Night, Patrick Farm.
Peter was on the phone with Jonathan.
He glanced at Clark, who was sitting with Star-Lord in the living room, and said, "Yes, don't worry, Clark looks great."
"That's good."
Jonathan couldn't help but complain to Peter, "I don't know why he's so stubborn. I wasn't like this at his age."
Peter nodded, changed his posture, "Yes, I heard Martha mention that you were very obedient to your father, Jonathan. You never ran away from home one summer to join the Metropolis Sharks."
Teased by Peter, Jonathan coughed, "When did you join the opposition, Peter?"
"I've never taken sides. Clark can't do normal things. Besides Mark and Star-Lord, he has no other friends. He can't play in the minor leagues because you're afraid he'll hurt someone. He's grown up, Jonathan, you should give him a chance."
"His talent comes with responsibility, Peter."
"This isn't talent; it's a judgment. You're telling Clark you don't trust him."
Jonathan's voice came from the other end of the phone, "No, of course I trust him, but what if he arouses someone's suspicion? Like Old Hori last time. I don't want anyone coming to the farm and taking Clark away."
Peter switched the phone to his other ear, "I think if you don't trust him, he'll leave on his own."
Hearing Peter's words, Jonathan was speechless for a long time.
"Alright, Clark has a game this Friday. I think he'd definitely want to see you cheering him on at the field."
Soon, the two ended their call.
Returning to the living room, Clark thanked him, "Thank you, Godfather, thank you for signing the permission agreement for me."
"You're welcome. I'm really looking forward to your performance on the team, but remember to control your strength."
"I will."
Clark promised Peter.
Then he asked expectantly, "Godfather, will you come to watch my performance?"
"Of course, this is your first game, Godfather will certainly be there."
"That's great."
Clark excitedly waved his fist, "I'm definitely going to win!"
Star-Lord, sensing Clark's joy, said, "I want to participate too, Daddy."
"You can't with that physique, unless you go on a diet, but looking at your willpower, dieting will never be possible."
Mark, who was watching TV nearby, mercilessly mocked Star-Lord.
"I think my physique is just right for football."
Star-Lord didn't think he was fat at all.
According to him, it was called a strong sense of security.
"Then you can try it, you'll be knocked rolling all over the ground."
Mark could already imagine Star-Lord playing football and getting beaten up.
But he quickly remembered another very important thing, "Daddy, aren't we going hunting in the forest this Friday?"
Mark had been looking forward to the weekend hunt for a long time.
"Maybe we can change the time, not necessarily Friday."
Peter stated that hunting could be done at any time, but the game was only once.
"Daddy, are there reindeer in the woods?"
Star-Lord, who was nearby, asked curiously.
"Of course there are."
Peter patted Star-Lord's head, "You might see a moose in the forest. It won't cause you any trouble, except during mating season when moose are a bit restless. Other times, they just stare at people when they encounter them. These moose like to chase people during their rutting season."
"What's rutting season, Daddy?" Star-Lord asked curiously.
"You don't need to know that."
Peter coughed and said to the mischievous boy, "Also, you can't go into the forest alone. There are poisonous vines and oak trees in the forest. If your butt touches those things, Star-Lord, you'll have to take ointment baths for three weeks."
Hearing his father say he'd have to take ointment baths for three weeks if he went into the forest, Star-Lord immediately behaved.
"Actually, there are also dryads in the woods."
Mark, with ill intent, began to tell Star-Lord the story of the dryad.
"The dryad has a cow's tail and sings beautiful songs, attracting woodcutters and holding them captive."
Saying that, he looked at Star-Lord, "If you enter the forest, you might also be held captive by her."
Star-Lord blinked, appearing to be thinking.
"She has a cow's tail, so she should be able to plow, right?"
"Uh..."
Mark couldn't quite follow Star-Lord's train of thought, "Probably."
"If she can plow, I'll bring her back and have her work on the farm, so she can help Daddy lighten his burden."
Mark was stunned when he heard Star-Lord's words.
He hadn't expected that even though his unofficial younger brother was small, his skill at flattering his father was not inferior to his own at all.
Seeing Peter's satisfied expression, Mark clenched his fork unwillingly.
This little fatty... he really is my biggest threat!
After dinner.
Star-Lord was alone in the storage room on the second floor, organizing his strange gadgets.
Although he was young, he liked to tinker with small things.
Like a telescope that could observe outer space.
With his strong curiosity about the Universe, his favorite thing was to study these space-related items.
