Aliens Are People Too

Chapter 35: Aliens Are People Too

David showed no mercy, turning Sean—who had attacked him and even threatened to kill him—into a vegetative state.

Clark felt a surge of warmth as he rushed forward to knock Sean away and save his brother.

But he couldn't help feeling a bit angry, too. He stared at Sean, unconscious at the bottom of the pit, his voice heavy and hesitant.

"This time's different. Sean hadn't even committed a crime yet, and you turned him into a vegetable..."

The previous metahumans—Jeremy, who could generate electric currents; Gregg, who turned into an insectoid; and Tina, who could reshape her flesh and reinforce her bones—had all been confirmed murderers.

But Sean was different. Maybe he'd just gotten his powers and come straight for David.

"Isn't attacking you and me a crime?"

David put on a look of feigned surprise.

"With a power this dangerous, setting everything else aside, wouldn't a court rule this as self-defense?"

He patted Clark on the shoulder—Clark, who stood frozen—then turned and walked away.

"Don't sell yourself short, big brother. Aliens are people too."

"..."

David wasn't surprised. It was the same in the comics—Superman's classic refusal to see himself as human, as if a man trying to stab someone with a straw couldn't possibly count as attempted murder.

If Sean hadn't committed any other crimes and had only attacked him, David might have let it slide.

But now he was trying to impose that twisted view of crime on David too. What, being strong makes you guilty? Metahumans aren't people?

At this point, Clark thought it over, gritted his teeth, and blurred away at super speed to clean up the scene. He then carried Sean to the hospital entrance before catching up with his brother.

The first time he'd seen David do something like this, he'd been shocked, unable to believe it. But now... he was terrifyingly starting to get used to it.

Back home, Clark wasn't as angry anymore. At the dinner table, the radio reported that the town's thermal power plant had been attacked by an unknown assailant, apparently using liquid nitrogen as a weapon. Over a dozen people had frozen to death.

Besides, he knew how it had started. David had helped Chloe chase off the womanizing Sean yesterday, and today was the fallout.

At the table, Jonathan and Martha worriedly told the two of them to be careful.

This might be another metahuman. They didn't know if the police could catch the culprit.

The couple had no idea that the perpetrator was already lying in a hospital bed as a vegetable.

Thinking back, Clark felt that compared to people like Sean—who got power and immediately placed themselves above life and law, doing whatever they wanted—his brother's mindset wasn't quite so dangerous.

Still, he believed David needed to be corrected.

"If only David wouldn't turn people into vegetables at the drop of a hat."

But Clark didn't try to persuade his brother again. He'd come to realize that David had his own set of principles.

Most of the time, David was smarter and more mature than him. In David's eyes, his big brother's words probably carried little weight.

"I've said enough already. Saying more won't help."

Sometimes words were powerless. It was hard to change someone with talk alone.

Whether or not Cassandra's prophecy was wrong, he couldn't let David go down the wrong path.

That was his duty as an older brother.

"I was careless this time."

Clark made a silent vow. Next time—next time, he would stop David with action.

There was no way he could let it happen again, his big brother getting into trouble and needing his little brother to bail him out.

Metropolis City Center Museum.

A one-of-a-kind antique exhibition.

Visitors in suits and long dresses strolled through the halls, holding complimentary champagne, admiring the rare artifacts from around the world that had just arrived at the museum.

Standing before a glass case containing an ancient Greek suit of armor, Clark stared at the reflection, a trace of sorrow on his face as he reflected on the afternoon.

"Just two hours later, when we went back to the nursing home, Ms. Cassandra had already passed away."

He was grateful the old woman had foreseen his future. He'd planned to visit her again in the afternoon to keep her company, but when he returned, the room was empty.

All of Ms. Cassandra's personal belongings had been cleared away.

A red-eyed nurse told him the old woman had gone to heaven around noon.

Many people at the nursing home had been helped by her—guided through life, saved from trouble. They grieved her passing.

"At least she didn't die in pain."

David shook his head gently.

That kind old woman had probably foreseen her own death. She had left this world peacefully.

"No need to mourn too much for a woman who had already seen through life."

After noon, when the two arrived at the Nursing Home, they happened to run into Lana. She had just returned from Metropolis, and her Aunt had given her a few tickets to an exhibition.

Lana remembered the trouble she'd caused a couple days ago and how Clark had comforted her, so she handed each of them a ticket.

Clark had been thrilled at the chance to spend more time with Lana that evening, but after what happened this afternoon, that joy had faded.

"I know."

Clark nodded quietly, taking a deep breath. Life had to go on.

He looked up and noticed a dazzling suit of armor studded with gems in a display case, his gaze lingering with curiosity.

The inner armor was inlaid with large gems, blue and red interwoven, looking magnificent and priceless—though he couldn't tell if they were real or fake.

"I've heard that some precious one-of-a-kind museum pieces are actually high-quality replicas on display, in case of accidents."

Clark had grown up on the Farms and wasn't used to this kind of setting. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to ask his brother.

"You can use your own eyes to 'look deeper' at it."

Template fusion: 95%

David replied casually; he wasn't an expert on ancient Greek artifacts either.

The Thanos template was almost done fusing.

He hadn't been checking his Emotion Points notifications much lately, keeping them hidden.

The resentment and hatred from several people in a Vegetative State kept scrolling nonstop, annoying to look at.

Anyway, he knew the points were still accumulating.

Resolve from Clark +38...

"Clark's strength seems to be growing fast recently."

David scrolled through the earlier notifications. Over the past few days, Clark had been giving him nearly double the Ability Points.

Even mild emotions from him yielded decent Emotion Points.

Nervousness from Kara +0.07...

Spotting a notable name, a flicker of doubt crossed his eyes.

When had this Kara felt nervous because of him? Had he run into her during the day?

"Clark, David. Fancy seeing you here."

Lex Luthor, dressed in a black suit, walked over slowly with a glass of champagne, a slice of lemon clinging to the rim. A smile hung on his face. "Need me to introduce you to the exhibits?"

"Lex?"

Clark smiled and greeted him.

"Genuine ancient Greek artifacts, once belonging to Alexander the Great."

Clark had been eyeing the display case earlier. Lex pointed to a python-like pattern on the armor's chest.

"This pattern is said to represent courage and strength."

"Courage and strength?"

David glanced up. The coiled python vaguely resembled an S, and he let out a soft laugh.

"Alexander's soldiers probably wouldn't agree. Hard to imagine anyone wearing that into battle."

A suit of armor studded with blindingly bright gems, visible from miles away—this was definitely not battle gear.

If it wasn't meant for the battlefield, what was the point of talking about strength and courage? Wasn't that laughable?

"Sometimes, the enemy isn't on a battlefield soaked in blood and death."

Lex smiled.

"This armor helped Alexander the Great appear sacred and inviolable in certain settings."

"Lex, are you a history buff?"

Clark was surprised that a businessman's heir knew so much about history.

"I'm just interested in people who ruled the world before turning thirty."

Lex's casual tone carried an undeniable ambition and pride.

David raised an eyebrow.

"If I remember right, Alexander died at thirty-three, didn't he?"

"..."

An hour or so later, another chapter.

Recommending a friend's book—smooth and easy to read, with polished prose, a simplified cultivation novel. Well-written. Interested readers can check it out.