SUP Chapter 8: Little Brother! Show Some Restraint!

Late at night on the second-floor hallway, the faint sound of water flowed through the pipes.

Jordan Kent, with his messy curly hair, carefully dried his freshly cleaned “treasured artifact,” a teenage necessity he used nightly.

After meticulously applying powder and storing it in its case, Jordan tiptoed out of the bathroom, wary of waking the family.

But as he cracked the door open, he nearly jumped out of his skin, almost awakening his Superman bloodline.

“Holy—!”

Jordan let out a startled yelp.

A gaunt figure stood silently outside, hunched, face pale, eyes sunken, looking drained as if a succubus had sapped his life force.

If Jordan hadn’t quickly recognized his brother, he might’ve smashed his “treasured artifact” into the figure’s face.

“Ian?” Jordan swallowed, still shaken.

Ian slowly raised his head, eyes unfocused.

“Yeah, just need the bathroom.” His voice was weak, as if he might collapse and restart life at any moment.

“You okay? Sick?”

Jordan’s expression was odd as he tucked his artifact into his pocket, sizing Ian up. He genuinely cared for his youngest brother.

“Fine, just... drained.”

Ian’s tone held a hint of frustration. They say you need to be ruthless, but he’d been too ruthless. [Healing Frenzy]’s energy cost was massive.

It healed wounds but depleted his body’s reserves. Starving and barely standing, how could he not look frail and gaunt?

“Uh…”

Jordan clearly misunderstood.

His face shifted through a spectrum of emotions, landing on an awkward “I get it, but I shouldn’t” expression.

The air grew heavy.

“Er... you... wash up?” Jordan forced a laugh, breaking the tension, stepping out to give Ian space.

“Okay.”

Ian shuffled into the bathroom, about to close the door when Jordan suddenly blocked it, hesitating.

“Uh, Ian.” He chose his words carefully, like a first-time life coach. “I know you might’ve unlocked some... new world.”

“But... as a man, you gotta show restraint. Don’t ruin your body now, or you’ll regret it later!” Jordan’s tone was earnest.

He never imagined saying this. But Ian’s state was alarming. What had his little brother been doing in his room to look so spent?

Obviously, Jordan was projecting.

A misunderstanding brewed between the brothers.

“…”

Ian opened his mouth to explain but didn’t know how. Resigned, he nodded with a forced smile and slowly closed the bathroom door.

Water soon splashed as Ian cleaned his “strengthening” knife. In Jordan’s mind, though, Ian was washing a “tool” for exercising certain muscles, just like his own.

“Such a precocious Ian.”

Even Jordan couldn’t help but sigh. Clutching his hidden artifact, he planned to return to his room for a few more games.

But at the staircase, he ran into Clark, who was just coming upstairs. Their eyes met, and the air turned awkward again.

“Good evening, Jordan.”

Clark, in a wrinkled suit, broke the silence first.

“Yeah.”

Jordan nodded stiffly, sidestepping toward his room. He was the family’s most distant child with Clark.

“Wait.” Clark stopped him.

“Ian’s in the bathroom?”

He glanced at the noisy bathroom.

Jordan paused, nodded, confirming. With his strained attitude, Clark had no time to mend things.

“Has he been off lately?” Clark was most concerned about Ian’s mental health. The image of Ian self-harming and laughing maniacally in his room haunted him.

Living too close to Gotham must’ve influenced Ian, Clark almost felt his son’s behavior mirrored Gotham’s crazies.

It clashed with Ian’s usual obedient, studious, good-kid image. Naturally, Clark considered Dr. Hannibal’s talk of mental illness.

Was Ian really slipping into schizophrenia? His expression grew graver as he sought answers from Jordan.

“Off? Ian?”

Jordan’s mind flashed to Ian’s “overindulged” face and his shocking “drained” comment. Hesitating, he chose to protect his brother’s “private shame.”

“What’s off about him? Great grades, teachers’ pet, girls tripping over him ten times a day, even delinquents begging for his exam cheat sheets. I bet even Jonathan wasn’t this popular in high school.”

Jordan’s tone had a hint of sourness. Jealousy? Maybe a bit, but mostly envy, given his own social anxiety left him friendless.

“Yeah, Ian’s the model student, perfect... but too perfect. That’s what worries me.” Clark suspected Ian’s pressure stemmed from this.

To rebellious Jordan, it sounded like his absent father nitpicking.

“Flaws, you lecture. No flaws, you’re still not happy... typical parent.” Jordan rolled his eyes, bypassing his “meddling” father to his room.

Bang!

Jordan slammed the door, venting his frustration.

Clark sighed helplessly, turning from Jordan’s door to the closed bathroom. Hesitating, his eyes narrowed.

The next moment, the superhero’s expression shifted to shock and uncertainty.

His pupils flickered.

As if witnessing something unbelievable.

[NEXT CHAPTER]