Chloe and Pete were struck by the glamorous scene as they entered the ballroom for the dance.
The girls were adorned in delicate lace, chiffon, or silk dresses, the soft rustling of fabric accompanying their movements. Long gowns, high heels, dazzling white evening dresses, decorative belts, and polished black leather shoes created a vibrant and colorful display.
"Chloe, I only know how to dance the Jitterbug. Do you think anyone will boo me?" Pete asked nervously, dressed in his formal suit.
"What's the Jitterbug?"
"My grandpa taught me. It's a dance with a lot of arm-crossing and classic Cossack moves. It's so wild that you can easily fall."
Pete glanced towards the dance floor while casually explaining to Chloe.
"Whatever. I think your goofy dance will be just another thing for them to make fun of, like visible bra straps or teenage acne," Chloe retorted absentmindedly.
"Clark and Eric aren't here?"
After scanning the hall, Chloe frowned and asked Pete.
"Maybe he's waiting outside for Eric, since he's worried Eric might do something."
"Let's go find them."
Chloe immediately pulled Pete towards the exit.
"Alright, but this might ruin my dance. You'll owe me for this," Pete grumbled, grabbing a small party favor—a packet of mixed nuts—from a table as they left.
In the gymnasium not far from the dance hall, Eric stood in the middle of the basketball court.
Moonlight streamed in through the windows, creating a stark contrast of light and shadow on the floor.
"Clark, come out. You've been following me just to stop me from going to the dance, right?" Eric's voice echoed as a sudden gust of wind blew through the gym.
Clark appeared behind Eric, his expression unusually serious, ready to use force to stop him.
"Eric, I won't let you hurt anyone anymore!" Clark's fists clenched tightly. "You need help."
Eric turned to face Clark, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Alright, Clark, how are you going to help me?"
"Come home and tell me everything. Mom, Dad, and I can help you."
Although Clark believed Eric was involved in Dan Brown's death, he had no intention of turning his brother over to the authorities. He felt there might be more to the story than he knew.
"You know, Clark, you've never been the one to persuade me," Eric sighed, feigning helplessness.
Chloe's earlier assessment—that Eric was luring Clark into a confrontation—wasn't entirely wrong.
Eric's "Homelander template" was already 70% unlocked, but he couldn't progress further without facing a powerful enemy or an insurmountable danger to push his body to its limits.
While Clark's potential as a Kryptonian surpassed his own, most of his abilities were still undeveloped. In a fair fight, Clark wouldn't stand a chance.
If Clark, driven by the belief that Eric was the killer, fought with his full potential, it might create enough of a challenge.
Moreover, if a "god among men" like Clark caused irreversible damage due to his own prejudices and anger, could he still be considered a "god"?
Eric, with a twisted sense of amusement, wanted to see how his "big brother" would cope with his first "unbearable pain."
As for the deaths of those football team jerks, he didn't care at all.
"Clark, you think I'm the killer because you're biased," Eric raised his voice, his tone theatrical. "You smell something bad on me, see me as someone who doesn't care about life, and know I had conflicts with the football team. So, I'm the killer!"
"Your anger and prejudice make you overlook the real, deadly problems."
"If you want to protect and show compassion, you need to be smarter!"
Boom!
A punch cut through the air, producing a sharp, explosive sound.
The air around them seemed to tear apart.
Clark hadn't expected Eric to attack suddenly. Caught off guard, he couldn't react in time and took a hit to the chest.
"Ugh!"
With a groan, Clark flew backward.
He hit the wall hard, causing it to crack like a spiderweb.
Dust and debris fell as Clark slid down the wall, clutching his chest.
Eric's super speed kicked in, and he aimed another punch at Clark's jaw.
The blow was lightning fast.
Clark managed to block with his arm, using the recoil to move backward, dodging the attack with a speed matching Eric's.
Eric's relentless assault continued like a torrential downpour, targeting Clark's abdomen with a powerful high kick.
Even if their speeds and strengths were equal, Eric's relentless training and combat skills gave him the upper hand.
Clark, newly awakened, was still slower and weaker than Eric.
Boom!
This time, Clark didn't dodge. Facing Eric's close combat, he chose to take it head-on.
Gritting his teeth, he extended his arm. The moment they made contact, he felt a massive, wave-like force crashing into him.
The overwhelming power, like a towering wave, surged through Clark's body.
As their fists collided, the air around them seemed to scream in pain. Clark was thrown back again.
With a loud clang, he crashed into the basketball hoop.
The metal structure, designed to be incredibly sturdy, bent and deformed under the impact, creating a 90-degree bend.
Clark fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
"Ugh!"
Lying on the floor, Clark groaned in pain.
His vision blurred, and every muscle in his body ached.
In an unnoticed corner, Chloe and Pete, peering through the gym window, were utterly shocked.
What was this?
Such attacks, too fast for the eye to follow, each causing the air to tremble, the clash of flesh and metal...
This was beyond human capability!
Were all the Kents this freakishly powerful?
Especially Eric, who, despite not looking as strong as his brother, was completely overpowering Clark!
Experiencing such superhuman combat for the first time, the duo was paralyzed with fear.
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