Clark recently canceled all extracurricular activities, not only asking for leave from his cousin but also getting rid of the miserable life of being a human sandbag.
He also suspended his training with the football team. Apart from punching in at tropolis on ti at night, he basically studied fencing skills at Lex's villa during the day or went to the pasture to learn how to ride a horse.
Even Jonathan was surprised. 'When did Clark fall in love with riding?'
Unbeknownst to him, his son was just trying to excel in the competition and succeed in winning the heart of his crush.
If it were the old Clark, he wouldn't have been so proactive.
It's the cowering and self-doubting that Superman in his adolescence did most often.
However, Clark's ntality changed after being trained by his cousin.
"As long as the hoe is properly wielded, there's no corner that can't be dug ... Famous flowers have owners, but I can help loosen the soil ..."
Muttering the classic motto he learned from his cousin, Clark leaned forward and lowered himself onto the horse's back, harnessing the horse that was spreading its hooves and galloping.
"Clark, you may really have a talent for this ..."
Lex slowly followed, trying to restrain the surprised expression on his face.
For the first ti, he discovered that this guy, who was called a 'nerd' in school, had a learning ability far beyond that of ordinary people.
Ordinary people would need at least three days to properly learn the best riding position for them.
But in Clark's case, he could already gallop and do so difficult moves.
"Does a level like this qualify to compete in the equestrian competition?"
Clark went for two laps and tugged on the reins.
He slowly straightened his back and reduced his speed.
"If you sign up for ordinary competitions and obstacle courses, that shouldn't be a problem."
Lex thoughtfully said so, holding the reins in one hand and touching his chin in the other.
Generally speaking, there were many events in equestrian competitions.
Examples include dressage, endurance, barrel racing, and so on.
The main purpose was to test the rider's ability, as well as create a show with entertaining effects.
For those programs that were technically demanding, there was no need for Clark to waste ti on them.
However, categories like speed events and obstacle courses, which had a relatively low level of difficulty and were suitable for novices, could be entered.
If he could co out on top, he could win the favour of his crush.
No young girl would turn down a big star perforr.
That's one of the reasons why cheerleaders and quarterbacks were so popular at school.
"You still need a good horse."
Lex added.
He couldn't just find so random horse and ride it around the track.
In regular racing, there were strict requirents for weight, gender and age of the horses.
A race in a small town, maybe a little less elaborate. But it should at least be a competent racing horse, not a random wild one caught on a rope.
"This could be a big problem ..."
Clark scratched his head. He didn't even have a decent riding outfit, not to ntion a top-quality racehorse.
"The one I have at ho... Well, they all live in a stable in tropolis. It's hard to transfer them right now."
Lex was in a bit of a pickle. His father wouldn't allow his beloved possessions to be shipped off to a small town for a no-na horse competition.
In the other party's words, 'it would be a disgrace to the Luthor family.'
Horse racing was an ancient sport that could be traced back to ancient Greece.
Then it was carried forward by Britain and beca a fashionable activity for the aristocratic circle.
In recent years, horse breeding and racing beca popular with the upper classes of tropolis and turned into an erging ans of showing off their wealth.
A fine thoroughbred horse would cost more than a modern sports car.
It required the employnt of specialised workers and breeders, as well as the acquisition of grounds, and so on.
The rich were fond of creating gated leisure activities in the hopes of separating themselves from the poor.
Yachts, sports cars, private jets ... were all similarly exclusive items of status.
"Maybe Uncle Luke would have an idea. I rember a thoroughbred of his that won the World Show Jumping Championships? It was called ... Lightning Barry?"
Lex took off his helt, rolled back to dismount, and suddenly rembered.
He didn't have many friends, so he attached great importance to Clark.
"I'll go and ask later."
If it were anyone else, Clark would probably have left it at that and not bothered Lex anymore.
But if it's his cousin, it's worth a try.
They were all relatives, so it shouldn't be a problem to borrow a horse.
"Lightning Barry? Sure."
