Chapter 63
Eric and Charles glared at the back of Clark's head, silently airing their morning grievances.
Clark's forehead throbbed in irritation as he turned to look at the two of them.
The moment Clark turned, they immediately shifted their gaze to the window.
When Clark turned back, their eyes were back on him.
For Clark, who had super senses, this persistent staring felt like an annoying fly buzzing in front of his face.
Watching the antics of his sons, Mike couldn't help but chuckle.
A minute passed.
"I say, that's enough!"
Clark glared at them, his voice filled with annoyance. "All I did was wake you up!"
"Yeah? And all we're doing is looking at you," Charles quipped, a smirk tugging at his lips. Eric nodded vigorously in agreement.
Needless to say, this was Charles' idea. Only he could come up with something so deliberately irritating.
Clark shot Mike a desperate look for help.
Mike tilted his head nonchalantly. "Don't look at me. Handle it yourself. Or, you know, you could just beat them up."
"Wow, Dad, are you so biased?" Charles exclaimed, while Eric nodded fervently.
Clark raised an eyebrow and turned to face his brothers, scanning them up and down with a slow, calculating stare. A dangerous smile crept across his lips.
Charles and Eric flinched.
They had to admit, Clark could be pretty scary when he wanted to be.
Then, just as quickly, Clark's expression softened, the icy tension melting away like snow under the spring sun.
But by then, Charles and Eric were on their best behavior.
"Thanks, Dad!" Clark said with a triumphant grin.
"Heh."
"Dad, you're so unfair!" Charles huffed, turning to Mike. "You're always siding with Clark. You make Eric and me feel like we were picked up off the street!"
Mike blinked, pretending to think. "Weren't you?"
The boys already knew the truth of their origins, so this topic was no longer a sensitive one.
Eric sighed and muttered, "Don't start, Charles. You know how this ends."
"Ugh!" Charles groaned. "Clark was picked up too!"
"Yeah, but picking up Clark came with a bonus—you two on the other hand…."
Hearing this, Charles and Eric were left speechless.
"I warned you," Eric muttered, looking at Charles with exasperation.
Charles buried his face in his hands and let out a dramatic sob.
Suddenly, both brothers turned to each other with narrowed eyes and declared in unison "You're the real stray!"
Laughter erupted from Mike and Clark, filling the car with a lighthearted energy.
The group arrived at their destination.
It was a wealthy neighborhood, its beautiful villas spaced far apart to ensure privacy. The scenery was picturesque, with immaculate landscaping and a serene atmosphere.
"This the place?"
Clark and the others stopped at the gate of one particular villa, checking the address. After confirming it, they nodded to Mike.
Mike tossed the keys to Clark, who unlocked the gate. The car rolled smoothly into the property.
Getting in hadn't been easy. If it weren't for Charles' abilities, the overly suspicious security guard might have turned them away.
The yard was spacious, complete with a garden, a garage, and even a swimming pool.
But it was also a mess.
Weeds had taken over the garden, and a thick layer of dust coated everything.
Mike glanced at the three boys, a mischievous smile forming on his lips.
The boys instantly frowned.
They had assumed they could just move in, but now… they had to clean?
"Well, get to it," Mike said cheerfully. "I'll go grab some groceries. What do you guys want for dinner?"
"Chicken!" the three shouted in unison.
"Got it!"
Mike turned on his heel and left without a second glance.
The boys stood frozen for a moment, their faces darkening.
"So, Dad's just ditching us to do all the work?"
"Pretty much."
"Ugh!"
Clark sighed. "Let's get started."
The trio found cleaning supplies and reluctantly began their tasks.
Charles mopped the floor diligently, grumbling to himself.
"Whoosh!"
Clark zipped around the room in a blur, his super speed making the cleaning process ridiculously fast and efficient.
Charles stared in envy. "Must be nice," he muttered.
He turned to Eric and froze.
Eric sat casually in a chair, his hand extended. Several pieces of metal floated around him, controlling various cleaning tools. The mop danced across the floor, guided by his powers, as if an invisible crew was hard at work.
Charles' lips twitched. His jealousy was palpable.
"Rubbish ability," he muttered, glaring at his own hands. "Can't even help sweep the floor!"
While the brothers worked, a red sports car sped past the villa.
The driver, a young man with windblown hair and a grin, slammed on the brakes.
Screech!
The car reversed abruptly.
The man stepped out, adjusted his sunglasses, and looked at the open gate.
"Hank's back?" he muttered, striding confidently into the yard.
The villa looked just as he remembered—old-fashioned and slightly worn. He approached the front door, hesitating for a moment before pressing the doorbell.
When the door opened, Charles stood there, looking unimpressed.
"Who are you?" Charles asked flatly.
The young man grinned, revealing a set of perfect teeth. "My name's Tony Stark."
Charles raised an eyebrow. "Uhmm, are you a delivery man? Because we didn't order anything." Tony's jaw dropped.
"What did you just call me?"
"Delivery man, guy? Whatever you prefer."
Charles moved to shut the door, but Tony slammed his hand against it, his face a mix of disbelief and annoyance.
"Do I look like a delivery guy to you?"
"Kind of," Charles said, shrugging. "Anyway, what do you want?"
Tony took a deep breath calming himself, and said with calm "I'm Tony Stark. A Genius, billionaire and a philanthropist. You've probably heard of me."
Charles stared at him for a long moment before deadpanning, "Never heard of you."
And with that, he slammed the door shut.
Tony stood there, stunned.
He rang the doorbell again.
This time, Eric answered.
Eric took one look at Tony and said, "Man, we don't have any leftovers for you. Try somewhere else."
Bang!
The door slammed shut once more.
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Vote with power stones.