Chapter 71

On the velvet bed, sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the luxurious dark-gold curtains adorned with lace, which had already been pulled back. The room was opulent, designed for the enjoyment of the wealthy, but it now stood as a silent testament to the actions of one man.

Bardi slowly opened his eyes, his body half-bathed in sunlight. His skin absorbed the energy, stirring his cells awake. It felt like mint touched by morning dew—cool, refreshing, and invigorating. The sensation triggered his nerve centers, jolting him fully awake.

Rising from the goose-down bed, he pulled his arm free from beneath the neck of the woman lying beside him. He moved to the floor-to-ceiling window, completely bare, and pushed it open. A rush of fresh air mixed with dew-laden mist washed over his skin, cool and soothing. It carried the crispness of a summer morning, refreshing his entire body.

This house was the best in the suicide slum, situated near the former underground exchange. It was a relic of the rich and noble, who, even when passing through such desolate areas, demanded luxurious comfort. But now, it belonged to Bardi.

He turned back to glance at the bed.

The woman lying there was no longer alive. Her body, marked with bruises, bore the evidence of his touch.

Bardi's touch, gentle to him, was unbearable to ordinary humans. Yet, he didn't have a penchant for torture or abuse.

Last night had been a celebration with all 675 members of Barmulodi to mark their complete unification of the suicide slum. The woman had been a female assassin, attempting to kill him during the festivities, targeting him in his most relaxed state. He had slapped her unconscious with a single motion, the thirteenth assassination attempt since he took control of the ghetto.

The only difference this time was that it had been a female killer, unlike the previous twelve.

Bardi had used her to test his control over his abilities.

A few days ago, he had triggered his heat vision for the first time. Since then, he had been experimenting with the energy stored within his cells, striving for greater precision and efficiency in its use.

Though he had gained some control, he still wasn't satisfied.

"Clark could have children in the comics," Bardi murmured to himself, frowning as he stared at the corpse on the bed. "That means he could control himself down to the smallest detail. This level of precision… terrifying."

Clark's ability to wield his power without harm—to lift a cup, drink coffee, or touch someone without breaking them, was a mastery Bardi hadn't yet achieved. Such control over one's body was deeply unnerving to Bardi.

Was this level of control a result of natural growth and potential?

Or was it a product of something else? Kryptonite to weaken his power, perhaps? Or the genetic codex, designed to help Kryptonians master their bodies?

"Or was he simply born with that level of control?"

Bardi sighed, his frown deepening.

Last night, he hadn't engaged in any intimate acts. Had he done so, he would have killed the woman outright.

The assassin had died for a different reason. She had been well-prepared, her lower body was equipped with poison needles intended to incapacitate him. However, her plan had backfired. Bardi's steel-like body had shattered the needles upon contact, driving them into her instead.

The poison coursed through her body rapidly, and although she bit down on an antidote capsule hidden between her teeth, the antidote was ineffective against the deep penetration of the needles.

She struggled violently, but Bardi paid her no mind. He simply went to sleep. She didn't last long, dying soon after.

The cause of death? The poison needles embedded too deeply in her body.

Bardi shook his head, dismissing the thought. Turning back to the open window, his gaze fixed on the distant skyline of the metropolis. His enhanced vision allowed him to see far beyond the slums, into the heart of the central city.

High-rise buildings stretched upward, their glass surfaces gleaming under the morning sun. The city was alive with activity, people bustling through the streets, vehicles flowing endlessly, a vibrant scene of life and prosperity.

Slowly, Bardi retracted his vision, bringing his perspective back to the room. It felt as if he were pulling back on a train, returning to the view of an ordinary man.

He lifted his head, letting the sunlight warm his face. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"The real conquest begins now," he said softly.

At the same time, he had already deployed people to Nevada, monitoring the Kents and their farm.

A service bell rang. Bardi had called for the body to be removed.

Moments later, a beautiful woman entered the room. She carried his breakfast, her movements graceful, her expression resentful. Her eyes were filled with unspoken words, her displeasure evident.

Her expression practically screamed: Why won't you touch me?

She was the boss of the Rose Blood gang, a powerful woman who had survived the chaos of the suicide slum. Known for protecting the prostitutes under her, she was ruthless, cunning, and highly perceptive.

Bardi ignored her pointed gaze as he calmly dressed himself, her resentment palpable as she watched his every movement. Once dressed, he sat at the table and began eating his breakfast.

Her tone was laced with charm as she spoke, curling a strand of hair around her finger.

"Do you really plan to leave for the central city of the metropolis without me?" she asked, her voice dripping with seduction. "You're full of desires, I can satisfy all of them. No matter the position… no matter the posture."

For a man who could provide protection to her sisters, there was no rejection in her heart, only a desire to be closer.

"Not yet. You'd be shot to death."

Bardi's tone was calm as he took a bite of bacon, his demeanor as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

The glamorous woman crossed her arms beneath her chest, emphasizing her ample figure, and retorted angrily, "I've never heard of anything like that. What kind of excuse is 'shot to death'? I understand if you think I'm dirty."

Her tone carried a trace of bitterness, and her mature face darkened slightly.

Bardi didn't respond immediately. He paused, the knife and fork in his hands stalling mid-movement.

He sighed inwardly and, for a fleeting moment, thought of Jenny.

She should… still be alive.

The room fell into a brief silence.

After a few moments, Bardi's lips curved into a small smile, breaking the quiet. "You don't want your sisters to live their whole lives as prostitutes, do you? When I go to the Metropolis, I'll be setting up several companies, and I need you to be an excellent publicist."

His words were practical, but the smile he added at the end seemed to lighten the atmosphere.

Finally, he tacked on another line, one that made the mature woman's face light up with a pleased, knowing expression.

"I do like a uniformed temptation."

The woman let out a small snort, her sultry voice filled with bemusement. "Men will always be men."

Her figure, full and alluring, was as tempting as a ripe peach, exuding a charm that was difficult to ignore.

Bardi smiled faintly, recognizing her ambition and capability. He knew this woman would excel in the role he planned for her.

Since his unification of the suicide slum, he had smiled more often. Whether it was while bursting someone's head with a casual grin, standing in the sunlight, or looking down at his subordinates worshipping him as if he were a god, his smiles always carried a peculiar edge.

After finishing his breakfast, the woman spoke again, her tone a touch more serious. "Lionel Luthor's son wants to see you."

Bardi raised an eyebrow. He had never actively sought out Lex Luthor, nor had he given him any reason to reach out. He hadn't even considered taking action to bring the man into his fold. For now, Lex Luthor's influence and potential held little importance to Bardi.

In terms of intellect, Bardi's awakened Kryptonian mind far surpassed anything Lex could offer. His ability to calculate, strategize, and understand complex systems left even a genius like Lex trailing several steps behind. Whether in science or combat, Bardi had access to an endless wealth of Kryptonian technology to learn and utilize.

Someday, when he perfected his genetic structure, eliminating its flaws, he would become even more powerful. Lex Luthor was simply no threat to him.

Picking up a cup of hot cocoa, Bardi took a slow sip. The bitter-sweet aroma of the chocolate flowed down his throat, and he let himself savor the flavor. The sensation lingered on his tongue, and he closed his eyes momentarily in quiet enjoyment.

"Call him in."

***

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