Luke, who was staying in the mansion to study kryptonite, saw his young cousin's visit and silently closed the lead box. He readily agreed.
He was about to return to the Marvel Universe, and the industry here would eventually be handed over to Clark and Lex, which was a kind of trusteeship.
After all, who else could be trusted more than his younger cousin and godson?
What's a re thoroughbred?
"By the way, there have been so mutants in town recently. Clark, don't forget your mission as a trainee Superman."
Luke kindly reminded.
His younger cousin had been so busy 'digging the soil' lately that he had neglected the situation around him.
So of the town's residents who had been exposed to kryptonite for a long period of ti were exposed to its radiation.
Their bodies mutated, and they developed a variety of strange abilities.
Luke had secretly marked several dangerous elents. He was ready to throw them to his young cousin, to practice, fight, and gain experience.
Clark nodded vigorously, patting his chest with assurance.
But his older cousin could clearly see that he was a little distracted.
He was like a student who was dragged to class after school. His body was sitting in the classroom, but his mind had wandered elsewhere.
Luke could understand that, too. He was a teenager of 17 or 18 years old before.
What else could there be in his head but his crush?
With his overwhelming male hormones, it was easy for Clark to lose his cool and feel overwheld.
He couldn't help it. 'My little cousin is a virgin who had just given up his first kiss, and his virginity is still intact.'
'By the way, his first kiss was with Lex Luthor.'
'Maybe that's why the other party was so enthusiastic about helping Clark?'
"A friendly reminder. If you win the competition and get the chance to talk to Lana in-depth later on, do rember to ask her to take off that necklace."
Luke seed to rember sothing and made a point of telling him.
If his younger cousin was ready to 'mount a horse' with his 'gun', but ended up feeling weak, he was afraid that his younger cousin would end up with serious trauma in his young mind.
According to incomplete statistics, among the male population, a terrible first experience had a high probability of causing subsequent marital discord.
"Necklace...?"
Clark looked puzzled but didn't think much of it.
His trust in his older cousin was growing day by day. 'We're both Saiyans. Luke wouldn't hurt !'
...
...
The equestrian competition was on schedule, and the scene could be described as a carnival. People were cheering, snacks everywhere, kids running around.
This was the town's big annual event, where everyone from the council mbers down to the ordinary folk gathered for what amounts to a great fun event for all.
There were four major events in the competition: dressage, barrel racing, jumping and racing.
The winner would receive the 'Golden Pumpkin Award' from the town's administrative committee and a cash prize of 1,000 dollars.
For a small-town competition, that was a lot of money.
"Clark, go for it!"
Before the competition started, Jonathan ca along with Martha and loudly cheered their son on.
"The title and the cash don't matter. What matters is you get sothing out of the experience."
As usual, Jonathan was always full of positive energy.
'Sothing out of the experience?'
Clark looked over to Lana, who wasn't too far away, looking valiant in her riding outfit.
He felt as if sothing had struck his teenage heart.
The lively atmosphere quickly spread, and the whole arena was filled with cheers and shouts of encouragent.
A dressage stallion was seen, led by a rider.
Like a professional dancer, it twisted and turned with a rhythmic step.
With the fast-paced drum beat and rousing music, the atmosphere was instantly heightened.
By the ti a few minutes had passed, and the opening act had finished, it was finally ti for the race.
A slightly nervous Clark looked up at his older cousin, who was sitting at the stands and took a deep breath.
The latter seed to sense his young cousin's gaze and the corners of his mouth lifted in a distinct curve.
"You can do it!"
Riding the thoroughbred called Lightning Barry, Clark felt like a dieval knight in shining armour.
He was ready to rush into battle, win glory and dals, and then gain the admiration of the Princess.
With such a wonderful fantasy, he pulled the reins and clamped his legs around the horse's belly.
As soon as the official signal was released, the Koenigsegg thoroughbred was ready to shine as the star of the race, leaving all his rivals in the dust.
Bang!
Clark shook the reins, and Lightning Barry broke through the two open doors like an arrow that left the string, suddenly jumping out.
