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"Son, what did you use on my body yesterday?"
At the breakfast table, Jonathan, the father, was energetically eating the sandwich Martha had made. There was no trace of his appearance from yesterday when he was poisoned, close to death, and unconscious.
In fact, his body had never been better, as if he had endless strength, he thought about it with a slightly puzzled expression on his face.
"It's the Dionysian Factor."
"This Dionysian thing, is it made of metal?"
Jonathan looked puzzled, wondering if he would have trouble passing airport security with it in the future.
"Close enough."
Understanding common sense, you can't put metal in your mouth. David switched to a more acceptable explanation: "Think of it as an herbal soup."
Although the Dionysian Factor could grant eternal life and revive the dead, Jonathan's appearance hadn't changed much.
However, Ra's Al Ghul, who had lived for over seven hundred years, still looked middle-aged, and the clown in the comic with the purest Dionysian Factor didn't have the face of a seventeen or eighteen-year-old.
'Maybe the Dionysian Factor doesn't affect the host's outward appearance?'
"Herbal soup?"
Martha held a stone test tube with hesitation as she looked at the deep green liquid inside. Her son had asked her to drink this in the morning, claiming it was good for her body.
Even though she knew her son couldn't harm her, the idea of drinking metal was still hesitant. Besides, she wasn't sick, so maybe she didn't need to take medicine for now.
At the dining table, Clark seemed to be preoccupied, silently drinking the seafood soup his mother had made, not saying a word.
Yesterday, he asked his brother and Kyla what they were discussing. His brother had replied with a simple "nothing" and didn't say much more.
But in fact, he had heard everything they talked about.
'Sageeth? World destruction?'
David glanced at Clark, feeling that he seemed to be troubled by something.
He thought of Rickman, whom he had killed, could it be that Clark had thought of that when he came back home and was still struggling with it?
Yesterday, Clark had asked David about his conversation with Kyla. David thought it was just a casual question and casually replied, "Nothing."
'Being seen as a savior in a prophecy and having to say it out loud yourself can be quite embarrassing.'
And Kyla would eventually realize the error in her tribe's prophecy, and this matter would pass in due time.
At the table, after swallowing a mouthful of soup, David's eyes flickered, and he sighed softly in his heart.
This prophecy thing was just a misunderstanding. No one would like to be seen as a villain who would destroy the world in the future, which is why David didn't tell Clark about this completely meaningless and mood-dampening matter.
After finishing their meal, on the way to school.
"David, where have you been for the past two days?"
Facing the curious questions from Chloe and Pete, David shrugged.
"Because of some family matters, I went to Gotham."
"Gotham?" Chloe and Pete exchanged looks, clearly having heard of the city.
"I've heard that it's full of gangs there, and you have to be careful even walking in alleys during the day," Chloe remembered the rumors about Gotham, showing resistance on her face. She was interested in odd things, but things like gang robberies and others were a no-go.
The security there was said to be worse than Smallville's.
"It's probably a bit better now than before."
David smiled.
While Batman's appearance couldn't completely reverse Gotham's culture of crime, it did make a difference in some ways.
Criminals and thugs were afraid; wondering if suddenly Batman would appear and beat them severely, sending them to jail.
"I heard there's a masked vigilante who appeared, called Batman?"
Pete remembered the news he had seen recently.
'Batman...'
Hearing that name, Clark, who had been looking out of the window without saying a word, pursed his lips.
When he had gone to Gotham yesterday, he was too focused on finding clues to save his father, so he hadn't had time to think about other things.
But what he saw and heard in Gotham left him puzzled.
'Bruce Wayne, the heir of the long-standing Wayne family in Gotham's history, with a fortune of billions, no superpowers, facing the corrupt and dark city, and the safety of the desperate citizens, he stepped forward regardless of his safety and fought against crime.'
After brief observation and interaction, he was slightly impressed by Bruce Wayne's character.
'Without a doubt, at present, Batman is a hero.'
But if that's the case, what role does his future self play?
Clark's eyes flashed with doubts. In the visions that Mrs. Cassandra had predicted for him, there was an image of Batman.
