American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 89 Dior: The Iceberg Club? The Internet is truly amazing.

Three hours later, at the Smallwell Town Library.

The librarian pushed up his glasses and his suspicious eyes drifted towards the blond boy in the corner for the fifth time.

From this afternoon till now, this kid has finished reading "Introduction to Futures Trading", "History of the Evolution of U.S. Agricultural Subsidy Policy", and even "Diary of a Wall Street Trader".

He was even writing furiously in front of his notebook.

What on earth is he going to do?!

The librarian swallowed his saliva. Was he going to witness the birth of the Smallville Wolf?
"Good morning sir."

A cold voice suddenly sounded in front of him.

"what?!"

The administrator was so frightened that he almost spilled his coffee on the library card.

"Um! Please, what can I do for you?" He looked at the blond boy who had stood in front of the reading desk without him noticing. His sharp red eyes frightened him a little. "Do you... do you want to borrow a book?"

Dio's face was expressionless, and he tapped his fingertips on his notebook. "Are you still hiring a librarian here?"

"Uh..." The administrator was stunned, then shook his head, "Sorry, we don't accept part-time students, especially high school students."

"..."

Dio said nothing more, but simply closed the notebook with a snap, his movements quick and decisive.

He turned and walked out the door, his back straight but with a hint of imperceptible anxiety.

I have to find a way to make money and then throw it in that old guy's face and see if he can still put on that relaxed expression.
-
When Dio returned home and opened the door, the sunset had already sunk behind the barn.

He ran around all afternoon, asking everywhere he could think of in the town.

Grocery stores, fast food restaurants, auto repair shops...

Without exception, they all hit a wall.

The poor Smallville High School students had already scooped up the low-paying part-time jobs.

Dio walked straight through the living room, leaving several muddy prints on the floor with the soles of his boots.

Even in response to Locke's greeting, he just gave a perfunctory "hmm".

"What's wrong with this kid?"

The hand holding the coffee cup stopped in mid-air, and Locke's eyebrows were almost raised to his hairline.

He stared at the stairs suspiciously until Dio's footsteps, which were obviously a little breathless, disappeared at the end of the second-floor corridor.

Could it be because of what happened at noon?

Locke shook his head and decided to talk to him later.

In the bedroom upstairs, Dio locked the door behind him, isolating himself from the outside world.

He was staring at the big thing covered by the dust cover on the desk.

This is the IBM Aptiva my father gave me for my birthday two years ago. It is said to be the most advanced personal computer. It is equipped with the 98 system.

Let's treat a dead horse as a living horse doctor.

Although I don't like this kind of thing, but at this moment
Gotta try.

He lifted the dust cover and pressed the huge power button.

"Buzz—buzz buzz—"

The computer case made a humming sound like an old cow breathing, and the monitor struggled to light up a blue sky and white clouds.

Frowning at the Windows 98 startup screen, Dio's fingers hovered above the keyboard, and he suddenly realized that he didn't seem to be very proficient in typing.

Forget it, just follow the steps that the old guy taught me.

He fumbled with the keyboard, trying to recall Locke's instructions:

"First click this... the little arrow that looks like a mouse... then... the icon that looks like a globe..."

Finally, where is the F key?

The blinking cursor on the screen seemed to be mercilessly mocking his slowness.

It took Dio ten full minutes to finally type out the following words in the browser search bar, letter by letter:
—High-paying part-time jobs in Kansas. The moment the page redirected, a dense barrage of information flashed across the screen.

Dio's pupils dilated slightly.

How could the Internet be so magical?!
Smallville Gas Station Night Shift Cashier Earns $5.5 an Hour

[Hawksville Farm pickers earn $80 a day]

[Metropolitan Express sorting center weekly salary $400]

but
He slid the mouse quickly, his red eyes sweeping over the advertisements for cheap labor, but the feeling of irritation in his heart became stronger and stronger.

This meager income is not even enough to feed Clark.

hateful
He was practically grinding his teeth at the screen.

Even the magical internet can't help me?!
Dio sighed in disappointment and moved his finger to the mouse, ready to close the frustrating page.

But just as he was about to click close.

The colorful, flashing advertisement at the bottom caught his attention.
【The Iceberg Lounge】

(Iceberg Club is looking for three 'Kings'!)

(Base salary $3000/day + 6% commission! The hottest nightclub in the Midwest! Guaranteed to make you a ton of money!)
Dio's fingertips hovered over the mouse.

king?

He narrowed his eyes.

Even Clark, with his football and mashed potato-minded brain, knew this was definitely different from the silly 'king' from homecoming!
Is it bartender slang? Or...
As if possessed by a magic spell, he lightly tapped his index finger and clicked on the flashing dialog box.

Almost instantly, a chat box with [Black Gate Penguin C] popped up, and sent a cold question mark:?

After hesitating for two seconds, Dio typed stiffly: "Where?"

【Black Gate Penguin C】: Gotham.

Gotham?

Is this the legendary sin city where there are more criminals than police?
I remember Uncle Jonathan saying that my father was picked up by Old Bob from the suburbs of Gotham when he was begging on the side of Interstate 70.
Forget it, it's not only too far, but also dangerous... I'll think of another way...

Dio's finger moved to the off button.

"Ding~"

It seemed that seeing that Dio had not returned for a long time, [Black Gate Penguin C] continued to type: Are you scared?

? !
Afraid?!

Dio's sneer almost burst out of his nose, and his fingers tapped heavily on the keyboard: "Where?"

This time, even the spaces were omitted, with a strong sense of impatience.

[Black Gate Penguin C]: The most dazzling building near the coast of Gotham.

But before Dio could reply, the other party added another sentence, his words revealing contempt:

"By the way, if you're ugly, don't come. If you waste my time..."

The following threatening content was not displayed in time because.
"Squeak-"

My bedroom door was pushed open without any warning!
"Dio," Locke said in a gentle voice, as if he was about to have a long conversation. "Dad wants to talk to you about the farm..."

The words stopped abruptly.

The blue light of the screen reflected on Dio's suddenly stiff profile. He quickly closed the webpage, but it was too late.

A very strange smile suddenly appeared on my father's weather-beaten face, a mixture of surprise, understanding and a hint of mischief.

"Dio. Ahem." Locke cleared his throat, his tone becoming more meaningful. He even very considerately and slowly closed the door again. "Dad will talk to you later."

"."

What does Lao Deng think I'm doing?!

Dio stared at the closed door, his face as dark as the bottom of a pot.

Damn it, he must throw the US dollars in Lao Deng's face and humiliate him severely by looking at his astonished face!
(End of this chapter)