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Chapter 246: Trojan Horse
Wonder Woman's party went off without a hitch. Orin Vale arrived on time, and the Old Wizard served a table full of cuisine. Although many of his eccentric new creations were mixed in, it seemed he had prepared some more conventional food out of consideration for the guests.
It had to be said that although the Old Wizard always enjoyed dabbling in strange scientific research, his culinary skills had improved significantly after serving as HISHE's head chef for so long. As long as he wasn't trying to be funny, the dishes he made now were, to be fair, quite excellent, no worse than those of some Michelin-starred chefs.
During the party, Orin Vale also gave everyone a basic rundown of Apokolips, covering the New Gods who reveled in war and conquest, and the most outstanding among them, the Lord of Destruction, Darkseid.
From the current situation, it was clear that Apokolips and Earth were on the brink of a major war that could erupt at any moment. Everyone needed to keep their eyes wide open and be extra vigilant while going about their daily routines in their respective territories.
After a few rounds of drinks, Superman received a call from Lois. At this time, Lois was rookie reporter Clark's golden partner, and the two were practically inseparable on any assignment. According to Lois, she wanted to discuss an investigation they had scheduled for tomorrow.
So, Clark said his goodbyes and left first.
As luck would have it, just ten minutes after Clark left, the terminal recovered from the Parademons in the laboratory was successfully decrypted.
It contained some reports on human research, technical details on Parademon modification, and more importantly, the current mission of the Parademon squad.
Primary Mission One: Capture the Martian. However, due to the Martian's proficiency in mental shielding and appearance transformation, his specific location could not be confirmed. The search was ongoing.
Primary Target Two: The Kryptonian Kal-El, Superman. Identity confirmed: Metropolis reporter Clark Kent. Mission status: In progress.
A Parademon squad, armed with Kryptonite weaponry, was already heading for the Daily Planet at this very moment.
The party hadn't ended when Pal's report came in. Seeing this, Orin Vale, still at the dining table, immediately ordered Pal to contact Superman.
"Signal is jammed. Can't get through," Pal replied. "All signal frequencies centered around the Daily Planet have been cut off."
"That means they're about to make their move."
Orin Vale rose from the dining table.
Kara noticed his movement. "Did something happen?"
"Apokolips has made its move. They're carrying Kryptonite weapons and want to capture Superman."
Everyone was shocked. Kara shot up to her feet. "Ah, then we have to... we need to hurry and help Kal."
Diana and Martian Manhunter also immediately expressed their readiness. But Orin Vale was faster. He took off ahead of the others, moving like a gust of wind. The scenery before him shifted rapidly from cityscapes to mountains, lakes, and back to a city, changing as if through a high-speed zoom lens. In an instant, he had already flown to Metropolis.
Just as he arrived at the Daily Planet, he discovered that the Parademons seemed to have gotten there first. As he landed, he saw a Parademon flying out from the top of the skyscraper.
However, upon seeing this, Orin Vale froze, completely stumped by the situation.
He never would have expected things to unfold like this.
A few minutes earlier, at the Daily Planet.
"Are you crazy, Zod?"
The Daily Planet's editor-in-chief, Perry, stared wide-eyed at the veteran reporter before him—Zod, a standard middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a beer belly, currently stuffed into a ridiculous Superman uniform.
That's right, the middle-aged reporter Zod was wearing a Superman-style blue bodysuit and red trunks, stretched taut over his portly figure in a comical fashion. He even had a cheap-looking, hand-woven red cape on his back.
"I'm serious, Chief. Because I've thought about it," Zod said with a straight face. "Every Superman story is either by Lois Lane or Clark Kent. Every time I get a lead, I rush over like a bolt of lightning, but no matter how many red lights I run, I'm never as fast as them."
"I thought about it carefully, and then I devised a plan."
Perry eyed Zod's laughable Superman costume with the expression one might use on an idiot.
"Don't tell me your plan is to simply declare yourself Superman so we can interview you, is that it?"
"How did you know?" Zod was greatly surprised.
Perry was speechless.
