บท 42: Chapter 42: I Am Also a Demon
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Peter still didn't know that his "mermaid" was now in Azu's hands, being used against Clark.
At the moment, he was at Old Horace's residence, watching as the man opened a safe.
Old Horace revealed a stash of green bills and jewels, saying, "This is everything I've stolen, but you can't take it."
Peter frowned. "Why can't I? Mr. Horace, I think you're mistaken. These things are originally mine."
Peter had already come to see the Luthor family bank in Smallville as his own.
Of course, the money in it also belonged to him.
Old Horace was stunned by Peter's bold claim.
Are there really people this shameless in the world?
After taking a moment to calm himself, Horace said, "With this money, I can do so much. We could change this wretched world."
"The laws are tools of the elite to enslave us, bankers exploit us for our hard-earned money. People like Lionel Luthor destroy our homes and take our savings. If we have the power to change these rules, why not do it together?"
Old Horace's voice was impassioned.
After decades in prison, he was ready to make his mark on the world.
However, Peter wasn't interested in his ambitions.
Shaking his head, Peter replied, "It sounds like you see yourself as some kind of savior of the world, Mr. Horace's."
"Yes," Horace said. "I want to be a savior, but I'm also a demon. Mr. Podrick, you're a demon too. We're the same. Why not work together?"
Peter was surprised by Horace's words.
He didn't expect this old man to be so full of righteous rhetoric.
Someone like him should be famous in Gotham, not hidden away in this small town as a security guard.
Clearing his throat, Peter pushed aside his stray thoughts and said, "You're right, Mr. Horace. You're a demon. I'm a demon too. And neither of us minds being one. Of course, I mind even less."
He continued in a calm tone, "But I'm past that phase."
Horace looked at him in confusion. "What phase?"
"The phase of pretending I was wronged, abused—playing the victim like a spoiled princess, as if the whole world were against me."
After expressing his disdain, Peter took a step forward.
Suddenly, he grabbed Horace by the throat, lifting him into the air.
"Guh… ugh…"
Horace's face turned red as he kicked and struggled.
"Too bad… you almost convinced me. Do you know why you failed?"
"Why?" Horace, his eyes red with fear, forced the word out.
"Because you're a wimp."
With a sickening snap, Peter broke Horace's neck.
With a thud, Horace's lifeless body hit the ground, eyes wide with unresolved anger and hatred toward the man.
Peter took a breath and looked out at the night sky.
The rain that had been falling all night seemed to be letting up.
In an abandoned factory, Jonathan and Martha, bound hand and foot, were desperately trying to find a way out.
"I'm sorry, Martha. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have been so stubborn," Jonathan said, filled with regret.
He should have agreed to visit Peter's place; otherwise, this monster wouldn't have captured them.
Now, not only had he failed to protect Clark, but he had also put his wife in danger.
Just as Martha was about to comfort her husband, they heard footsteps outside.
Jonathan and Martha held their breath, assuming it was Horace approaching.
The iron door creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped inside.
"Found you."
Hearing Peter's voice, the couple froze.
"P-Peter?"
Martha was stunned as Peter approached to untie her ropes.
"What's wrong? Surprised to see me, Martha?"
"No, I just… didn't expect you to come here. Peter, why?"
Peter freed her and then moved to untie Jonathan, who was equally shocked.
"Well, it's a long story, but I think we should get out of here first."
Amid the gentle sound of rain, Peter drove Jonathan and Martha back to the Patrick farm.
"Peter, I… Martha and I don't even know how to thank you," Jonathan said, feeling both guilty and grateful after hearing Peter briefly explain that he'd come alone after receiving Horace's letter.
"No need to be so polite. I'm Clark's godfather; we've always been family, haven't we?" Peter said, looking at Martha, whose eyes were moist with emotion.
"Yes, we're family," Martha replied softly.
She recalled an incident at a Walmart six years ago when Peter had risked everything to save her and Clark.
She wanted to say more, but the car had already arrived at the Podrick farm.
Stepping out of the car, she was shocked by the sight of the farm, which looked as if it had been bombed.
Beside her, Peter's eyes widened in shock as he looked at the farm, wondering if the government had hit it with missiles.
The ground was torn up, wet with rain and smelling strongly of soil.
Fence pieces lay scattered, and a large hole gaped in the barn wall, splintered wood strewn about.
The living room door hung halfway off its hinges, standing alone in the dark.
Through the door, they could see the mess inside—broken furniture, shattered tables, and damaged stairs bore signs of a fierce struggle.
"Oh my god!" Martha gasped, covering her mouth in disbelief.
"No! Clark!"
She suddenly remembered Clark was still inside and rushed into the living room.
Peter, his face grim, followed her.
Martha ran into the room, only to hear Clark mutter something that nearly made her trip.
"No! Martha is my mother. My godfather is my real father. I always knew it, John. You have laser eyes; you're nothing like my godfather!"
Clark lay on the floor, too weak to stand due to kryptonite exposure, but he managed to say something that left Azu fuming.
Just as Azu was about to silence him, he heard a voice that sent chills down his spine.
"Azu…"
The hellish tone in Peter's voice froze Azu in place.
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