For Whom the Bell Tolls

"Today is Clark's match day. Jonathan and I are going to watch the game. Eric, are you coming?"

Martha, wearing a scarf and ready to go out, stood at the door and asked Eric.

"No."

Eric, who was looking through the information obtained from the reporter Chris, shook his head in refusal.

"Sorry, I'm not interested in football right now."

"Hmm."

Jonathan put on his coat and said to Eric, "Sometimes we need to make changes, like me. I've changed my stance and now have to go watch the game with Martha, even though I've always been against Clark joining the football team."

"You can't always be so stubborn, Jonathan. Just like how we support Eric's writing, you should also support Clark's football hobby." Martha said to her husband.

Jonathan sighed, "It's not the same thing at all, Martha."

"It is the same thing, at least in Clark's mind."

Martha wrapped a scarf around her husband's neck, "This represents whether a father trusts his son, and trust. Sometimes it's incredibly important."

"I know."

Jonathan glanced at his wristwatch, smiling slightly at his wife, "If we don't hurry, we'll be late."

After the parents left, Eric returned his attention to the notebook in front of him.

The notebook mostly contained news interview drafts, videos, and photo materials.

After searching all the disks, he found a suspicious document in a hidden folder.

The document's homepage displayed a nursery rhyme:

We killed it,

Who will be its priest

Who will be its chief priest

Who will carry its coffin

Who will sing its praises

The crow writes down death prayers in its notebook

The pigeon sheds tears mourning the beloved, the chief priest of the future

The kite walks the night road in desolation, carrying the heavy coffin

The robin sings praises from the bushes

All the birds sigh and weep

When they hear the death knell

It rings for them

Notice

Notice to all concerned parties

This notice informs

Next owl council meeting

Will judge all the birds

Underneath the eerie nursery rhyme was a long list of personnel.

Eric glanced over it briefly, only recognizing a few familiar names on it.

Including Lex Luthor.

"Whose funeral bell is ringing for the birds? The Owl Court is getting more interesting."

Closing the notebook, Eric stood up with a good mood and stretched lazily.

Relaxed, he activated his super vision and cast his gaze on the distant football stadium.

In the Torch newspaper editor's office, Chloe, who was typing on the keyboard, glanced at the clock on the wall.

There were twenty minutes left before Clark's match started, and she had to finish inputting the school manuscript before that, otherwise she wouldn't make it to Clark's match.

"Clack! Clack! Clack!"

In the silent room, the only sound was the tapping of fingers on the keyboard.

Focusing entirely on her work, Chloe didn't notice a dark shadow quietly moving closer.

"Phew!"

Suddenly, flames appeared on her computer in front of her, emitting a terrifying sound.

The flames, emitting heat, quickly covered the computer monitor, keyboard, mouse, and typewriter equipment as if soaked in gasoline, burning rapidly.

"Cough! Cough!"

Covering her mouth, Chloe tried to retreat, but the flames seemed to have a life of their own, cutting off her escape route.

The newspapers and documents on the desk were all ignited by the flames.

Smoke immediately spread from the center of the room to the surroundings, surrounding her along with the flames.

"Cough! Cough!"

Chloe, choking, tried to retreat, but was trapped by the flames and couldn't move.

"Help! Help!"

Feeling desperate and helpless, she coughed loudly and called for help.

But her voice was covered by the burning flames and quickly dissipated in the air.

Coach Watt, who was manipulating the flames outside the editor's office, looked at Chloe trapped in the flames with a cold smile and turned to walk to the locker room.

Today was his 200th coaching game, and he hoped this victory wouldn't be delayed by this "small matter."

For him, the pursuit of honor had reached a pathological level, and he couldn't tolerate any flaws.

In the locker room, the door was pushed open with a "bang," and Clark walked in wearing the oversized football team jersey, standing in front of Coach Watt with a strange expression on his face.

"Clark?"

Surprised by Clark's arrival, Coach Watt said.

"You should go to the locker room to change clothes. The game is about to start."

"I asked Trevor."

Clark, with a displeased look, walked towards the coach. "He told me you've been abusing him and helping him cheat."

"Hmph."

Coach Watt, wearing a coach's uniform, snorted, "So the snitch who reported to Kuan was this kid. This shows that I've been too lenient with him. Such snitches and traitors, if you don't shut his dog mouth, he'll go to hell and be burned to death like your little newspaper lackey!"

"Clark, I'm your coach, your mentor, you shouldn't question me! Now, go to the locker room and change clothes!"

His last words, he gritted his teeth and said to Clark.

"No!"

Clark shook his head, "I won't go on the field, and neither will you."

"You seem to be rebelling against me like you're rebelling against your father, Clark. Don't provoke me, or you'll end up like your newspaper lackey!"

Coach Watt's face showed a fierce expression.

"Chloe?!"

Hearing Coach Watt mention the "newspaper lackey," Clark's face suddenly changed.

Bang!

The next second, Coach Watt's fist hit him hard in the stomach.

Clark, who had extraordinary defense, didn't take the opponent's attack seriously.

But to his surprise, Coach Watt's punch made him bend over in pain.

The piercing pain that couldn't be tolerated by the internal organs!

How could this.?

Clark, lying on the floor holding his stomach, couldn't figure out why the opponent could break through his defense.

Was it the hot steam circulating in the room?

Struggling for breath, he suddenly remembered that the coach really liked to use the sauna.

The coach often spent the whole day in the room, and no one was allowed to approach him.

Could it be related to the production of these hot steam, to those green meteorite fragments that restrained himself?

Bang!

A kick flew up, and Coach Watt fiercely kicked Clark, rolling him on the ground twice.

"You look very uncomfortable, Clark."

Coach Watt sneered as he approached him.

"I know about your unusualness, just like Eric. Both of you are extraordinary guys, so unusual that even I doubt whether you're like me, influenced by those strange stones and turned into monsters."

"Ah, that feeling is indeed wonderful, grinding the green stones into powder, adding them to the steaming air, absorbing them through mouth, nose, and skin, all of it, more addictive than anything else in the world."

Coach Watt showed an intoxicated expression, "It gives me extraordinary abilities and endless energy, allowing me to put all my passion into the game."

"Cough."

Coughing, Clark ignored Coach Watt's words, trying hard to concentrate, using his super vision to capture Chloe's figure, only to find that she was already trapped in the sea of ​​fire with her life hanging by a thread.

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