"What is this?"
After a two-second silence, Eric was ready to tell his parents a necessary "white lie."
Clark, however, jumped up, his face filled with a nervous expression, "This isn't ours."
His extremely nervous expression and stuttering tone, no matter how one looked at it, showed a guilty conscience.
Jonathan was stunned and looked at Clark suspiciously, "If it's not yours, why is it in your hands? Clark, you know where our boundaries and bottom line are."
"Yes, I know."
Clark glanced at the expressionless Eric with a bit of guilt.
He felt a little embarrassed, thinking that his series of actions just now had completely messed things up.
"Clark, your and Eric's talents come with responsibility. I don't want you to squander this talent. You know what is permissible and what is absolutely forbidden."
Jonathan walked towards Eric as he spoke, "The same goes for you, Eric. You know my bottom line for you: use your abilities carefully. That's what we agreed on, right?"
"I understand."
Eric nodded; he understood his father's meaning.
His father was simply worried that he and Clark would use their extraordinary abilities for illegal activities.
"So, Clark, what's in the box?"
After lecturing his two sons, Jonathan finally asked the most crucial question.
"Inside…"
Sweat beaded on Clark's forehead, and he stammered, unsure what to say.
"Creak!"
Just as Clark was anxiously sweating, the door was pushed open.
Lex Luthor pushed open the door and walked in, "Sorry, Mr. Jonathan, this is something I asked Clark and Eric to hold for me."
Everyone in the room, especially Clark, was very surprised by Lex's sudden arrival.
"Lex?"
"Sorry, Clark, for showing up without prior notice."
Lex smiled apologetically at Clark, walked up to the astonished Jonathan, and extended his hand, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Jonathan."
Jonathan did not shake his hand, frowning and saying, "I don't think my sons' relationship with the Luthor Family is close enough for this."
"Actually…"
Lex didn't mind the other party ignoring his handshake, naturally withdrawing his hand that was suspended in mid-air, "I ran into some trouble, and my manor was damaged, so I asked Clark to temporarily store some valuable items for me. You know, rebuilding the manor is a very long process."
"Wouldn't you agree, Clark?"
Lex asked Clark with a smile.
"Yes, that's right."
Clark let out a long breath and nodded repeatedly.
He was immensely grateful that Lex had come to save the day at the crucial moment.
"I know my son was at your manor for a party and then encountered an attack by an unknown individual."
Jonathan's tone was clearly not friendly, "Perhaps you should stay away from my son, so the troubles you attract won't involve us, and Clark won't be in danger."
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Jonathan."
Lex looked a bit awkward, rubbing his nose, "I am very grateful to Clark."
"What we need most is not gratitude, but to maintain an appropriate distance."
"Jonathan!"
Seeing her husband's tone becoming increasingly unfriendly towards Lex, Martha, fearing a conflict between the two, spoke up to stop her husband, "You've talked too much today. Clark, Eric, and their friend might have things to say. Give them some space."
After listening to his wife, Jonathan stopped his sarcastic remarks towards Lex, glanced at him, then turned and went upstairs with his wife.
"Lex, thank you!"
After his parents went upstairs, Clark breathed a sigh of relief and thanked Lex.
"No, I should be thanking you. I'm happy to know you're alright, Clark!"
Lex was in a good mood and replied with a smile.
After chatting with Clark for a few moments, Lex walked over to Eric, who was preparing to leave, and extended his hand, "You must be Eric, right? I'm Lex Luthor. I've read your books; your imagination is truly eye-opening and magnificent."
Eric glanced at Lex's outstretched hand, "I always thought ambitious people and capitalists didn't have the leisure to read."
"Actually, for capitalists, reading can help them understand the true nature of society. For ambitious people, reading can help them accept the idea that 'when the time is right, anyone can do evil,' thereby finding excuses for themselves to cross moral boundaries with a clear conscience."
"You certainly don't shy away from admitting you're a capitalist and an ambitious person."
Although Eric's impression of Lex wasn't as bad as his father's, it wasn't good either.
"I know you, Lex Luthor. I can smell the selfishness and hypocrisy on you, and I know about your little schemes behind the scenes. If you don't want to get into trouble you can't handle, then rein in your excessive curiosity and schemes, or you won't always have such good luck."
After threatening Lex, Eric turned and left directly.
Lex was left standing there, deep in thought.
"Are you alright, Lex?"
Clark walked over and patted Lex, who was lost in thought.
"I'm fine."
Lex smiled and asked Clark, "Clark, how did you escape the manor? I remember you were in the main hall at the time…"
Listening to the question, Clark's face fell, and he didn't know how to explain.
The next day, early morning.
Smallville High School.
"It's great to see you safe and sound, Clark."
Pete vigorously punched Clark's chest, "But I knew you'd be fine, after all, you're Superman, with incredible strength."
"I'm not, Pete. If it weren't for good luck, I wouldn't have gotten away so easily."
Clark replied helplessly.
"Shouldn't we be focusing on the very serious terrorist attack that happened yesterday?"
Chloe complained, "Even though no students were injured, the entire Luther Manor was destroyed! I don't understand why everyone is acting like nothing happened?"
"Chloe, you clearly don't understand the Luthor Family's public relations power. They will make everyone forget anything unfavorable to them, just like they did to my parents."
Pete had a bad impression of Lex and said irritably, "So, you'd best keep quiet, otherwise the principal will close your little reporter's room. Oh, right…"
Pete quickly thought of something else, "This week's community event, Clark, can you come with me? I don't want to spend a whole day talking to those denture-wearing seniors at the nursing home by myself."
"Didn't you say you met an old man who could predict the future?" Chloe teased.
Predict the future?
Hearing this phrase, Clark's heart stirred.
He suddenly remembered the scene he had witnessed—Eric holding a head on a stick, whispering, "Darkseid is dead."
Was that also a predictable future?!
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