That's a pretty detailed and large task — but no problem, I'll take care of it carefully.
I'll start by showing you the first rewritten portion for confirmation, then continue with the full thing if you're happy with the style.
Here's the first part rewritten based on your requirements:
Just as Mark was preparing to continue verbally attacking his son, Eowyn appeared, interrupting him.
"Mark, say a little less..."
Her eyes were still red, filled not only with disappointment but also with deep regret and heartache as she looked at her son, Ben.
"Say a little less?" Mark retorted angrily. "Do you know that when the Spirit Realm opens next month, your son will be forcibly teleported in? With the trash talent he's fused with, he's likely to die inside!"
"Scolding him is light; I wish I could beat him to death! At least if he dies here, I can collect his body, but if he dies in the Spirit Realm, I won't even get to see his corpse..."
As he spoke to the end, Mark's tone was full of sadness.
The "Spirit Realm" he mentioned was actually what everyone called the Land of Transcendence.
In truth, the Spirit Realm was extremely dangerous; it even had another name—the Land of the Uncanny!
Within it existed countless incomprehensible monsters—the embodiments of chaos.
Just looking at them could cause a normal person to suffer severe mental trauma instantly, turning them into madmen or idiots!
Without strong enough talent and strength, entering the Spirit Realm was basically a death sentence.
The Spirit Realm opened once a month.
Upon opening, most transcendents were forcibly teleported into its domain for adventure.
If they returned alive, they would receive rewards, growing stronger.
This was the primary path for most transcendents to improve.
Want to retire? Possible, yes—but only after passing through the first ten layers of the Spirit Realm.
The first ten layers were mandatory. Only after surviving them could a transcendent gain the right to choose whether to continue future adventures.
...
Mark's words instantly shattered Eowyn's psychological defenses, and she burst into tears again.
They only had one son—Ben.
Their precious child, whom they had painstakingly raised, was about to face a near-death situation.
How could they not be heartbroken?
Eowyn's crying also affected Mark.
Although he didn't shed tears, he closed his eyes, silent, his hands hidden in his sleeves trembling uncontrollably.
Seeing this, Ben knew he needed to say something.
"Dad, Mom, don't worry!"
He deliberately flashed a confident smile.
"In your eyes, am I really that stupid? I'm not even married to Leo yet; how could I possibly give away such a precious natural fruit for nothing?"
His behavior immediately caught his parents' attention.
Seeing his confident smile, the couple exchanged glances, surprised and uncertain.
Eowyn hurriedly asked, "What do you mean? Son, explain clearly. Is there another reason behind your actions?"
Mark also stared closely at his son, waiting for an answer.
"Actually, for the past month, I've been having the same dream every night..." Ben began fabricating a story, talking about seeing the future in dreams, receiving guidance from immortals in sacred lands, and so on.
He had no choice but to lie.
If he told the truth—that he was a transmigrator—it was uncertain whether his parents could accept it.
He didn't want to gamble with human nature. Deception was the safest way.
"...All the signs proved that this Kryptonian bloodline isn't simple. Besides, aren't the sacred land's rules that the rarer the opportunity, the greater the chance? That's why I took the risk! It's not because of any nonsense love!"
When Ben finished, the couple looked at each other, hesitant.
They were both smart people, not easily fooled.
Mark frowned and asked skeptically, "Then since you've already fused with it, have you discovered anything special?"
Ben replied calmly, "I just fused with it; how could it happen so quickly? Give me a few months—you'll see!"
He had no intention of completely hiding the truth.
But explaining that Kryptonians grew stronger by basking in sunlight was far too bizarre.
Besides, it wasn't easy to justify how he knew this information.
It would be much better to wait until he produced real results and convinced them through proof.
Moreover, Mark was notorious for blurting things out when drunk—a bad habit that had led to countless arguments with Eowyn in the past.
Even though Mark had improved, Ben didn't want to risk it.
The secret of his Kryptonian bloodline was too important to reveal casually.
He had already shown great trust by telling them this much—to ease their worries.
There was another crucial point.
Earlier, Ben had checked his phone and discovered that among the few previous holders of the Kryptonian bloodline recorded in history, one had died early during Spirit Realm expeditions.
Another, by contrast, had survived all ten Spirit Realm trips, was still alive even at over eighty, and had retired peacefully.
Though that elder wasn't active anymore, Ben still viewed him cautiously.
He didn't want a second Kryptonian powerhouse on this planet.
...
At that moment, Eowyn was nearly persuaded.
Being a mother, she was emotional by nature—especially when it came to her only child.
In contrast, Mark was more rational and cautious.
"Wait a few months? Wait, my ass! Do you even know what the Spirit Realm is..." he started roaring.
But before he could finish.
Suddenly, Fourth Uncle—mark—rushed in, shouting excitedly from outside.
"Third Brother! Third Brother! Hurry up, there's good news!!"
The three were stunned.
Mark glared at Ben before quickly striding outside.
Curious, Eowyn and Ben followed behind.
In the yard, Fourth Uncle was enthusiastically chatting with a strange middle-aged man.
Seeing Mark come out, he immediately introduced:
"Third Brother, this is Mr. Aryan, a special recruiter from Chicago University!"
"Hello, hello! Welcome, Mr. Aryan," said Mark, immediately extending his hand respectfully.
Hearing the name Chicago University, he didn't dare neglect the guest.
"I wonder, why has Mr. Aryan come?" Mark asked cautiously.
"I'm here to deliver an admission notice," the middle-aged man surnamed Aryan smiled.
"On behalf of Chicago University, I am here to notify your son, Ben, that he has been admitted to our school. Please have Ben prepare to register within four days."
These words left Mark, Eowyn, and Ben stunned.
Mark couldn't help asking, "Could there be a mistake? My son's talent shouldn't meet your school's standards."
Chicago University was among the top ten transcendent universities—renowned across all of America, with strong faculty and countless powerful alumni.
Its admission criteria were naturally very high.
How could someone like Ben, with a seemingly trashy talent, be accepted?
"There's no mistake!" said Aryan, glancing at Ben meaningfully before explaining.
"You must have heard about what happened at your son's school," he said.
"After obtaining the Flare-Flare Fruit, Ben gave it selflessly to Leo, who needed it more. I personally admire Ben's magnanimity and generosity."
"But what truly convinced us to admit him...was Leo himself."
"After Ben left, Leo was immediately fought over by all the major universities. However, facing all those offers, he remained indifferent—only making one request."
"His only condition was that he must attend the same university as Ben!"
"And thus, Chicago University agreed to his request."