"Bang!"
A gunshot rang out. A brass shell casing clinked to the ground, rolling into the pool of blood.
Mike glanced at the corpse, strode past it, and turned to leave.
Mission complete.
He and the organization were now even.
At least, that was the agreement.
After leaving the target's apartment, Mike drove off. He circled the streets a couple of times at random, making sure no one was tailing him. Only then did he head to a baby supplies store, buying formula, diapers, clothes, and a few toys. After that, he left New York directly and drove to a small town dozens of kilometers away. Another ten minutes of driving brought him to a farm on the outskirts of town.
Kent Farm.
This was his home—something no one in the Assassin Alliance knew.
Since coming to this world from another Earth over five years ago and inheriting the farm from his deceased parents, he had only visited it a handful of times.
For years, the farm had been managed by an elderly couple. Three months ago, their children took them away, and the farm returned to him.
Originally, he had planned to sell it. But something that happened two months ago completely changed his mind.
Two months earlier, when he came home to deal with the farm—intending to sort everything out and sell it that very night…
"Boom!"
With a violent tremor shaking the ground, an uninvited guest smashed a deep crater into his farm.
"What the hell?"
Mike, who had been asleep, sprang up, threw on his pants, grabbed a jacket, snatched the weapon by his pillow, and rushed outside.
When he reached the nearby cornfield, he saw that a large patch of neatly arranged crops had been flattened. At the center of the impact was a deep crater—and inside it, a small… spaceship!
Seeing it, his eyes widened.
Ever since learning that Captain America existed in this world, he thought nothing could surprise him anymore. Yet seeing a spaceship crash into his own land still filled him with a sense of absurdity.
The ship was small, but it radiated advanced technology.
"What's going on?"
Mike approached cautiously.
As he got close, the ship automatically opened, revealing a baby inside.
Wait… a baby?
Staring at the sleeping infant, Mike froze—until the baby suddenly let out a loud cry, snapping him back to his senses.
Why does this feel so familiar?
A thought flashed through his mind. He quickly stepped forward and lifted the baby out of the ship.
The infant was completely naked—a boy.
There was nothing on him to indicate his identity. Just then, something like a key popped out of the ship and floated in front of Mike.
He reached out, caught it, and examined it—his pupils shrinking.
At the top of the key was an "S"-shaped emblem.
And that symbol…
"Krypton? Superman!?"
He blurted it out, staring at the baby in disbelief.
This is the future Superman?
Then what role am I supposed to play?
"Waaah!"
The baby seemed to sense something and cried loudly.
Pushing aside all his questions for now, Mike quickly took off his jacket and wrapped the infant in it.
Feeling the warmth, the baby stopped crying. Under the silvery moonlight, the child opened a pair of clear, sky-blue eyes and looked at Mike, breaking into a smile.
In that instant, Mike felt as if struck by an electric current. His heart clenched.
He remembered—
Back before he had crossed into this world,
The moment he first held his own son.
The two memories overlapped, and long-buried longing and sorrow surged within him, followed by a profound sense of life's wonder.
After a few seconds of silence, he gently teased the little one in his arms and said softly but firmly, "From now on, please take care of me, little guy."
As the words fell and he turned around, a cold, indifferent voice—long forgotten—suddenly echoed in his mind.
"Father of Heroes System successfully activated. Host-exclusive ability unlocked."
"What?"
Mike thought he had misheard. But in the next second, a system interface appeared in his mind.
Father of Heroes System… what kind of ridiculous name is that? What kind of system is this?
The corner of his mouth twitched as he walked home, checking the system.
Host: Mike Kent.
Beginner Reward: Assassin Time.
Ability: Memory Imagination Manifestation.
Current Ability Level: LV1.
Current Progress: 0.
Memory Imagination Manifestation? What kind of ability is that?
Puzzled, Mike continued reading.
Below his information, there was a name.
Son: Clark Kent (Kryptonian).
So this child really is Superman? He doesn't even need to name him?
Looking at the system, Mike finally confirmed the identity of the baby in his arms.
Aside from that, there was no further information under Clark's name.
Wait…
The system has Clark's name—so does that mean Clark's appearance is related to the system?
Could it be that because of the system, Clark appeared before him?
Otherwise, how could it be explained that the system activated right after he decided to adopt Clark?
After all, ever since the system gave him the beginner gift—granting him the assassin abilities from the Assassin Alliance—it had gone silent. So long that he had almost forgotten it existed.
The system's name, plus the Clark delivered right into his arms…
Mike rubbed his forehead helplessly.
What kind of ridiculous system is this!?
It looks like he has abilities now—and they can even level up. But how?
Isn't there some kind of manual!?
Unable to resist complaining, Mike looked at the sleeping Clark in his arms. Seeing the little guy peacefully asleep again, he couldn't help but smile.
Innocent, pure, beautiful…
From that moment on, he decided to leave the organization. Over the next two months, he worked toward that goal.
Tonight, he had finally completed his last mission.
As agreed, he was now even with the organization.
Muttering to himself, he parked the car and pushed open the door.
It was already late, but he noticed that Clark's room light was still on.
Maybe Clark is still awake?
He softened his footsteps and walked toward the room.
Over the past two months, because of his missions and settling accounts with the organization, he had no choice but to hire a nanny.
They had spoken many times over the phone. The nanny said Clark was well-behaved and rarely cried. Mike had come back once in between, and seeing Clark in good spirits had reassured him.
Standing at the door, Mike quietly pushed it open.
A desk lamp cast a gentle glow. A plump middle-aged woman was sitting by the window, holding Clark and teasing him with her finger.
The softness on Mike's face instantly vanished, replaced by a cold expression.
"How did you find this place?" he said sharply.
"Huh? Sir? What are you talking about? Why are you back at this hour?"
The woman looked up, confused.
Mike's hand moved to his waist.
"You know," he said, "from this distance, I won't miss—Raven."