Chapter 1212: The Farm of Justice (Three) (Patreon)

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Clark was shocked and quickly used his superpower to catch the fish that had already jumped onto the ground.

Bruce took a deep breath, touched his cheek, and found that his face didn't hurt, but the wound on his neck started bleeding again.

Clark had to run to the market's service station to get a first-aid kit and bandages to help Bruce re-dress his wound.

"Sorry, our medical conditions here are limited. You should have a kind of miracle spray in your luggage that can heal wounds with just one spray, right?" Clark said while bandaging.

"Is there no hospital in this town?" Bruce asked.

"There is, but there are too many people. If we go now, conservatively estimated, we should be able to get an appointment by September next year," Clark said, shaking his head.

Bruce was about to speak, but Clark guessed what he was going to say and said, "Private medical insurance is also useless. The entire town only has one general practitioner, one intern doctor, and one head nurse. Even the boss of the insurance company would have to wait in line."

Bruce didn't say anything, just slightly shook his head. He didn't have the pride to criticize the medical resources here from the perspective of a Gothamite or a billionaire.

Kansas was originally an agricultural state, and the majority of its cities were not developed. Compared to the East Coast's top cities like Gotham, even compared to other Midwestern cities, there was a certain gap.

Now, Bruce understood that everything has its pros and cons. Gotham was developed, but its fast-paced life was also extreme. A place where even gangs needed to be careful, where could you find the leisure to drive a tractor to the market?

After finishing the bandaging, Clark was in a hurry to leave, wanting Bruce to use the miracle bat spray he brought to heal his neck wound. But Bruce didn't seem to be in a hurry and suggested going to the flea market.

Clark looked surprised, and Bruce lightly shook his head, saying, "Last night, Gordon called me and said that the Falcone Family and Roy had mediated their conflicts and sent their regards, telling me to take good care of myself and not to leave any sequelae."

Bruce sighed and said, "Sometimes, it's not your existence that proves your existence, but your disappearance."

"When you exist, everyone is unaware of your existence, or they take you for granted because of your existence. But when you're about to disappear or almost disappear, they realize how important your existence is."

Clark laughed and said, "Thanks, I feel less pressure about asking for leave from the newspaper now."

The two walked towards the flea market together, and Clark continued, "My report has indeed caused a sensation, and many Metropolis citizens are very curious about the mysterious city next door."

"I originally wanted to take this opportunity to add fuel to the fire and write more reports, but Jonathan and Martha didn't approve. Jonathan hopes I can take a long leave and come back to accompany the family."

Bruce turned his head, looking at him with some doubt in his eyes. Clark let out a long sigh and looked forward, saying, "In my life, there have been many moments when I wanted to be brave and move forward, but Jonathan and Martha advised me to return."

"Later, I found out they were right. The difficulty is not in going with the flow, but in knowing when to stop."

"In the chaotic river of media, it's not hard to get more, newer, and more explosive news. The difficulty is in being true to your conscience at all times, not exaggerating for attention, and not falsifying reports for further progress."

"When a report is published and attracts everyone's attention, naturally, others will dig deeper. Each person will dig deeper than others, and when the truth is finally revealed, only falsification is left."

"Will you falsify?" Bruce asked, but his tone was disbelieving. In his understanding of Clark, he was someone who wouldn't lie.

"I don't know," Clark shook his head and said, "But Jonathan and Martha have always been avoiding this situation. They didn't treat me as someone who wouldn't make mistakes, a perfect god. They're afraid I'll take the wrong path and hope to be the reins that hold me back."

Bruce felt his heart skip a beat, as if he had remembered someone, and fell into deep thought.

Clark revealed a smile, looked down, and said, "I'm very grateful that every time I make a crucial choice, they're there. Although it may seem to you that I live too plainly, without making bold choices at critical moments, at least I've avoided causing harm to others."

"… We're here." Bruce looked up and saw the sign of the flea market with a sunflower pattern.

The two walked in, and Bruce found that this flea market was very different from the one in Gotham that sold stolen goods. Here, most of the second-hand goods were farm tools and machinery parts, and even some livestock.

Clark pointed to a straw hat on a rack at one of the stalls and said excitedly, "Look, we won't have to take turns wearing hats on our way back. How much is this hat?"

"Buy something else, and I'll give it to you for free," said the fat farmer, who was smoking a cigarette and had a red face. "Isn't this little Kent? Didn't your dad scold you for not wearing a hat when you go out?"

