Chapter 439: Metropolis Clouds (20)

"Then, what do you think of their attitude toward them?"

Clark pursed his lips, lowered his head, and spoke in a subdued tone: "There are many athlete students at Metropolis University, and about half of the track team are professional athletes."

"Their training is extremely grueling—almost no days off throughout the 365-day year, with high intensity and long hours, and they're prone to injuries."

"Before, the senior who introduced me to the club told me this path is not an easy one—it's almost trading away your lifespan for results."

"Some train hard for years, only to miss major competitions due to injury or illness; once they miss it, they'll never get another chance, and must return to their hometowns to become sports teachers or switch careers entirely."

"I'm not an athlete, and I have no professional sports background, yet I can easily run far better times than they can. My coach praises me for having talent, calling me a genius—but I always feel guilty."

"Because I'm not relying on effort, not even on talent—I'm completely different from them. They think this level of performance is already extraordinary, but in truth, I've been deliberately holding back my strength. I could do far more than this."

"The way they look at me—there's jealousy, admiration, some anger and malice—but I understand it all. If I were in their place, I might not be able to control my own mindset either."

"Do you know? When the coach asked me to enter the long-distance race, and I immediately refused without hesitation, everyone's eyes changed."

"For them, this is an opportunity they must fight for and sacrifice everything to earn—and I turned it down."

"But I can't explain it—I can't just fly into the air and shout to everyone, 'Look, I'm a freak'..."

Clark's emotions grew agitated; clearly, these words had been bottled up inside him for a long time. He spoke as if venting: "They don't know I've faced plenty of hardships myself. I'm not someone who reaps rewards without effort and pretends to be above it all—but..."

Schiller watched Clark with his gaze. When Clark noticed, his voice faded, and he looked into Schiller's eyes, waiting for him to speak.

"I understand everything you've said," Schiller turned a page of the medical file and continued: "You're different from ordinary people—you possess abilities beyond theirs. When you accidentally revealed those abilities, you rose to a very high position within ordinary society."

"Those in the same field must exert far greater effort just to barely reach your level—and some may never reach it in their entire lives. You feel this is unfair to them."

"Yet you also feel wronged by their hostility toward you, because it's not something you can control. Though you have abilities beyond the norm, you have your own troubles. You believe they won't understand you—they'll only see you as a bastard who doesn't appreciate his talent."

"You can't openly reveal your special abilities—perhaps to protect yourself, perhaps to protect your family—and this traps the entire situation in a vicious cycle where no one gains any positive emotion from it."

Clark nodded, acknowledging Schiller's summary. He seemed to have more to say, but considering Schiller's position, he decided to swallow those murmurs back down.

"Can I ask you a few questions?" Schiller looked directly into Clark's eyes.

Clark nodded, and Schiller asked:

"When you first discovered you had abilities beyond ordinary humans, was your first reaction joy or fear?"

"Fear," Clark answered quickly, without hesitation: "When I first realized how incredibly strong I was, I was terrified—I thought I had a terminal illness!"

"How old were you then?"

"Uh... I don't quite remember, but probably under ten? I think I discovered it while helping my father move hay bales into the barn."

"Though your mind wasn't mature then, it still shows that before that, you lived in a relatively simple human social environment."

"Yes. Back then, our town didn't even have comic books. My only reading material was the newspaper delivered once a week—it only covered news from Metropolis."

"When you first used this power to gain an advantage, did you feel ecstatic or proud?"

Clark thought hard, then shook his head: "I remember—I helped my father push his tractor out of a mud pit. I was a little happy, but nowhere near ecstatic."

Schiller didn't continue immediately. Instead, he asked: "If you were certain this power could let you rule the world, would you do it?"

Clark shook his head, puzzled: "Why would I want to rule the world?"

"Have you never fantasized about using your special abilities to gain the highest status, power, and wealth?"

Clark thought carefully, then said: "My mother always told me that people who want to rule the world are evil—they drag countless innocent people into wars to fulfill their wicked plans. I have no fondness for such people, and I don't want to become one."

Schiller rubbed his forehead, glanced at certain data recorded in the medical file, sighed, and asked his final question:

"Do you see yourself as a god who came to Earth to do good—or as just a good person who happens to have superpowers?"

"I..." Clark hesitated at this question.

