Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who kill their fathers!

"Okay, pick three cards! Don't let me see them, but show your buddy. Remember your card, alright?"

Star-Lord held a deck of cards, showing it to two burly middle school students standing before him.

The two boys, each wielding a baseball bat, towered over Star-Lord, who was chubby and clearly outmatched.

They had just mugged him, yet couldn't understand why this kid wasn't crying and running home but instead offering to perform a magic trick.

"You've memorized it, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Great, hand me that card. I'll insert it back into the deck."

Star-Lord coughed, took their selected card, inserted it back into the deck, and shuffled deftly.

"Now, I don't know which card you picked since I didn't see it, right?"

One of the boys hesitated, then pointed his bat at Star-Lord. "Don't try anything funny."

"Relax, this will be quick."

After shuffling, Star-Lord pulled out the Two of Hearts and displayed it.

"This was your card, wasn't it?"

The two boys exchanged glances. "No, that's not it. You can't even do magic, idiot."

"It wasn't?"

Star-Lord frowned, inspecting the card closely. "That's odd."

"Hey! Cut the crap and empty your backpack, kid. No tricks, or I'll hit you so hard even your mom won't recognize you."

"No need for violence," Star-Lord said casually, pulling out another card—a Nine of Spades. With a sly grin, he added, "Maybe it's this one. Nine of Spades. Right?"

With a quick flick, the card jumped from his left hand to his right.

"Take a look. Is it the one?"

The boys were stunned by his sleight of hand, exchanging incredulous looks.

"Not bad," one admitted grudgingly. "Your tricks don't match your build."

They began to relax, chuckling.

The next moment, Star-Lord lunged forward, snatching the bat from one of the boys and delivering a sharp elbow strike to the other, knocking him down.

With the bat in hand, he grabbed the first boy by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

"You want to see another trick?"

The boy gulped, trembling. "N-no."

"What?"

Intimidated by Star-Lord's glare, the boy stammered, "I mean… yes?"

"You actually do?"

Star-Lord shoved him into the wall with a loud thud and turned to the boy on the ground.

He crouched down, fishing a Walkman out of the boy's pocket.

"You shouldn't have stolen my Walkman. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had to teach you a lesson."

His serious expression unyielding, Star-Lord pocketed the Walkman and walked off without a backward glance.

The two boys stared at his retreating figure, still shaken.

This chubby kid wasn't simple.

But soon, they questioned their judgment.

Star-Lord, now wearing headphones, was nodding along to his music, twisting his hips awkwardly, occasionally kicking stones on the roadside.

His cringe-worthy dance moves, paired with his build, were an eyesore.

"Yeah, he doesn't seem normal… more like an idiot."

Unaware of their mockery, Star-Lord was immersed in his world, feeling like he owned the universe.

At Podrick Farm, Peter watched Star-Lord stuff cookies into his mouth, his expression stern.

Three years had passed since the battle with Lucifer.

Clark and John were now ten years old.

By all accounts, three-year-old Star-Lord should still be a toddler.

But, as Kelly joked, this kid seemed to be part pig—already the size of a six-year-old.

Three years old? Even Peter had trouble believing it.

Still, he could accept it. After all, this troublemaker had activated his powers to fight Lucifer as an infant.

Premature development wasn't out of the question.

The only regret was that since that battle, Star-Lord hadn't used his Celestial powers again. Like Clark and John, it seemed his abilities would develop gradually with age.

"Star-Lord, have you seen Miss Kelly at the Kawachi tribe?"

Lately, Kelly had been busy with tribal matters and hadn't returned to the farm.

"Yes, Dad. Miss Kelly said she'd be away for a while. Something about a land dispute with the government. I don't really understand."

Star-Lord munched on cookies as he spoke.

"Hey!"

John frowned as crumbs fell onto him. "Can't you eat quietly and stop making a mess?"

"Sorry, this is how I always eat."

"You…"

John pushed back his chair, glaring at him. "Can you at least call me 'big brother' when you reply to me?"

"Sorry."

Star-Lord's apology lacked sincerity, further irritating Azu.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Star-Lord said, grinning. "Dad says I'm fine—sleeping, eating, everything's great."

Though carefree, Star-Lord was annoyed by John's constant nitpicking.

"If I bother you so much, Clark—"

Star-Lord carried his plate to Clark. "Let's eat together."

"Sure," Clark agreed without hesitation, oblivious to John's darkened expression.

Peter sighed at the scene. None of these kids gave him peace.

Maybe raising a daughter would've been easier—at least less chaotic.

"John," Peter called, giving John a look.

Pouting like an angry mushroom, John sat down obediently under Peter's stern gaze.

Clark, sensing the tension, tried changing the topic.

"Godfather, when is Mr. Jones visiting?"

"Next month, I think," Peter replied. "He's got a lot on his plate. You miss him, don't you?"

"Yeah, I have some questions for him."

Clark wanted to consult the Martian Manhunter about his extraterrestrial research project.

"Do your teachers assign fieldwork?" Peter asked.

"Yes. I need to gather data, but I can't remember where I saw it. Lately, I keep forgetting things."

Peter resisted the urge to tease him about his undeveloped super brain.

Star-Lord suddenly shouted, "Hey!!"

Clark dropped his spoon in surprise.

"Did you remember, Clark?"

"Huh?"

"Your forgotten data. Did you recall it?"

"No! Why did you yell?"

"Dad said sudden scares might jog your memory. I was trying to help," Star-Lord said earnestly.

Clark sighed. "I doubt that works."

After Clark and John left for school, Star-Lord stayed behind, too young to attend.

"Dad, can you teach me another magic trick?"

"You want to learn more?"

Despite growing up on a farm, Star-Lord retained traits from his past life: goofy, lively, kind-hearted, and inventive. He loved quirky gadgets, dancing, and music.

But beneath his sunny demeanor lay a sharp edge.

His maturity made him sensitive to others' feelings. While usually forgiving, his kindness had limits: harm those he cared about, and he'd show no mercy.

For instance, when someone insulted Clark and John, Star-Lord knocked them out cold.

This kid's impulsive streak was incorrigible.

"You just learned one yesterday," Peter remarked.

"That trick's stale now, Dad. I want something new," Star-Lord said, sounding disappointed.

Peter sighed. This mischievous, chubby face might've fooled others, but Peter wasn't buying it.

"Fine, let's try something different."

...

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