"But not Superman. Look, there are so many superheroes now. Why must we only interview Superman? Can't the Daily Planet have its own superhero?"
As he spoke, he proudly tried to puff out his chest, but only managed to stick out his round belly.
Perry's face darkened. "So you can fly?"
"No."
"Super strength?"
"Don't have it."
"Are you fast?"
Zod's eyes widened. "How can a man say he's fast?"
"Then what the hell are you talking about?"
"But I've studied boxing for a few years!" Zod said hurriedly. "Add some professional armor, and fighting criminals won't be a problem..."
"By 'professional armor,' you don't mean hockey gear, do you?" Perry said with a grim face.
"Huh? You can read minds? How did you know again?" Zod asked, amazed.
"Because last month in Gotham, some idiot painted hockey gear black to pretend he was Batman. He was sent to the hospital and nearly became a vegetable," Perry said coldly.
In this day and age, such incidents were not uncommon. Superheroes were popping up in every city and region, and many "good samaritans" tried to emulate them. But the results...
Let's just say they were mostly disastrous.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Perry rubbed the bridge of his nose, deciding to temporarily ignore the absurd reporter. "Come in."
Clark, having just flown back from Gotham, pushed the door open. "Perry? I heard you wanted to see me. I was just... what is this?"
Clark entered the room and saw the pot-bellied, middle-aged reporter Zod cosplaying as him, and for a moment, he too was at a loss.
"Zod, are you headed to a costume party?"
"What costume party?" Zod proudly put his hands on his hips, sticking out his belly again. "I'm about to make my debut!"
"Debut... in a band for the middle-aged and elderly?" Clark asked cautiously.
"How rude! I'm debuting as a superhero!" Zod huffed. "Don't get too cocky, Kent. I won't let you interview me when the time comes!"
"Alright."
Clark looked at his beer belly, then at his receding hairline, at a loss for words.
At that exact moment, a scream echoed from the hallway outside. A storm erupted, and a hurricane swept through the long, narrow corridor, blasting the office door open.
A squad of Parademons charged into the Daily Planet and burst into the editor-in-chief's office.
Without a word, the leader tossed a hand grenade inside before even fully entering.
Clark's pupils contracted. He instinctively tried to move forward and shield the ordinary people in the room with his body. However, the grenade's explosion unexpectedly contained green Kryptonite radiation. It slammed him backward, knocking him and everyone else in the room unconscious.
Several Parademons entered the room. Their gazes swept across the scene, cross-referencing with the portable terminal on the back of their hands.
An interface popped up on the terminal. On one side was a photo of Superman, with "Scanning for match" displayed next to it.
Then, the camera lock automatically fell on Clark, who had been blasted to the ground.
"DNA match successful. Target found."
The Parademons looked at each other, then at the glasses-wearing, suit-clad Clark, and then back at the picture of Superman on their terminal.
"Wibbly-wobbly?"
"Wibbly-wobbly. This guy has frames on his face, Superman doesn't."
"Wibbly-wobbly-wibbly-wobbly. The system must be broken."
Then, the Parademons' gazes collectively fell on Zod, standing nearby in his Superman uniform with his beer belly.
The Parademons' eyes all lit up.
"Wibbly-wobbly! That's him! He's identical!"
And so, the Parademons, overjoyed, ignored the continuous error messages from their portable computer, grabbed Zod, and flew away.
That was the scene Orin Vale witnessed upon his arrival. A squad of Parademons carrying a middle-aged reporter dressed as Superman, chatting and laughing as they flapped their wings and departed.
Orin Vale was speechless.
He knew Parademons were stupid, but this was just too ridiculous...
He was about to intercept them, but then a thought struck him. This was an opportunity.
Superman wasn't just some random person they grabbed off the street. This squad's mission was to capture Superman, so they probably wouldn't just return to some nearby stronghold. It was highly likely they would take him to a high-ranking official on Apokolips.
In that case, why not let them lead the way?
With this in mind, Orin Vale flew forward, his body deconstructed into a photon state, and shot straight into the unconscious reporter Zod's body.
This move... this move was the Trojan Horse.
