It was now clear to Diwan that Carl wouldn't harm her, so calling the police seemed unnecessary. If someone truly wanted to hurt her, looking at how the man had just stood there without moving, there would have been no chance of escape. He was overwhelmingly strong—she wouldn't have been able to resist at all.
"My name is Carl Al," he said softly, his voice calm. "I don't know where my home is. I don't even know how I came here."
Seeing that Diwan had finally calmed down, Carl spoke slowly, carefully.
"Carl Al… that name sounds familiar," she murmured.
Though the name felt familiar, Diwan couldn't place it. Pulling out her phone, she sat on the sofa and scrolled through her contacts, flipped through her browser, and searched "Carl Al." The search itself made her uneasy.
What she initially thought was familiarity now seemed ominous—she hesitated, glancing between the search results and Carl, unsure whether he was teasing her.
"Can you… fly?" she asked. Immediately, regret hit her—why had she provoked someone so erratic?
"You mean… like this?" Carl said, and then he floated into the air. His cape remained perfectly still, without a single ripple of wind.
"Oh, my god—"
Diwan jumped from the sofa in shock, stumbling back several steps. The events of this evening stirred three emotions in her at once: fear, uncertainty, and complete mental overload. Her heart raced, the constant stimulation was overwhelming, and she wasn't sure when—or if—she would break down.
Leaning against the wall, her legs trembling, Diwan watched as Carl stood on the floor below. He gave her a gentle, apologetic smile.
After a long moment, Diwan began to relax, though her huge eyes were still wide with disbelief. Tears pricked her eyes. If she were an ordinary person, she could rationalize it—but nothing she had experienced in her life could prepare her for this. Carl was not a man… he felt like a ghost.
Someone appeared in her room without explanation. The lights flickered. He floated silently, effortlessly. The reality was so surreal that her mind began to unravel, and she couldn't stop the tears streaming down her face.
"I didn't mean to scare you," Carl said softly. "If you don't want me to fly, I won't. You're the first person I've met in this world. I don't want to hurt you—you have no reason to be afraid."
The girl before him, her eyes dulled with fear, pressed herself against the wall, wishing she could disappear into it.
"I really won't hurt you," Carl repeated, crouching down to meet her gaze, his voice gentle, trying to reassure her.
But it was no use. Seeing him crouch, Diwan rolled her eyes in disbelief—and fainted.
The constant stress had finally overwhelmed her. The day had been too full of sudden, unexplainable events, and her body's instinct for self-preservation took over.
Carl sighed softly, lifting the unconscious Diwan into his arms. He carried her to her room, covered her with a blanket, and then returned to the living room. Pulling open the curtains, he stood at the window, gazing out at the world beyond.
He didn't understand why he had suddenly appeared here. The strange environment left him unable to move freely, only able to observe this unfamiliar world in silence. He felt guilty for frightening her but was powerless to change the situation.
Carl's knowledge of everyday life, however, was extensive. He knew how to use all the items in the house, understood their functions, and could operate them without question. Though sudden, it seemed natural—as if he had always belonged.
…
The summer morning sun rose unusually early. At five o'clock, the first rays peeked shyly over the horizon, and Carl greedily soaked in the sunlight.
He had stood by the window all night, pondering, though his understanding of this world was still limited. All he could do was wait—for the girl in the room to awaken.
Diwan awoke quietly, her mind still reeling from the events of last night. She suspected it might have been a dream, wished it were—but nothing about it had felt unreal.
Cautiously, she rose, relieved to see him still wearing yesterday's clothes, unharmed. A glance around the room confirmed she was alone.
She approached the door, opened it, and peeked out, immediately spotting a figure standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, tall and strong, bathed in sunlight.
Carl knew she had awakened but did not turn to her. He remained at the window, mindful not to startle her fragile heart.
After a night of rest, Diwan was no longer terrified, but she remained cautious.
"Why aren't you leaving?" she asked, recalling last night's chaos and looking at the man's attire—exactly like Superman's, only more handsome than any movie depiction. She couldn't help but wonder: could he really be Superman?
Carl turned slightly toward her, careful not to disturb her fragile state. "I don't know where to go. I don't know what to do. This is my first time in this world. There's so much I don't understand."
His calm voice reassured her a little. Slowly, she approached the window, stopping about two meters away, studying him carefully.
"If you're going to be in this world, you need to adapt. Staying with me won't help you. I'm just an ordinary girl. I can't raise you. You should go out and explore this world for yourself."
"I… saw the world last night," Carl replied. He had "observed" Earth with his heightened senses, turning sound into mental images, much like a dream.
"Then why are you still here? I'm busy. I don't have time to take care of you. Go. If my assistant finds you here again, I'll call the police immediately."
Carl's sudden appearance had a purpose. He didn't want to leave before understanding why he was here, why he was in her home.
Diwan groaned inwardly. She was exhausted—beating, scolding, calling the police… everything seemed meaningless. After all, the man could fly. What if she called the authorities and he simply disappeared?
Sighing, she sat back on the sofa, thinking about how to help him. If he wanted to work, she could offer him a job. At least that way, he could survive, even if he really was Superman.
Then it hit her—Carl had no ID. Without it, he couldn't officially work. This made her task more complicated.
She flopped back onto the sofa. She was a minor celebrity, after all. ID or not, she couldn't babysit him forever.
Then a bold thought struck her, making her pulse race. Superman… as her bodyguard… nobody else in the world could receive such protection.
Considering the risks, she realized, having Superman by her side was a safety guarantee. If anyone asked, he was just her bodyguard. No one would question his identity.
"Fine," she said, a small smile forming. "You can be my bodyguard. I'll have my assistant get you some proper clothes—dressing like this will make people think you've lost your mind."
Carl smiled. "Thank you!"
Diwan grinned. "No salary. You eat, sleep, and wear clothes at your own cost. You protect me, watch my back, and don't hurt anyone unnecessarily."
"Yes," Carl agreed.
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