Chapter 1/4 - Preview of Reborn with Friendship System (DC/Smallville)

This is one of the projects that has the 'potential' to become official, It’s inspired by Smallville/DCU, with a unique twist—the MC befriend the Man of Steel himself.

The story incorporates a "friendship system"—when the MC reaches a friendly level with someone, he can obtain a Character Card that grants him a small portion of that person’s abilities. However, this system is sparingly used, so the MC isn’t so overpowered. Instead, it follows a gradual, weak-to-strong progression.

The story also leans heavily into comedy, so you can expect plenty of laughs!

If you’ve got the time, please check out those chapters and share your honest thoughts. Your feedback would mean a lot!

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Chapter 1: The Friendship System

In a small Kansas high school, Atlas Rogers was sitting by himself on the bleachers, gazing out at the football field. The other teenagers were running drills on the grass, but his thoughts were miles away.

“I mean, it’s been sixteen years and I still can’t believe it really happened. I swear I never got hit by a car, never had my computer explode, never got electrocuted or anything like that. I was just sleeping peacefully when—bam—I woke up in this new life!”

Yes, Atlas was originally an ordinary guy in his old life, someone with a normal family, close friends, even someone he admired from afar. Then, for reasons unknown, he simply woke up one day as a baby in another world.

He spent his first sixteen years growing up in this small town, learning, and blending in seamlessly with everyone else.

He took on the name Atlas Rogers. His parents had disappeared during a devastating meteor shower a decade ago; since then, his uncle—Sheriff James Rogers—had raised him.

“Riiing—”

A long bell signaled a break on the field. The high school football players gathered for a short rest. Whitney, the quarterback, carried over a large cooler of sodas and shouted to the team:

“Hey, fellas, come on over! These drinks are from Atlas—let’s all thank him!”

A crowd of players and cheerleaders rushed over, quickly emptying the cooler. Whitney grabbed two bottles and walked up to Atlas in the bleachers.

“Dude, thanks for the drinks. You look like you could handle yourself—ever thought about playing football?”

Despite being only eighteen, Whitney already stood about six-foot-one, towering over Atlas and blocking half the sunlight.

Atlas, who was also athletically built, flashed a grin and took the soda. “You sound just like my uncle. He’s always nagging me, talking about how he was the star quarterback back in his day. Drives me crazy!”

Whitney clapped him on the shoulder. “If you joined the team, you’d see the appeal—plus, it’s a great way to meet lots of girls. But enough talk. I gotta get these guys back to practice.”

No sooner had he left than Atlas heard a sudden ding ring through his mind.

[Friendship Value increased to [Friendly], Whitney’s Character Card unlocked.]

He recognized that voice. It was tied to a strange system he’d discovered upon waking as a baby—his Friendship System.

In simple terms, Friendship ranged from Dislike → Neutral → Friendly → Trusted → Admired → Life-and-Death Bond.

Once Atlas reached Friendly with someone, he could obtain a Character Card that granted a portion of that person’s abilities.

A while ago, Atlas had gone out of his way to befriend the town’s mayor, hoping to unlock some powerful skill—but ended up with “Having an Affair Without Your Spouse Finding Out.”

At the time, Atlas was so frustrated he nearly blew a fuse.

'Seriously? I don’t even have a girlfriend, and you give me a 'cheating' perk?'

'This system can be a real troll…'

He took a quick breath. “Let’s see what you’ve got for me, Whitney—football star at least sounds more promising than ‘infidelity expert.’”

Closing his eyes, Atlas activated his Friendship System with a thought. Rows of cards, like a digital gallery, appeared before him. The newly unlocked card was white:

• White Card: Whitney

• Species: Human

• Main Card Effect: Basic Charisma Boost, Dating Specialist

• Additional Notes: Ordinary physique, not much growth potential.

“Hey, that’s way better than the last skill! A big box of sodas in exchange for some improved charm? I’ll take it!”