On the start alone, it was a big step away from its rivals.
But there was no applause or cheers.
Clark, imrsed in the atmosphere of the race, felt that sothing was wrong.
Suddenly, he yanked the reins and quickly tried to stop.
Because, in front of him, a man was standing there, wearing a 'President Jefferson' mask.
He was the one that fired the shot.
"Hello again, kid!"
The other man was wearing the overalls of a race track worker and pulled out an assault rifle from sowhere.
After shooting a sweeping burst into the sky, he fired another burst at Lightning Barry.
A thoroughbred, worthy of a global limited edition Koenigsegg na, was violently shot at and collapsed, covered in bloody holes, and wailing in pain.
Out of inertia, Clark fell forward, rolled several tis and crashed into the fence next to the track.
Screams and shouts poured into Clark's ears like waves from the sea.
He barely opened his eyes to see the gun-wielding criminal closing in on Lana, who was riding on a red stallion.
'... Danger!'
Terrible thoughts occupied Clark's mind. He seed to have been given a shot of adrenalin and was instantly full of strength.
Boom!
There was a loud explosion in the atmosphere as if a bomb had been detonated, sending up a cloud of smoke and dust.
Like lightning, Clark lunged at the man in the 'President Jefferson' mask and swung his fist.
Bang!
It was like iron colliding with iron, clashing with a resounding sound.
Clark's eyes widened with an incredulous look of shock.
"Sorry kid, I'm not the sa as I used to be!"
A sinister voice ca from beneath the mask as the man who had robbed the bank but was scared off by Clark took the punch head-on.
Casually dropping the assault rifle that served as a cover, he flung his head viciously and slamd it forward!
Bang!
There was another dull explosion.
Clark staggered back a couple of steps, his eyes flashing with a golden light.
His brain was buzzing as if he had hit a brick wall.
"What's going on?"
Clark was barely able to gain his footing when he saw 'President Jefferson' rushing up.
The skin of the opponent's entire body took on a tallic tinge.
As if cast from steel, it was infused with a powerful sense of strength.
"Where did he co from?"
Luke, sitting in the stands, had his mouth curled up with a slight look of amusent.
He wanted to see what his young cousin, who he had trained, would do against an enemy of equal strength.
However, Clark's situation didn't look optimistic.
His younger cousin had learned to control his strength, but he really lacked talent in fighting.
'President Jefferson' with his steel-like body pinned Clark down, delivering a storm of blows.
'Swing and dodge ... His speed and reflexes are no match for Luke.'
Thanks to his lengthy experience as a human sandbag, Clark quickly settled into a rhythm and began to look for opportunities.
Crossing his arms, he braced himself for "President Jefferson's" fist.
And then, bending his elbow, he smashed into his opponent's head as the guy leaned in.
Boom!
Like a heavy hamr, it blasted 'President Jefferson' and knocked him back.
Clark continued to assu a defensive stance. He couldn't attack but knew how to counter.
"Co on!"
The young cousin made the provocative gesture he had learned from Luke, raising his finger and hooking it a few tis.
The faint-headed 'President Jefferson' seed to be taunted, sprinting over like an angry bull.
The steel palms that could crush steel and shatter rock snapped together and tightened around Clark.
The sudden force was enough to crush other people's bones and break their internal organs.
But Clark just found it hard to breathe. He didn't panic and followed his example.
Head back, and forward thrust!
Bang!
'President Jefferson', who had been hit once with an elbow, took another blow to the head and staggered backwards, blood pouring from his ears and nose.
".... Try to cut him through the middle."
Clark seed to hear his cousin's voice. He subconsciously stepped forward and clenched both his fists.
It quickly hit 'President Jefferson' on the chest.
Each punch was thrown with all its might, like a rounded sledgehamr.
Bang, bang, bang ---
A continuous muffled sound echoed across the racecourse.
Even though "President Jefferson" had a steel body, faced with Clark's lightning-fast fist, he couldn't withstand it and vomited a mouthful of blood, then fell to the ground and fainted.
...
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