Several farm owners around them started laughing out loud, and Clark waved his hand, saying with some embarrassment, "Don't do that, I'm not a kid anymore, I've got a job."

"Yeah, we all know, you're a journalist at a big newspaper in the city, that's a great job. When are you going to report on our small town?"

"When another meteorite falls, maybe."

Clark pulled out a wad of cash from his faded jeans, counted out a few bills, and handed them to the vendor in front of him. He bought two cigarette holders and a straw hat that was hanging on the vendor's stand, and then waved goodbye.

Bruce looked around curiously, pointing to a machine on one of the stands and asking, "What's this for?"

"Plowing the land."

"And this one?"

"Sowing seeds."

"And this?"

"Harvesting."

Bruce couldn't stop turning his head, gazing at the massive tractor parts with a mesmerized expression.

The complex steel structure, sharp blades, and large metal gears sparkled brightly in the sunlight, like the cold light of a blade flashing by when humans killed the god of wind and rain.

Even after getting back on the tractor, Bruce still looked a bit dazed. Clark pushed him twice, and Bruce finally turned around, looking at him with a confused expression and asking, "If I plant seeds in the ground, will they grow into food?"

"In theory, yes," Clark replied.

"Why just in theory?"

Clark pursed his lips, and Bruce saw a rare sad expression on his face. The small-town youth opened his mouth and said, "I used to think that way too, that land is the most reliable thing in the world, as long as you plant seeds, you'll get a harvest."

"But later, I discovered that not every piece of land is that lucky. Planting seeds with high hopes, waiting for them to grow, harvesting food, and filling your belly - it's actually a luxury."

"My hometown has vast plains, which are one of the few places in the world where you can plant seeds and get a rich harvest. But most countries don't have such good conditions, or even if they do, they can't plant good seeds."

Bruce also fell silent, and it was clear that both of them were thinking of the same thing. After a moment, Bruce asked, "How's Oliver?"

Clark didn't have many friends named Oliver, so he knew Bruce was referring to Green Arrow. Clark nodded and said, "He's doing okay, Guadalajara is actively fighting for autonomy, and they've already controlled a large area of land. They're currently in a standoff with the local government."

"Of course, the domestic media calls them the largest terrorist organization in Mexico, and for the U.S. and Mexican governments, they're indeed a terrorist organization. They've killed many people, but for the people of Guadalajara, they're the defenders of the land."

Bruce fell silent again, and the atmosphere on the way back to the city was somewhat subdued.

The silent atmosphere was broken when Clark told Jonathan and Martha in the living room about how Bruce got slapped by a fish.

Jonathan burst out laughing, slapping the back of the sofa and saying, "I told you, this is a mistake every young man will make. Your mom didn't believe me When we went fishing on the Mississippi River, my cousin and I got slapped into the water by a huge black fish, and your mom teased me for half a year."

Martha, looking a bit frail, swiftly chopped off the fish head with a "thud" that made the three men in the living room jump.

But this beautiful lady still spoke in a gentle and soft tone, "I told you before we set off, don't target those big fish, it's dangerous. Everyone agreed, but once we got on the boat, everyone changed their minds and started shouting to be the fishing king of the day."

"Competitiveness is a lesson every young man must learn," Jonathan tried to make up for it.

About half an hour later, Martha's voice came from the kitchen, "Okay, bring the food to the table, you must be starving!"

Clark went first, carrying a large bowl of pea soup and a big plate of fish-filled pies to the table. Jonathan brought over fried fish, roasted chicken, and Caesar salad.

Bruce stood at the kitchen door, looking a bit helpless, unsure if he should go in. He worried that his current strength wasn't enough to get the dishes to the table smoothly.

In the end, Clark helped him out, his tall figure squeezing into the kitchen and bringing out the last few dishes. He pulled Bruce down to sit.

The atmosphere at the Kent family dinner table was very different from Wayne Manor. Everyone in the Kent family loved to chat during meals, and they would often burst out laughing.

Bruce wasn't used to talking during meals, but what really gave him a headache was Martha's alarming serving frequency.

This lady, like every mom in the world, always had a worry - would her children eat enough?

Martha had extra love, and she was very concerned about Clark's first friend, afraid that he wouldn't eat enough.

Bruce tried his best to stuff his mouth with food, but it was no use.

Looking at the mountain of food on his plate, Bruce finally understood why Bat Cat had gotten so fat in just a few months.

Finally, there was some sunshine.

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 1213: The Farm of Justice (4)