Chapter 445

Someone has betrayed our location to those agents.

Bruce spoke, lifting Clark onto the bed and explaining: "Just now, both I and Lex were hunted. I rescued him first, then came for you."

Before Clark could ask, Bruce continued: "His body is weaker than yours. When I got there, he was already unconscious from their blows."

"Are these agents insane?!"

Clark asked, bewildered. Bruce replied in a low tone: "At first, they may have thought we killed Benjamin, so chasing us isn't surprising."

"But now, clearly, someone has manipulated them—a madman who excels at inciting mobs. They've turned the agents completely against us. Things are already slipping out of control."

"So they really are insane," Clark concluded.

"I…" Clark started to say he could lead them all out of here, but Bruce, as if anticipating his words, spoke in the same low voice:

"Don't you feel it? Some force is influencing this estate. Everything here has begun to feel unnatural. I'll find out what's causing this—or the anomaly might spread to the entire Metropolis."

"I've been wanting to say this," Clark hesitated, sighed, then spoke: "I feel unwell. I felt it the moment I arrived here too."

"Under what circumstances do you feel this?" Bruce frowned.

"I don't know. I've never been sick before. My body's always been healthy. I've never felt this before," Clark said, puzzled.

"That further suggests something's wrong beneath the estate," Bruce murmured, rubbing his chin. "Lex told me his father believed there's evidence of secret human experiments conducted by previous mayors underground."

"These experiments may involve radiation—that means there could be a massive radiation source below."

Clark sat up instantly. "We have to find it! We can't let it endanger Metropolis's citizens!"

"Right now, those agents see us as enemies. They're searching the entire estate. They're numerous, and each is armed."

"I'm not afraid of them. Wherever I encounter them, I can escape. But you and Lex can't. I can't abandon you—because that madman has turned the agents against you. They might kill you without hesitation."

"I… I just need to rest a little," Clark insisted, struggling to sit up. He didn't want to be a burden, but soon he realized things were worsening.

His strength was recovering—but only up to a point. After that, the recovery slowed. His biofield's range was the same. His abilities' upper limit had been temporarily weakened.

"Exactly two hours have passed since your first weakness," Bruce reasoned carefully. "I suspect the radiation underground is cyclical."

"I have a bad feeling," Clark said, his face growing serious. With regained strength, he sat up, shook his head, and fell silent—unable to explain the source of his intuition to Bruce.

At that moment, a series of sounds echoed down the hallway—like running footsteps. Bruce walked to the door, cracked it open slightly, and saw agents pouring down the stairs in groups.

"We have to leave. Do you still have strength?"

Bruce tore off the bedsheet, twisted it into a rope, entered the bathroom, and tied the knot around a pipe.

Clark hesitated, but the noise outside grew louder. As Bruce leapt out the window and landed on the lower windowsill, Clark moved to the window.

Bruce looked up at him, silently urging him—but Clark didn't grab the sheet. Instead, in Bruce's stunned gaze, he simply flew out.

Though still weak, flying out the window required little effort. He only had to descend two floors, landing smoothly. Clark turned to Bruce beside him: "Alright, I admit—I have abilities beyond normal humans."

At that moment, a window two floors above them opened. Lex's head appeared, and he tossed down a coil of rope. Bruce caught it, leapt, and landed on the side balcony, then scaled the wall upward.

Clark made a gesture where he stood, glanced left and right, confirmed no one else was nearby, then took off from the spot and flew directly into Lex's room.

Lex glanced at Clark, then at Bruce, and said: "... He really is your helicopter engine."

Bruce ignored him, walked to the center of the room, and surveyed the furnishings. The room showed no modern upgrades—it looked like a long-abandoned servant's chamber.

"You can only reach this room through a secret passage downstairs. It's hard to navigate, so it's safe for now," Lex said, gripping the windowsill and staring outside—where agents filled the estate's courtyard.

