Smallville was settling into the evening.
The last traces of red clouds lingered across the horizon, casting a warm glow over the town and the surrounding farmland.
Inside the second floor of the Secret Fortress at Kent Farm, Adrian rested comfortably in a recliner.
His eyes were closed, giving the appearance of someone asleep.
In reality, sleep was the last thing he needed.
With his current abilities, Adrian could remain awake for days without experiencing even the slightest fatigue. The reason he sat there with his eyes closed was far simpler.
He was listening.
Countless sounds from across the planet poured into his awareness.
Voices.
Conversations.
Traffic.
News broadcasts.
Arguments.
Laughter.
The endless noise of billions of lives.
His super hearing gathered those sounds from every corner of Earth, while his enhanced mind processed them at unimaginable speed.
Most of the information was worthless.
That was precisely why Adrian rarely relied on this method.
The efficiency was terrible.
For every useful piece of intelligence, there were millions of meaningless conversations cluttering the stream.
Even so, useful information occasionally surfaced.
And moments ago, he had overheard something interesting.
"Talia?"
A trace of surprise appeared in Adrian's eyes.
It was quickly replaced by disappointment.
He had listened to the conversation between Talia al Ghul and Malcolm Merlyn, expecting something significant.
Instead, most of it amounted to little more than threats and posturing.
He had honestly expected the League of Assassins to make a move against him.
Given Talia's personality, he had even considered the possibility that she would eliminate Malcolm outright.
Apparently not.
The result left him unimpressed.
"Still unwilling to act directly?"
Adrian slowly opened his eyes.
"Either she's exercising restraint, or those threats were nothing more than empty intimidation."
After a moment, he dismissed the matter entirely.
Whatever the League planned, it wasn't worth dwelling on now.
He rose from the recliner and headed downstairs.
The smell of dinner lingered throughout the farmhouse.
Martha was organizing a few things in the living room while Rachel sat nearby with a book in her hands.
The moment Adrian appeared, Martha looked toward him.
"Adrian."
Her tone carried mild concern.
"Did something happen at the Talon today? I heard you got into a conflict with someone."
Rachel immediately lowered her book and looked over with obvious curiosity.
She was always interested in anything involving her brother.
"Nothing serious."
Adrian shrugged.
"A group of bikers wanted trouble. I dealt with them."
"Bikers?"
Martha visibly relaxed.
She had heard complaints about several troublemakers hanging around the Talon recently.
"They've been bothering customers for days. If that's who you ran into, then perhaps they finally learned a lesson."
She knew Adrian well enough by now.
He never started problems without reason.
If he acted against someone, there was usually a good explanation.
Rachel's eyes lit up.
"Did you beat them up?"
"Rachel."
Martha shot her daughter a warning look.
She already worried enough about one superpowered child.
The last thing she wanted was Rachel developing an enthusiasm for fighting.
Adrian chuckled.
"Yeah. Then I handed them over to the police."
"They deserved it."
Rachel nodded approvingly.
"I ran into bad people today too."
That immediately got Martha's attention.
"What do you mean?"
Rachel hesitated.
"Two guys stopped me on the road while I was walking home."
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Martha abandoned what she was doing and sat beside her daughter.
"What happened?"
Rachel quickly began explaining.
Earlier that afternoon, she had been walking along one of Smallville's rural roads.
The weather had been pleasant, and traffic was relatively light.
Then an old pickup truck rattled past her.
The driver slowed briefly as if examining her before accelerating again.
A fast-food cup suddenly flew from the passenger window.
It narrowly missed her head before landing in a ditch nearby.
The truck continued down the road while laughter echoed from inside.
Naturally, Rachel wasn't happy.
She shouted after them.
"Keep driving like that and the sheriff will eventually come looking for you!"
To her surprise, the pickup's brake lights suddenly illuminated.
The vehicle slowed, reversed onto the shoulder, and stopped.
At first, Rachel assumed they were returning to apologize.
That seemed reasonable.
People made mistakes.
Responsible people apologized afterward.
She expected some middle-aged farmer to climb out of the truck.
Instead, two young men emerged.
One was tall and broad-shouldered, with messy blond hair and the kind of arrogant grin that immediately irritated people.
The other was shorter and noticeably heavier.
Freckles covered his face beneath a worn baseball cap.
Neither looked particularly intelligent.
Both looked exactly like the sort of troublemakers she preferred to avoid.
The blond one approached first.
Rachel crossed her arms.
"Nice truck."
She glanced at the rust-covered vehicle.
"It seems determined to fall apart at any moment."
The blond man laughed.
"It's my dad's truck."
"That explains a lot."
Rachel nodded seriously.
The shorter man moved behind her.
"Want a ride?"
"No."
Rachel smiled politely.
"My house isn't far."
The blond man's eyes lingered on her.
"You're pretty."
Rachel immediately disliked his tone.
It wasn't a compliment.
It felt more like an inspection.
"You don't look like you're from Smallville."
"I was unaware Smallville had a mandatory appearance requirement."
The blond man stepped closer.
Rachel's patience began evaporating.
She had spent enough time around Adrian to recognize the type.
They weren't interested in conversation.
They wanted a reaction.
Unfortunately for them, they had picked the wrong person.
"I am from Smallville."
Her voice became firmer.
"And before this conversation gets even more embarrassing, I'd recommend apologizing and leaving."
The blond man only grinned.
"I like your attitude."
Rachel rubbed her forehead.
"Final warning."
Her expression turned serious.
"Leave."
Neither listened.
The shorter man reached toward her.
That was enough.
Rachel reacted instantly.
She drove her head backward.
Crunch.
The impact connected directly with the man's nose.
He screamed and staggered away while clutching his face.
Rachel grabbed his arm before he could recover.
Using his own momentum against him, she hurled him forward.
The unfortunate thug flew several feet before crashing into the ground.
The blond man's confident expression disappeared.
Shock replaced it.
Rachel didn't give him time to recover.
She feinted toward his eyes, forcing him to flinch.
Then she punched him squarely in the chest.
Once.
Twice.
The blond man doubled over violently.
His breath vanished.
A second later he collapsed beside his friend.
Rachel coughed awkwardly.
"And then..."
She glanced toward Martha.
"I ran away."
Silence filled the room.
Martha stared at her daughter.
Rachel stared back.
"Oh my God."
Martha looked completely stunned.
"Rachel, you injured them?"
Rachel immediately lowered her head.
"I didn't mean to hurt them that badly."
Her confidence vanished.
"I got scared after they stopped moving, so I ran home. I didn't call the police."
She cautiously glanced toward Adrian for support.
The message was obvious.
Help me.
"Rachel."
Martha rubbed her forehead.
"Why didn't you tell me this immediately?"
Her frustration wasn't directed at the self-defense.
It was the secrecy.
Something serious had happened, and Rachel had kept it hidden.
That hurt far more than the fight itself.
Meanwhile, Adrian wasn't concerned in the slightest.
From his perspective, the two idiots had received exactly what they deserved.
Rachel possessed excellent control over her abilities.
If she wanted serious damage, those men would have required an ambulance.
"It's fine, Mom."
Adrian spoke before Rachel could.
"She defended herself."
Martha looked unconvinced.
"Those men approached her, harassed her, and ignored multiple warnings. Rachel didn't do anything wrong."
Rachel nodded vigorously.
Exactly.
That was exactly what happened.
While comforting Martha, Adrian silently made a mental note.
If those two decided to continue causing trouble, he would personally make sure they regretted it.
Before anyone could continue the conversation, a knock suddenly echoed through the farmhouse.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.