The Flesh and Blood Angel outside the window paid no attention to the departing boy. Its sculpted face remained utterly expressionless; naturally, it had no movable eyeballs either.
Yet Superman could feel that it was watching him, its gaze filled with an indescribable emotion.
Like greed, like hunger, like regret, and like delight.
Clark could not help shaking his head. He pulled his legs out of the floorboards and felt that he might be going crazy. Had he actually read emotions from the face of a statue?
He shot into the air, both fists slamming into its chest. He intended to ram this strange statue into the sky, lest their battle spread to the city he loved.
And his home, of course. Even if the bedroom had already been destroyed, he had to preserve the living room as best he could.
A reporter's salary was not that high. If the sofa and television were wrecked in the coming battle too, that would really hurt.
However, he found that he had underestimated his enemy. In the past, whenever he raised both fists over his head and struck an enemy like a torpedo, he had always been unstoppable.
But tonight, when his fists touched the enemy's body, they sank slightly into its flowing flesh, and their force was immediately neutralized.
He raised his head in surprise and glanced at its face, but the statue's expression had not changed at all. The next second, the Flesh and Blood Monster raised an arm, and its liquid-like flowing fist slammed viciously into Superman's stomach.
With just one punch, Superman found himself on the moon, embedded in a crater.
Not far away lay the ruins of the Justice League Watchtower. The last time he had assembled a bat symbol on the moon, he had repaired it