Chapter 1219: The Farm of Justice (I)

The length of sunshine in Kansas makes the spring breeze here warmer. The wheat fields are blown by the breeze, and the surging wheat waves are like the footsteps of the goddess of spring.

On the field path, the early summer drizzle brings the scent of moist grass. If you step on the mud and take a few steps, you can see the shadow of the town on the skyline.

Smallville is located in the southern part of Kansas. It is also a little-known town, and it has even become a little-known town. The most attention paid here was caused by a meteorite falling here more than 20 years ago. Not that amazing of a discussion.

More than 20 years have passed, and most people have forgotten the original accident, and their excitement when they excitedly discussed whether there were words carved by aliens on the meteorite in the only tavern in the town.

But whenever those days are mentioned, every Smallville person's face is filled with a proud smile. That was the most eye-catching moment in this ordinary town.

The floral curtains were fluttered by the breeze, and a pair of slightly rough hands tied the curtains up with the same rough hemp rope. The middle-aged man with brown hair turned back and said: "...Yes, that night, I was there At the scene, you would never imagine how close I was to the meteorite, and the dust almost flew past my nose.”

"When the reporters came, they all asked me if I was injured. They thought I would still be alive if such a big stone fell on my head. If you ask me, these reporters were a bit exaggerated..."

"Hey, Joe, stop talking. Don't forget, our dear Xiao Ke is also an honorable reporter now. You will make him sad." A gentle female voice came from the kitchen next to her.

The back figure who is busy in the kitchen has beautiful brown-red curly hair. She is wearing a red plaid apron around her waist. She is holding a long spoon in her hand and is stirring the bubbling soup in the pot.

The aroma came from the kitchen. Clark, who was sitting on the sofa, felt like he had nails on his butt. He straightened his body every few dozen seconds, stretched his neck and looked back.

After he performed this action for about the twentieth time, Bruce next to him finally couldn't bear it anymore. He grabbed Clark's arm, looked at him and said, "Your eyes won't make the pea soup get better faster. Can you?" Would you like to sit quietly for a while?”

"I was just guessing what delicious food Martha would cook. Before dinner, I would make a bet with Xiaobu, but he guessed better than me every time, as if Martha was his mother... Ah, of course. , now it is a member of our family,” Clark said while stretching his head and looking back.

"Yes, we all like Little Boo. Originally, I wanted to raise a hound. However, Martha is a little allergic to animal hair. Fortunately, Little Boo doesn't shed much... Do you know? Clark, when I hear I was a little surprised when you said that this friend of yours has the same name as Xiao Bu. Did you name Xiao Bu after him? "

"Of course not, Dad, Xiaobu has his own ideas. I think cats have more opinions than dogs." Clark turned his head in another direction and looked back at the man who was tying the curtains.

"Don't worry, Bruce, you know how he is." Clark lowered his voice and said, "Jonathan sometimes makes some inappropriate jokes. His sense of humor is a bit strange. I hope you don't mind."

Bruce put a finger on his temple and sighed softly. He didn't expect that when he came to Clark's hometown of Smallville, Kansas, the first problem he had to solve was that there was another Bruce. It came earlier than him and took his name.

"Mi——"

A low and hoarse meow came from the corner of the stairs. When Bruce turned his head, he saw a black cat hanging its front paws on the blanket and stretching, and scratched hard on the carpet with two black paws. He kicked his hind legs again, and the hair all over his body exploded like an electric shock, and then calmed down again.

"Oh, no! Little Boo, you can't scratch the carpet! Bad cat!" Clark's father, Jonathan, rushed forward and picked up the bat cat from the ground. The bat cat nimbly ran to his shoulders and circled around. He jumped to the other shoulder with his neck crossed.

As if dancing, Jonathan stretched out his arms and scratched around his head. Clark stood up helplessly, grabbed the back of the Batcat's neck, and held it in his arms.

"How long does this guy plan to stay here?" Batcat's boy stared at Bruce, looking a little wary, sniffing slightly, and then lowered his voice and said to Clark: "He smells of blood, he must have done no good. "

"Don't say that, Xiao Bu. He is injured and his mental condition is very worrying. He is here to recuperate. He will probably stay for a few months until his mental condition gets better."

"Don't be stupid, his mental state won't get better." Batcat rubbed his claws on Clark's arm, then bared his teeth and said, "Otherwise, he wouldn't be Batman."

"He was not Batman originally, but Bruce Wayne, my friend, a mental patient who needs love and care. Remember, Xiaobu, you have to touch him. We have to care for the old, the weak, the sick and the disabled."

Bruce covered his forehead and said, "I'm not old, weak or disabled."

"You are." Clark looked at him and said with certainty: "You have three broken ribs, injured lungs, injured shoulders, a knife in the stomach, and a knife in the neck. Aren't you old, weak, sick, and disabled? Then Who is it? It can’t be me, right?”

Bruce was speechless, but there was a scream from the kitchen door. Clark turned around and asked, "What's wrong? Mom?"

Clark's mother, Martha, walked over as fast as she could, gently touched her earlobe and said, "Did I hear you right? What injuries did you just say he suffered? Did he get a knife?"

"More than one stabbing." Clark put his hands on his hips and pointed at Bruce with one hand: "He received at least four or five stabbings in a week, and one was cut on an artery."

