The officer was montarily stunned. He sized up Kent from head to toe. Kent hadn’t changed, nor had he tidied himself up. Previously, he’d been stumbling and crawling around in the basent, getting filthy. Generally speaking, the police station wouldn’t entertain such people because they’re likely drug addicts experiencing illusions. Plus, he went straight for the chief, which was indeed strange.
However, Kent was so strikingly handso that even in his current shabby state, he had a peculiar charm. The only superpower the system couldn’t penalize was being handso. The officer couldn’t believe soone this good-looking could be a crazed drug user.
He opened his mouth but failed to say anything. After a pause, he finally said, "The chief is out on patrol, why don’t you wait for him?"
"Alright," Kent replied without saying much else, taking a seat in the reception hall. The officer, perhaps blinded by lust or foolishly enchanted by looks, even poured Kent a cup of water and said, "So, what do you have to deliver to the chief? What’s it about?"
"So leads on a case we had discussed before," Kent said, "But before I ca, my friend ran into so trouble. The car got stuck in the mud, and it took us quite a while to get it out. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have missed the scheduled ti."
The officer suddenly realized, but said, "I hadn’t heard the chief scheduled a eting."
Kent glanced around and lowered his voice, "I’m a reporter."
The officer looked at him in shock, scrutinized him once more, then said, "You certainly look like soone from the big city. Where are you from? Los Angeles?"
"I’m from the East Coast. I won’t say which city exactly. Don’t ask too much, or you’ll be inviting trouble."
The officer nodded and returned to his post. He now believed Kent’s words. Mainly because Clark Kent was the sort of person who didn’t look poor at all.
After all, Kryptonians are invulnerable; even if he fard for a lifeti, his hands wouldn’t have a single callous. The winds and sun of Kansas wouldn’t weather him into a redneck. His skin was smooth and glossy; his hair was dark, glossy, and didn’t thin; his back was straight; his face handso; and his gaze resolute. For ordinary humans, such appearance required considerable money and ti to maintain. So even if he looked a bit disheveled now, from these details it was clear that he was brought up with care.
Why the chief wanted to et an East Coast reporter wasn’t sothing a re intern officer was ant to ask. The more unclear it was spoken, the more room for speculation there was. It’s often no good news when police et reporters, and asking too much could only bring trouble for oneself.
After a while, the chief returned. Upon seeing Kent, he paused. Kent, however, stood up, proactively shook hands with the chief, and said, "Hello. I sent you an email earlier. Regarding the underground water system, I think there’s more for us to discuss. I’ve brought what you wanted. Shall we talk in your office?"
The chief imdiately narrowed his eyes. Kent did not avoid his gaze but t it head-on. The chief pursed his lips and, after a while, finally headed further into the station, saying, "Follow ."
Inside the chief’s office, the chief sat down, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sighed softly, saying, "I knew no good would co when the new kid headed over there. Tell , what happened."
Kent paused briefly but then produced a ring from his pocket and placed it on the chief’s desk. He keenly observed the mont the chief’s pupils constricted.
It was not an expensive diamond ring, just an ordinary silver band. Engraved inside was the surna "Stuart," while the na on the badge hanging on the chief’s uniform read "Chief Stuart."
He reached out cautiously and picked up the ring. Kent noticed his fingertips trembled slightly and that his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. After a mont, seemingly reconsidering, he tossed the ring back onto the desk.
He shook his head, leaned back, and said, "No matter what you want, I can’t give it to you. This isn’t a matter between you and , do you understand?"
"Of course I understand. But how will you have your new wife accept that you’ve simply abandoned her and the child she’s carrying?"
The chief suddenly clenched his fist. He looked up, fixing a hard stare on Kent. Kent nodded and said, "She was pregnant. But the child didn’t make it. Your child died together with her in a dark, damp basent. I couldn’t determine the cause of death. All I know is that his limbs were all broken, and there’s a very deep bruise on the child’s skull..."
"Enough!" The chief sprang up, "What do you want to do?! When she disappeared, I tried everything possible. But... but..."
