"Son, what exactly did you use on me yesterday?"
Jonathan Kent sat at the breakfast table in high spirits, happily eating the sandwich Martha had just made. If anyone had seen him now, they would never guess that less than twenty-four hours earlier he had been unconscious with a raging fever and poison spreading through his body.
In fact, he felt better than he had in years.
Jonathan stretched his shoulders slightly while chewing, looking both energized and confused.
"I've never felt this strong before," he admitted. "It's like my body's been completely reset."
"It's called the Dionysian Factor," Victor replied calmly.
"The what?" Jonathan frowned. "Is that some kind of metal?"
His expression immediately became worried.
"If it's metal… am I going to have trouble going through airport security in the future?"
"Not exactly," Victor said with a faint smile.
Knowing that the idea of swallowing metal would alarm most people, he quickly adjusted his explanation to something more acceptable.
"You can think of it like herbal medicine."
Even though the Dionysian Factor could theoretically grant immortality and resurrect the dead, Jonathan's appearance hadn't changed much. That didn't surprise Victor. After all, even someone like Lei Xiaogu—who had lived for more than seven hundred years—still looked like a middle-aged man.
It seemed likely that the Dionysian Factor didn't significantly alter a person's outward age.
"Herbal medicine?"
Martha hesitated as she held the stone test tube Victor had given her earlier that morning. Inside it was the remaining portion of dark green liquid metal.
Victor had told her it would be good for her health.
Still, even knowing her son would never harm her, the idea of drinking something that looked like liquid metal was difficult to accept. She wasn't sick, and drinking medicine without a reason felt strange.
Across the table, Clark quietly drank the seafood soup Martha had prepared.
He had barely spoken all morning.
Victor noticed the distant look on his brother's face.
Something was clearly bothering him.
Clark had asked Victor the previous night what he and Kayla had been discussing outside the farmhouse. Victor had simply brushed it off and said it was nothing important.
But Clark had already heard most of the conversation.
"Sergai… destroy the world…"
Victor glanced at Clark again, sensing the tension in his posture.
Was Clark still thinking about Rickman?
Victor remembered the man he had killed.
Maybe Clark was still struggling with the memory.
The previous night, when Clark asked about the conversation with Kayla, Victor had assumed it was just casual curiosity.
He hadn't realized Clark had overheard everything.
"Being called the chosen savior of some ancient prophecy," Victor thought silently while finishing his breakfast. "And then having to repeat it yourself… that's embarrassing enough already."
Sooner or later Kayla would realize her tribe's prophecy was flawed anyway.
Once that happened, the entire issue would disappear.
Victor sighed inwardly.
It was all just a misunderstanding.
No one liked the idea of being labeled as some future villain destined to destroy the world. There was no point telling Clark something so meaningless if it would only make him feel worse.
After breakfast, the brothers headed to school.
"Victor, where did you disappear to these last two days?"
Chloe and Pete immediately surrounded him with curious looks the moment they met near the school entrance.
Victor spread his hands casually.
"Family business," he said. "I had to go to Gotham."
"Gotham?"
Chloe and Pete exchanged a quick glance.
They had both heard that name before.
"I've read stories about that place," Chloe said with a slight grimace. "Apparently gangs control half the city. People say you shouldn't even walk down an alley during the day."
She loved investigating strange mysteries, but gang violence and street crime weren't nearly as appealing.
"At least Smallville feels safer."
"It's probably gotten a little better lately," Victor replied with a shrug.
Batman's appearance hadn't magically cured Gotham's corruption, but it had at least introduced fear into the criminal world. Even hardened gang members now hesitated before committing crimes.
They never knew when the Dark Knight might appear from the shadows and send them straight to prison.
"I heard there's some masked vigilante there," Pete added suddenly. "They call him Batman."
"Batman…"
Clark, who had been staring quietly out the bus window, tightened his lips when he heard the name.
During their trip to Gotham yesterday, he had been too desperate to find a way to save Jonathan to think about anything else.
But what he saw there afterward had left a deep impression.
Bruce Wayne.
The heir to one of Gotham's most powerful families.
A man worth hundreds of millions of dollars who possessed no superpowers whatsoever.
