"I can responsibly inform you that someone discovered the body of Old Luthor in the guest room bathroom. He's dead and he was brutally dismembered."
"Poor Little Luthor lost his father, and oh, the poor Luther Group has lost its leader."
As the Joker finished speaking, the atmosphere in the mansion congealed. Everything quietened down, leaving only the howling of the wind and snow outside the window.
From the surveillance room, Batman could see the people who just pressed the buttons freeze in front of their phones. Some reached out their hands again, seemingly hesitating whether or not to change their choice.
Among them, a man who was over fifty with graying hair at his temples, stood with his hand on his hip, and the other holding a phone. He confidently exclaimed:
"The Luther Group is finished! I'm sure the entire Luther Group relied solely on Luthor. But he got what he deserved. He held onto power while he was alive, but his son is an idiot and now he's gone!"
Many others shared his thoughts. They were all old foxes who had battled in the business world all their lives. They knew the Luther Group inside out, understanding that the entire group was entirely under Lionel Luther's control.
From their understanding, if Old Luthor died and didn't have a successor, the group would definitely be doomed.
Shortly after, many people thought that the only legitimate heir to the Luther Group was hanging on the rooftop. With a push of a button, he could be blown to bits.
If he died, the Luther Group would lose any chance of turning things around. Some who were close with Luthor could seize the opportunity to take over, but just the market share the Luther Group left behind would be enough to sustain many people.
However, many were still hesitant because they felt Lex had no real threat. What could a loner who'd barely learned to talk do, even if he did survive? Could he handle business? Could he turn the tide when the leader of the Luther Group suddenly died?
These insiders knew that even under normal mental conditions, accomplishing these tasks would be difficult.
Batman noticed several yellow dots appear amidst the blue. He looked closely at the yellow-flashing rooms. The occupants seemed to be dealers, recalling conflicts between the Luther Group and some farm product and seed dealers on the East Coast, it was not unexpected.
But Batman knew, Joker wouldn't let Lex off so easily. Sure enough, his voice rang out again:
"I know you are all curious about the cause of Old Luthor's death. Unfortunately, I have to inform you all that he was killed by Lex Luthor."
"Little Luthor isn't an autistic patient at all. Not only is he intellectually and mentally normal, but he also possesses unparalleled wisdom. He designed a complex trap to kill his father and dismember him."
At this moment, Clark suspended in mid-air finally spoke up, "That's not what happened, Lex, he..."
He even wanted to explain for Lex. His voice was loud enough to reach the guestrooms of the residents, but no one wanted to hear him talk.
After the Joker cited a few examples of Lex's intelligence, the blue glow on Batman's face turned yellow. Many people changed their minds and pressed the other button.
"He hurt his own father? He's insane! This murderer should die."
"No, he's too smart. If he survives and leaves here, the Luther Group may not necessarily disband, which would affect my business…"
"Damn Luthors should all die!"
"I always knew it, I always knew there were no decent people in that family! If the cops won't arrest you, then you'd better die!"
At this point, the Joker put the other mobile phone to his ear. He listened to what the person on the other end was saying, then exclaimed:
"Alright! It seems that the majority of people have changed their choice. They chose——Lex Luther!"
"No!!" Clark shouted. His face showed agony, panting heavily, using every bit of his remaining strength to struggle, yelling desperately:
"That scumbag was abusing him all along! He was constantly battered, made to fake autism to control him, moreover, Lex didn't do it on purpose. He's a victim too…"
Clark did his best to try and vindicate Lex. Reflected in the floor tiles, he could see Lex seemed to have reached his limit.
Blood seeped again from the wound on Lex's neck, filling the air with a strong, metallic smell. His head drooped, his face pale, lips purpling, barely able to even speak, even breathing was becoming feeble.
At the end of the day, Lex was just a teenager. During the time he was controlled by Lionel, he didn't have the chance to exercise or strengthen his body. On the contrary, the drugs that Luthor used on him had a negative effect on his body, making him weaker than most.
No matter how brilliant his mind, it still needed blood supply. It was clear that his blood flow and pressure were not optimistic, and he was on the verge of unconsciousness.
"Look, Clark Kent! I told you he's such a saint!"