"The Luther Building was searched?!" Clark stood up from his desk, staring at the editor-in-chief in shock and asking, "Why???"
"It's exactly because we don't know why that I'm sending you there! You've taken enough days off, haven't you?" The editor-in-chief at The Daily Planet grumbled, "Hurry up and get to the scene to grab the headline! Now!"
Seeing the editor-in-chief's unfriendly look, Clark didn't dare say anything more. He quickly put on his coat, grabbed his camera, and ran outside. Honestly, he felt he chose the right job, enabling him to openly join the fun today.
In this series of events, if there's someone Clark hates the most, it's truly Lex Luther. Even though he knows now that all those Ancient Egyptian artifacts incidents were orchestrated by Shiller, Luther remains the person he detests the most.
You might say Shiller did it to scam money or simply to watch the world burn. At least he had a purpose, and it's kind of self-beneficial. But Lex Luther? Clark just can't figure out why Luther would target him. If the spaceship had crashed and hit the Luther Building, that might be a reason. But he clearly cleaned up all the fragments; not a scratch was left, not even on the asphalt roads. Why would Luther act against him?
And, starting off with kidnapping his mother, what kind of deep hatred is that? He's never done anything to offend him, yet Luther resorts to such self-destructive behavior, utterly nonsensical!
But, on his way to the scene, Clark couldn't just indulge in schadenfreude. He thought about it, and believed that Lex Luther also wouldn't be that incompetent.
Someone daring to break into the Luther Building proves that Luther mustn't be there. Clark is well familiar with the legal system and knows that as long as Luther stands inside the building doing nothing, he could stall for considerable time. Why did he leave at such a critical moment?
Thinking about it further, Clark concluded that this guy must be some kind of madman, able to make the wrong choice perfectly in every situation in this series of events.
Arriving at the Luther Building entrance, it was already surrounded by several layers of people. Clark arrived a bit late, couldn't squeeze to the front, and didn't dare leave the car for fear of being noticed. He sat inside the car, looking out.
But after watching for a while, he did notice something unusual. People in protective suits were constantly coming and going at the entrance, as if there was some kind of virus inside. Before long, a large box was carried out, and the truck transporting it was just a short distance from Clark.
When the box approached, Clark felt uncomfortable, as if experiencing motion sickness. He quickly rolled up the car window, but the feeling lingered, forcing him to reverse and move away.
Watching the people in protective suits placing the box into the truck and sealing the door, Clark squinted, knowing that the box likely contained the mysterious green gemstone, and this had ultimately fallen into the hands of the military.
Hold on. Clark suddenly realized: In Lois's assumption, she always presupposed that the military would easily obtain the green gemstone, never considering the possibility of Lex Luther winning. Is this guy's stupidity so universally recognized?
Clark instinctively felt something was off. Lex Luther couldn't be dumb enough to hand over the gemstone willingly; something must have coerced him to leave at that moment.
Feeling a bit perplexed, Clark didn't linger much. He returned first to the newspaper office, submitted some photographs, fooled the editor, then stated he intended to try interviewing Luther. The editor cheerfully agreed, and Clark left.
Clark really planned to find Luther. Though he hadn't fully recovered yet, Luther no longer had the gemstone, and even if he did, that gemstone wasn't as effective as imagined. At most, it would make him dizzy for a while. Meeting Luther doesn't count as risky.
He visited Luthor Manor first, finding no trace of Luther but spotting an assistant retrieving daily supplies. Following the assistant led him to the Metropolitan Hospital, making him realize: Luther must be injured, hospitalized, forced to leave his stronghold.
As night deepened, most doctors and nurses were finishing their shifts, the hospital quieting. Clark circled to the hospital's rear entrance, carefully used his Super Hearing to identify, then discreetly flew to the fourth floor, landing on a windowsill.
He didn't enter the ward directly but went to the attending doctor's office on this floor. The office was empty, allowing him to search freely. Luther, having the best medical care, stayed in the most luxurious single room, and Clark quickly found his medical record without much effort.
"Fracture of the right foot's big toe metatarsal?"
Clark thought he might have misunderstood medical terms, even checked definitions on his phone, confirming it meant a fracture of the right big toe.
Clark was bewildered. He imagined various severe injuries, like being ambushed leading to major bleeding, shot by a sniper, or poisoned; at worst being drugged. But a toe fracture? Did the military travel miles, infiltrating his office, then stomp on him?
Clark continued scanning the records and found the "patient's statement" section. What does "fractured right foot big toe due to kicking a desk corner while overly enraged during a phone call" mean?
