Chapter 9

"It's possible Clark's just trying to avoid an uncomfortable situation," Mitch remarked as he set down the newspaper.

"Uncomfortable situation?" Jonathan looked at Mitch, puzzled.

"Yeah, he goes out late at night, waiting until you and mother are asleep to avoid those awkward moments," Mitch explained casually, showing less concern compared to Jonathan and Martha.

"Did Clark tell you this?" Mother Martha asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

"No, he usually doesn't open up to me, especially when he thinks Dad and I are on the same page," Mitch admitted.

"Let's put the awkward moments aside for now, Mitch. Go check outside. I can't believe Clark would just wander off without saying hello to us," Jonathan said, handing Mitch his coat from the hanger.

Without another word, Mitch put on his coat and headed out into the night. Using his super vision, he scanned the sparsely populated farmland, easily spotting objects miles away.

"Fortress of Solitude," he muttered, scanning various locations, including the secret base, school, Lana's farm, and the local bar. But there was no sign of Clark.

Mitch's expression became more cautious as doubts began to creep in. Could something have happened to Clark?

In a cornfield near Luther Company's No. 3 Fertilizer Plant, the silence was abruptly shattered by heavy breathing and faint moans. In a clearing within the cornfield, a wooden cross stood, and Clark was tied to it, shirtless, wearing only shorts, and struggling to free himself.

A prominent red "S" logo was painted on his chest, contrasting with his sweaty forehead. Clark gasped in pain while attempting to break free from his restraints. However, a "Kryptonite" necklace around his neck severely weakened his strength, rendering his efforts futile.

A few miles away in the same cornfield, a curly-haired young man who appeared to be a high school student watched Clark's plight with a complicated expression. The strong wind rustled the cornstalks violently.

Covering his eyes to shield them from the blowing dust, the young man was startled to find a stranger standing beside him as the wind subsided. Mitch had arrived, having used super speed to reach the cornfield swiftly.

The gust caused by his rapid movement had knocked down the surrounding cornstalks. "Did you have a hand in this?" Mitch asked, his gaze fixed on Clark, still bound to the cross, in the distance.

The curly-haired young man shook his head vehemently. "No, it wasn't me. It was those guys from the rugby team. They pick a victim, tie them up here, and subject them to humiliation and torture before their games."

The young man expressed his displeasure at the rugby team members' actions, his eyes filled with disdain. "I thought they would stop after that incident a while back, but they've only gotten worse. Evil never disappears, and they refuse to reflect or change."

Listening closely, Mitch narrowed his eyes. "It seems you were once a victim of theirs, tied up as a scarecrow. What's your name?"

"Jerome," the curly-haired young man replied, a faint smile crossing his lips. "Have you heard of me?"

"I recall a story about someone who was tied up as a scarecrow here three years ago and then vanished mysteriously," Mitch mused. "That unfortunate soul's name was Jerome, right?"

As these thoughts raced through Mitch's mind, he turned his attention back to Jerome and his eyes emitted a red glow. "Jerome, I believe you must have heard of me, given that you stole a meteorite from my locker and saw my name on it."

Jerome's eyes widened in surprise as Mitch's heat vision struck his shoulder. He emitted a pained cry and was flung into the cornfield. Upon landing, he skidded across the ground, creating a deep furrow and crushing the cornstalks.

Jerome managed to rise amidst the wreckage, coughing from the pain and clutching his shoulder. "You...!"

Mitch stood before Jerome, cold and unyielding. "You possess physical abilities beyond ordinary humans. Even though you can still stand, you used kryptonite to enhance yourself, didn't you?"

Jerome, blood still trickling from his mouth, remained silent, his eyes filled with bitterness.

Suddenly, a massive energy sphere erupted from Jerome's body, and silver-white lightning arced into the sky like serpents. Mitch found himself surrounded by lightning bolts carrying high-voltage electricity.

"You jerk, go to hell!" Jerome, his eyes flashing silver, shouted as the lightning surged toward Mitch.

Mitch, however, remained unscathed within the storm of lightning, his clothes slightly tattered but otherwise intact.

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*5 Stars and Power Points*