Early that morning, Lex Luthor conducted a small experiment with the mysterious wishing stone he had recently obtained.
He summoned a young bodyguard named Martial from the manor's security team and asked him to step into the office. Martial was known among the guards as someone restless, the type who paced the corridors endlessly instead of standing still.
"Your performance has caught my attention," Luthor said in a calm, encouraging tone.
He spoke as if he had noticed great potential in the young man—sharp instincts, quick reactions, and the kind of awareness that made a good protector.
The implication was obvious.
Promotion.
Martial's eyes lit up with restrained excitement as he stood in front of the desk.
Luthor then reached beneath the table and casually produced the crystal wish stone, adopting the demeanor of a playful employer.
"Take this stone," Luthor said lightly. "Make a wish, Martial."
He leaned back in his chair with a faint smile.
"Who knows? Maybe it will come true."
The young bodyguard hesitated only for a moment before obeying.
Of course, Luthor had never intended to promote him.
But less than an hour later, something unexpected happened.
The current captain of the bodyguard team submitted his resignation.
He explained that his child had recently been injured in a car accident. After years of working long hours away from home, he suddenly realized how much he had neglected his family.
Now he wanted to resign and spend time with his wife and child.
Under normal circumstances, any of the other experienced guards would have been far more likely candidates for the captain's position.
But fate intervened again.
While walking through the manor courtyard that morning, Luthor had nearly been struck by a chunk of loose stone that suddenly broke off the castle wall nearly eight meters above him.
The falling debris would have hit him directly in the head.
Martial reacted first.
The young guard tackled Luthor out of the way just in time.
Without that intervention, Luthor might be lying in a hospital bed right now.
"Interesting…" Luthor thought quietly.
The results of the wish had appeared.
But he needed more proof.
"One example isn't enough," he muttered inwardly. "Not nearly enough."
Now he needed a second test.
Across the desk, the man called Corot sat stiffly in his chair.
"Mr. Luthor… why did you call me here?" he asked nervously.
Corot was the warehouse manager at one of Luthor's factories. As he sat in the luxurious office inside Luthor Manor, his mind raced anxiously.
Had he made some mistake at work?
Was there a problem with the warehouse inventory?
"Relax, Mr. Corot," Luthor said kindly.
His warm tone slowly eased the man's tension.
Luthor chatted with him casually for a few minutes, guiding the conversation in a friendly direction until Corot's shoulders finally relaxed.
Internally, however, Luthor felt no gratitude toward Martial whatsoever.
If the wish stone truly possessed power, then failing to respect its rules might lead to unpredictable consequences.
"Mr. Corot," Luthor continued with a pleasant smile, "I've been reviewing your recent work performance."
Corot straightened immediately.
"You've managed the factory warehouse extremely well," Luthor said. "Since you took over the position, there hasn't been a single case of inventory loss."
"That's just my responsibility, Mr. Luthor," Corot replied awkwardly while scratching the back of his head.
"No," Luthor said slowly.
"Hardworking and honest people deserve rewards."
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze focused on Corot.
"Whether it's a country or a company, a system without proper rewards and punishments cannot maintain loyalty."
Corot's eyes widened.
The implication was unmistakable.
A reward.
Luthor reached beneath his desk again.
This time he removed the ancient wish stone.
The yellow crystal glimmered faintly under the office lights, its brass ring etched with mysterious Latin letters.
Luthor's voice softened.
"Make a wish, Mr. Corot."
His tone carried a subtle persuasion—almost like the serpent in the Garden of Eden tempting Adam and Eve.
…
Meanwhile, at Smallville High School.
"The old biology teacher always started class by showing one of those ancient educational films," Pete said cheerfully as the school bell rang.
He practically bounced into the classroom.
"Finally we're free from that torture."
The old teacher he was referring to, Mr. Kaworski, had a reputation for starting every lesson with outdated instructional videos about human anatomy. Standing beneath the projector screen was usually the same stern woman in her sixties, wearing thick reading glasses and watching the students like a prison guard.