Within his Friendship System, cards were tiered by rarity: White (common), Blue (rare), Purple (heroic), Gold (legendary), and Orange (epic).

He could slot one card into his main slot, along with other cards in secondary slots. Typically, only a Main Slot card conferred its full effect; secondary slots offered partial benefits.

The strength of each card also scaled with the level of friendship.

Right now, Atlas and Whitney were only at “Friendly,” so the card would yield about 40% of its power. If their bond deepened to “Trusted,” it would jump to 55%, and so on.

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Satisfied, Atlas mentally equipped Whitney’s card to his Main Slot. Instantly, it felt as though a subtle glow enveloped him, boosting his confidence and making him appear that much more attractive.

He exhaled, suddenly feeling a pang in his chest—an inexplicable wave of sorrow that he forced himself to bury.

'No time to mope,' he told himself, 'I’ve got better things to focus on.'

Just then, a group of cheerleaders passed by, noticing Atlas sitting there alone. One girl gasped, shivering with excitement.

“Wow, look at that guy. He’s so handsome… I love that brooding vibe!”

Atlas looked over at the giggling cluster of blonde girls—typical teenage socialites.

'Holy crap… does this card work that well?' He tried to keep a cool expression, adopting the classic “I have a secret, but I’m not telling” face.

And then Lana Lang appeared, an especially striking brunette from the next class. She approached him with an exquisite smile: “Hey, Atlas. Could you help me with something?”

Atlas recognized her all too well; he’d once tried to ask her out, and it had been… a train wreck. Pushing aside that embarrassing memory, he turned and gave a polite, faintly melancholy smile.

“Of course, Lana. What can I do for you?”

“Well, several players are graduating this year, so the coach wants us to recruit new talent for the team. There’s someone who’d be a perfect fit, but he doesn’t seem interested in football. Since you’re on good terms with people, I was hoping you could help me talk him into it.” Lana’s eyes sparkled with an almost pleading look.

Keeping his composure, Atlas asked, “Sure thing, Lana. I’ll do what I can. So who’s the lucky guy you need to convince?”

“Clark Kent,” she replied.

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Chapter 2: Clark Kent

The moment he heard that name, Atlas practically blurted, “Wait… who? Say that again?”

Startled by his reaction, Lana repeated, “Clark Kent, from the Kent Farm. His dad is Jonathan Kent—he played quarterback back in high school.”

Kent Farm… Clark Kent… the meteor shower ten years ago…

Even though Atlas had grown up here since infancy, certain old memories from his past life were starting to resurface—like the fact that he used to be a huge comic book fan, or how Clark Kent was literally Superman.

'Oh my god… oh my GOD. Did I end up in the DC Universe? Is this… Smallville?! The very same Smallville that Superman grew up in!?'

He almost couldn’t believe it. Then again, it made sense. The sign for the town read “Smallville,” but he’d never connected the dots until this moment.

'Most people only think of Superman as a guy in a red cape who flies overhead, right? No one expects him to be the quiet loner from your sophomore class…'

Noticing Atlas’s ashen expression, Lana asked gently, “Atlas, you okay? You look weird ever since I mentioned Clark.”

“Oh, sorry—just realized something.” A flash of mischief crossed Atlas’s mind, and he joked, “My mom’s name is Martha, too!”

Lana blinked, confused. “I… never mentioned his mom’s name at all.”

“Right, sorry,” Atlas said, waving it off. 'Just referencing that infamous “Martha” moment from Batman v Superman,' he thought.

“Never mind. Let’s go find him.”

She nodded, still baffled, and led Atlas back inside. They walked down the hall to a second-year classroom, where a solitary figure sat reading.

Atlas recognized him immediately: a sixteen-year-old with dark hair and a sturdy frame, turning around just as they arrived.

“Hey, Clark,” Lana said. But as she came closer, Clark’s previously calm face went pale.

