Chereads / Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics / Chapter 648 - Chapter 439 Prelude to the Cold Wind (Part 1)_1

Chapter 648 - Chapter 439 Prelude to the Cold Wind (Part 1)_1

In the hallway of the manor, Lex was moving around in the dark alone, tool kit in hand, which he had just rummaged from the basement warehouse. He knew he could not let Lionel's body linger in the bathroom, he needed to dispose of it.

Up the stairs and down a small corridor, while ignoring the occasional shots and screams from the crowd below, he made his way to the former guest room, which was now nothing more than scorched walls and scattered glass.

Lex frowned; he still had an unresolved question. If Clark had superhuman abilities from birth, why did he seem so weak upon his first appearance?

While mulling over this question, he entered the bathroom, where he had previously dragged Lionel's body. Now, the once feared businessman, who had successfully navigated the business world for half his life, no longer differed from others post-mortem, his body leaning idly against the toilet.

Alex crouched down, looking at Lionel's face, a faint pain coursed through his wounds. He raised the back of his shirt, and as his fingers barely touched the muscle on his lower back, a faint sting reminded him of his injury.

Lionel had always been violent toward Lex. Whenever his business was not going well, or if someone upset him, he would impulsively take his frustrations out on Lex. Even today, Lionel had once again faced Shiller, and in his anger, took it out on Lex's back, leaving more scars.

Lex spoke in a low voice, "You know? The hardest part isn't pretending to be dumb and naive, but making a pain-stricken face when you hit me..."

"In fact, I don't hurt. That magical liquid seems to reduce my sensation of pain and enhances my self-healing power."

While talking to himself, Lex took a saw out of the toolbox and began to dispose of Lionel's body.

Just as he had removed an arm, the phone in the guest room suddenly rang. Lex furrowed his brow and looked towards the bathroom door.

He dropped the saw, got up, and walked to the guest room, ignoring the blood on his pants. He realized that the wall-mounted phone on the wall had not been affected, and the phone was ringing incessantly.

He reached out, picked up the phone, and held it to his ear. He heard giggling from the other end, a stranger's voice came from the phone, saying:

"Hello Lex Luther, I am a comedian, have you watched any comedies?"

"Who are you? Why do you know I'm here?"

"That's not important, Lex. Don't worry about the minor details. You see, I'm a joker who's just moved from Gotham. I intend to gain fame for my comedy show, and I've set your place as the first tour stop. Would you like to buy a ticket?"

"No." Lex denied, then hung up the phone. But just as he was about to make this action, he heard the voice on the line say:

"So it seems you want to be part of the show. Excellent, a superb comedy always needs a few supporting characters."

"By the way, do you know where I am right now? Lower your head. Look down. Hahahahahahaha!"

Instinctively, Lex cast his gaze downward. As his sightline passed through multiple layers of floors and ceilings, it continued downward, deep into the underground mansion of the mayor's residence.

This was a control room, utterly out of place within the style of the aged manor. Numerous advanced electronic devices blinked their cold, luminous glimmers, tracing along the reflections on the floor and leading the way towards an airsealed gateway. Appearing before him, the wall was filled with an array of chaotic screens.

In the midst of the room surrounded by screens, a chair turned to reveal a man in a dark, lengthy suit, his face painted as the Joker, laughing maniacally.

With one leg crossed over the other, holding the telephone in his hand, he said, "Honestly, it's much cooler down here than above ground. I'll be preparing for the next performance in peace. When I need you to join, I'll give you a call."

A barrage of hysterical laughter streamed from the phone, and Lex held the phone before him, eyebrows furrowed deeply.

Someone had anticipated and already descended into the mansion's underground? Lex thought, puzzled. That's not right, how did this so-called comedian gather this information? How did he find the entrance? How did he manage to get in without the key?

After some consideration, he placed the phone to his ear again and dialed a number. As the other party answered, he said, "Hello? Bruce?"

Bruce's voice was somewhat winded, sounding as if he had just been exercising. His voice was kept low as if avoiding the detection of others. He said, "What's up?"

"Do you remember if there were any comedians on the guest list for the banquet?"

Bruce furrowed his brows, an ominous premonition creeping over him. Then, he heard Lex say, "I just received a call, a man who dubbed himself as Joker and a comedian seems to have made his way into the basement of the mansion ahead of time. I fear there may be surveillance equipment that can monitor our situation."

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