalities. The lead box has a woolen coat, which is almost integrated with the cloak.

Very good, the little reporter nodded seriously.

……

He still doesn't make it to Gotham on time, and like The Flash is forever late, even with super speed, he's always delayed by things.

The stupid cat who can't get down the tree in the metropolis, the old man who can't carry heavy objects to help carry the box, the hydrogen balloon that flies into the sky...

He was late anyway, Clark silently gave up on himself, there was no difference between being late for one minute and being late for five minutes, and there was no difference between being late for an hour and being absent.

He didn't sleep all night, and when he went to work, he might have to watch the rich man's post.

Thinking of this, Clark's eyes darkened, he sighed melancholy, and his face darkened.

"Hey, hi... hello, super, superman—"

A trembling voice appeared from his right rear, and Clark subconsciously slowed down so that those behind him could catch up with him.

He is a young man with impeccable appearance.

His uniform was a beautiful crimson, with a shiny lightning bolt on his chest, and a short white cloak inlaid with gold trim swung behind him. Everything looked well-groomed, even the leather boots were shiny.

The strange young man was so nervous that his tongue was stiff when he spoke.

...It should be the superhero on the magic side.

For some reason, Clark felt that the man's expression was a little bit inconsistent.

The characteristics of each age group of human beings will be displayed on the body in different ways. The elderly will walk with a hunched waist, and the middle-aged will walk slower than the young. You don’t need to look at their faces, just from their backs, you can roughly judge come out.

In order to better disguise himself, Clark deliberately learned about such knowledge.

The man in front of him seemed to have forced a teenager's soul into an adult's body. He paused, hovered in the air, and asked very friendlyly, "Do you need my help?"

"Wow."

The young man sighed uncontrollably: "Superman is talking to me—"

As soon as he raised his head, he met Clark's gaze, and the stiffness in his voice became a little more stiff: "You really do exactly what Freddy said... No, I don't need help, no, I do, I just wanted to ask you a favor-"

The young man babbled incoherently and incoherently, but the volume became lower and lower. After a while, he wiped his forehead in despair.

Clark smiled slightly.

"Of course." He stretched out his hand, wanting to pat the young man on the shoulder, so that he wouldn't be so nervous, but he was worried that he would scare the other party, so he floated back without a trace: "As long as I can do it .”

Although there is always nothing good on the magic side.

The Kryptonian’s magic resistance is extremely low—low to infinitely close to zero, and disasters on the magic side always make him feel powerless. He was asked by the mage of the New York Temple to guard the temple before, but in the end he just fought with the enemy. When they met each other, he was drawn into the world of perverted vision.

... When he finally struggled out of that world, he found that the magic side had completely shuffled the cards, and even the supreme mage had changed.

Hoping it wasn't too difficult, he secretly made a wish to Rao.

"My resistance to magic is very weak." He vaccinated the young man in advance: "Maybe it won't be of much use."

The young man raised an eyebrow in confusion: "What?"

"Oh." He seems to have reacted suddenly, and clasped his hands cautiously: "I'm sorry, I think the matter I asked for your help is not that serious... Sorry, Superman must be busy with more important things."

"I didn't mean to disturb you." He apologized awkwardly: "I'll think of a way."

The mysterious youth Billy Batson is a 13-year-old boy aka Shazam, and now he is in a panic.

Although he was selected by the wizard and endowed with extremely powerful magical powers, he is still a middle school student, and the most distressing problem right now is how to deal with his friend Freddy's school relationship.

Freddy is his brother in the foster family and his best friend, but because of his weird personality and a lame leg, he is always bullied on campus.

He lost Freddy's treasured treasure again - the bullet that once hit Superman.

... guilt and impulse mixed together, rusty Solomon's wisdom was running wild, and a bold idea took shape secretly.

Clark didn't know it himself, but Superman was indeed a campus idol in school.

—Wouldn’t everything be alright if the bad guys at school saw Superman in person... like if Superman told everyone that Freddy was his friend?

The little boy's plan was flawless. He even rehearsed how to talk to Superman more than a dozen times, but when he really saw the child of light who seemed to be wearing all the brilliance, his tongue was taken away by the cat.

Facing the innocent smile of the god on earth, he unconsciously panicked. It was too shameful. Every second of Superman was of great significance. How could he waste Superman's time with such a trivial matter?

Clark: "..."

Seeing that the young man was about to leave, he stretched his eyebrows helplessly, and tugged at the young man's cloak: "I do have an important matter right now."

Billy turned back anxiously, his Adam's apple rolling, and swallowed dryly: "What did I screw up?"

The god of the world has a calm face, but his voice is more gentle: "Someone needs help, and I just know that someone needs help."

Superman can help a lot of people, but for Clarke, he doesn't want to prioritize those who need help, even if he is accused of wasting his time and doing something more urgent that only Superman can do.

Billy dodged Clark's sight in a panic: "Shouldn't you be doing something more meaningful?"

Immediately, he saw the overly handsome man smile slightly, and with his smile, the divine aura dissipated a bit, replaced by a warmth that could melt the leaden heart.

"That's what makes sense."

He heard the other party's warm and powerful voice: "There is nothing more meaningful than this."

The author has something to say:

Let me take a look at my friend's new article, it's super beautiful!

[Comprehensive British and American] Investigator's [-] escapes

Author: Jogo

Salor is an investigator, and it is his task to expel the evil gods from this world.

Holding several character cards in his hand, he jumped repeatedly on the verge of death, and successfully played the death ending for each vest.

The dazzling magician where the stage lights converge;

A lonely watchman hiding in the darkness;

A mysterious gunsmith who never misses a hundred rounds;

An "abnormal" bionic human whose precision calculations never make mistakes...

The long night was over, and the dawn was approaching, but "he" gave his life before victory.

Every superhero has seen "his" die.

But then, they found out——

The new consultant from S.H.I.E.L.D. seems so familiar?

Salor, who jumped repeatedly on the edge of falling off the horse: QVQ?

Salor: That—

Superheroes: Stop talking!

Salor: Actually——

Superheroes: We will remember your sacrifice!

Salor: ...

Salor: That's just a vest, I'm not really dead, hey!

Salor: Forget it, you will get used to it once you die. I am used to it, and you are also used to it.

Superheroes: ——No!

感谢在2021-02-0423:25:31~2021-02-0515:57:29期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angels who threw the mines: Underpants, Gu Yun, Feng Ji's little animals, Xi Jiuyue 1;

Thanks to the little angels of the irrigation nutrient solution: 10 bottles of Banana; 2 bottles of Eucalyptus; 47797183 bottle of Yunyun Yun, 1, Yun, J Jun;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!