The lamp's light fell on his profile, making his features more defined, his eyes deeper, the glint on his lashes like starlight fallen into the sea—now trembling slightly as his thoughts churned.

"Enough. You don't need to answer these questions right now. You have a very long time to think about them slowly."

"Or rather, reflecting on these questions each time you make a decision will help you establish a stable sense of self."

Schiller closed the medical file and said: "Psychotherapy isn't me asking questions and you answering—it's that the questions themselves are my answer, a perspective I offer you."

"I prefer to encourage patients to find their own answers within their own thinking, rather than impose a mindset upon them."

"Then what about you, Professor? If I asked you these same questions, how would you answer?" Clark quickly grasped the core of the matter.

Schiller raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by Clark's reaction. He stroked his chin: "I didn't expect you'd be quite suited to studying psychology."

Hearing this, Clark's mood finally lifted a little. He said: "I already told you—I'm genuinely interested in psychology. I find observing people's behavior and guessing their thoughts fascinating."

"So..." Clark looked at Schiller, waiting for his answer.

"The society we live in was built by ordinary people. The reason ordinary people built this society is complex, but one key reason is that individual capabilities are limited—they must cooperate to survive in a wild, uncivilized world."

"Thus, during the formation of society, people were assigned different social roles based on their unique strengths."

"But reverse this theory: humans are not omniscient or omnipotent because individual strength is weak—so we divide labor to increase efficiency and survive."

"If humans didn't need to eat or sleep, or if they could be as strong as you, fly at will, or possess infinite wisdom, then every individual could handle any job. Survival would no longer be an issue—and society might look entirely different."

"You feel out of place in this society because it was built by beings weaker than you. Every structure here exists within their imagination—and their imagination is rooted in their own limited abilities."

"Feeling out of place is completely normal. Imagine forcing a human to live in a wild animal society—they'd feel just as alienated."

"If you lived in a society built by beings stronger than you, you'd consider sacrificing certain traits of yours perfectly natural."

"For example, a disadvantaged group in society might willingly abandon their dreams to take on more practical jobs—even if they hate them."

"But your situation is reversed: every being in this society is weaker than you. When you're in a position of strength, you instinctively feel such sacrifice doesn't apply to you—I'm this strong, so I should have everything. But in reality, that's impossible."

"Above or below the standard line, if you want to integrate into ordinary society, you must always sacrifice something."

"So when I use my special abilities to gain an advantage, I don't feel ecstatic. Why? Because using these abilities inherently places you above the standard line—and every benefit you gain comes at the cost of something else."

"The benefits are obvious, but the costs are harder to see—until, slowly, they pile up into a result that's deeply unsatisfying."

"So every time I use this ability, I'm fully aware it's an exchange. I don't feel proud of it."

"Zweig said: 'All gifts fate bestows have already been priced in secret.'"

Clark thought as he spoke: "So... the cost of my advantage in long-distance races is the change in people's attitudes toward me."

Clark frowned: "But I didn't need to gain an advantage in those races. I didn't gain any benefit from them."

"That's because you're not someone who chases fame or fortune. Imagine someone who does—run a few laps and become world champion, reaping both glory and wealth, basking in the crowd's cheers. To them, isn't that the perfect gift?"

"That's true," Clark nodded. He thought again, then added: "So... before using my powers to do something, I should consider what benefit I'll gain and what I'll have to sacrifice?"

"What do you want most?" Schiller asked another deeply philosophical question.

"I..." Clark hesitated. The question was too broad for anyone. He said: "I don't know about the future, but right now, I just want to go home and eat the pie my mom makes, chat with my dad, or help out on the farm—anything to relax."

Clark was quick to grasp the implication. He continued: "Hmm... I could actually do all that right now—fly out this window and head straight home."

"No, I can't. I can't explain to those two weird guys how I disappeared. I feel if they start watching me, something bad might happen."

"Also, the school has rules—tonight they might do room checks. I don't want to get marked down. And if my parents found out I'd left campus, they'd be furious."

Clark immediately shook his head: "No, better not. It's fine to go back a little later—the holiday's still long."

After saying this, he froze in place, thinking, then said: "My god—I feel like things are becoming clear now."

"Before, I agonized over this—I thought, the blizzard wasn't my fault. Using my powers to go home for a bit wouldn't hurt."

"But now I think—compared to the consequences, I can wait a little longer."