That Inherently Evil Kent Brat, I'll Personally—!

That inherently evil Kent brat, I'll personally—!

The sun was setting as usual.

Locke stood at his front door, staring at the open entrance.

A sliver of warm yellow light spilled through the crack, glaringly conspicuous in the dusk—

But he clearly remembered turning off the lights before leaving.

"Tch."

He instinctively took half a step back, his muscles tightening as Star Platinum's phantom form flickered behind him.

But the next second, Locke suddenly paused and glanced back at the empty yard—

He'd forgotten.

Dio had said he wouldn't be home for dinner tonight. He was probably at Martha's house.

"..."

After two seconds of silence, he suddenly laughed, his shoulders relaxing.

"All right, looks like I won't have to protect those two little brats tonight."

Locke rolled his wrist, his knuckles cracking crisply.

If that kid Giorno had traveled back again, then Martha's dinner table would definitely need another set of cutlery tonight.

But if it was some blind fool of a thief...

A dangerous curve formed at the corner of his mouth, and Star Platinum's fingers cracked.

His hands had been itching lately. Ever since he dealt with that Kryptonite monster last time, the farm had been so peaceful that not even a troublesome deer had shown up.

"Let's see which distinguished guest this is."

"Bang!"

Locke slammed the door open. Star Platinum's strength sent it crashing into the wall, making the window frames buzz.

Yet the house was silent, save for the occasional soft crackle of firewood in the fireplace.

But...

There was half a glass of whiskey on the dining table.

And Locke was certain he had cleaned everything up this morning.

After all, that kid Dio had had his eye on this liquor for a long time!

There was even...

A trail of muddy footprints stretching from the front door into the kitchen.

"Heh~!"

Narrowing his eyes, Locke silently followed the trail.

Star Platinum hovered at his side, ready to give the uninvited guest a "warm" welcome at any moment.

He gave it some thought. If it was a thief...

Officer Tom of the Smallville Police Department had complained just a few days ago that the town was too quiet, that there wasn't even anyone speeding.

If Locke handed him a home invader, maybe Tom would even treat him to a free whiskey at the bar.

Mm.

After all, tomorrow was harvest day, and also Dio and Clark's eighth birthday.

A father who had worked hard all year deserved to relax a little too.

The floor creaked faintly. Locke grinned soundlessly, revealing a truly terrifying smile.

"Rustle... rustle..."

Strange noises echoed through the living room, and a furry head suddenly poked out from the kitchen—

It was a weathered man in a tattered trench coat, half a blueberry pie clenched between his teeth. His arms were full of ham, cheese, fruit, and even Martha's half-finished special birthday cake, all looted from the refrigerator.

Cream clung to his graying sideburns, while three sausages were skewered on his steel claws, making him look like a human buffet rack.

"My food!!"

Unable to tolerate someone insulting the crops he had painstakingly grown, Locke didn't even wait to get a good look. Star Platinum's fist shot forward with a howl of displaced air.

Then...

The punch missed.

The other man bent backward with unbelievable flexibility, and the sausages traced a perfect arc through the air.

The man licked the blueberry jam from the corner of his mouth and grinned.

"Heh, old friend, don't underestimate my instincts for cafeteria hot sauce."

"I may not be able to see it, but do you think all those years of getting beaten were for nothing?!"

"Logan?!"

Locke froze in his stance. "How do you know about cafeteria hot sauce?"

Then, as if realizing something, he sucked in a sharp breath.

"Wait, you're from the future too?!"

His steel claws retracted, and Logan watched regretfully as a slice of cheese plopped onto the floor.

But...

What did he mean, too?

Were there others?

Forget it.

This wasn't the time to think about that.

"Locke!!!"

The food in his arms scattered all over the floor as Logan lunged forward and hugged Locke's leg.

His howl made the chandelier tremble.

"Why did you have to die so early?!"

There was actually moisture in the bloodshot eyes of the legendary tough guy, Wolverine.

"Without you, who the hell was supposed to keep your evil son in line?!"

Locke: "..."

He looked down at the supposedly hard-bitten Wolverine, who was now rubbing against his work pants like an abandoned large dog, smearing snot and tears all over one pant leg.

Silence.

Deathly silence.

Only the firewood in the fireplace occasionally popped with sparks, as if mocking this absurd scene.

"...May I ask," Locke finally found his voice, "what happened this time?"

Logan raised his head, revealing a smile uglier than crying.

"Do you know what your son did in the future?" His trembling hand reached for the liquor cabinet. "Give me something strong first."

"That's limited-edition whiskey I bought!" Locke slapped his claw away. "Get to the point!"

"All right, all right."

Logan sighed.

Then he quickly gave Locke the rundown—

The story of the Secret Emperor.

"Sigh..." Locke sighed. "Dio actually..."

"Yeah. You have no idea. He turned all of America into his kingdom. He even renamed my hometown, Canada, just to get back at me."

"What did he call it?"

"Locke Kingdom," Logan wailed.

After another moment of silence, Locke silently turned and walked toward the tool shed.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Logan scrambled to his feet.

"To get a belt."

His voice was terrifyingly calm. "I need to give that unfilial son a little shock."

"It won't work."

Logan pounced again and wrapped his arms around Locke's waist.

"As long as we make sure you don't die, that's enough, Locke!"

The kitchen fell into an eerie silence.

"...So."

Locke slowly crouched down, meeting Logan's eyes. "You came here to stop me from dying?"

Wolverine's expression suddenly became complicated.

"Then what about Clark? Why didn't he stop Dio? Don't tell me he also..." Locke asked.

"That's the key reason I came to find you."

"Because Clark disappeared. We don't even know why he disappeared." Logan shook his head. "Not even Martha and Jonathan know."

"That's why no one could stop Dio in the future! Martha and Jonathan couldn't either! In the end, you were the only one we could think of!"

"You can't die! This is the best way!"

"So what exactly caused my death?" Locke asked, puzzled. "You have to tell me first."

"The time is before December 1998, Locke!"

"Right after you and I met, the—"

"Knock! Knock! Knock!"

A knock came from the door, and Dio's impatient voice pierced through the door panel. "Dad! Open up!"

"Urgh—!"

Logan's words abruptly stopped as his body began to convulse.

"Shing!"

His steel claws extended uncontrollably.

The iron-blooded tough guy clutched his temples, cold sweat seeping through his fingers as his pupils visibly flooded with blood-red color.

"?!"

Locke's expression tightened.

PT

SD?!

What had Dio done in the future that just hearing his voice gave Wolverine post-traumatic stress disorder?!

"&%￥$@"

Logan forced out a few words through clenched teeth, but Locke couldn't make them out at all.

Until...

He suddenly raised his head, his scarlet eyes staring straight toward the front door!

"You inherently evil Kent brat!!" Logan erupted in an inhuman roar. "I'll personally—!"

"Bang!"

The front door was opened from the inside by The World. The blond boy still wore an irritated expression, but froze the instant he saw the living room. "Wha—"

"Cafeteria hot sauce!"

"The World!"

Time froze at that instant.

"Sorry, my friend from the future."

"Whatever it is, we can talk after you wake up."

"Ora!"

"Ora!"

"Ora!"

"Ora!" x100

Time resumed.

"What?"

Having summoned The World, Dio's wary gaze moved from the food scattered all over the floor, to the man unconscious on the ground, then to Locke.

Only then did he relax.

Though there were still a few question marks hanging over his head.

Had he imagined it?

Had that guy just been about to kill him?