Clark Kent sat upright on the silk-laced bed, his sharp cerulean eyes scanning the gilded chamber around him.
Regal tapestries hung from dark stone walls, heavy with golden embroidery.
The air carried a sweet perfume—spiced incense and something subtly floral. It was foreign… but not unpleasant.
Then it came—the shimmer of translucent blue lines etching themselves into the air before him.
『DC System Initializing…』
A quiet chime followed, and the words unfolded into a full interface.
Like a glowing status board hovering midair, it organized itself neatly into panels.
His name glowed at the top:
[Name: Kal-El / Clark Kent]
[Age: 15 ]
[Race: Kryptonian]
[Home World: DC]
[Current World: Douluo Dalu (Soul Land)]
[Power: Silver Age Kryptonian Physiology | Meta awareness]
[Special Traits: Solar Core Realm | Dimensional Furnace: Linked to Evolving Micro-Suns][System Assistant: Elaine ???]
[World-Time Flow: 1 Year = 12 Hours (Cross-world sync active)]
[Harem System: Active]
Clark blinked. "So it wasn't a dream..."
Then He raised an eyebrow, almost amused. "DC System, huh? Sounds like something from cheap fanfic name."
A soft chime rang again, followed by a playful female voice, light and crisp like spring wind over a lake.
"Welcome to your personal system, Kal-El. I'm Elaine, your assistant—though I prefer partner. Not that you get a say in the title."
Clark chuckled. "Elaine, huh? Not much of a Unique name. But still nice name than the system title"
"Thanks I guess" She paused, then added with a teasing hum, "And you'll find I'm one of a kind."
He narrowed his gaze, inspecting the interface again.
It wasn't just tech. It was more… ethereal, like pure will had shaped it.
"So where exactly are you from?"
"That's a story for later." Her tone shifted, airy and evasive.
"For now, let's focus on your arrival. Welcome to Soul Land—where spirit rings sparkle and cultivators roar."
Clark frowned. "Spirit Hall… Douluo Dalu?"
He muttered to himself, "This is... the Soul Land I used to read about?"
A pause.
Then, a spark of realization.
"This world was fiction… wasn't it? Just like mine is fiction in this one?"
For the first time in years, something close to a shiver ran down his spine. Not fear. Not confusion.
Wonder.
Clark's smile thinned as he stood, his bare feet hovering inches off the stone.
The world didn't even resist.
Gravity bent politely beneath him.
He inhaled deeply.
The very air of this realm was… fragile.
Not just in molecular cohesion—but in concept.
As if the rules here were painted onto glass rather than chiseled into stone.
With a casual exhale, he let out a fraction of his presence.
The bed cracked.
The walls trembled.
A distant tremor rippled through the foundation of the entire Spirit Hall complex.
Clark immediately pulled back, frowning.
"Yup… definitely fragile."
Elaine whistled.
"You're holding back, and still, the world trembles. You'd break it by accident if you sneezed slightly, hehe."
"It's more like… a bubble waiting for a pin,"
Clark muttered, folding his arms.
"This world feels soft. Unreal. A child's dream compared to Metropolis."
He turned to the window, his super-hearing already drinking in thousands of voices from beyond—disciples training, elders chanting, children laughing, even someone muttering about spirit beast stew.
Farther still, he picked up heartbeat rhythms from miles away, layered through walls and hills.
His mind parsed languages and tones rapidly.
"…They have same cultivation tiers. Spirit rings… soul beasts… Hmm, just like in the anime."
"You're analyzing fast. Impressed?"
"I'm Superman," he said dryly. "Fifteen or not, that hasn't changed."
A moment passed in silence, the window bathing him in soft dusk-light. Then he sighed, gaze turning distant.
"Wonder what Mom, Lana, Diana and the others are doing," Clark murmured softly, his voice almost lost in the silence.
His mind flickered to warm afternoons in Kansas, the peaceful streets of Metropolis, and the brief, intense glances he shared with Diana on rooftops just before leaping into battle.
It hadn't been so long ago—only a few hours back in his home world—but here… time stretched differently.
Elaine chimed in, her voice gentle.
"About that—your time distortion setting is active. One year here equals only twelve hours back in the DC dimension. So no matter how long you're gone, your world will barely notice."