Clark stepped forward, voice urgent: "We need to act fast. Find that possible radiation source—and resolve the misunderstanding with the agents…"

Lex frowned, a flash of malice crossing his brow. "Resolve a misunderstanding? I have no misunderstandings with the dead."

"You… you want to kill them all?" Clark's eyes widened, as if hearing something unthinkable. He stammered: "This… this isn't necessary! Even if…"

"Did they hold back when they shot at you? They tried to kill me. Why shouldn't I kill them?"

Lex touched the back of his neck—still streaked with dried blood from his earlier attack.

He stepped before Clark, locking eyes with him: "Because you're strong, these ordinary people can't harm you. Of course you can pretend to be magnanimous and forgive them."

"But if Wayne hadn't arrived in time, I'd be dead. I'm only seeking revenge."

Clark stared at him, silent. He knew Lex was right—but he still recoiled at the idea of killing.

Aside from Clark, neither of the other two showed any emotion—they knew the agents were no threat. They had ways to evade them. The only real problem was the "comedian" who leaked their secrets.

At that moment, a loud "CRASH" echoed as the hidden door in the floor burst open again.

This time, the first sound wasn't footsteps—it was gunfire. Automatic weapons fired like a storm. Clark, facing away, spun around and extended his hands, freezing the bullets midair.

Bruce flung open the window: "Go!"

Bruce leapt out first. Lex followed more slowly. Finally, Clark flew out directly in front of the agents—but below them now lay no balcony. They had to leap diagonally downward.

My Healing Game

Bruce landed first, rolling as much as he could on the narrow balcony—but still struck his arm. Lex dared not jump—he knew his strength wasn't enough. If he missed, this was the sixth floor. He'd die.

Clark, however, flew straight up, then descended to grip Lex's arms from below, carrying him down. Both tumbled onto the balcony. When they rose, Lex's forehead was bleeding. Clark gasped for breath.

With his strength weakened, his flight had shifted from full 360-degree mobility to gliding. Carrying someone so heavy drained him significantly.

No one wasted time. They yanked open the balcony door and rushed in—only to find the room occupied. Bruce lunged forward, knocked the screaming woman unconscious, and dragged her into the bathroom.

When he emerged, he rolled up his sleeve. His elbow was swollen—his earlier impact had injured him badly.

"This won't work. That man must be in a control room—he can see every room, giving the agents real-time location data."

"That means we're always in pursuit, always on the run. They have pistols, even automatic weapons. We'll always be at a disadvantage."

Bruce scanned the room, searching for cameras—but the English manor's ceilings and walls were covered in ornate patterns, and every piece of furniture bore intricate carvings. It was impossible to tell where the cameras were hidden.

Yet the feeling of being watched prickled at Bruce's skin. Then Lex spoke: "We need to test: Is there delay between the camera feed and the monitor? Is there delay between the operator seeing the feed and calling the agents? Is there delay between the agents receiving the message and acting?"

"If these delays exist, they might give us a window to set traps."

"I thought the same," Bruce agreed. But he looked at Lex and Clark: "The problem is—you two are both in bad shape."

Bruce crossed his arms, staring at Lex: "To test this, we'd need to lead them on at least two laps. Your stamina might not hold out."

"And him…" Bruce turned to Clark: "Even if I assume the radiation surge happens every two hours, we lack enough data. If it surges mid-run, you'll lose mobility instantly."

"But right now, I'm stronger than both of you," Clark stepped forward. He glanced at Lex: "You lead the way. I'll carry him."

"I'm bulletproof, I can fly, I'm faster than you both, and I can sense their positions. If I weaken, leave me behind. They can't kill me."

"I don't know where you get this ridiculous confidence."

Lex stared fixedly at Clark: "Don't you see? Those agents are insane. They'll shoot anyone."

"I'm not saying they won't try to kill me. I'm saying they can't."

Clark's face was grave. His voice carried undeniable authority:

"Impact, blades, bullets, fire—any weapon in this world. If I don't want to be hurt, nothing can harm me."