Chapter 441: The Clouds Over Metropolis (22)

On the fourth floor of the estate—the floor where Bruce and Selina had their guest room—the dark hallway held Bruce dragging the still-unconscious Benjamin down the stairs, while Selina stood ahead keeping watch.

Benjamin, as the chief overseer of all agents on the estate, had vanished for most of the night, raising the vigilance of every agent; had it not been for Benjamin's past habit of carrying out covert missions alone without notifying subordinates—something the agents knew well—they would have already begun a full-scale search of the estate.

But this gave Bruce the chance to interrogate Benjamin; he and Selina moved him to a storage room on the third floor. As Bruce dragged him inside, Selina stood at the door, one hand braced against it, saying: "Hurry up."

She glanced toward the window at the far end of the hallway, where faint lights flickered—as if someone were walking with a flashlight—and turned back to Bruce: "That explosion in the parlor was too loud. They'll start searching from there."

She glanced again at her watch: "It takes six to seven minutes to walk from the parlor to our bedroom. Even if they delay searching, they won't take more than twenty minutes to find us."

Selina's frown deepened. "Forget it. I'll make some noise over there to buy you time. Get it done fast."

She turned and left. Bruce shut the storage room door and began trying to wake Benjamin.

There was none of that sentimental, lingering farewell scene you see in movies where couples split up—Bruce knew full well that Selina, even if she couldn't win, could certainly escape.

On the other side, Lex had just stepped out of Shiler's room; the professor had clearly stated he only wanted to sleep. What could Lex say? He wished him sweet dreams.

Now he was heading upstairs, planning to find Clark.

He had noticed Clark's odd behavior earlier. Of course he was curious—he could tell Bruce was too, trying to figure out who Clark really was. Lex wanted to solve this before Bruce did, to prove he was stronger.

When the knock came, Clark was still half-asleep; he'd only slept a little, his mind foggy—but soon the drowsiness vanished, replaced by a long-missed sense of calm.

In good spirits, Clark didn't mind Lex's intrusion. He opened the door, let him in, pulled out a chair, and said: "Hello. I've already introduced myself. Now it's your turn."

Lex let out a cold snort. "I don't even need to talk to you to know we won't get along. You're just a dumb redneck hillbilly who only knows how to grin."

"How can you say that? If you weren't already not a student at Metropolis University, they'd expel you for personal attacks."

"Are you a student at Metropolis University? What's your major?" Lex immediately started interrogating him.

He sensed something strange about Clark—an aura he'd never felt in anyone else: a divine compassion.

That aura felt unnatural to him, because he realized he himself was being included in that compassion.

How ridiculous. When had he ever needed someone's pity? Especially from a clueless fool who clearly understood nothing.

Yet that feeling clung to him, prickling his skin, stirring a quiet anger that darkened his expression.

Clark noticed Lex's oddness. He spread his hands. "We're probably about the same age. What university are you from? Or are you still in high school?"

That struck Lex right where it hurt. Bruce had mentioned his time at Gotham University, and now Clark was talking about Metropolis University—so among the three of them, only he had never attended college.

Lex told himself he shouldn't feel anything over this—but every time he imagined Bruce and Clark getting along better, a strange unease rose in him.

On one hand, he thought: How could Bruce, whose intellect matched his own, possibly connect better with this idiot? On the other, he feared: If I've already taken the initiative but still fall behind, I'll be utterly humiliated.

Clark could sense heartbeats and pulses. Through the myriad signals he perceived, he could judge a person's emotions. What puzzled him was how violently Lex's emotions fluctuated—he couldn't understand why.

He thought a moment, then asked: "Did you have an argument with your friend? The one with the black hair?"

Lex took a deep breath. He didn't understand why every one of Clark's questions cut straight to the core. He scowled. "Who are you? How did you even get here?"

"Didn't I already explain?" Clark said helplessly.

"Do you think your stupid lies will fool anyone? Let's not even mention the distance between Metropolis University and the mayor's mansion, or the heavy snowstorm outside and the depth of snow on the roads, or the absurdly appearing fire truck water tank in the garden below…"

"Clark, hasn't anyone ever told you how obvious your facial expressions are when you sense my emotions?"