“H-Hey, Lana.”

It was obvious Clark had a crush on her, though even he wasn’t sure why her presence left him feeling so weak. More often than not, he admired her from a distance, reluctant to approach.

Atlas glanced at the glowing green stone on the chain around Lana’s neck.

'Kryptonite…'

That explained it. Over a decade ago, her parents had also been lost during the same meteor shower. She’d made a necklace with that strange green rock to remember them by—unknowingly making herself Kryptonite to poor Clark.

Lana pouted. “Why do you always look sick when I come near you?”

Which was exactly why she’d asked Atlas to tag along. “Let me handle this,” Atlas said, gently guiding Lana back a step. He positioned himself between her and Clark so the Kryptonite’s effect would lessen. Sure enough, Clark’s expression improved.

“Hey, Clark, I’m Atlas—Atlas Rogers,” he said, inwardly thinking, 'But I know you’re really Kal-El.'

“Hi, I’m Clark Kent.”

And thus began Atlas’s first real conversation with the future Superman. In his old memories, Clark had always been a sports-loving teen. Around here, the football players were the coolest guys in school. Almost everyone wanted to join the team; it was practically a local tradition. Naturally, Clark liked it too.

But Clark wasn’t an ordinary kid—he had tremendous strength. By the time he was six, he could lift cars, and ordinary blades or bullets couldn’t hurt him.

Hiding his gifts was crucial, so joining a team sport that involved high-contact tackles seemed risky.

As a result, Clark often felt isolated and uncertain of his identity. He had no clue who he really was or where he’d come from.

'Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Being a hero is never easy.'

Clearing his throat, Atlas spoke up. “So… the team’s losing a bunch of players to graduation this year. We want to invite you to join. Any interest?”

Clark shook his head. “Sorry, my dad won’t let me try out for the team.”

Jonathan Kent had his reasons—he didn’t want Clark’s powers exposed, and he was protecting the other players too. In football, a tackle on Clark would be like slamming into a steel wall.

Still, Atlas didn’t want to give up so easily. He sensed this was a perfect chance to build a rapport. If they became genuine friends, maybe he’d unlock Clark’s Character Card.

'Superman’s friendship… you can’t beat that!'

Putting on his most encouraging tone, Atlas said, “Clark, I get it—you’ve got special circumstances. But let me ask: what do you want? If you search your heart, do you really want to stay on the sidelines, or do you want to give it a shot?”

Clark seemed stunned. Having grown up with his dad’s strict rules, he’d never heard someone ask him what he truly wanted. “I… I want to fit in,” he admitted quietly. “But… I can’t.”

Atlas rested a hand on Clark’s shoulder—holy cow, the guy felt like solid steel. “Maybe you should give yourself a chance. Give everyone else a chance to see who you are. Sometimes it isn’t as impossible as you think.”

Even Atlas had to laugh at himself for the over-the-top motivational speech, but somehow, it worked. Clark’s eyes flickered with renewed hope.

“Are you sure I can do this?” he asked.

Atlas gave him a firm nod. “Today at two, let’s try a practice session. If it’s a disaster, then you can decide against joining.”

Clark hesitated only a moment longer before nodding. “I’ll come. I mean, I still need to convince my dad, but… I’ll try.”

He sounded uncertain, but at least Atlas now had an excuse to keep hanging out with him and gradually build their friendship.

After Clark collected some books and left, Atlas mentally accessed his Friendship System. Sure enough, a newly revealed card glimmered in the gallery:

Clark Kent –Friendship Value: 50% of Neutral. Once it rose to Friendly, the card would fully unlock. And the color of that card?

Purple—a Heroic tier!

'Yes!' Atlas grinned internally.

'This has gotta be a Purple Hero Card. Even if he’s not Superman yet, Its gotta be one of the best cards I’ll ever get.'

Watching Clark disappear down the hall, Lana smiled at Atlas.

