"Mr. Spike, what should we do next? Report to the board?" asked the subordinate as they sped along the rough road outside the farm.
Spike, with a sinister expression, shook his head. "No, that would make the board think we're incompetent, that we can't handle even a small matter like this."
"Then what should we do?"
The subordinate frowned, "Should we continue negotiating with him? Maybe he's refusing to sell the farm because he's unhappy with the terms we offered."
"Negotiate? I won't negotiate with a greedy man."
Sitting in the back seat and gazing at the rapidly passing scenery through the car window, Spike coldly replied, "He's in no position to set terms now."
"The lowest-ranked old wolves and sick wolves in a pack have no right to demand more food from the pack leader. That's against the rules. If I cave to his demands, he'll lose all respect for me."
Spike's tone turned disdainful, "He's the kind of person who'll take advantage of any concession I make. If I give in even a little, he might overstep his bounds. I'm not his father."
Just as he was comparing Peter to a sick wolf in the pack, something red flashed in the distance, catching his attention.
"What was that?"
Surprised, Spike immediately turned his head to the front of the vehicle.
"Red leaves? Quite beautiful," he said, crossing his legs and speaking to those around him.
But in the next moment, to his shock, the red light grew larger in the distance.
Bzzz!
A red laser shot toward the moving car, like a beam of death with overwhelming destructive power.
The laser barely missed the car, striking a tree on the side of the road and piercing through its trunk in an instant.
It wasn't red leaves—it was a deadly ray!
"Damn it!"
Realizing they were under attack, a horrified Spike shouted, "Turn around, turn around now!"
The panicked driver immediately slammed on the brakes.
Screech!
The car, moving at high speed, let out a piercing noise. But because of the speed, the vehicle lost control and slammed on a tree stump at the side of the road with a loud bang.
The car, out of control, skidded toward a deep ditch at the roadside.
Thud, thud, thud!
The car rolled down the ditch, flipping over multiple times before coming to a heavy stop at the bottom.
Inside the car, Spike was thrown around, his head, back, and arms hitting various parts of the vehicle.
The intense pain nearly made him pass out.
When the car finally stopped rolling, everything around him fell deathly silent.
Then groans filled the air inside the vehicle.
Spike opened his eyes and wiped the sticky substance from his forehead. The strong metallic smell made him realize it was his own blood.
Enduring the stabbing pain throughout his body, he lifted his head slightly and glanced at the others.
Everyone else in the car was awake; they seemed fine.
Cough, cough...
After coughing a few times, he struggled to speak to the others, "Call... call for an ambulance!"
Gasping for breath, he reached for the clothes he had left in the back seat.
His phone was inside, and he could use it to call for help.
Suddenly!
His eyes caught sight of a child standing on the road.
The figure was blurred by the night, but a pair of bright red eyes stood out vividly.
Spike shuddered.
The red glow in Azu's eyes faded as he turned away.
A smile appeared on his lips, one that Peter had been all too familiar with in a previous life.
But that smile quickly froze.
In the next moment, he saw Clark standing in front of him.
"John!"
Clark glanced at the wrecked car below, then turned his gaze back to Azu.
"Was that you?!"
"I don't know what you're talking about. I need to go home," Azu feigned ignorance and started walking away.
But Clark grabbed his shirt. "I saw it! Your eyes—they shot out something like laser beams!"
Clark couldn't believe it. His best friend had powers like a superhero.
"No, I didn't!"
Peter had warned Azu not to reveal his abilities in front of others.
He respected his father deeply; otherwise, he wouldn't have caused the accident just to get back at those bad guys for his dad.
"You shouldn't have done that," Clark said, though he admired Azu's powers, he still felt it was wrong.
At this point, Clark's Kryptonian powers were still developing slowly, and he still thought of himself as an ordinary person.
"What?"
Azu, angered, glared at him. "I was punishing the Dark Lord, Clark."
"He wants to take my family's farm and threatened my dad. No one can do that to my dad!"
Clark's face flushed, "But you shouldn't hurt people. Godfather says it's wrong to hurt others."
"Punishing bad people isn't hurting others."
Azu was upset that Clark wasn't taking his side. "They want to hurt my dad—is that okay?"
"But they haven't done anything yet. It's dangerous," Clark insisted, holding firm to his beliefs.
Despite his young age, the values instilled in him by Jonathan and Martha were already taking root.
"Because he's not your dad."
Azu snapped angrily, "Your dad is Jonathan!"
Clark stared at him, shocked. "No, Godfather is my dad too."
"You don't care because you don't love him. That's why you don't care if someone hurts him," Azu said, his voice growing more emotional. "You eat at my house, sleep there, and my dad even plays football and draws with you!"
The more Azu spoke, the more wronged he felt, like a child starved of love.
It was as if Clark was the real son, and he was the outsider.
Even though Peter also spent time drawing and playing football with him, Azu believed he spent more time with Clark.
"I hate you, Clark, because dad cares more about you. You've stolen him!"
Azu finally voiced his true feelings.
Clark, who had never realized Azu's sensitive inner world, was stunned.
"But you don't stand by him, and now you're even defending the people who want to hurt him," Azu felt betrayed by both Clark and his dad.
With that, Azu shoved Clark to the ground and stormed off without looking back.
After walking a short distance, Azu began to regret his actions.
He glanced back to see Clark still lying on the ground.
He wanted to go back and help him up but couldn't swallow his pride.
"Why should I help him? It was his fault."
Azu muttered to himself as he walked down the road.
"I'm not wrong. Clark is the one who's wrong."
Yet despite his words, a deep sadness soon crept over him.