"[Stuck on the draft, brother Daniel Wu Yifei...]"
Tel-Rol was a bit confused.
He flew with Kara towards home, his mind full of questions.
"Fight at home?"
"Wouldn't it be better to fight in the Arctic? It's a big, open space, you can smash whatever you want."
"Fight at home? My tiny apartment, I'm afraid I'd punch through a wall just by stretching."
He looked at Kara leading the way, her flying posture was relaxed, her golden hair flowing behind her.
The sun shone on her, making her feel warm all over.
"A woman's heart is like a needle at the bottom of the sea..."
Tel-Rol mumbled, scratching his head as he followed her.
He figured maybe Kara had just recovered and didn't want to be out in the cold wind.
Alright then.
They'd make do, just exchange a few blows at home, stopping before things got serious.
Soon, the two landed on the balcony of Kara's apartment.
As soon as they entered, Kara pointed to the bathroom.
"Go, wash yourself clean."
"Huh?"
Tel-Rol was even more bewildered, "Take a shower before a fight? Won't it be a waste if I sweat it all off later?"
Kara crossed her arms over her chest, scrutinizing him up and down, a hint of disdain in her eyes.
"Look at you, all scruffy with a beard, and dirt on you."
"There's a tough battle ahead, you need to be in your best condition."
She said, pushing Tel-Rol into the bathroom.
"Hurry up, don't dawdle."
"Alright, alright, you're the boss."
Tel-Rol was pushed into the bathroom, grumbling as he took off his clothes.
"So many demands..."
Hot water gushed from the shower, washing away the fatigue he had accumulated over the past few days.
He closed his eyes, his mind still calculating the upcoming "battle."
Should he go easy on her?
After all, she had just returned from the brink of death.
But if he didn't give his all, she would definitely be unhappy.
What a hassle.
About ten minutes later, Tel-Rol walked out of the bathroom, wiping his hair, with only a towel wrapped around his lower body.
"I'm clean, where do we fight...?"
His words caught in his throat halfway through.
No one was in the living room.
The bedroom door was ajar, and warm yellow light seeped through the gap.
He walked over and pushed the door open.
Then, he froze in place.
Kara was lying on the bed.
She was on her side, propping her head with one hand, her golden hair fanned out on the pillow.
She wore a silk nightgown, very thin and very short.
The fabric clung tightly to her body, clearly showcasing every curve.
Her long legs were crossed, her skin glowing white in the light.
She didn't speak, just looked at him, her blue eyes shimmering, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
"..."
Tel-Rol's mind crashed.
As a purebred bachelor who had lived for so many years, never lost a fight, and never been in love, the battle alarms in his head screamed wildly.
But the content of these alarms was completely different from what he had expected.
He felt his cheeks flush.
"What... what are you doing?"
His voice was a bit dry, and his throat was also dry.
Kara laughed, her voice soft and light.
"Didn't you say you wanted to fight?"
She sat up, the shoulder strap of her nightgown slipping down, revealing her rounded shoulder.
"Come on."
"Let me show you my true power."
Tel-Rol's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.
He finally understood.
So "fight"... meant this?
Are young people nowadays really this wild?
For the next three days.
The residents of this apartment building endured a miserable time.
Day one.
Mr. Hank, a retired truck driver living downstairs, was wearing a tank top, drinking beer, and watching a game. Suddenly, he felt the ceiling and floor begin to vibrate rhythmically.
"What the devil... another earthquake?"
Mr. Hank placed his beer can on the floor, watching the liquid inside shake violently with the "thump... thump... thump..." rhythm.
He picked up the phone and dialed the apartment manager.
"Hey, is that Raj? Listen, are those young people upstairs doing some kind of interior renovation? They're going to shake my ceiling down!"
Raj, the manager on the other end, was also helpless: "Mr. Hank, I've checked, 17B hasn't applied for any construction permits. You know, I can't break in without a permit."
Day two.
The apartment residents' email group and neighborhood complaints completely exploded.
"Can someone explain what on earth 17B is doing? I feel like I'm living in a washing machine! I barely slept last night!"