“Wow, Atlas. I honestly didn’t think you’d get him to say yes. I wasn’t expecting much.”

He gave her a playful shrug, letting the faint aura of Basic Charisma from Whitney’s card work its magic. “Hey, I can be pretty persuasive.”

Lana laughed. “A bit full of yourself, aren’t you? So how do you want me to thank you for this favor?”

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Chapter 3: “Dude, You’ve Got This”

“The Lap-Sit Move!”

Maybe others wouldn’t get it, but as a die-hard DC fan, Atlas knew perfectly well that teenage Clark Kent once had a crush on a girl named Lana Lang.

At first, Atlas had just been surprised that this girl in his own life shared the same name. Who could have guessed it was the exact same Lana Lang?

'I’m dead—I’m so dead. If Clark forgot something and came back to grab it, seeing me like this… My precious Friendship Value that took so long to build might drop straight to zero!'

Steeling himself, Atlas was about to push Lana off his lap when, to his shock, she leaned in with a faint flush, pressed her soft lips lightly to his cheek, and whispered something sweet.

Leaving Atlas utterly dumbfounded.

'Wow… so teenage girls really do move fast.'

He tried reminding himself: 'We’re just doing homework together—no one’s getting pregnant from that!'

Plus, Clark’s official “canon” partner was Lois Lane, and they never truly ended up together in the mainstream story, so it wasn’t like Atlas was messing with some destined love or anything…

He suddenly realized how amazing Whitney’s “ladies’ charm” effect truly was.

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Back home at noon, Atlas found the house empty—his uncle James was busy at the station, and his aunt had long since left for Metropolis.

With no one around, Atlas grabbed some potatoes and a steak from the fridge, tossed them in a pan, and called it lunch.

In comparison to the big event that evening—“helping Lana study”—football practice that afternoon seemed a lot less urgent. If Clark was enjoying himself on the field, then good for him. As for Atlas, he needed to show up at Lana’s house in style.

Flowers, a small gift, maybe some desserts—he refused to skimp on any of it.

It might have been the lingering effect of Whitney’s Character Card, but Atlas’s mind seemed to be firing on all cylinders. Making a girl happy, well… the secret was to buy, buy, buy and surprise, surprise, surprise.

A small token or two could create a romantic flourish, enough to break down her defenses. Then, the possibilities would be endless.

'Where was this wisdom back when I was single? I deserve to slap myself for being so clueless!'

During his midday break, Atlas headed into town and bought everything he needed.

'Am I letting the so-called “decadent side of capitalism” corrupt me?' he wondered. But he shrugged it off.

'If I have to be corrupted for the sake of a new world, then so be it.'

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By the time afternoon rolled around, Atlas showed up at the school’s football field with a box of sodas. He spotted Clark already waiting there.

“Hey, Clark—you got here early!”

Atlas was pleasantly surprised to notice that over the noon break, his Friendship Value with Clark had gone up another 10%, now at 60%. He was just 40% away from reaching Friendly.

Clark gave Atlas a relaxed smile. “I’ve been here for a while.”

“Your dad agreed so easily?” Atlas had half-expected Jonathan Kent to veto the whole thing.

“I argued with him, but he finally relented. I just know I can do this,” Clark said resolutely.

In other words, 'Don’t worry—I’ll be super careful not to hurt any of you fragile Earthlings.' Atlas couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

As more players strolled in, along with a handful of cheerleaders obviously swooning, Atlas noticed that thanks to Whitney’s “Charisma boost,” he was still getting quite a bit of attention.

Once the star quarterback himself, Whitney, arrived, he came straight over to Atlas. “So you’re joining practice too, Atlas?”

“Not just me. I brought a friend.” Atlas waved Clark over.

“Clark Kent, meet Whitney.”

Whitney beamed at Clark. “I’ve been hoping you’d join, Kent. And since you came with Atlas, let’s put you guys on the same team for practice.”

