Marvel: I Evolved Into Superman on My Own

"Splish!"

A wooden stick pressed down on a bloodshot, murky eyeball.

The eyeball easily shattered and cracked under the pressure of the stick, like mashed, boiled lamb's eyes.

"Buzz, buzz!"

A few ugly flies flapped their wings and flew out of the eyeball, which had long been hollowed out and consumed by insects.

"Smack!"

Jino tossed the stick, effortlessly swatting the flies, which looked incredibly wrong.

These flies were at least twice the size of normal ones.

"Lana."

Jino instructed without turning around, "Call the police."

"Huh?" Lana Lang, who was hiding in Clark's arms, poked her head out, then nodded quickly and rushed out of the house.

Every second spent here was an agonizing ordeal.

"Clark."

Jino's tone was calm as he stopped Clark, who was about to go find Lana Lang. "Something's not right about this. Focus."

Clark stopped, suppressing his nausea, and followed behind Jino. When he saw the unusually large flies, Clark instinctively asked, "Like that Electro-Man who appeared on the bridge back then?"

"Did Gerry also awaken a Superpower?"

"Yes, I'm afraid Gerry has also gained some kind of special ability."

Jino looked up at the ceiling, where there was a blurry trail of muddy footprints.

"Come on, let's go up and see."

Jino led Clark upstairs and quickly found Gerry's room.

The walls around the headboard were covered with posters of insects, looking bizarre and horrifying.

Stepping over a mess of broken glass, Jino's gaze fell on the large white Cocoons in the four corners of the room.

These things were woven from some kind of silk thread, bulging, seemingly wrapping something inside?

"Clark, open that Cocoon." Jino pointed to the Cocoon at the foot of the bed.

Clark stepped forward, forcing himself to pull hard despite the wet sensation on his hand from touching the silk threads.

"Rip!"

As the Cocoon broke, a shriveled, dried corpse, as if all its moisture and flesh had been drained, lay silently in the Cocoon, its mouth agape in a grotesque snarl.

"Oh my god!"

Clark's face showed his distress as he looked up at Jino. "He's dead?!"

"Yes, he's dead."

Jino walked over to the corpse, his gaze sweeping over the dried body's clothes—tattered and clearly belonging to a pauper. Also, there were some strange tattoos etched on its shriveled arm.

His gaze swept over the wound on the dried corpse's neck; it looked as if something had bitten it, leaving a hideous, gaping hole. One could even see the organ structures inside the neck through the opening.

Jino thought for a moment and gave his conclusion: "This person was probably a homeless wanderer from nearby, sucked dry of his flesh and blood, turning into this dried corpse."

Clark clenched his fists, looking somewhat angry, his eyes flashing with fury. "Did that Gerry do it?"

Jino ignored Clark's rhetorical question and continued his analysis, "It seems his mutation requires a large amount of human flesh to sustain itself."

Clark's expression was grim as he put down the dried corpse and stood up, looking at Jino with determination. "We have to stop him."

"Jino, what should we do?"

Meeting Clark's eager gaze, Jino fell silent.

He thought of a humorous DC Universe joke.

It was said that whenever Superman encountered a difficult problem, he would consult his Super-Brain.

And the Super-Brain's answer every time was, "Why don't you ask the smart Batman?"

Jino had a bit of a headache. If things continued this way, perhaps every major event in the future would have Superman's Super-Brain responding with, "Ask Jino what to do?"

Sighing, Jino walked over to Clark and patted the big boy's shoulder. "Do you know why I made you bring Lana Lang?"

"You mean?" Clark seemed to understand, yet not.

"That's right, Gerry is a pervert, and he's extremely obsessed with Lana Lang."

Jino put his arm around Clark's shoulder, leading him to stand by the window.

Through the window, they could see Chloe squatting on the ground, looking self-absorbed, and Lana Lang talking on the phone.

Jino chuckled, "As long as we keep an eye on Lana Lang, Gerry will definitely come looking for her."

"Think about it, what happens when an ordinary person suddenly gains terrifying power? Will he act on the evil thoughts he's suppressed deep inside?" Jino released Clark, clasped his hands behind his back, and gazed at the chemical plant in the distance, musing, "When a marginalized person who has been suppressed for so long suddenly gains extraordinary abilities, he will be eager to vent his inner rage."

"And what could give him a greater sense of accomplishment than taking possession of the goddess he's always dreamed of?"

Clark stood to the side, deep in thought, his gaze on Jino's back filled with admiration.

He truly couldn't fathom how Jino came up with those causal connections.

"Alright, there's nothing more to see here, let's go."

Jino led Clark out of the room. As they left, the young man's eyes swept over the Cocoons.

He wondered if those white threads shot out from Gerry's wrist. Otherwise, maybe they should call him 'Spider-Man'?

As the two stepped outside, Clark didn't forget to carry the unconscious Pete on his back.

When the group emerged from the house, a pale Chloe stood up, clutching her stomach. Her face was ashen, and she looked at Jino with a complex expression.

"Seriously, Jino, your mental fortitude is incredible."

"I truly don't know how you can look at those corpses without feeling the urge to vomit."

Clark nodded in strong agreement. He, too, was curious about what it would take to elicit an emotional reaction from Jino.

"Hey everyone, I've already called the police. They said they'll be here soon." Lana hung up the phone, her face clouded with worry as she approached the group. A flicker of remorse crossed the girl's brown eyes as she sighed, "I can't believe Mrs. Ted is dead."

For the next while, everyone was somewhat quiet.

Having just witnessed death, everyone's mood was quite somber.

Except for Jino, who was fiddling with his phone, seemingly texting someone.

About several tens of minutes passed when a wailing police car pulled up to the cabin at a steady pace. Two police officers, one stout and one thin, emerged from the vehicle.

Clark couldn't help but frown. He had seen these two officers before; they had come to his house to question them about Whitney's severed hand incident.

"Who called the police?"

The two officers looked at the four of them. Seeing their youthful appearances and the clear naivety in their eyes, it was obvious they were high school students.

So, their attitude was perfunctory. After all, responding to a call on a weekend wasted their time off, and the fact that they weren't openly showing their displeasure meant they had a good temperament.

"That was me, Officer." Jino stopped Lana, who was about to step forward.

When the two officers recognized Jino, they exchanged a glance and immediately put on friendly, enthusiastic faces: "Mr. Jino! What can we do for you?"

"Someone died inside the house." Jino pointed to the white house. "The deceased is Mrs. Ted, Gerry Ted's mother."

Hearing Jino's words, the two officers exchanged glances, their expressions gradually turning serious.

A murder case—this was no small matter.

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