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Kingo stared at the disturbingly detailed medical report in his hands, then looked back up at Henry.
"If I hadn't watched you conduct the examination and write this myself," he said slowly, "I would suspect you had secretly dissected an Eternal to obtain this data."
"You're the first Eternal I've ever met," Henry replied. "Before meeting you, I wasn't even certain your kind existed. And I promised I'd share all my findings."
Strictly speaking, he wasn't lying.
He knew of the Eternals—but whether they truly existed in this universe had been uncertain until now.
"Half a day," Kingo muttered. "You did all this in half a day?"
"It was only an examination."
In truth, Henry's speed came from prior conceptual familiarity. He already knew several possible origin models for the Eternals—Celestial-made constructs, or genetically altered early humans from a million years ago.
His task had simply been to determine which framework fit Kingo—and fill in the observational blanks accordingly.
The decisive factor?
Their DNA.
It bore no resemblance whatsoever to human genetic structures.
An eight-strand, four-dimensional helical configuration—biologically impossible under conventional Earth chemistry.
Most of Henry's time had been spent analyzing that alien genomic architecture while drafting the handwritten report.
---
Kingo sighed, flipping through the pages.
"I rescheduled filming. Cleared three days for you. I never expected this much progress in hours."
He had planned to grant Henry three full days for preliminary study. If Henry failed to produce something acceptable within that window, the "test" would effectively end.
Instead, Henry exceeded expectations.
In fact, Kingo felt a faint unease.
If this young Kryptonian could uncover so much so quickly… what else might he discover?
---
Henry, however, seemed genuinely curious.
"You've lived in modern society for centuries. Have you never conducted systematic health examinations?"
Kingo shook his head.
"Ajak—our healer—can directly cure injuries. We tell her where it hurts, or she sees the wound.
"We do not suffer disease. Only combat injuries require treatment. And I should clarify—human weapons cannot harm us."
"Understood."
Henry then asked, "Why did your people come to Earth? I assume it wasn't exile like my supposed Kryptonian background."
Kingo smiled.
"We were sent to protect Earth's civilization. Though not in the way you imagine. Not as caretakers.
"A hostile alien species—the Deviants—arrived here. We were deployed to eliminate them.
"That mission concluded centuries ago. Since then, we await recall orders.
"We do not interfere in human affairs.
"So no—before you ask—we did not participate in world wars. They were not our wars. Though… some among us disagreed."
Henry nodded.
He understood detachment.
Whether as a Kryptonian or as a transmigrator, he too lacked complete emotional belonging to Earth.
He had people he cared about.
But becoming a self-sacrificing superhero devoted to "saving the world"?
That wasn't him.
Kingo noticed Henry did not probe further about global conflicts. That subtle indifference reassured him. If Henry felt no inherited duty to Earth, negotiations would be simpler.
---
Setting aside the report, Kingo asked, "Is there more you can do?"
"To proceed further, I'd require biological samples. And potentially invasive procedures. We agreed not to go that far."
"Have you figured out how to utilize cosmic energy?"
"Not yet. Understanding the mechanism isn't enough."
"I expected as much."
If Eternal abilities were so easily replicated, Kryptonians would be terrifying beyond reason.
After a moment, Kingo asked, "Would blood samples help?"
Henry blinked.
"Of course. But would you consent?"
Kingo considered.
"A new condition. If you help resolve my friend's condition—even providing a viable method or recommendation—I will give you fifty milliliters… no, one hundred milliliters of blood."
Henry smiled.
"Generous terms. I suppose I passed your test."
"You exceeded expectations, Kryptonian."
There was genuine satisfaction in Kingo's voice.
"Do you have time? We can visit my friend immediately."
"Where is she?"
"Australia."
Henry raised a brow.
"You're free? I assumed you were busier than I am."
Kingo grinned and winked.
"I have confidence in your efficiency."
Henry sighed.
"Very well. I have no urgent obligations. But what about our business agreement?"
Kingo thought for a moment.
"For contracts with American companies, it is best to comply with U.S. law. I'll dispatch someone from my side who holds a California legal license to negotiate detailed terms with Stark Pictures."
"Good. We'll draft a memorandum of understanding first—provide them a framework. By the time we return from Australia, the contract should be prepared. You'll come to Los Angeles to sign?"
Kingo chuckled.
"It's been a long time since I visited America. The last time I was in North America, it was during westward expansion. The locals weren't particularly welcoming to my complexion. I haven't returned since."
Henry gave a self-deprecating smile.
"Then I suppose I'm fortunate. This Kryptonian happens to look like a white man."
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