Clark nodded. As Whitney went off to organize, Clark turned to Atlas, voice laced with gratitude. “Thanks for this. You’ve really got some pull around here.”

Atlas’s grin broadened. “You make more friends, you’ll be just as popular.”

They were still talking when the cheerleaders began their own routine. Lana, front and center, waved her pom-poms enthusiastically toward Atlas and Clark.

Atlas caught the soft look in Clark’s eyes as he gazed at her.

'Hard to imagine that the Man of Steel could ever be this quietly emotional.'

“Love is a light… that sometimes turns you green with envy,” Atlas said cryptically.

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When practice began, Atlas and Clark ended up on the newbie squad—players with under a year of experience. On the opposite side was Whitney and the older vets. Everyone strapped on their gear, and at the coach’s whistle, the game was on.

American football is different from soccer, mostly about grabbing the ball and charging forward, which makes for great spectacle. It’s often called the ultimate test of guts.

Atlas wasn’t big on the rules—he just ran around near Clark. Clark became the team’s ace, constantly pushing forward with the ball.

Of course, he was careful to keep his power in check. When defenders collided with him, he’d make it look as if they’d knocked him back. In truth, ramming a car at full speed wouldn’t budge him, never mind a few high-schoolers.

Then, after breaking past the defense, Clark kicked the ball clean through the uprights for three points—so fast that the other side hardly saw what happened.

The cheerleaders went wild, their teenage voices chanting “Clark Kent!” Clark’s face lit up with pure joy.

“Nicely done, man—I knew you had it in you!”

Atlas rushed over, throwing an arm around Clark’s shoulders. The big guy didn’t even budge—his mind was obviously elsewhere.

'Eh, guess I’ll ignore that detail.'

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Chapter 4: “What’s It Like Getting Hit by Superman?”

Only half an hour into afternoon practice, the newbie squad had already racked up twelve points, even with Clark holding back.

'It’s too easy to win when you’re on the same team as a budding Superman,' Atlas thought, grinning.

Better yet, in that short span, his Friendship Value with Clark had climbed another 5%. Perfect day all around.

On the far side, the senior players were getting restless. This was supposed to be a friendly session where older students taught the newbies, yet the newbies were dominating. Talk about embarrassing.

“All right, I’ll try to block Clark,” Whitney announced to his teammates. “Let’s see if we can trip him up and drive him to the ground. Then we’ll switch to Formation B.”

They’d identified Clark as the newbie squad’s linchpin. Shut him down, and there was hope yet.

When the whistle blew, Atlas passed the ball to Clark and ran behind him in full sidekick mode, acting like he deserved half the credit for every success.

That’s when Whitney suddenly lunged in a sliding tackle aimed at Clark.

'Dang, tackling Superman head-on? That guy’s got guts!' Atlas thought, feeling new respect for Whitney’s fearlessness.

So far, Clark had been riding a wave of euphoria—he’d scored multiple times, He was on top of the world.

He never expected Whitney to come in for a low tackle. He couldn’t allow Whitney to make contact—sliding into Clark would be like throwing yourself under a speeding truck.

'This is bad!'

At the last second, Clark shifted his right foot, leaping over Whitney’s tackle. But the sudden move threw him off balance. His momentum faltered, and he stumbled backward.

Right… into Atlas.

Atlas had been so busy watching the scene that he only realized Clark was falling when it was too late.

Maybe if it were Dwayne Johnson or someone normal, Atlas would’ve tried to catch him, but this was Clark Kent—the future Man of Steel. A living block of iron barreling toward you… yeah, not exactly something you want to “help” catch.

He tried to dodge, but his reflexes weren’t superhuman. All he saw was Clark’s rapidly approaching form.

'Dude… take it easy, we’re on the same side!'

That was Atlas’s last coherent thought. A sickening crack rang out, and the next thing he knew, he was airborne.

