The correct way to attack the villain

Westchester was still asleep at four o'clock in the morning.

Song Mo woke up from a coma, and the first thing he saw was a white ceiling.

The tip of his nose smelled like air freshener, and the wounds on his body had been treated briefly, accompanied by an indescribable itching, which was very uncomfortable, especially after excessive use of abilities, the warning of mental exhaustion that spread throughout his body made him very uncomfortable after waking up. It takes a long time for the line of sight to refocus.

He sat up slowly, opened the corner of the curtain at hand, and outside the window was the twilight morning light and the playground of Xavier College.

The glass reflected his current appearance, wearing a new hospital gown, with a bandage wrapped around his forehead, his face was terribly white, and his blue eyes were as lifeless as if covered by a layer of mist.

Extremely embarrassed, thinking of making himself the culprit, Song Mo couldn't help cursing in a low voice: "Crazy."

Putting down the curtains, the room was very dark. He touched the bedside lamp and pressed it. The sudden light made him unable to help but reach out and cover his eyes.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the little head sleeping beside his hand.

Peter Parker.

Song Mo was a little surprised that he was still here. It seemed that he was a little uncomfortable being shaken by the light. The little spider frowned in his sleep, and Song Mo had to turn off the light again.

As soon as he turned on the dim sleep light, there was a sound of the door not being pushed open.

"you're awake?"

Seeing the young man half-sitting on the hospital bed, Professor Hanke was a little surprised: "I thought you wouldn't wake up for at least a few days. You must know that you are seriously injured. The professor is very worried about you."

Song Mo pursed his lips, pressed his index finger on his lips, and then pointed to the side of the bed.

Only then did Professor Hanke realize that there was a sleeping little head next to him, and subconsciously lowered the volume: "What do you think?"

Song Mo smiled politely and distantly: "It's nothing, it's much better." After a pause, he added, "Thank you."

Hank pushed his glasses: "You shouldn't thank me. The professor carefully changed your clothes and treated the wound for you. If you want to thank you, you should thank him, and the kid next to you."

After speaking, he raised the recording board with one hand and began to record the physical data of his mutant student who was seriously injured and bloody a few hours ago before we got together.

"Recovering very well, remember to pay more attention to rest these few days, and try to let go of your mind. Thinking now is a burden on your brain. The professor will come to help you after the graduation ceremony of the college in the evening—"

The words stopped here abruptly, Hank paused, and changed the subject a little bluntly: "Is there any other discomfort for you? Do you want me to give you a painkiller? After all——"

The sound stopped abruptly again.

Song Mo smiled, and continued: "After all, no matter who cuts a hole in the head, it will hurt like hell?"

"Cough." Professor Hank coughed with one hand clenched, "So, if you need it. The analgesic is my new improvement. It will have no side effects and can effectively relieve most of the pain."

"no need."

Song Mo lowered his eyes, and his eyes just fell on Peter's raised hair. He couldn't help but stretched out his hand to flatten it gently, and then said casually, "He went to repair the equipment that I broke? How many imaginary cores are nailed into it? Three? Five?"

Seeing his calm look, Hank couldn't help but frowned, and was a little dazed again.

It seemed that the little boy who would hug his thigh and ask him many questions in a sticky voice was just something he imagined. The relationship between them should have been like it is now, rusty, indifferent, and barbed.

It started when Charles decided to implant an imaginary number core into his brain.

Professor Hank sighed: "Charles is for your own good, I hope you can understand."

"Yes, of course I understand that everything you do is for my own good."

Song Mo said, sticking out his tongue and licking the corner of his mouth.

Probably the smell of rust spreading in his mouth reminded him of the cause of his injury again, and that image flashed in his head without warning.

The black bat robe illuminated by the fire, and the figure who let go of the safety rope without hesitation.

He was really taken aback at the time, because he never thought that Batman would have no principles, or that he would have principles to this extent, but what is the point of his doing so?

He never asked Batman to help him. Although it was a bit unreasonable to say so, Song Mo really disliked his behavior at that time.

There are countless ways for him to make an emergency landing unscathed, and then he will leave Gotham with his father's portrait without hesitation. He doesn't care what Gotham will look like after that. It would be better if it was bombed, no Once he is on this stage, he can live a normal life, and he doesn't have to do those boring evil pranks here in order to comply with his adoptive father's behest.

But Batman saved him.

He saved him, so he had to think of a way, and finally dug out the imaginary core with his fingers into his brain, and restored his control over a few abilities, just to help him protect the city that had been completely invaded by darkness. Gotham City.

This is probably the most fundamental difference between him and his adoptive father.

As a clown, his adoptive father has completely abandoned everything about "Jack", Jack's cowardice, Jack's incompetence, Jack's indecision, together with Jack's morality, Jack's kindness and Jack's humanity.

But he can't.

The first condition for him to change his name to Eredar is that he has a name, his name is Song Mo, not just a string of simple letters, an empty joker.

So he can ignore the people of Gotham, because his impression of Gotham has always been extremely bad, starting from the three homeless men at the Gotham pier beating his sister to death for a bag of bread.

but.

Batman tries to save him.

He couldn't turn his head and walk away.

It just looks like a—

Moral kidnapping.

Just like what Charles told him back then, if his powers were not curbed, his lifespan would be affected, and he would become the mutant with the shortest lifespan in history.

But what does it matter?

He never asked Charles to help him, he never cared about it, they put those things in his brain on their own initiative, just because of the saying "we are for you".

This is definitely the most ridiculous place for superheroes.

"Not everyone is begging for your help. Please, from now on, leave me alone and stay away from me. That's what is really good to me. Only you have never understood this."

Song Mo lowered his head, and curled his lips with ease after speaking: "Sorry, you know I'm not talking about you."

It seemed that because the voice of the last sentence was a bit loud, which disturbed Mr. Parker's sleep time, she moved a little uneasily, and Song Mo had to shut his mouth, and curled up the hand that was lightly pressed on his head to comfort him. Sexually scratching the top of the back of his neck.