Looking up at the calendar on the wall, he remembered there was a meteor shower recently, wasn't there?
If it was this meteor shower, he would have to prepare early.
The next day.
Peter sat in the living room, watching the news about Gotham.
"Currently, the unrest in Gotham has calmed down."
The host reported the latest news, "The Gotham Police Department raided the Terrorists' laboratory last night, finding the antidote to the biochemical virus, and the conflict and chaos were quelled by the Gotham Police Department with minimal cost."
Immediately appearing on screen was the Gotham Police Department Director Nathaniel Barnes, telling the media about the Police's achievements.
After turning off the TV, Peter turned his gaze to Mark, who was coming downstairs.
"John?"
Peter called out to the mischievous boy, "I think we need to talk."
Mark nervously walked up to Peter, "Okay, Dad."
He tried hard to recall if he had done anything to upset Peter recently.
Sneaking a peek at a horror movie?
Or accidentally breaking Peter's fishing rod?
But he couldn't be blamed for the fishing rod incident; Clark had said his "spinning lure" was very effective, which was why he had secretly taken Peter's fishing rod to go fishing.
"I heard that yesterday you called a Gypsy 'Gyppo,' do you know that 'Gyppo' is a racist term? It's a completely racist term, John, why would you call them that?"
Peter decided to correct the boy's racial views.
Who did this kid learn his racist knight from?
As for the obsession with Mexico's Day of the Dead skulls, that was still within controllable limits.
"Sorry, Dad, I heard them say that Gypsies always trick people, and also steal babies and all sorts of other things."
Mark's expression was very sincere, "Dad, I won't do it again next time."
"Remember what Dad told you? Don't look at things with prejudice; it will hinder your correct and objective understanding of the World and distance you from others."
"I know, Dad."
Mark subconsciously nodded.
"But I heard they can tell fortunes, predict destiny through tea leaves, or by looking at the bottom of a wine glass, Dad, is that true?"
Mark asked curiously.
Peter didn't know much about the Gypsies' fortune-telling methods.
Although he thought most of them were probably con artists, he hesitated when he remembered this was a U.S. comic World.
Clearing his throat, he vaguely told Mark, "Destiny has its specific ways of operating, specific rules, and sets special requirements for those who can glimpse the mysteries of destiny; I don't think it's absolute."
Mark nodded, "Ms. Nancy on Ginny Street claims to be a fortune-telling Gypsy, but everyone says she's a fraud."
Mark shared the news he had heard with Peter.
"Many people say she sells goods: crystal balls, purple tassels, wind chimes, pungent incense, and a fat cat lounging on a pillow—these are all her wares displayed in the window."
"Do you know her, John?"
"No, but I've seen her; she doesn't look like a Gypsy at all, more like a notary, no, she looks more like a little manager at a church bake sale: a light grey-blue cardigan, red hair, and reading glasses perched on her nose."
Peter nodded, patted his hair, and stood up, "It's almost noon, Dad needs to make you guys lunch; we can talk about Ms. Nancy's gossip tonight."
When Mark heard Peter was going to cook himself, his little face immediately turned into a bitter gourd.
After eating the food Martian Manhunter had made, he never wanted to eat Peter's cooking again.
But under Peter's oppressive power, he didn't dare to say words like "Dad's food isn't good," so he could only accept it silently with a bitter face.
Smallville, near the Susquehanna River.
Leno Luther was inspecting the construction site, accompanied by a group of people.
Luther Group planned to build an industrial park here.
Construction of the park had been temporarily halted due to the previous wildfires, and today was the day the industrial park's construction resumed.
"Hey, you can't go in."
The site's security guard stopped a person dressed as a local native.
"This is land owned by my people for over a thousand years, why can't I enter?"
The bronzed-skinned old man, wearing a loose round hat, spoke to the other party with a serious expression, "You should not encroach on this land."
"I'm just security; I'm not very clear about your land disputes."
The security guard stated that he didn't care about these disputes.
His job now was to prevent the other party from entering.
Just as the two were arguing, Leno Luther heard the sound and walked over.
"Sir."
Seeing his boss approach, the security guard immediately turned around and greeted him respectfully.
Leno looked at the old man with a tight, serious expression, "Sir, is there anything I can help you with?"
"You are their leader?"
Leno nodded, "I suppose so, I am Leno Luther."
"Very well, then I'll talk to you, do you know that this land has been guarded by our ancestors for generations?"
"Not entirely clear, Chief, but our procedure for purchasing the land is legal, and furthermore, the purpose of building our industrial park is to help more people here find employment; I just want to help the people in this town, that's all."
The Chief stared into Leno's eyes, "It sounds like I'm preventing the town's people from living better lives, Mr. Luther, but my eyes are sharp; I can tell at a glance who is a wolf in sheep's clothing."
Leno remained calm, not getting angry because the other party called him a wolf in sheep's clothing.
"Chief, trust me, I can resolve the issue properly, and we can coexist peacefully."
The Chief shook his head before the other party finished speaking, "Please forgive my skepticism; every time we are asked to coexist peacefully with you, we are either killed or driven to desolate and backward places."
"Regardless, Chief, we will resolve the issue; I will send someone to contact you shortly, I have other matters, so please excuse me."
Leno said a few words to the other party, then turned and left.
As he walked towards the office, he asked the person in charge, "Are they indigenous people?"
"Yes, local indigenous people, a nearby tribe; some believe they are descendants of Gypsies, a tribe formed by intermarriage with Incas; their tradition is to be rigid and believe in nature gods."
The person in charge explained to Leno, "They have protested several times about this."
Leno nodded and said with a serious expression, "Then deal with them; I don't want to see any unexpected issues with the project progress, understood?"
"Yes, Sir."
After giving instructions to the person in charge, Leno turned and looked towards where the Chief was standing.
He found that the other party had not left and was still standing there, watching him.
Leno shook his head, dispelling the strange feeling in his heart, and turned to leave.