It felt like getting hit by a car going 80 miles per hour.

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“Oh my God, Atlas!”

“What the heck happened?!”

“Somebody call an ambulance—he broke something!”

Atlas struggled to cling to consciousness, but the moment he heard “ambulance,” he panicked. Ambulances were notoriously expensive. In that split second, fear overwhelmed him, and he passed out cold.

'I’m ruined. My savings… gone. And I won’t get to help Lana with her homework tonight either… my disappointment is immeasurable!'

When Atlas finally opened his eyes again, he was lying in a hospital bed. The small room had only this one bed, and the curtains on the west side were pulled back, letting in warm midday sun.

“Thank God you’re awake!”

The speaker was a middle-aged man in a police uniform, eyes red from lack of sleep. Atlas recognized him as his uncle, James Rogers.

Trying to shift his body, Atlas hissed in pain. James pressed down gently on his shoulder. “Don’t move. The doctor said you broke three ribs and fractured your right hand. Focus on recovering.”

“Uncle James… how long was I out?” Atlas asked weakly. Even speaking was exhausting.

“All afternoon and through the night. Don’t worry—I’ve arranged time off from school,” James said with a sigh.

“That Kent kid sure got careless…”

Of course, injuries do happen in football, so no one suspected Clark of anything unusual.

“It’s not his fault. Stuff happens in a contact sport,” Atlas said, eager to protect Clark.

“I guess I was too weak. I need to train harder.”

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He certainly didn’t blame Clark. It wasn’t intentional, and hey, Atlas still hoped to get that Superman card eventually.

As he thought about the system, Atlas closed his eyes, slipping into the [Friendship System]. He’d expected this incident to maybe push his bond with Clark higher, but to his shock, the value had dropped to 30%.

'Seriously?!'

Not only was Atlas badly hurt, losing out on a chance to study alone with Lana that night, but his Friendship Value with Clark had also plummeted? Talk about losing on both fronts!

'Well, I guess it makes sense,' Atlas reasoned. Clark probably felt so guilty that he couldn’t face Atlas. That crushing sense of responsibility might be messing with the Friendship Value.

'At least he didn’t find out about me and Lana’s… closeness.' He shuddered at that possibility.

James watched Atlas’s expression change and tried to sound encouraging. “I’m proud of you for taking it so well. Oh, by the way, those flowers at your bedside were from a young lady. I think she was from the Lang family?”

“Yeah, she came by last night,” James said, shrugging. “The Kents also dropped in. I think they’ll be back around noon.”

Sure enough, footsteps sounded in the hallway, and the door opened. First in was a middle-aged couple, followed by a downcast Clark and a nervous-looking Lana carrying fresh flowers.

“Sheriff Rogers, I’m so sorry for all the trouble,” said the man in the worn denim jacket, shaking James’s hand. Then they turned to Atlas. Atlas recognized them as Jonathan and Martha Kent—Clark’s adoptive parents.

Martha, who still had a gentle grace to her, offered a small container with an apologetic smile. “Atlas, I want to say sorry on Clark’s behalf. I made some soup for you. I hope it helps you recover quickly.”

“I tried a sip myself—Martha’s soup is delicious,” Lana added, placing new flowers by the bed. She gave Clark a little nudge, prompting him to speak.

Clark opened his mouth, clearly riddled with guilt, hating that his powers had caused this. All he wanted was a normal high-school life—playing football and hanging out with friends.

“I’m… sorry.”

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Atlas glanced around and then said quietly, “Hey, could everyone else step out for a minute? I’d like a word alone with Clark.”

Martha looked concerned. “Why not say it with us here?”

But Jonathan intervened, gently raising a hand to stop her. He gave Atlas a polite nod. “Sure. Clark, you stay here with Atlas. We’ll head out.”

With Jonathan taking the lead, everyone else left, though Lana pouted, “Hmph. Why can’t I listen in?”