"I want to apologize for my inappropriate words earlier, Eric."
Clark, who had escaped from the ruins of the manor, brushed the dust off his tattered clothes, took a deep breath, and said to Eric with a look of shame:
"That wasn't my intention. My emotions were a bit unstable at the time. I… I don't even know what I said. If you feel hurt, I am truly sorry."
Facing his younger brother, Clark's heart was filled with more guilt and unease.
Eric's gaze remained fixed on the fleeing Owl Council assassin. Facing the apology, he said with an unchanged expression:
"No need to apologize, Clark. You did nothing wrong, and I believe you think so too. Besides, I am not the kind of person who would be hurt by a few mere words, as you suggested."
"…"
Faced with Eric's cold response, Clark felt a little dejected.
He suddenly remembered a saying: Apologizing doesn't necessarily mean you're wrong; it just means you value the relationship more than your pride.
He felt as if this saying precisely hit home.
After a moment of random thoughts, Clark forced himself to turn his attention to the matter at hand.
"Eric, do you know who these people are?"
Glancing at the Owlman lying on the ground, Clark asked Eric with a puzzled expression.
"Perhaps you should ask Lex Luthor what kind of existence he has provoked."
Eric walked up to an Owl assassin, bent down, and removed his mask.
He examined the ancient and exquisite patterns on it and said in a somewhat nonchalant tone, "You can also ask Lex Luthor's mercenary soldiers why they used rocket launchers to bomb the place before you even left the hall. And why he collects so many meteorites? Clark, you always thought you understood Lex Luthor, but it doesn't seem to be the case."
"But that's normal, isn't it? You hide your identity from Lex, and Lex hides his actions from you. You both think you understand each other, yet you both guard against and distance yourselves from each other. If that trust is ever broken, I'm afraid this fragile friendship will turn into an incredibly terrible relationship."
Thinking of Lex Luthor, who would become Superman's mortal enemy in the future, and then considering their current relationship, Eric felt a strange sensation in his heart.
Could this be a classic case of "love turning into hate"?!
As Clark listened to Eric's complaints about Lex, his expression gradually became strange.
"Those explosions just now were caused by Lex's people?"
He hesitated, then asked Eric again.
He still couldn't quite believe Lex would do such a thing.
"You can go find the answer yourself."
After replying to his "cheap big brother," Eric turned and left.
The fleeing Owl Council assassins were getting further and further away. Although he had super vision, it was best not to let them get too far out of sight.
The Owl Council, a small, imposing council hall.
The seats were filled with men and women wearing Owl masks, exuding an aristocratic demeanor.
All members of the council had already heard the report from the returning Owl assassins.
The Speaker's expression was solemn, and the members in their staggered seats were also stunned by the news they heard.
"How is this possible? Someone who can shoot lasers from his eyes and possesses power that even the Talons cannot match—how can such a person exist?"
"Even the Owl assassins, gathered together, couldn't defeat the being called Homelander?"
"I think we need to revise our strategy, and even reduce our meetings for our safety. If they discover our location, it will certainly be a disaster."
The members of the Owl Council began to discuss animatedly.
"Silence!"
The Speaker rapped on the conference table. "Even if he breaks into the Owl's nest, only defeat awaits him. The endless labyrinth is the first obstacle to hinder him, and our Mr. Parody is our second obstacle. Even if our initial plan to reclaim this city is thwarted, that is merely the darkest hour before dawn."
When the Speaker mentioned Mr. Parody, he cast his gaze towards the middle-aged man standing in the shadows, his entire body hidden within a black trench coat.
"Am I right, Mr. Parody, our magician?"
"As a matter of fact,"
The middle-aged man stepped out of the shadows and said with a serious expression, "I am not a magician, but a conjurer. I've barely mastered introductory card tricks and have begun to step into the stage of an illusionist with considerable experience."
"Magic? I believe it is completely different from sorcery."
The Speaker said to Mr. Parody, "I've heard that magic in the air surrounds us at all times. For some gifted individuals, we can grasp it just by reaching out. To explain such an existence with the word 'conjuring' is too far-fetched, Mr. Parody."
"Of course, you are right. Some people can indeed effortlessly strip pure magic from the air to rewrite natural laws. But that kind of energy must come from somewhere and will ultimately go somewhere. I am wary and fearful of such magic."
Mr. Parody took two steps forward, staring into the eyes of the masked Speaker. "Magic comes with a price. The more powerful it is, the more dangerous it becomes, often accompanied by a painful cost. My magic is a small trick; it plays a deception to prevent those dangerous entities from noticing, so I prefer to call it conjuring."
The Speaker was not interested in Mr. Parody's theory of magic. Right now, he only wanted to confirm whether the other party could eliminate Homelander.
"That sounds interesting, Mr. Parody, but our transaction objective does not include listening to you expound on the origin and development of the magical world."
The Speaker paused, then said, "The blasphemer—the being who calls himself Homelander—is now furiously challenging the dignity of the Owl Council, Mr. Parody. We hope you can demonstrate your effectiveness."
"Of course, I will fulfill my responsibility, and you must also give me that book."
Mr. Parody's eyes instantly sharpened.
"Otherwise, our relationship won't remain this friendly."
The middle-aged man clearly did not have a friendly relationship with the Owl Council members. He casually pointed to an Owl mask hanging on the wall and said, "Worm fireflies transform into masks (the reverse of 'masks transform into fireflies')!"
Immediately after, the Owl mask on the wall suddenly vanished, replaced by several yellow fireflies that appeared out of thin air.
The fireflies dancing in the air illuminated the slightly dim council hall with a brilliant glow.
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