Jonathan, who was next to him, also rushed over. A family of three and a cat stood behind the sofa, all staring at Bruce, as if they were looking at aliens.

Martha took the lead in tying her untied apron back on, and rushed around the dining table and chairs as quickly as possible back to the kitchen. While setting up the pot again, she said, "God, I said before that there would be one appetizer and two dishes." The main course, soup and dessert should be enough, but that's for normal people. Patients must supplement their nutrition. Let me see, make some fish stuffing first, and then a baked chicken..."

"Clark, why didn't you tell me earlier? I thought Bruce was just here for a visit. You should have told me earlier that he was so seriously injured so that I could prepare a nutritious and hearty meal in advance instead of a homely meal like today. vegetable."

"...Oh my God, where did the fish in the refrigerator go?" Martha exclaimed again, but the next second she raised her voice and shouted: "Little Boo! Little Boo! Bruce... I'm sorry, I didn't call you, I You’re calling our cat, Xiaobu! Did you eat fish again?”

Clark immediately opened Batcat's mouth, took a look and said, "I'm afraid so, Mom, and the haircut time was last night."

Martha lowered her arms, sighed and said a little sadly: "It's like this every time. When I want to do something, I always lack this or that..."

"Stop complaining, Martha, we still have a son. Clark, drive to make up for your dear mother's regrets." Jonathan waved his hand and said, "By the way, put the cat down. I hope the fish can survive." "Get off the pot."

While Clark took the car keys from Jonathan's hand, he hugged Batcat and said, "I will keep an eye on it. Let me take it with me."

Bruce stood up from the sofa and said, "I'll go too."

"Oh my God!"

"Oh my God!"

"Jesus is on top!"

Three exclamations sounded in unison, and Bruce froze on the spot, not knowing what he said wrong.

Jonathan held his shoulders, pushed him back to the sofa, and then said: "Stop talking nonsense, kid, you are covered with wounds, and now you tell me that you have to take a car to a place four miles away. Shopping? That will kill someone!”

"Four miles? Why so far?" Bruce asked.

"Because the only place that sells fish is in the town." Clark shrugged and said, "This is a farm in the suburbs. Four miles is close enough. If you live on a dairy farm, you might have to drive ten miles. ”

"I just want to go out and get some air." Bruce seemed very uncomfortable with the atmosphere here, as if he wanted to escape at any time.

Clark scratched his head and said, "But that's right. I heard Dr. Weir say before that patients should get more sun and breathe more fresh air. This journey is relatively smooth, so let's go together."

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief. Before Clark could react, he was already outside the door. Clark looked at him with some confusion and said, "Why are you in such a hurry? I still have to get shopping bags and hats."

"Go ahead." Bruce stood outside the door with no intention of going in.

"He's shy," said Batcat in Clark's arms.

"I didn't," Bruce denied.

"You do, I'm Batman too."

Clark pinched Batcat's mouth, gave Bruce a fake smile, and then quickly rushed into the house to get the hat.

After a while, he took out two sun hats, both of which were knitted straw hats. Bruce put them on his head and measured them. He found that they were a little blocking his sight, so he handed the hats back to Clark and said, "Forget it. , just wear it.”

Clark opened his eyes slightly and said, "Are you sure?"

Bruce nodded nonchalantly, and Clark thought for a moment, but instead of forcing him, he put the huge hat on Batcat's head, covering the entire cat.

The two of them and the cat came to the garage together. Bruce could be said to be dumbfounded as he looked at the old pickup truck in the garage that he couldn't even judge the age and brand with modern mechanical knowledge.

Bruce pursed his lips, swallowed again, looked at Clark and said, "Do you want to drive this thing to buy groceries?"

"Yes." Clark opened the car door and sat in the cab.

Bruce hesitated for a moment. He really didn't know how hard he should pull the door open to prevent the door of this pickup truck, which was probably older than Alfred, from falling off.

Unexpectedly, Clark turned sideways and stretched out his arms, pushed open the door on the other side, showed Bruce a warm smile and said, "I know you can't lift your arms, come on, I'll pull you up. "

Looking at Clark's outstretched arm, Bruce hesitated for a moment, but still held the edge of the door frame and climbed to the passenger seat with a slow movement. As soon as he climbed up, he heard the bat cat squatting in the back seat sneer like a cat's cry and a human's laugh.

Bruce wanted to turn his head to look at it, but at this time, Clark turned the car key twice, sighed, waved to Bruce and said, "It won't start, get out of the car."

Bruce stared at Clark in a daze. Clark shrugged and said, "You can't expect this pickup truck bought by my grandfather to work smoothly every day. We are unlucky today. The old man may be a little tired."

After speaking, Clark got out of the car. Bruce wanted to get out of the car slowly again, but Clark hugged his waist directly and took him to the ground, just like moving a bag of straw.

Before Bruce could react from the confusion of the sudden change of position, Clark had already strode to another garage.

After Bruce followed, Clark rubbed his hands and said, "Fortunately, we have a backup option, otherwise we really wouldn't have fish to eat today."

"Backup option..."

Before Bruce finished speaking, the garage door slowly opened.

And parked in the garage was a tall, majestic, colorfully painted, and full of the beauty of modern industrial machinery...tractor.