Soren was incredibly grateful and couldn't stop showering Tony with praise, calling him the most generous and amazing scientist in the world.
Tony was flattered by the compliments, he felt quite pleased and led Soren around the lab to familiarize him with the equipment.
Finally, they stopped in front of a fully automated assembly machine.
Tony crossed his arms and said, "Kid, what I'm about to say is very important, so listen carefully."
Soren looked at him with starry-eyed admiration.
"I never stop kids from following their interests. Sometimes, the most brilliant inventions come from young people," Tony said seriously, "But we have to agree on one thing: don't mess with dangerous stuff, okay? This lab has every tool and material you can think of, but I don't want to see you making anything that could hurt yourself."
Soren nodded earnestly, "Got it!"
"Good," Tony said, reaching out and patting Soren's head.
He'd been wanting to do this for a while, and the soft, curly hair felt just as nice as he imagined.
His fingers sank into the golden waves, filling with the gentle texture of Soren's hair.
It was oddly satisfying.
"Ahem." Tony cleared his throat, pulling his hand away from the young head with a hint of reluctance.
He checked his watch and said, "Alright, I'm off. Adults are always busy. Enjoy your crafting time, little inventor."
"Goodbye, Tony!!" Soren waved cheerfully, hardly able to hide his excitement as he saw Tony off.
He came to Tony to use the lab because he wanted to try making a gene suppressor himself.
Even though he knew that if he asked Tony, the young genius scientist would quickly help him make the suppressor, he couldn't explain everything about himself to Tony.
He couldn't explain too much, so he had to leave the final task to himself.
Soren wasn't really a natural at research.
He knew his strengths and weaknesses; he was definitely not an inventor.
However, his basic skills in building things were quite good.
Thanks to his military academy training, he learned many skills for assembling and making small weapons.
Later, at the Frontier Base, he even learned to repair some of the most advanced new weapons.
So… making a suppressor should be, well, not too hard, right?
After all, the people in New Earth could afford them, which meant they weren't very expensive and probably not very complex high-tech devices.
Soren thought about this.
But the reality was far more brutal than he imagined.
After drawing countless drafts, reverse engineering many suppressor models, and trying several versions of the physical device, he finally realized that it wasn't a simple task.
—He really didn't have the talent for making precision instruments.
Even though he had drawn the drafts perfectly, almost like the structure of the suppressor he remembered, he couldn't make a finished product.
There were always mistakes, and the suppressor wouldn't work or look like he imagined.
Soren sighed in frustration, with several golden hairs falling out.
How could he not be worried?
If he didn't get the suppressor sorted out soon, he'd be an adult in two or three years.
Soren gloomily covered his face with his notebook.
...
Clark Kent missed the school bus again today.
He could have made it if he had been on time, but just as he reached the bus stop, Whitney was walking past while holding Lana's hand.
A sudden, indescribable pain struck him, draining all his energy.
He collapsed to the ground, looking pale.
Pete, who had rushed over, helped him up in time, "Clark, are you okay? Why does this keep happening? Every time you see Lana, you suddenly fall down."
Clark weakly said, "I'm fine."
He turned his head, using his excellent vision to watch Whitney and Lana walk away, feeling completely confused.
As Jonathan would say, he was "strong enough to knock out a bull" since he was a child.
He knew he was gifted.
Except for the "asthma" symptoms before he awakened his super breath, he had never been sick or hurt by anything.
Except when Lana was around.
Whenever he got close to Lana, he felt inexplicably weak and tired, even experiencing sharp pain, like being cut with a knife.
Then he would clumsily fall down.
Only after Lana was at least three meters away could he start to recover his strength.
His friends Pete and Chloe thought he was just shy because he had a crush on Lana Lang, but Clark knew the truth was different.
Clark found it very strange.
He tried to avoid Lana as much as possible, but still ended up running into her and her boyfriend at school, causing him to fall and be mocked by his classmates.
His classmates, who had grown up with him, thought Clark Kent was a big guy with no strength who couldn't participate in sports and often fell down.
Few classmates wanted to play with him, except for Pete and Chloe, who were in the same club and had become his good friends at school.
Since Clark missed the school bus, he had to walk home with Pete.
After they split up on the road back, Clark watched Pete walk off into the distance before lifting his head and pushing off with his feet.
His legs moved faster and faster as he ran toward Kent Farm—
He was as fast as the wind, like a bolt of lightning racing through the fields.
His speeding figure sliced through the calm fields like a sharp blade, leaving a faint trail that quickly appeared and disappeared.
In what felt like a flash, he had sprinted from town to his front door.
He wasn't even out of breath, feeling as though he had simply blinked.
At that moment, the sweet, buttery scent of apple pie sneaked out from the house and drifted into the air.
As soon as he smelled it, a smile spread across his face.
Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he pushed open the door and headed straight into the kitchen.