Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who worry about their fathers!

After learning that Peter was a single father, Martha enthusiastically helped him pick out baby products. She placed Azu in the stroller alongside her son, Clark.

Azu, being physically stronger, pushed Clark aside and started hammering him with the toy T-rex he was holding. Martha, busy explaining to Peter which formula was best for infants under one year old, didn't notice Azu bullying her son.

"When choosing formula, you have to consider the packaging, taste, nutrition, and cost-effectiveness," Martha said, placing two cans of powdered milk into Peter's shopping cart. "You can try both brands. That's what Clark has been using."

Peter wanted to mention that he preferred to raise Azu in a more hands-off, free-range style, without being too picky about things like formula. But, thinking it might come across as careless, he wisely chose to stay quiet.

After finally selecting their items, Peter and Martha lined up at the checkout counter. Peter held Azu in his arms, while Martha pushed the stroller, chatting with him, unaware that danger was approaching.

Two minutes later, a man entered the store from the back of the line. He wore dark Ray-Ban sunglasses and a V-neck T-shirt. The man scanned the crowd before pulling a Glock pistol from his clothes. Without hesitation, he aimed it into the air and pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

The gunshot rang out, and for a split second, everyone in the supermarket froze. Then chaos erupted. Screams filled the air as the crowd descended into panic, pushing, shoving, and running in every direction. The man with the sunglasses appeared to relish the fear he'd sparked. He aimed at the glass doors, shattering them with a loud bang.

Peter, startled by the gunfire, found himself swept up by the rushing crowd. He knew that looting was becoming common in U.S. supermarkets, but he hadn't expected to encounter it firsthand. As the chaos unfolded, Peter clutched Azu tightly and tried to make his way toward the exit.

But there was more than one gunman. A second shooter, blending into the panicked crowd, began firing indiscriminately. This wasn't a robbery—it was a massacre.

On the other side, Martha clutched Clark to her chest, fleeing in terror. She nearly stumbled over a body lying face down on the floor. The sight of the lifeless figure sent a wave of nausea through her, but she managed to suppress the urge to vomit, letting out a muffled whimper.

She wasn't the only one crying—sobs and screams echoed throughout the supermarket. Some people tried hiding in the aisles, while others made a run for the exit, only to be gunned down.

Suddenly, a thin man in sunglasses approached Martha's direction. His khaki pants were stained with what looked like a mix of food and oil. He raised his pistol, firing a shot that zipped just over Martha's head.

Before she could scream, a hand clamped over her mouth. Startled, she turned to see Peter standing behind her, holding Azu tightly in his arms.

"Shh!" Peter hushed Martha, holding a stainless steel barbecue fork in his hand. Martha knew exactly what it was for.

They were both crouched behind a shelf, with Clark and Azu sitting silently beside them. Martha was so tense that she barely dared to breathe.

The gunman approached, and just as Martha was about to exhale, he suddenly spun around and pointed his pistol directly at her. Martha froze, her heart stopping for a moment.

But before the gunman could pull the trigger, Peter, moving faster than she could track, was already at the man's side. With a swift, decisive motion, Peter drove the two-pronged barbecue fork deep into the gunman's neck.

The attacker, caught completely off guard, turned his shocked eyes toward Peter. The stainless steel prongs protruded from his neck like a grotesque lever. Blood spurted from the wound, soaking the man's neck and the collar of his T-shirt.

"Plop!" The gunman collapsed heavily to the ground.

Peter stood there, heart pounding in his chest. In his previous life, he had only ever seen violence on TV—he'd been a simple steelworker, not someone who would kill a person. Yet, with adrenaline surging through him, he had just taken a life to protect himself and the others.

Did he have a hidden talent for this kind of thing? He wondered, his mind racing with errant thoughts. Slowly, he reached out to pick up the fallen gun.

"Bang!" A shot rang out, and a bullet grazed Peter's side. Another gunman had spotted him and opened fire.

Peter immediately abandoned the gun and dove behind the shelves, narrowly avoiding further shots.

Martha, on the other side, stared in shock. She hadn't expected Peter to be so brave—and so deadly. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she bent down to pick up Azu, whom Peter had placed on the ground.

Meanwhile, the second gunman, enraged, began firing furiously at the shelves, trying to hit Peter.

Bullets shattered the items on the shelves.

"Come out, bastard!" the gunman shouted.

Martha, hit by falling debris from the shelves, tightly shielded the two babies with her body to protect them from the chaos.

"Peter!" she called out, "If I don't make it, can you get Clark out of here?" She was preparing for the worst.

"We're not there yet!" Peter frowned, suddenly noticing a faint red glow flickering in Azu's eyes as Martha held him. He remembered that Homelander had laser vision.

Thinking quickly, Peter took Azu from Martha. "Alright, Azu, think about something that makes you mad, use your powers, you can do it!"

Ignoring the bullets flying overhead, Peter urged, "Hurry and shoot your laser eyes!"

Azu tilted his head, babbled "Yiyaya," and offered Peter his toy Tyrannosaurus. But the red light in Azu's eyes didn't intensify.

Peter's heart sank. Azu had shown his powers earlier that morning, so why weren't they working now? Glancing at the Tyrannosaurus in his hand, Peter hesitated for a moment before ruthlessly twisting its head off.

Seeing his beloved toy broken, Azu's lips quivered. The red glow in his eyes intensified, dangerous energy building up. Laser beams were on the verge of being unleashed.

In Martha's stunned and shocked gaze, Peter bolted forward with Azu in his arms.

"Stop, I surrender!" Peter shouted.

Hearing this, the gunman paused. He saw Peter carrying a baby and sneered with disdain, assuming he had found a human shield.

"Scum, ready to come out and die?"

"No! I'm sending you to die!" Peter growled, pinching Azu's soft little butt. Azu immediately wailed, and at that moment—

"Zizi!"

Red lasers shot out of Azu's eyes in an instant, filled with immense power. As Peter adjusted Azu's head, the beams moved with precision.

"Hua-la!"

The laser cut the gunman's body clean in half. His upper torso collapsed onto a row of beach-themed shelves, shattering the objects as they fell.

The metallic scent of blood filled the air. Martha, in utter disbelief, tried to speak, but her mouth refused to cooperate with her thoughts.