He stood there, gasping for breath several tis, then sat down weakly at the table and said, "I know you might find it hard to believe, but what we’re fighting against isn’t human, it’s real Devils. They are everywhere. Compared to them, we are too weak, unable to do anything."
"I didn’t co here to bla you." Kent sighed as well and said, "I understand, you are the least willing to see this happen. After all, your newlywed wife and child died there, you are one of the victims too. And that thing is really tough to deal with; even though you’re the police chief, I bet you can’t do much."
"I ca here to tell you two things. First, your wife knows you’re feeling guilty. She wants to tell you it’s okay. And she entrusted to bring this ring back. Second, the things I need are few and absolutely within your capability. After I leave, you can completely act as if I was never here. Anything that happens afterward will have nothing to do with you. How about that?"
The police chief took a deep breath, placed both hands on the table, leaned forward, and looked at Kent saying, "I know, you must be from a big city. Coming to our small place, there are countless things you find intolerable. You’ll try your best to solve them, maybe you’ve helped a lot of people. That gives you the illusion that you can uphold justice. But matters concerning that small town are entirely different."
"Over the years, countless people have entered the town under various pretexts. Just like that new officer who ca before. His wife has relatives living in that town, so they went over, and then they never ca back."
"At first, I tried my best to warn them. But it was to no avail. Later, I realized, if I persist stubbornly, I will surely die."
"I admit I am a very cowardly person. My wife and child died in that town, and I couldn’t even investigate the truth. I watched as so many innocent people disappeared in the town, yet I didn’t dare utter a word. I don’t want to make excuses for myself, but since I was a child, I knew growing up in a place like this ans there are too many things you have to abide by. If you don’t cover your eyes, many things more terrifying than death will find you. I don’t want to beco like that."
Kent realized this police chief must know a lot but dared not speak. After thinking for a mont, he said, "You might feel my earlier words were ant to comfort you, like saying your wife forgave you, etc. You don’t truly believe I t her."
"I believe you found sothing in the town," the police chief said, looking into his eyes, "Perhaps you saw her bones, or maybe more bodies. But that’s not success. Kid, your nightmare may have just begun."
Kent didn’t say much more to him, directly took the cara off his neck. The ghost photo taken before was long gone, and the cara was already out of power, now pressing the switch couldn’t turn it on at all.
He handed the cara to the police chief and said, "Try this."
The police chief didn’t take it, he shook his head and said, "I know, you might have snapped so photos. But none of these can serve as evidence, and you can’t send them out. He won’t let you succeed..."
"No, I an for you to try using this cara. Pick it up and take a shot anywhere."
Kent insisted repeatedly, the police chief couldn’t resist him, and had no choice but to pick up the seemingly broken cara. Miraculously, the mont he touched the cara, the screen lit up.
The police chief raised the cara, casually took a shot at a spot. And when his eyes moved away from the lens, he saw on the digital screen below, next to Kent’s shoulder, a blurry woman’s Shadow staring at him.
"Oh! God!"
With a "snap," the police chief threw the cara out. He gasped quickly, constantly leaning back into the chair, his whole body trembling.
"Now you should understand what I was talking about." Kent said, "You should also have considered, if Devils exist in this world, naturally there would also be Angels, and God. You can’t deal with Devils simply because you haven’t found the right way. Isn’t that so?"
The police chief stayed like that for a while before daring to sit upright slowly: "God! My goodness... that... that was..."
"Don’t rush." Kent said, "I almost forgot to introduce myself. I’m an operator at Siv City ergency rescue center. Yes, my office is not far from here. Lately, I’ve been receiving a harassnt call at the sa ti every day. The call features a woman’s voice pleading for help, and in the background, there’s a circus advertisent. It’s through this clue that I located Big Creek Town. Do you have any leads on this matter?"
The police chief opened his mouth, instinctively still unwilling to speak, but the scene just now seed to have given him too much of a shock. He frequently glanced toward Kent’s side, perhaps due to guilt or maybe fear. He sighed and said, "Flying Angel ’Satean,’ founder of Qile Circus. Twelve years after the circus was established, she and her family were found dead in their ho at Big Creek Town. That was the first vicious murder to occur there. We call it the ’Big Creek Town Massacre.’"
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