Under an umbrella on Santa Monica Beach in Los Angeles, Shiller picked up a coconut, took a sip of the coconut water, and then shook his head, saying, "This coconut isn't even as good as the ones on the island..."
"These are commercially grown fast producing coconut trees, not even native to Los Angeles, so the taste won't be good." Hal replied as he lay back in his lounge chair holding a coconut.
Lying on the beach, feeling the ocean breeze and watching the waves were truly relaxing, but after a short while, Shiller stood up and said, "An old friend invited me for dinner, do you want to come?"
"No thanks, I'm waiting for tonight's beach party's. The beach parties in Los Angeles are really famous; don't you want to stay?"
"I have no interest in that noisy pop music." Having said that, Shiller got up and left. After finishing his coconut, he tossed it into the trash bin and drove off to a family-style seafood restaurant in Santa Monica.
Upon entering the restaurant, he gave the reservation number and was warmly welcomed by the staff to his table. After a while waiting, another figure walked in.
Clark took off his backpack and sat on the seat across, saying, "I'm sorry, Professor, I'm a bit late."
"It doesn't matter, let's order." Shiller finished and waved at the waiter. After receiving the menu, they ordered quite a few signature seafood dishes from Los Angeles.
"I apologize, Professor. I shouldn't intrude on your holiday, but I have some trouble...um, if you don't want to listen that's fine, just think of it as me taking a trip." Clark glanced around the restaurant, which was decorated in a distinctive West Coast style, something he had never seen before.
And when the dishes were served, he was captivated by the delicious aroma. Clark sniffed and saw Shiller picking up his cutlery. Only then did he pick up the utensils and started preparing to have his meal.
"Your visit is somewhat of a surprise to me. After all, isn't it the track and field team's training season? Don't you need to train?" Shiller asked as he peeled the shrimp on his plate with his fork and proceeded to eat.
"I was in training, but suddenly a group of strange people came to me. They said they hoped I could help solve a crisis and save America." Clark sighed with a look of worry on his face, "I thought they were scams, so I angrily drove them away. It turns out they were actually from the CIA."
"I did accidentally hurt them the first time, so I'm a bit sorry. Hence, when they invited me for dinner, I agreed. They had booked a fancy restaurant, and it left me a bit crestfallen. That was the most distressing meal I've ever had..." Clark's eyes were filled with conflict, almost all of his emotions were written all over his face.
Admittedly, Shiller really liked this kind of patients. He didn't have to say much, nor did he need to ask anything. Clark would tell everything clearly, even his thought processes.
"During the dinner, they mentioned the massacre that happened in a Mexican village..." Clark's anger rose in his eyes as he mentioned this, he said, "After reading the previous reports and seeing those photos, I became really angry. I can't understand how there can be such cruel people."
"At the same time, I feel for those slaughtered villagers and I really want to help them. The CIA came to me and told me they had found the culprits behind the massacre, but they couldn't handle them as they are too cunning..." Clarke's expression began to twist, seemingly finding the CIA's words preposterous.
"They said that only I could deal with that group of wicked hangmen. They want me to go to Mexico and save the villagers who might be slaughtered, as well as the entirety of Mexico and America..."
Clark took a deep breath and said, "Bat Cat told me, their words were utter nonsense, he said the logic of these CIA agents is all messed up, they can't even lie convincingly, but..."
With somewhat downcast eyes, Clark repeated the actions of cutting his food, "Fine, I know, I'm nowhere as smart as Bat Cat. When they talked to me about this, I was more concerned about those innocent villagers."
"I know they want to use my powers, and they may even have some wicked intents. The most rational thing would be to ignore them completely, but I just can't... I feel like if I do that, it would make me seem too heartless." Clark no longer had an appetite. He put down his cutlery and stared at the seafood feast on the table without the slightest desire to eat. Just a few minutes earlier he was quite hungry.
Observing Clark, Shiller reckoned that his overly high moral standards weren't solely due to his upbringing. It also had something to do with him himself.
He wants to help anyone he can. If he fails to do so, he feels guilty. But even Superman only has 24 hours in a day, and he's not omniscient, so there will always be areas where he can't help.
The people he didn't manage to help might not even know of Superman's existence, so they wouldn't hold a grudge against Clark. But Clark would always unprovokedly imagine that due to his negligence and omission, they would face even bigger tragedies.