Yet despite the danger, Bruce Wayne had chosen to fight the corruption and crime of an entire city.
Clark had only interacted with him briefly, but the experience had shocked him.
Right now, there was no doubt.
Batman was a hero.
"But if that's true…" Clark wondered uneasily.
"What am I supposed to become?"
In Cassandra's earlier vision of the future, Batman had appeared alongside Victor.
Not beside Clark.
Against him.
Batman had helped Victor stop him.
Clark's thoughts spiraled.
Batman was a good man.
But if Batman opposed him in the future… then what did that make Clark?
Kayla's words echoed in his mind.
The prophecy.
The destroyer of worlds.
The cruel nature hidden deep in his bones.
Clark swallowed nervously.
"No… that can't be right."
An awful thought suddenly crossed his mind.
"What if… what if I spend my life watching Victor to make sure he never turns evil…"
"And somehow I'm the one who ends up becoming the villain?"
Clark shook his head violently.
Impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
"Clark?"
Victor noticed the strange motion and reached over to tap his shoulder.
"Don't tell me you're still thinking about Rickman."
"No, Rickman…" Clark hesitated.
Then he lowered his voice.
"Actually, Chloe showed me something yesterday."
He glanced toward Chloe and Pete sitting farther down the bus before continuing quietly.
"There was a news report about a man named Paul."
Paul was the director of the Metropolitan Environmental Protection Center. He was known as a strict and honest official who refused bribes and fought corruption relentlessly.
Despite his position, he still lived with his family in a cheap apartment in Metropolis.
"People respected him," Clark said seriously. "He was the kind of person who actually cared about public health."
But one morning, Paul had visited Rickman's factory to question him about pollution.
Not long afterward, Paul jumped off a building.
"The report included photos from the scene," Clark continued quietly. "His wife and young children were crying beside the body."
Clark's voice grew heavier.
The image had stuck in his mind.
"Rickman used his abilities to force a good man to kill himself," Clark said. "And destroy an entire family."
And it wasn't the first time.
Rickman had been connected to several mysterious suicides over the years.
Clark had originally struggled with Victor's decision to kill Rickman without a trial.
But now he wasn't so sure Rickman had been innocent.
Clark had begun to understand something uncomfortable.
Rickman may have deserved it.
"If you ever visit someone else's house," Victor said casually, "check the soles of your shoes before you leave."
"Soles?"
Clark blinked, confused by the sudden comment.
Before he could ask further, Pete leaned over the seat excitedly.
"Hey! Did you guys check the class schedule today?"
"What about it?" Clark asked.
Pete glanced around before lowering his voice with an exaggerated grin.
"There's a new biology teacher starting today."
"So?"
"She's apparently really hot," Pete whispered. "And today's lesson is about reproduction."
He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically.
"I heard she's even going to show videos."
Chloe immediately rolled her eyes.
"Pete, can you stop acting like a baboon in mating season?"
Then she turned toward Clark.
"And you."
"I understand," Clark said quickly, his face turning red. "I completely understand."
Victor looked out the window and pretended not to know either of them.
…
Knock knock.
Inside Luthor Manor, the heavy wooden door of the office echoed softly.
"Come in," Lex Luthor said without looking up from the documents on his desk.
The door opened.
Luthor's new head of security stepped inside first, guiding a visitor into the room.
"Mr. Luthor is waiting for you inside, Manager Corot."
The tall bodyguard wore a black suit and dark sunglasses. A faint smile lingered on his face as if something pleasant had happened earlier that day.
Unfortunately, letting personal emotions leak into professional work didn't exactly inspire confidence in a security chief.
"I hope I'm not interrupting your work," the visitor said nervously.
"Not at all."
Luthor leaned back comfortably in his chair and gestured toward the seat across from him.
"Please sit down, Mr. Corot."
"Thank you, Mr. Luthor."
The middle-aged man had an honest face and slightly awkward mannerisms. As he stepped inside the magnificent office, his eyes briefly widened at the luxurious surroundings.
He sat carefully, almost as if he were afraid of damaging the expensive furniture.
Behind him, the bodyguard captain quietly closed the door.
Luthor glanced toward him for a moment.
Then a faint, mysterious smile appeared on his lips.
....
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