The Silent War Begins

Clark looked incredulously at his father, "Why not? I can't even join the football team?"

"We've discussed this, Clark," Jonathan replied, just returning from the barn and washing his face. He looked slightly tired as he spoke to Clark, "The talents you possess aren't suited for football."

"Why? I can control my strength. Dad, don't you believe in me?"

"It's not about belief or disbelief," Jonathan hesitated, "On the field, there are many unpredictable situations. For instance, if you were to get emotional and lose control, or try to impress a girl with a stunt, someone could get hurt. Clark, you have a more important mission than winning football games."

Clark didn't understand his father's intentions and asked disappointedly, "Eric gets recognition for using his talent in painting, but I don't get recognition for using mine in football?"

"I'm tired of being punished for my talents! You believe Eric can handle everything, but you don't trust me to handle things on the field. You never trust me!"

Clark's tone carried some anger, "I can control my strength and make my own decisions in life!"

"Clark," Jonathan's tone became more serious, "I won't sign off on this."

"I don't need your approval! I will join the football team, and you can't stop me!"

Clark faced off against his father.

The standoff between the two continued until Eric and Martha returned from the supermarket.

Martha noticed the unusual atmosphere between her husband and eldest son and quietly approached her younger son, asking Eric, "Eric, do you know what happened between your father and Clark?"

"It's probably about the football team," Eric explained to his mother, "I heard Coach Watt is considering recruiting Clark for the football team."

"I see," Martha nodded, not saying anything more, but with a worried expression on her face.

She knew her husband's attitude towards the football team.

Now, Jonathan and Clark had entered into a silent war, and there was no sign of reconciliation by noon. Neither of them showed any signs of backing down.

After taking a few bites of food, Clark silently left the farm.

"I don't understand why he's so stubborn," Jonathan said, setting down his fork and knife, "Eric joined the football team once, but he quickly quit."

"That's different, Jonathan," Martha said to her husband, "Eric joined the football team when he was in middle school. Football wasn't seen as a way to prove oneself back then."

"I wasn't like him at Clark's age," Jonathan didn't compare Clark to Eric but talked about himself, "Yes, you were very obedient to your parents. You never ran away from home one summer to try out for the Metropolis Sharks."

"Cough," Jonathan awkwardly glanced at Eric, feeling embarrassed to lose face in front of his younger son, "Since when did you join the opposing side?"

"Jonathan, Clark just hopes you can trust him a little," Martha said softly.

"His talents come with responsibilities."

Faced with his wife's persuasion, Jonathan sighed sadly.

Sitting by the artificial lake, the open-air café was the only decent café in Smallville.

Lex Luthor was sitting on the café closest to the edge of the lake, tasting the unique flavor of the town's coffee.

"Lex, honestly, I doubt your father would have transferred you to this fertilizer factory here," said a middle-aged man sitting across from Lex.

"That's what I asked you to investigate about the Smoville High School dance, how's it going?"

"Of course, this is the reason I asked you to meet me," replied the middle-aged man, putting a file bag on the coffee table.

"Things are far more complicated than imagined," he continued, "The Smoville Town government blames the tragedy on a circuit fire, but it's obviously a cover-up. This isn't the first time they've tried to cover up the truth, there have been many similar incidents."

Lex nodded and opened the file bag, looking through the information collected by the middle-aged man, "Regarding the suspect Jeremy, can he really release lightning?"

"According to eyewitnesses and the autopsy report of the deceased, it seems so."

The middle-aged man nodded seriously, "In addition, there's something very strange."

He pulled out a few photos from the file and handed them to Lex, "This is the gymnasium located northeast of Smoville High School. On the night of the dance tragedy, it was severely damaged."

Lex adjusted his sitting position, carefully observing the shocking damage to the gymnasium in the photos.

The collapsed floor, broken basketball hoops, and collapsed walls with impact craters.

"You're not telling me humans caused this, are you?"

Lex put down the photos, furrowing his brows slightly.

"Although it sounds absurd, but,"

The middle-aged man shrugged, "It seems that way."

"Mom, balloons!"

The conversation between the two was interrupted.

At a nearby table not far from Lex, a little girl spoke in a tender voice.

To chase the flying balloons, the little girl ran onto the road in three or two steps.

"Honk!"

A heavy truck, honking wildly, rushed over.

In order to avoid the little girl in the middle of the road, the driver gritted his teeth and slammed on the brakes, and sharply turned the steering wheel.

"Squeak!"

The car turned left, and the huge inertia immediately caused the car to lose control.

The car, leaning on its side, rushed towards the direction where Lex was.

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