He placed the new lens he bought at the convenience store into the telescope, constantly adjusting various angles, hoping to create a telescope with the highest visibility.
He also hoped to one day build a spaceship and take the farm and Peter to space for a trip, leaving Mark alone here.
Inside his secret Base, there was also a music player for relaxation.
"Click!"
Star-Lord, in a good mood, pressed the button on the player.
Music came from the player, and Star-Lord's movements quickened with the rhythm of the music.
The sound of the music player carried out the door and reached Mark's ears.
Mark, who was reading a horror novel, immediately threw the book onto the bed in anger.
He originally disliked this music, and now hearing Star-Lord's loud music, he felt even more annoyed.
With a "swoosh," Mark flew out the window.
Inside the "secret Base," Star-Lord, who was listening to music and studying his telescope, suddenly saw a Shadow flash outside the window.
Confused, he looked up and out.
The next second, the music player, which was playing music, made a "crack" sound, and the song abruptly stopped.
Star-Lord looked at the player in astonishment. Smoke was coming from it, and two tiny holes appeared on it.
Time quickly came to Friday.
At the Smallville Elementary School stadium, the football players were having a pre-game pep talk.
"Alright, boys, get moving! I want you to knock them down fair and square, make these rascals fear us, understand?"
Clark listened distractedly to the coach's lecture while looking towards the stands.
In the stands, he saw Peter and Star-Lord sitting there.
Seeing Peter appear, after the coach finished his speech, he jogged to the stands to greet Peter.
"Thank you, Godfather, I'm so glad you could come. This means a lot to me."
"Of course I wouldn't miss your game, Clark."
Peter patted Clark's shoulder, "Go on, beat them to a pulp!"
"I will, Godfather."
Clark said with confidence.
After only a few words, Clark saw his father, Jonathan, appear.
Jonathan walked to Peter with a serious expression. Clark quickly greeted him, "Daddy, you came too?!"
He hadn't expected his father to come!
Was he here to cheer him on?!
But very quickly, Jonathan's words dampened his elevated mood.
"I still don't support your decision, Clark. My purpose in being here is to see if anyone gets hurt."
Peter saw Jonathan's bad temper flaring up again, and he pulled him, stopping him from saying more discouraging words.
"Alright, Clark, go play the game quickly, and remember to win it!"
Just then, the coach's shout came, "Kent, hurry up and get over there to play tailback."
Watching Clark's retreating figure, Peter said to Jonathan, "Don't worry, Clark knows what he should do."
Clark put on his gear, bent slightly, and waited for the game to begin.
"Blue Bunny, three-two-one, go!"
After the slogan was shouted, Clark hugged the football and rushed forward.
But after only two steps, he was tackled.
He fell heavily to the ground with a "thud," kicking up dirt.
Clark rolled over and looked at Peter in the stands.
The furious coach ran over and grabbed him by the Grid on his helmet, pulling him up.
"Look at me, stop looking at the stands. Your father isn't your coach, I am!"
The coach, like a hairdryer, yelled at him, "Get your damn focus, get your spirits up, attack others!"
Clark nodded blankly.
Standing at the kickoff spot again, his peripheral vision glanced at Peter, and he saw him give him a thumbs-up.
"Whew!"
Taking a deep breath, Clark's mood suddenly became completely calm.
"Alright, same tactic, Blue Bunny, three-two-one, go!"
"Go! Beat them!"
The teammates cheered each other on.
After the game started, Clark wasn't tackled this time. He tensed his body and used a little force, rendering the rushing teammates helpless.
"Thump! Thump! Thump!"
Teammates who continuously tried to tackle him fell to the ground.
Clark ran with the ball all the way to the opposing end zone.
Facing the rushing players from the opposing team, Clark suddenly jumped forward and, with lightning speed, dashed through to score a touchdown.
Watching Clark, who was playing like a god, score, the team immediately erupted in cheers and surrounded him.
Loud applause also erupted in the stands.
After celebrating with his teammates, Clark's gaze went to the stands.
What he saw was his father, Jonathan, leaving the stands.
Clark's previously excited mood was like having a bucket of cold Water poured over him.
"Kent, that's the way to do it! Well done!"
The coach patted him heavily on the shoulder, and his other teammates also chattered away.
Clark didn't pay attention to what these people were saying; he was feeling a bit down.
Looking at Peter, who was applauding him in the stands, an old thought suddenly popped into his mind: I wish Godfather was my biological father.