Clark froze. Instinctively, he reached up and touched his cheek. He wanted to explain, but couldn't think of a good reason. After a long silence, he sighed:

"It's strange. Everyone I've met today can see my abnormalities—more than in all the years before."

Lex snorted. "You think they can't see it? If you don't believe me, try asking them seriously. They'll be mortified."

Clark scratched his head, unwilling to imagine such a scene. He shrugged. "So what? We all get along fine."

"But do you believe that if you actually flew in front of them—or lifted a car— their first reaction would be fear? Maybe even attack you?"

Lex stood up and began pacing the room. Clark crossed his arms. "No way. My friends and family won't fear me just because I'm different."

"Even strangers—when I use my abilities to help them, why would they fear me?"

Lex stopped walking and turned to look at Clark. His eyes held a coldness Clark couldn't comprehend. "Let's make a bet. Once you publicly reveal abilities beyond human limits, you'll become humanity's enemy."

"I won't," Clark said firmly. "I never wanted to be a savior, and I've never wanted to rule the world."

"Since I first awakened my abilities until now, I've never used them for harm, nor to benefit myself selfishly. On the contrary, I've helped many people…"

Lex shook his head, his voice icy. "Unregulated superpowers are poison to human society—and to you. You'll be poisoned eventually."

Clark completely rejected this idea. He shook his head. "You're a pessimist. I'm the opposite."

"My parents always told me: though being cautious with people might keep you safer, if you never open your heart to the world, the world will never accept you."

Lex stared at Clark's face. He was about to mock his naivety—but seeing the earnest, unwavering expression on Clark's face, he found himself speechless.

Clark's eyes were always clear. Looking into them, you saw no impurities, no hidden depths—you could read his thoughts instantly.

Lex had never met anyone like this. In the two years since regaining consciousness, every human he'd met had eyes clouded with secrets and desires.

Two years ago, Lex had awakened—but he'd concealed himself, waiting for a chance to kill Lionel. In those two years, he'd seen too much: people who smiled, patted his head, spoke words of sympathy, yet their eyes gleamed with cruel delight.

Behind Lex's arrogance over his intellect lay a deep pessimism toward humanity—or rather, for people like him and Bruce, intellect was both gift and curse; skepticism haunted every stage of their lives.

But now, Lex suddenly realized—he didn't entirely mock or despise Clark, this seemingly clueless, hopelessly naive fool.

He'd thought he could easily manipulate Clark, trick him into revealing everything, then revel in his intellectual superiority. Now he was locked in a serious argument with Clark—and his intellect gave him no advantage.

"What are you even here for?" Clark watched Lex's shifting expressions, confused. He felt Lex had no real purpose—after asking two questions, he'd just sat there silently.

"I just… never mind. I only came to confirm whether you pose any threat to Metropolis. This is my territory. Don't make trouble—for yourself or me…"

As soon as he finished, Lex fell silent again. He realized he sounded exactly like a junior high delinquent threatening a younger kid not to cause trouble.

He rested his elbows on the table, pressing his forehead into his palms. He realized: since entering this room, he'd been acting strangely. The details he pondered, Clark couldn't grasp. But the emotions Clark sensed, Lex had no answer for.

"You don't seem to be a student at Metropolis University," Clark studied Lex. His frame was still slender, his face youthful—he looked younger than Clark. Clark guessed he was still in high school. He asked:

SiLuKe

"You're about to take the college entrance exam, right? Which university are you planning to apply to?"

Before Lex could answer, Clark went on: "Actually, I think Metropolis University is pretty good. It's not ranked as high as the other East Coast schools, but the campus facilities and club atmosphere are great."

Lex let out a soft "pfft," as if ready to discuss higher-ranked schools—but just as they were about to continue, gunshots rang out from below, followed by a series of thunderous explosions.

Lex nearly fell off his chair. Clark was already at the door, flinging it open, rushing to the staircase, peering down—and saw Selina sprinting up, followed by a stream of agents.