But he and Batman stood on opposite sides, and Batman chose to side with David, helping him against himself.
Batman was good, so what kind of person would his future self be?
Thinking back to Kyla's words, the tribe's prophecy, world destruction, the potential for evil lurking in his bones... Clark swallowed nervously.
It can't be, right?
'Could it be that I've been watching David all the time to prevent him from turning bad, only to find out that I'm the one who turns evil and harms others in the future?'
Impossible, absolutely impossible!
"Clark?"
Seeing Clark shaking his head vigorously in a stunned manner, looking like he didn't want to accept something, David patted him on the back and said, "Don't tell me you're still thinking about Rickman's matter?"
"No, Rickman...," Clark snapped out of his thoughts, struggling to find words.
In fact, initially, he had been angry about what David had done to Rickman, thinking that after his brother's vigilante-style execution, he was quick to kill people. But...
"These past couple of days, Chloe showed me some news about Rickman."
Seeing Chloe and Pete on the other side of the school bus, Clark lowered his voice.
"There was a man named Paul, the head of the Metropolis Environmental Protection Center, known for never taking bribes and enforcing laws strictly. He had been fighting against corruption and criminals, and he and his family still lived in a cheap apartment in Metropolis."
"Paul, the director, was a genuinely respectable and admirable person who values people's health."
"However, after meeting Rickman one morning and asking him about factory pollution under his name, he had inexplicably committed suicide by jumping off the company building."
"There were photos attached to the news at the time. His wife and young child were kneeling beside the body covered with a blood-stained white cloth, grieving and in pain."
The scene was heartbreaking, and Clark's voice grew heavy as he recounted what happened.
"Rickman, with his abilities, killed a respected and good person, and destroyed a happy family..."
Moreover, this wasn't the first time Rickman had done something like this; there had been news stories linking his actions to other suicides before.
Regarding his brother David's vigilante actions, Clark still held reservations, but he no longer thought Rickman was innocent, not deserving of death.
"Next time you visit a stranger's house, check the soles of your shoes."
Clark should just let go of this matter. He wasn't interested in discussing a dead man with Clark, so David simply gave him a light reminder.
"Soles of my shoes?"
Clark was puzzled as to why that was suddenly brought up.
On the other side, Pete suddenly leaned in.
"Hey, did you hear? Today's classes."
"What's with the classes?" Both Clark and David were confused. Was there something different?
Looking around and making sure no one else was listening, Pete leaned in with a somewhat sly expression. (¬‿¬)
"Didn't you guys check the class schedule? There's a new female biology teacher at school, mature and beautiful. Today's class is about teaching us about understanding the sexes, I heard there will be some videos shown, you know..."
He gave them a knowing look.
"Pete, could you stop acting like a horny baboon?"
Chloe, who was adept in internet technology, looked at him with disdain.
(T/N: Someone tell me what internet technology has to do with this)
"And you guys..."
"I don't understand, really don't."
Clark coughed and blushed, quickly signaling that he didn't understand.
David's gaze drifted out of the window, pretending not to know him.
...
"Come in."
A heavy wooden door, a knocking sound, and Luthor's on-business voice sounded.
His new head of security opened the door, bringing in the person he wanted to see.
"Mr. Coro, Mr. Luthor is waiting for you inside." The man, tall and muscular, wearing a black suit and sunglasses, opened the door. He seemed to have encountered some good news today, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, unsuccessfully hiding his good mood.
It's just that he was affected by personal emotions during work, it's hard to say if such a person is qualified to be a bodyguard, let alone a head of security.
"I hope I'm not disturbing your work."
Lounging back in a comfortable leather chair, Luthor leaned back slightly and extended his hand, "Please have a seat, Mr. Coro."
"Thank you, Mr. Luthor." The middle-aged man, who looked honest and plain, seemed surprised by the luxurious facilities of the castle. He walked carefully as if afraid of breaking something, clutching the corner of his suit jacket, and took a cautious seat in front of his employer.
Glancing at the new head of security, who was closing the door with his head lowered, a mysterious smile crossed Luthor's lips.
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