Clark arched a brow. "That's… convenient."
"You picked it, genius," she teased. "Also, one of your passive powers—tied to emotional tethering—lets you warp directly to loved ones in emergencies. If someone truly needs you, Kal, you'll know. You'll feel it. And you'll reach them in an instant."
He nodded slowly,
"Guess even in another world… being Superman doesn't come with days off."
actually he is very grateful as his main concern has been solved.
Before Elaine could reply, Clark's ears twitched.
His head tilted slightly—like a predator sensing movement.
"…Someone's coming," he muttered.
A moment later, the grand doors of the bedchamber creaked open.
Heavy silence fell as light spilled in.
Bibi Dong entered first—her robes regal, violet and gold with black silks flowing behind her.
Her presence was magnetic and commanding.
Just behind her stood Qian Renxue, eyes sharp and unreadable.
Flanking them were several high-ranking Spirit Hall members—silver-haired bishops and steely-eyed guards—all curious and tense, their gazes locked onto the boy floating just inches above the floor.
But Clark didn't feel nervous.
He stood calm, steady, his youthful face touched with warmth, his posture casual but controlled—like a god who had accidentally wandered into a mortal palace.
Qian Renxue's golden eyes studied him sharply.
She had always been surrounded by men who bowed, trembled, or wore ambition like cologne.
But this one… this boy was different.
He stood as if the world weighed less than his thoughts.
His skin was bronze-toned with a slight golden sheen, his jet-black hair tousled just enough to be effortlessly regal, and his eyes—blue like Earth's deepest skies—held a patience that didn't belong in a fifteen-year-old.
No, she thought, heartbeat skipping.
There's nothing childish about him.
The contours of his body were like sculpted marble—broad shoulders, a chest like a vault door, and abs that looked carved by lightning.
His body held restrained might—controlled, not flaunted.
Even without knowing his identity, Qian Renxue instinctively understood: he was no ordinary being.
He was masculinity incarnate.
The kind of figure she listned in ancient myths.
"I've never seen such… Man," she thought faintly, resisting the flush rising to her cheeks.
Beside her, Hu Liena also couldn't help but glance at him.
Her fox-like charm faltered under the raw reality of him.
It wasn't just that he was handsome—he was overwhelming.
Meanwhile, Bibi Dong's calculating gaze moved across Clark with a practiced eye.
She noted every shift in his posture, every breath—every ounce of energy radiating from his being.
Her instincts, sharpened by years of court politics and battlefield survival, screamed at her that this boy was beyond her world's comprehension.
Clark, for his part, simply observed.
His gaze met Bibi Dong's.
She was beautiful, yes—but not like in the novels or animated adaptations.
Here, her beauty was devastating.
Her eyes held centuries of pain and triumph, her lips pursed with authority, and her presence radiated the dignity of an empress forged from both divine favor and hellish torment.
The flow of her robes moved like smoke and silk—a queen cloaked in sorrow and supremacy.
Then his gaze shifted to Qian Renxue.
If Bibi Dong was a phoenix reborn from agony, this girl was a blade—pure, divine, and terrifyingly alone.
Her golden hair shimmered like sunlight distilled into threads.
Her skin was pale, flawless.
Her aura hinted at power buried deep beneath elegance.
She was heartbreak and judgment wrapped in celestial grace.
And finally—Hu Liena.
Her beauty was more sensual, like a rose in bloom under moonlight.
A predator with lips curved into promises and eyes that devoured.
Clark didn't leer.
He didn't gawk.
He simply watched—and smiled.
They weren't characters on a screen anymore.
They were real.
Elaine's voice spoke in his head once more, now quieter.
"You're drawing attention, Kal. Want me to apply appearance masking?"
Clark responded mentally, amused: Why? Let them look. I'm not hiding.
He stepped forward slowly, lowering his feet to the ground for the first time since waking up.
The marble didn't even dare creak beneath him.
Then he spoke, his voice firm but disarmingly kind.
"I'm not here to cause trouble. I just… landed. Not sure how long I'll stay. But I mean no harm."
The room didn't breathe.
For a moment, everyone wondered—
Was this boy… truly a god?
//Any female character suggestion from spirit hall which you guys like except these three ladies? Let me know in the comments if you have..//