"Dad?"
"Is something on your mind, John?"
On the farm, after dinner, Peter and Azu were playing a game of waste paper basketball.
The two were competing to see who could throw the crumpled paper into the trash can first.
For Peter, who was gradually becoming superhuman, this was naturally no challenge at all.
But to keep the game fun, he intentionally threw the paper ball off target instead of precisely into the bin.
"A little. I had an argument with Clark."
Azu, feeling dejected, tossed his paper ball toward the trash can.
With a soft "plop," the ball landed right inside, but since he threw it too hard, it quickly bounced back out.
This made him feel even worse.
In the past, when he played this game with his father, he could always control his strength perfectly.
He knew he was too strong, so he had been learning to control his power with his father's help.
"You argued? What was the fight about?"
Peter crumpled a newspaper, then turned to face young Azu.
Azu hesitated a bit and said, "I said some things that were a bit harsh."
"So you think you hurt him? Is that right?"
"A little."
Peter casually tossed his paper ball forward. With a "thud," it obediently landed in the trash can.
He clapped his hands and said, "Looks like my luck is better tonight. I've made three shots already."
He knew why Azu and Clark had argued.
Clark had a tendency to cling to him, always eager to share everything with Peter.
This time, Clark had played the little tattletale again, telling Peter that Azu had almost sliced a car in half with his laser eyes.
Peter wasn't surprised by Azu's behavior.
After all, the kid loved using his laser eyes to cause trouble. In his previous life, he had used laser eyes to fry chickens and had even sliced a gunman in half when he was younger.
He also noticed that Azu had some personality issues.
While not as bad as his past life, he wasn't as stable as Clark.
For example, in his previous life, Azu had craved love and recognition and cared deeply about how others viewed him.
Even now, he showed signs of that—being sensitive and yearning for attention.
If Peter paid even a little more attention to Clark, Azu would immediately feel abandoned.
In his previous life, Azu had been moody, capable of blowing someone's head off in one moment and calmly faking a smile the next.
Now, this kid was showing the same traits.
One moment, he'd be happily playing a game, and the next, he'd push down and beat up a kid who badmouthed him quietly.
Now, it wasn't just about personality issues—it had escalated to the point where he was ready to kill.
He had even planned to deal with that hook-nosed guy who threatened him, though Peter didn't want it to happen that way.
That approach wasn't safe and was easy to trace back.
But Peter did appreciate Azu's intent to protect him.
Peter's mind raced with thoughts, and after a cough, he spoke to the still-dejected Azu. "Since you think you hurt Clark and realized it was a mistake, that means you don't want to end this friendship, right?"
Azu blinked. "Right."
"So, what do you think is the best way to handle it?"
"I—I should apologize to Clark?"
"Correct."
"But…"
Azu hesitated. "But wouldn't that…"
He wanted to say that apologizing would make him seem like the one in the wrong and make him lose face.
He cared a lot about what others thought of him.
Peter gently stroked Azu's blonde hair, understanding what he wanted to say. "It won't. It'll just make you seem more mature than Clark."
Azu's eyes lit up. "Dad, do you really think I'm more mature than Clark?"
"Of course."
Azu's mood instantly lifted.
"Well, except for the whole apology thing."
Peter asked him, "Is there anything else you want to tell me, John?"
Azu hesitated for a moment. "N-no."
"Really?"
Under Peter's sharp gaze, Azu began to feel guilty.
"I think… I might have done something wrong."
Though he wanted to keep it a secret, Peter's gaze pressured him into admitting it.
Peter wasn't just warm and nurturing—he occasionally punished Azu too.
For instance, banning him from watching TV for a day or making him eat veggies for three days.
Though it wasn't physical punishment, it was even worse in Azu's eyes.
He would rather take a beating since his thick skin made it painless.
So, cautiously, Azu confessed about causing the hook-nosed guy to crash his car with his laser eyes.
"Did I do something wrong, Dad? Clark said I messed up."
Azu asked Peter, looking a bit lost.
"No, you can't really judge it as right or wrong."
Peter explained to him, "You hurt him because he was trying to harm us, right?"
"Yeah."
Azu nodded eagerly. "He wanted to hurt you, Dad."
"Exactly. So they deserve punishment, but not in this way."
Peter was trying to teach Azu to be mindful of how he handled things.
"On one hand, not everyone in that car deserved a death sentence, and on the other, doing it this way could easily get you caught."
Peter told him, "Until you're strong enough, Azu, you can't reveal your powers."
"I understand now, Dad."
Azu nodded, though not fully grasping the lesson.
"Good. Now go and rest."
"Goodnight, Dad."
After bidding Peter goodnight, Azu headed upstairs to bed.
"Don't forget your milk. Drink it all before you sleep."
Peter reminded him.
"Okay, Dad."
Azu hurried upstairs.
It seemed that his love for milk was ingrained in his genes.
Growing up on the farm, Azu had developed a peculiar obsession with milk.
Even without Peter's reminder, he'd finish it in one gulp.
After Azu went upstairs, Peter sat down and casually picked up the mail from earlier.
Most of it was flyers from a Christian church and advertisements from the bank.
After quickly skimming through, he pulled out a funeral notice.
"Louis Wilson?"
Reading the name of the sender, Peter furrowed his brow.
Wasn't this his cousin?
Since transmigrating into this body, Peter had rarely contacted distant relatives, so his memories of them were somewhat blurry.
Opening the notice, he learned that his cousin lived in Smallville.
His cousin's youngest son had tragically died in a car accident, and the funeral was scheduled for the day after tomorrow. The cousin hoped Peter could attend.
Should he attend the funeral?
Peter put the letter down and gazed into the night outside.