Chapter 26: Damn Birds and Bees!

When Peter returned to the farm, he found Homelander standing helplessly before an unconscious Clark.

Walking quickly over to Clark, Peter scooped him up and asked, "What happened, Homelander?"

"I... I didn't mean to..."

Homelander was clearly terrified, his voice stammering, "I accidentally threw the lawnmower into the sky, and it fell... and hit Clark."

"Dad, I... I didn't mean it."

He thought Clark might never be able to move again because he had hit him.

Peter checked Clark's body, and after confirming that the boy was unharmed, he let out a sigh of relief.

"It’s okay, John. I know you didn't mean to."

Peter reached out and ruffled his hair, "But we need to take Clark to the hospital."

He told Homelander to go get Clark's clothes from his room while he went to get the car. Although he knew Clark’s steel-like body couldn't be killed by a lawnmower, he decided to have him checked at the hospital just in case.

...

At the Smallville Medical Center, a doctor was examining Clark while Jonathan and Martha rushed through the door.

"Clark!"

Seeing Clark quietly cooperating with the doctor, Martha ran over and hugged him excitedly.

"Thank goodness, Clark, you’re okay."

The doctor put down his stethoscope and said to Martha, "Mrs. Kent, Clark is in great condition. There's nothing to worry about."

"Thank you."

Martha thanked the doctor repeatedly.

Nearby, Peter nudged the head-bowed Homelander.

Homelander walked over to Martha, feeling uneasy. "I'm sorry, Aunt Martha. It was my fault that Clark got hurt."

Seeing how self-reproachful Homelander looked, Martha crouched down and held his hand to comfort him. "It’s not your fault, John. I know you didn't mean it."

She had seen Homelander use his laser vision to cut through things when he was younger; she knew about his superpowers.

While comforting Homelander, she looked toward Clark with a worried expression. The fact that Clark was unharmed after being hit by such a heavy lawnmower meant that he, like Homelander, was not an ordinary person. She had originally planned to send Clark to school soon, but now it seemed that the matter of schooling needed to be discussed thoroughly with Jonathan and Peter.

Half an hour later.

Homelander walked out of the hospital behind his father, still unable to shake off his feelings of guilt.

Birds were chirping in the streets, and bees were buzzing. The air was filled with the fragrance of honeysuckle, and the sun was shining brightly, but Homelander felt terrible.

He hated the sun. He hated the blue sky.

"Damn birds and bees, why don't you find some dark corner to mess around in?"

"Homelander?"

The last sentence was muttered under his breath, but Peter heard it and immediately glared at him. "Did you just use a curse word?"

Could this brat actually curse now?! Was this the kind of language a child his age should be using?

Having muttered the phrase, Homelander immediately realized he had messed up. Seeing Peter's stern, unfriendly glare, he instantly shrank back.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I..."

He instinctively covered his backside.

Peter didn't attack him; instead, he crouched down and asked, "Tell me, who did you learn that from?"

Seeing Peter's serious expression, Homelander became even more anxious. He knew that once his father's face turned serious, it meant he was very angry.

"Little Sam Jones."

Homelander mumbled the name of the culprit.

Peter thought for a moment; that was the black kid who lived near Lana’s house.

"Don't play with that black kid again."

He didn't have a good impression of Black people. If that kid were to infect Homelander with that culture, the thought of Homelander speaking in slang and acting like a thug filled him with dread.

"O-okay."

Homelander nodded.

Soon, he thought of something else. "Dad, is Clark just like me?"

After being hit by the lawnmower, Clark was fine after a nap; he didn't think Clark was a normal person either.

Peter nodded and said, "He is just like you. You are both gifted individuals, and you are brothers."

"But..." Homelander said, struggling with the thought, "He isn't your biological son, I am."

He had always thought his advantage was that he had inherited his father's talents, unlike Clark. Now that Clark had also awakened his powers, he felt his status might be at risk.

Peter looked at the conflicted Homelander in surprise. Did this kid care so much about being biological? If he ever found out he was sent here in a spaceship, wouldn't his mind just explode? He needed to find an opportunity to provide some psychological counseling regarding his views on blood relations.

"Yes, Homelander, you are my son, and you always will be."

Peter comforted him for a while before shifting the topic back to the lawnmower. "Think about it, Homelander, if the lawnmower you threw had hit someone other than Clark, wouldn't that have killed them?"

Homelander nodded, looking dejected.

Peter continued to guide him: "So, if you go to school and lose control of your emotions, you could hurt your classmates. Wouldn't that be a huge disaster?"

Homelander murmured an "uh-huh," feeling that his father's logic was sound.

"Therefore... our training cannot stop."

Peter had previously tried to train him and Clark to focus their attention, but the results weren't very obvious. It seemed he would have to increase the difficulty.

...

At night, at the Patrick farm.

Homelander was drinking milk while trying to crush a raw egg in his hand. Peter had said that he couldn't control his strength when his emotions were high. So, he made him try to crush the eggshell without breaking the yolk inside while drinking milk (Homelander would always make a rather strange expression while drinking milk). Even though he could do it under normal circumstances, he couldn't focus his attention on the egg while drinking.

"Crack!"

Looking at the crushed egg in his hand, Homelander slumped, picking up another egg with a look of despair.

...

Meanwhile, late at night, Officer Lane received an emergency call: another jewelry store in town had been robbed.

When he drove to the shop, the police were already conducting an on-site investigation.

"Was it that guy again?"

Looking at the chaotic scene, Officer Lane asked the officer in charge. Similar cases, including the robbery of the Luthor family bank, had occurred three times today.

"Very likely. No one else has the strength to tear open an iron door like this." The officer pointed to the shop door, which looked as if it had been ripped open by sharp claws.

"What is this? A werewolf?"

Officer Lane chuckled and shook his head. "We don't have any legends about werewolves here."

"Is there any surveillance?" he continued to ask.

"No, the cameras were destroyed in advance, so there are no visual clues."

"That is truly terrible!"

As he spoke, Officer Lane walked over to some broken glass and picked up a piece of green, crystal-sized stone from the ground.

"What is this?"