(end of chapter)
Wonder Woman's party went off without a hitch. Orin Vale arrived on time, and the Old Wizard served a table full of cuisine. Although many of his eccentric new creations were mixed in, it seemed he had prepared some more conventional food out of consideration for the guests.
It had to be said that although the Old Wizard always enjoyed dabbling in strange scientific research, his culinary skills had improved significantly after serving as HISHE's head chef for so long. As long as he wasn't trying to be funny, the dishes he made now were, to be fair, quite excellent, no worse than those of some Michelin-starred chefs.
During the party, Orin Vale also gave everyone a basic rundown of Apokolips, covering the New Gods who reveled in war and conquest, and the most outstanding among them, the Lord of Destruction, Darkseid.
From the current situation, it was clear that Apokolips and Earth were on the brink of a major war that could erupt at any moment. Everyone needed to keep their eyes wide open and be extra vigilant while going about their daily routines in their respective territories.
After a few rounds of drinks, Superman received a call from Lois. At this time, Lois was rookie reporter Clark's golden partner, and the two were practically inseparable on any assignment. According to Lois, she wanted to discuss an investigation they had scheduled for tomorrow.
So, Clark said his goodbyes and left first.
As luck would have it, just ten minutes after Clark left, the terminal recovered from the Parademons in the laboratory was successfully decrypted.
It contained some reports on human research, technical details on Parademon modification, and more importantly, the current mission of the Parademon squad.
Primary Mission One: Capture the Martian. However, due to the Martian's proficiency in mental shielding and appearance transformation, his specific location could not be confirmed. The search was ongoing.
Primary Target Two: The Kryptonian Kal-El, Superman. Identity confirmed: Metropolis reporter Clark Kent. Mission status: In progress.
A Parademon squad, armed with Kryptonite weaponry, was already heading for the Daily Planet at this very moment.
The party hadn't ended when Pal's report came in. Seeing this, Orin Vale, still at the dining table, immediately ordered Pal to contact Superman.
"Signal is jammed. Can't get through," Pal replied. "All signal frequencies centered around the Daily Planet have been cut off."
"That means they're about to make their move."
Orin Vale rose from the dining table.
Kara noticed his movement. "Did something happen?"
"Apokolips has made its move. They're carrying Kryptonite weapons and want to capture Superman."
Everyone was shocked. Kara shot up to her feet. "Ah, then we have to... we need to hurry and help Kal."
Diana and Martian Manhunter also immediately expressed their readiness. But Orin Vale was faster. He took off ahead of the others, moving like a gust of wind. The scenery before him shifted rapidly from cityscapes to mountains, lakes, and back to a city, changing as if through a high-speed zoom lens. In an instant, he had already flown to Metropolis.
Just as he arrived at the Daily Planet, he discovered that the Parademons seemed to have gotten there first. As he landed, he saw a Parademon flying out from the top of the skyscraper.
However, upon seeing this, Orin Vale froze, completely stumped by the situation.
He never would have expected things to unfold like this.
A few minutes earlier, at the Daily Planet.
"Are you crazy, Zod?"
The Daily Planet's editor-in-chief, Perry, stared wide-eyed at the veteran reporter before him—Zod, a standard middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a beer belly, currently stuffed into a ridiculous Superman uniform.
That's right, the middle-aged reporter Zod was wearing a Superman-style blue bodysuit and red trunks, stretched taut over his portly figure in a comical fashion. He even had a cheap-looking, hand-woven red cape on his back.
"I'm serious, Chief. Because I've thought about it," Zod said with a straight face. "Every Superman story is either by Lois Lane or Clark Kent. Every time I get a lead, I rush over like a bolt of lightning, but no matter how many red lights I run, I'm never as fast as them."
"I thought about it carefully, and then I devised a plan."
Perry eyed Zod's laughable Superman costume with the expression one might use on an idiot.
"Don't tell me your plan is to simply declare yourself Superman so we can interview you, is that it?"
"How did you know?" Zod was greatly surprised.
Perry was speechless.
