Battle (Second Update)

Dilos followed the direction of the footage, his footsteps light and graceful, reaching the side of the warehouse with barely a sound.

The warehouse door was left open. Standing outside, Dilos could faintly hear muffled groans and heavy, deliberate footsteps from within. He did not rush inside, choosing instead to carefully observe his surroundings. Once he confirmed there were no traps, he slowly leaned in to take a look.

He saw a young blond man with a retro hairstyle reminiscent of the seventies or eighties. The man had a middle-aged man and woman slung over his shoulders, throwing them onto chairs with such force that they couldn't help but groan in pain.

These middle-aged individuals were none other than Jonathan Kent and Martha Kent. They looked quite disheveled; not only were their clothes covered in dust, but their faces and hands were bruised, likely from struggling with their captor. They sat on the chairs, grimacing and unable to move.

It was clear they had sustained injuries during their struggle with the young man. Dilos looked at the man's face, comparing it to the image in his memory; it was an exact match.

The man was Harry Falk.

However, this Harry Falk gave him a strange feeling. Logically, the man had merely been rejuvenated and should have been as weak as an ordinary person. Yet, Dilos sensed a dangerous aura emanating from him. This was why he didn't immediately engage, choosing instead to watch from the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"You know? I've dreamed of this day for a long time."

At that moment, Harry Falk spoke. He looked at Jonathan and Martha, a sunny smile on his face, though his eyes revealed a sinister, ferocious intent.

"Jonathan, your father did something wrong."

As Harry Falk pulled a small coil of twisted piano wire from his bag, he continued, "He is dead, so you must pay the price."

His tone was steady, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, as if Jonathan deserved this vengeance.

"Oh, sorry." Harry Falk suddenly laughed and touched his forehead. "I'm just too old, you know. When people get old, they tend to talk too much. So, to keep you from finding me too troublesome, I'll get straight to the point."

By then, he had uncoiled the piano wire and was walking slowly toward Jonathan.

Facing the man's actions, Jonathan showed no signs of backing down. He shouted through his bruised face, "My father didn't do anything wrong back then! He just did the right thing by bringing a scumbag like you to justice!"

At Jonathan's roar, a grim, savage grin spread across Harry Falk's face. He reached out his hands, ready to loop the piano wire around Jonathan's neck. In this position, a single pull would be enough to strangle him.

Seeing this, Martha Kent cried out, "No! Please, stop! This has nothing to do with him!"

Harry Falk merely smiled, indifferent. "Don't worry, you'll be following him down soon enough."

As he spoke, his hands tightened around the wire.

In the blink of an eye, seeing that Harry Falk's attention was entirely on Jonathan, Dilos channeled his internal energy through his blood and limbs. He closed his pores and tensed his muscles. Pulling the tactical pen from his pocket, he unleashed his hidden strength, putting his entire body's force into his arm!

Dilos trusted the sense of danger in his heart implicitly; it had saved him many times before. Once he decided to strike, he had to go all out and neutralize the enemy in one blow!

Dilos's arm acted like a small cannon, and the twenty-centimeter tactical pen became the projectile. With a sharp whistle, it tore through the air, closing the distance to the back of Harry Falk's head before slamming into it!

This sneak attack was Dilos's full-power strike in his normal state. If an ordinary person were hit in the back of the head by a tactical pen moving at such a terrifying speed and force, they would surely die a miserable death from the gaping hole it would leave behind.

However...

Clang. The tungsten-steel tip of the tactical pen made a sound like metal striking metal upon contact.

After the impact, the tactical pen was deflected by the counter-force, spinning several times before clattering to the ground. Harry Falk merely tilted forward by about ten centimeters.

This sudden event drew the attention of everyone present. All three, including Harry Falk, turned their heads in unison toward the warehouse door.

Dilos stood at the entrance, wearing a ridiculous pair of thick-rimmed glasses, touching his forehead with a goofy, idiotic smile.

"O(∩_∩)O Hi~"

The Kents and the killer, Harry Falk, were stunned, clearly not expecting such an absurd turn of events.

The atmosphere remained frozen for a moment, until Harry Falk suddenly felt his head being seared by something as hot as molten iron.

"Ah!!!"

Harry Falk let out a miserable shriek, released the piano wire, and clutched his head as he collapsed in agony.

Seeing this, Dilos cheered inwardly. He immediately rushed forward, grabbed the Kents—one under each arm—and bolted toward the door.

Dilos hadn't been acting like an idiot for no reason.

When he realized his tactical pen sneak attack had been so ineffective, he knew things were dire. He had played the fool to mask the motion of pressing the button on his glasses that activated his heat vision, allowing him to openly blast the man's head with his maximum power output!

It was a pity he hadn't managed to cook the man's brain, only forcing him away from the Kents. Something that could pierce human flesh hadn't worked, and even his strongest heat vision hadn't been enough to roast the man's skull.

Aside from Clark, this was the first time he had ever seen someone with such an incredibly durable body.

But that didn't matter now; the priority was getting the two people in his arms to safety.

Even though Dilos was physically strong and carrying two people was easy enough, their combined weight inevitably slowed him down.

"STAY!!! RIGHT!!! THERE!!!!!!"

Dilos suddenly heard a distorted, terrifying roar from behind. He glanced back quickly, his mouth twitching. Harry Falk was in pursuit, his forehead scorched red, his eyes glowing crimson with rage, closing the distance from the warehouse dozens of meters away at twice the speed of an ordinary man!