"Crab! My Funko Pop figures were shaken off the shelf, and one broke a corner! That was a limited edition!"
"Are they practicing some Irish tap dance? Or do they keep an elephant at home? This is too ridiculous! Has anyone called the police?"
"I did, the police came, knocked on the door for a long time, no one answered, and they said they couldn't do anything without a search warrant!"
Manager Raj sent a group email, his tone full of exhaustion and official jargon: "We are actively communicating with the tenants of 17B, please be patient."
Day three.
The angry residents spontaneously gathered at Kara's doorstep, preparing for a collective protest.
However, their knocking and doorbell ringing went unanswered.
There was no response from inside the door, only the continuous, rhythmic vibration, as if silently provoking those outside the door.
Everyone looked at each other, and finally, all eyes turned to Mr. Hank, who was leading them.
Old Hank sighed and waved his hand.
"Forget it, folks, just disperse," he said in a low voice, with the tone of a seasoned veteran, "Young people... they have boundless energy. We can't mess with them, but at least we can avoid them. I'm going to stay at my daughter's house for a few days, until their battle is over."
So, for the next half a day, the residents of the building packed up their families and temporarily evacuated, seeking refuge at relatives' and friends' homes.
Three days and three nights.
When the last burst erupted in the room, everything finally returned to peace.
Tel-Rol lay on his back on the broken mattress, feeling his body and soul utterly drained.
He turned his head, looking at Kara beside him, who was equally exhausted and didn't want to move a single finger.
Her cheeks were flushed, the wisps of hair on her forehead were damp with sweat, and her eyes were bright, like sapphire tempered by fire.
"You..."
Tel-Rol opened his mouth, a thousand words converging into one sentence.
"I lost."
Kara let out a giggle, she rolled over and lazily pressed herself against Tel-Rol.
"Now you know my power, don't you?"
Tel-Rol felt the soft yet heavy weight on him, surrendering with a wry smile.
"I know, I know."
"You are the eternal god."
This tough battle was more exhausting than fighting Steppenwolf.
But... he reached out and embraced Kara in his arms.
It felt... ineffable.
Another half month passed.
Smallville, Kansas.
An old Ford pickup truck stopped at the entrance of Kent Farm.
Tel-Rol and Kara got out of the car.
Kara wore a simple white T-shirt and jeans, her golden hair tied in a ponytail, looking like a sunny, energetic American sweetheart.
Tel-Rol was still in his Hawaiian style, his buttons firmly fastened at Kara's insistence, wearing sunglasses, looking refreshed and invigorated.
In front of the farm's wooden house, a woman in an apron was hanging out bedsheets.
She saw the two and a warm smile immediately appeared on her face.
"Kara! Tel!"
Martha Kent jogged over and gave them both a big hug.
"You're finally here, come in quickly, I just baked an apple pie."
"Aunt Martha."
Kara called out sweetly.
Tel-Rol also followed suit: "Good afternoon, Aunt Martha."
Martha held their hands, looking at them lovingly.
"How's your recovery?"
"Excellent, Aunt Martha, look."
Kara smiled and spun around, full of vitality.
Martha nodded, then turned her gaze to Tel-Rol, her eyes filled with teasing and understanding.
"Our Tel has also worked hard, you look... well, you have good color."
Tel-Rol's old face flushed, and he coughed unnaturally.
"Ahem, not bad."
Just then, a woman in a plaid shirt with a capable demeanor walked out of the house, holding a cup of coffee.
It was Lois Lane.
When she saw Kara and Tel-Rol standing side by side, especially the unspoken intimate aura between them, she first raised an eyebrow.
Then, she smiled.
"Oh, look who's here, our world-saving heroes."
Lois stepped forward and winked at Kara.
"It seems someone's serious illness has completely healed?"
Kara's face instantly turned bright red.
"Lois!"
Tel-Rol, standing by, rubbed his nose, pretending to be engrossed in studying the growth of the kent family's cornfield.
He swore he heard the word 'illness' in Lois's sentence, almost bolded, underlined, and with a flashing effect.
The minds of Earth women are so hard to understand.