"But not Superman. Look, there are so many superheroes now. Why must we only interview Superman? Can't the Daily Planet have its own superhero?"
As he spoke, he proudly tried to puff out his chest, but only managed to stick out his round belly.
Perry's face darkened. "So you can fly?"
"No."
"Super strength?"
"Don't have it."
"Are you fast?"
Zod's eyes widened. "How can a man say he's fast?"
"Then what the hell are you talking about?"
"But I've studied boxing for a few years!" Zod said hurriedly. "Add some professional armor, and fighting criminals won't be a problem..."
"By 'professional armor,' you don't mean hockey gear, do you?" Perry said with a grim face.
"Huh? You can read minds? How did you know again?" Zod asked, amazed.
"Because last month in Gotham, some idiot painted hockey gear black to pretend he was Batman. He was sent to the hospital and nearly became a vegetable," Perry said coldly.
In this day and age, such incidents were not uncommon. Superheroes were popping up in every city and region, and many "good samaritans" tried to emulate them. But the results...
Let's just say they were mostly disastrous.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Perry rubbed the bridge of his nose, deciding to temporarily ignore the absurd reporter. "Come in."
Clark, having just flown back from Gotham, pushed the door open. "Perry? I heard you wanted to see me. I was just... what is this?"
Clark entered the room and saw the pot-bellied, middle-aged reporter Zod cosplaying as him, and for a moment, he too was at a loss.
"Zod, are you headed to a costume party?"
"What costume party?" Zod proudly put his hands on his hips, sticking out his belly again. "I'm about to make my debut!"
"Debut... in a band for the middle-aged and elderly?" Clark asked cautiously.
"How rude! I'm debuting as a superhero!" Zod huffed. "Don't get too cocky, Kent. I won't let you interview me when the time comes!"
"Alright."
Clark looked at his beer belly, then at his receding hairline, at a loss for words.
At that exact moment, a scream echoed from the hallway outside. A storm erupted, and a hurricane swept through the long, narrow corridor, blasting the office door open.
A squad of Parademons charged into the Daily Planet and burst into the editor-in-chief's office.
Without a word, the leader tossed a hand grenade inside before even fully entering.
Clark's pupils contracted. He instinctively tried to move forward and shield the ordinary people in the room with his body. However, the grenade's explosion unexpectedly contained green Kryptonite radiation. It slammed him backward, knocking him and everyone else in the room unconscious.
Several Parademons entered the room. Their gazes swept across the scene, cross-referencing with the portable terminal on the back of their hands.
An interface popped up on the terminal. On one side was a photo of Superman, with "Scanning for match" displayed next to it.
Then, the camera lock automatically fell on Clark, who had been blasted to the ground.
"DNA match successful. Target found."
The Parademons looked at each other, then at the glasses-wearing, suit-clad Clark, and then back at the picture of Superman on their terminal.
"Wibbly-wobbly?"
"Wibbly-wobbly. This guy has frames on his face, Superman doesn't."
"Wibbly-wobbly-wibbly-wobbly. The system must be broken."
Then, the Parademons' gazes collectively fell on Zod, standing nearby in his Superman uniform with his beer belly.
The Parademons' eyes all lit up.
"Wibbly-wobbly! That's him! He's identical!"
And so, the Parademons, overjoyed, ignored the continuous error messages from their portable computer, grabbed Zod, and flew away.
That was the scene Orin Vale witnessed upon his arrival. A squad of Parademons carrying a middle-aged reporter dressed as Superman, chatting and laughing as they flapped their wings and departed.
Orin Vale was speechless.
He knew Parademons were stupid, but this was just too ridiculous...
He was about to intercept them, but then a thought struck him. This was an opportunity.
Superman wasn't just some random person they grabbed off the street. This squad's mission was to capture Superman, so they probably wouldn't just return to some nearby stronghold. It was highly likely they would take him to a high-ranking official on Apokolips.
In that case, why not let them lead the way?
With this in mind, Orin Vale flew forward, his body deconstructed into a photon state, and shot straight into the unconscious reporter Zod's body.
This move... this move was the Trojan Horse.
(end of chapter)