Under her supervision, no one dared think inappropriate thoughts.
"Who told you there's a new teacher?" Victor asked calmly.
"My dad."
Clark nearly choked on air.
"Class, please take your seats."
A confident voice echoed through the room.
"I'm your new teacher, Ms. Aikins. I'll be teaching biology, health education, and human anatomy."
Golden morning sunlight streamed through the classroom windows as the new teacher walked inside.
She was in her thirties, with a strikingly attractive face and a curvy figure emphasized by a short skirt. Without hesitation, she walked straight to the blackboard and pulled down the projector screen.
Several male students nearly stood up along with the moving hem of her skirt.
Clark swallowed nervously.
"Why does it suddenly feel so hot in here?" he muttered.
Victor glanced at him briefly.
"Summer is coming," Clark added quickly while fanning himself awkwardly. "That's normal."
Pete didn't even bother pretending.
His eyes were glued forward like his soul had been stolen.
"Look at her," he whispered. "She's practically melting in this heat."
Sweat glistened faintly on Ms. Aikins's neck as she moved around the classroom. Her full lips parted slightly while she fanned herself with one hand.
The temperature inside the room seemed to rise.
When the educational film started playing, she stepped near the window for some air.
But none of the male students were paying attention to the screen anymore.
Victor frowned slightly.
Something about this situation felt strange.
He had never been particularly interested in women with Aikins's seductive type of charm.
Yet even he felt an uncomfortable heat spreading through the room.
Clark appeared to be affected even worse.
His lips were dry, sweat rolled down his chin, and his eyes flickered restlessly between the window and the classroom curtains.
Suddenly—
Fwoosh!
The curtain beside the window burst into flames.
"Fire!"
Students screamed as the fabric ignited instantly.
Clark snapped back to reality, the strange charm evaporating in an instant.
"Everyone out!" Ms. Aikins shouted.
The students rushed out into the hallway while school staff hurried in with extinguishers to put out the fire.
Pete stared mournfully as the flames died down.
"That was the shortest biology class in history," he sighed dramatically.
Some of the boys looked equally miserable, like they had been interrupted halfway through something important.
Standing in the hallway, Victor glanced out the window at the cherry blossom trees lining the campus.
He barely paid attention to Ms. Aikins directing the firefighters.
Victor wasn't the kind of person who hunted down anyone with strange abilities.
As long as they didn't provoke him, he didn't care.
Classes ended soon afterward.
Victor, Clark, Chloe, and Pete walked toward the school gate together.
"Clark, how's your physics report coming along?"
A bright voice called out.
Lana approached them with a warm smile, her dark hair swaying as she carried a stack of books.
"It's going well," Clark replied awkwardly. "How about yours?"
The two began chatting naturally as they walked.
The atmosphere between them carried a hint of shy intimacy.
Victor blinked.
"Clark and Lana…?"
For a moment, he felt like he had skipped several episodes of a television series.
"You didn't know?" Pete said with a grin.
"While you were gone the past few days, those two got a lot closer."
He winked.
"Never underestimate a guy charging forward for love. Even a farm boy who used to turn red whenever he saw a girl can change."
Clark had lost his powers temporarily during the kryptonite incident earlier.
Now that kryptonite no longer affected him as strongly, he seemed far more confident.
Tall, handsome, and smiling warmly, Clark suddenly looked very different from the awkward boy he used to be.
Even Lana—who was used to being pursued by half the school—found it hard to resist.
Victor shook his head slightly, amused.
Clark had somehow turned the recent chaos into an unexpected romantic breakthrough.
Lana joined the group as they reached the bus. She and Clark boarded together, laughing as they continued their conversation.
At the school gate, however, another figure stood watching.
Whitney.
His expression darkened as he saw Clark and Lana talking so comfortably together.
Students passing by cast uneasy glances toward him.
Whitney's face turned pale with anger.
"Clark…"
His fists clenched tightly, veins bulging along the backs of his hands.
A strange green fluorescent tattoo glowed faintly on his wrist.
"Don't think your brother can protect you this time."
....
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