Five minutes later.
Outside the abandoned car factory, on a vast, barren land.
Dusk finally fell completely.
The late autumn wind, carrying a chilling cold, swept across the desolate field, emitting a mournful "whoosh."
Lois, wrapped in a coarse blanket that reeked of engine oil, sat shivering on a relatively clean cement slab.
Holding a thermos in both hands.
John casually tossed it to her from the pickup truck.
The water was very hot, and it slid down my throat into my stomach.
Finally, I managed to suppress the nausea and vomiting sensation in my chest, a mixture of ammonia and burnt gas.
"Call..."
He exhaled a long breath of hot air, which was accompanied by a white mist.
Lois looked down at his trembling hands, gave a self-deprecating laugh, and spoke in a hoarse voice:
"I admit, I almost peed my pants from fright just now..."
Lois sniffed and wiped the soot off his face with the back of his hand.
But I don't understand...
"If your goal was to let the secret from twelve years ago rot in the mud, you could have done absolutely nothing just now."
If you had arrived even half a second later, that solid steel pipe would have crashed down directly...
At that time, no one will look here anymore.
Your secret will continue to rot in this mud, until... if you die too.
"Killing someone to silence them is a very low-level tactic, Miss Ryan."
John turned around, his face appearing obscure in the deepening darkness.
"Moreover, Deadman attracting a few state troopers or a forensic vehicle that spends half a month wandering around town..."
I like quiet, Miss Ryan. I don't like being disturbed in my current life.
Lois paused for a moment, then bit her lower lip.
He then reached into the inner pocket of his chest lining and pulled out the small notebook covered in black grime.
The cover was soaked through, but the ink inside was still there.
Even so, my investigation will not be halted because of one accident.
Lois took a deep breath and placed the notebook in her palm.
I saw you catch that steel pipe with your bare hands.
Whether you are a so-called Metahuman or a mysterious alien visitor...
This in itself is news enough to overturn modern understanding.
"I need to report this."
Upon hearing this, John chuckled softly.
"Report?"
John strolled forward leisurely, looking down at her from his elevated position.
"Big reporter, you're really persistent... So what do you want to know?"
Lois was a little stunned. She had expected John to refuse her request, but she hadn't expected him to respond so readily.
But before she could continue to use her imagination, John interrupted her train of thought.
"So, you really think... these reports will cause a sensation?"
John leaned down slightly, and their eyes met.
"Perhaps it will cause a minor stir among some alien enthusiasts, but..."
John held up one index finger.
Have you thought about the consequences?
"If this news does attract the attention of certain departments, and they follow the trail to Kansas..."
What would those bureaucrats, who would stop at nothing to monopolize technology, do?
John suddenly recalled some dark examples from Vought's past, and his eyes gradually turned cold.
"They will send a fully armed team to turn the farm upside down."
"Arrest those drunken old farmers in town and inject them with nerve-stimulating drugs."
Flatten all the wheat fields with bulldozers...
Do you feel a great sense of accomplishment?
"And..."
John suddenly changed the subject, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.
"I don't recall saying... I wouldn't let you write reports, did I?"
Upon hearing John's words, Lois abruptly raised her head, staring at John in disbelief:
"What did you say?!"
I said, you can write it.
John, with one hand in his pocket, said casually:
"Not only do you have to write it, but you have to use the most eye-catching headlines and put it on the front page of the Daily Planet."
Lois's brain completely short-circuited.
No... if we're going to let her report on it, then what about all that analysis we just did?
Is it selective schizophrenia?
"But you just said..."
"Let me finish speaking."
John interrupted her.
"... Here's some big news, but I have two strict conditions."
"First, any personal information about the town's location, or any other details about me, must be completely removed from this report."
Even the slightest suggestive word is unacceptable.
Lois frowned upon hearing this.
"No! If we conceal all the sources and locations, this manuscript will Reagan pass the editor-in-chief's review."
"So, that's my second point."
John smiled slightly, a hint of cunning in his eyes.
"That's not what I asked you to report on. In fact, what I need you to report on has absolutely nothing to do with me..."
Lois was stunned.
"It's okay?... Then what do you want me to write?"
First of all, I'm just a regular Earthling with a slightly stronger body...
Secondly, this news can be described as a very explosive piece of news.
"An alien expeditionary force that had been wandering for decades saw their home planet reduced to ashes in a massive explosion."
Their entire civilization was reduced to a single giant interstellar warship, only a few kilometers long.
Then their leader was an old man who looked like a fanatical Nazis warlord, named... Zod.
Lois stared blankly at John, not even knowing what John was talking about.
"They lack energy, and their warships are on the verge of falling apart, but they possess a terrifying geological modification weapon called the ' World Engine '."
John continued slowly:
"Now, this ravenous wolf has its sights set on this blue Earth."
They are going full speed ahead, warping towards the Solar System.
Once they arrive, they will throw that giant machine into the Atlantic Ocean, forcibly raising the Earth's gravity by dozens of times.
Then replace the atmosphere with highly toxic gases, trample all of humanity like bedbugs on the ground, and transform it into their 'new home planet'.
After saying this, John turned around and looked at Lois was frozen in place, with a smile:
"So, Miss Ryan, is this news exciting enough?"
"What... what is all this?!"
Alien warlords? World Engine? Wandering fleet?!
"Sir, even a third-rate B-movie sci-fi screenwriter who's overdosed on drugs on the streets of Metropolis wouldn't use such a clichéd and idiotic premise."
"If I were to submit something like this as a manuscript... the entire American press would consider me a complete joke!"
Are you making fun of me?
"To amuse you?"
John smiled and shook his head.
"I'm not that bored... Let me show you something interesting, Miss Ryan."
He then took a step closer and slowly raised his right hand.
On the middle finger with its distinct knuckles, a plain, even somewhat cheap-looking dark green ring had appeared out of nowhere.
Next second.
The diamond-shaped groove on the ring suddenly lit up with a rich, eerie green light.
Under the pull of centrifugal force, green light slowly emerges from the fingertips, then flows and outlines rapidly in mid-air like liquid mercury.
Soon, a fountain pen emitting a cold, green glow appeared out of thin air in front of Lois.
"Here... pick it up and take a look, big reporter."
John raised his chin.
Lois stood there, stunned, for a moment.
Finally, unable to control himself, he reached out his trembling fingers and grasped the pen body formed from green light.