Clark swore he really didn't mean to laugh, but he really couldn't hold it in. He had to recall all the sad moments of the first half of his life to restrain himself from laughing out loud.
Taking a deep breath, Clark calmed down. He increasingly felt that Bruce was right; the irrationality caused by anger could destroy everything.
In fact, a person with poor emotional self-control, who easily loses their mind, often doesn't ruin their life in an earth-shattering way. Their most important turning points in life fail in a manner like a comedy starring Mr. Bean, always trying to discover every possible mishap in life, and sabotaging everything in a way that seems absurd to others, not only constantly failing but constantly making a fool of themselves.
Clark seemed to see his past self. When he was overwhelmed by anger, he looked like a dumb ox, wanting to charge at just anyone he encountered. The fact that Bruce managed not to laugh while witnessing the whole thing was indeed a testament to his remarkable quality.
Clark steadied his mind, didn't put down the medical record, and with it in hand, walked into Lex Luthor's hospital room. Yes, he had already heard Luther's low groans of pain, and you might think kicking a desk corner and hitting a thumb is funny, but it can indeed hurt more than other serious injuries.
Clark pushed open the door but didn't walk in, merely leaned against the doorframe, and coughed lightly. Already unable to sleep due to pain, Lex turned his head, thinking he had set the pain pump too high and was seeing an illusion.
Clark walked in, sat beside him, tossed the medical record to the side, making a crisp sound of "pa," cleared his throat, and read in a news report-like standard broadcast voice:
"Patient name: Alexander Luther. Patient age... Forget it, let's skip this part. Ahem, patient self-report: This afternoon, during a phone call, got excessively angry and kicked the office desk, ultimately resulting in the injured right toe..."
"Shut up!!! You damned bastard!!! Shut up!!!!"
A pillow flew over but obviously couldn't hurt Clark, and Clark didn't continue reading. He set the medical record aside, poured himself a cup of water, then said, "You should feel lucky. You sent yourself to the hospital in such a stupid way that if I were to hold it against you now, it would seem too much like bullying a fool. My mother warned me not to do that."
"If you weren't lying here, looking utterly pathetic, in a state where even in my poorest days I'd want to donate to you, I would make you pay the most painful price for what you've done."
Clark's blue eyes did not appear dim in the darkness; instead, they seemed brighter. His entire eyeball was like it was covered with a thin layer of ice, refracting light in all directions, reminiscent of snowfields and glaciers.
He stared at Luther, observing every subtle expression, then discovered that Lex Luthor's face first showed a brief moment of fear, proving he wasn't an ignorant madman; he knew how dangerous it was to kidnap a super alien's mother.
Immediately afterward, this fear transformed into a sense of despair. For the first time, Clark saw something directly illustrating "helplessness"—first came a momentary blank look in the eyes, then a stiff expression, like the expression management system had crashed; once he realized it, his lips involuntarily wriggled, pulling at the jaw and neck muscles, eyes subconsciously darting left and right, finally returning to that confused demeanor.
Then, as scattered awareness began to rally, facial muscles began to twitch, all muscles tensed, exerting force inward, making the facial expression look particularly grotesque before morphing into the angry state commonly exhibited by people.
"Make me pay?! You damned hillbilly!! Who do you think you are?! Do you think no one can deal with you?! I should have killed you before!!!"
Clark watched Luther's forehead and neck veins bulge, his body slightly twitching, appearing exceedingly furious.
Even as he was being cursed, Clark didn't feel angry; he only felt somewhat cold because he clearly saw how anger could destroy a person.
Lex's rationality should know that if Clark could find his way here, it proves he had regained some of his strength; even if it was just a tenth, he could easily crush him. But he seemed to have completely forgotten this fact.
This brief surge of anger could even overshadow fear and the will to survive, like some baseline code etched into human genes, prompting them to make one last struggle when facing an entirely unbeatable enemy, seeming less like a mere emotion and more like an instinct.
Clark suddenly somewhat understood why Lex Luthor was so targeted at him, because Clark Kent was a challenge he could never resolve in his life.
Before this, Lex Luthor was a peerless genius, incidentally enjoying a great family background, providing him with a broad stage; rarely was there anything in the world he couldn't solve, he considered himself in control of the world, controlling everything.
But then, Clark Kent appeared. This made the peerless genius discover there were things he couldn't cope with, and just like Clark previously, he fell into helplessness; the more helpless, the angrier, the more irrational, then caused his failure in a manner that could only be described as absurd.
Clark sighed, lost the mood to argue with Lex Luthor, said nothing, and walked toward the window.
After flying out the window, he returned to the night sky of Metropolis, his strong body disappearing at the skyline, appearing very small like a bird, like a snowflake.