Establishing Correct Values

Smallville Town, New Luthor Manor.

 A stick pokes the last billiard ball into the pocket, and Lex stands up.

 Putting the cue stick aside, wiping off the sweat, he picks up the latest newspaper.

 The front page shows the recent emergence of the Dark Knight in Gotham.

 "Batman?"

 Looking at the lengthy report on Batman's crime-fighting in the newspaper, Lex frowns slightly.

 "Dear, you look a bit unhappy, are you okay?"

 Victoria walks in carrying a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne.

 "I'm fine, especially after seeing what Sir Harry did with the hostile takeover of my father's company."

 "Dear, that's what we agreed on, isn't it? This is your first step in controlling your father's company."

 Victoria places the champagne on the table. "I think this calls for a celebration."

 "I don't think it's worth celebrating after this phase of war with my father."

 Lex glances at the champagne and says calmly.

 "You've been looking melancholic and troubled lately, Lex."

 Victoria's alluring gaze focuses on him as she gently embraces Lex's neck.

 "Normally, melancholy is due to one's incompetence, and trouble arises from unfulfilled desires. For me, I've never worried about my incompetence or desires. The emotions I express are a fear of the unknown."

 Lex faces her calmly despite her beauty.

 "The unknown?"

 Victoria looks at the newspaper on the table. "The Dark Knight? Batman? Lex, are you talking about these urban legends when you mention the unknown?"

 "I know Gotham City, it's different from Metropolis, where endless wealth breeds endless crime, and the hatred of lunatics and the underprivileged towards this city exceeds that of any existence. A knight, a Batman playing the role of a superhero, is merely another form of crime. This city won't reduce its hatred from lunatics and the underprivileged because of his appearance."

 Lex comments on the new Batman. "Maybe this guy in tights thinks his logic is correct, but the world never changes based on someone's logic. When there's a painting, and everyone paints on it, the painting becomes very strange. Imposing one's thoughts on others, enforcing one's 'justice', will only make this city more chaotic."

 "Hmm, sounds like you're very disdainful of this Batman."

 "Just a lack of agreement with a certain ideology."

 Lex shakes his head, "Back to business, any progress with the Owl Council investigation that Sir Harry is conducting?"

 "Not yet, my father says he's never heard of such an organization."

 Victoria shrugs.

 Lex thinks for a moment and says, "I hope you return to Metropolis soon, it's safer than Smallville."

 "Are you worried the Owl Assassins who attacked you last time will come back?"

 "Can't rule out that possibility." Lex nods.

 After seeing off his girlfriend, Lex sits on the couch with a heavy expression.

 The Owl Assassin's body showed signs of burning, how was it formed?

 By Clark?

 Or by that Eric who always hides himself in the mist?

 Or perhaps by some unknown force?!

 What he fears in his heart is this kind of unknown beyond his control.

 If it's those positive enemies, he has the courage to confront them head-on, but those unknown entities make him feel tired.

 Night.

 Kent Farm.

 Eric is concentrating on dealing with the ham and bread in front of him.

 The continuous supersonic sprinting flight in the air during the day, even though it didn't fly out of the atmosphere, still severely depleted his stamina.

 "Flight?"

 Clark looks at Eric in surprise, his eyes full of disbelief.

 "In fact, I and your mother were also surprised, Clark."

 Jonathan puts down the knife in his hand, "We don't know the principle behind this, whether it's the lift generated by high-pressure and low-pressure flow like an airplane's wing? Or some other reason, we have no idea. So... we can only explain it as some kind of talent of Eric's."

 Clark listens to his father's words, and the pizza in his mouth loses its flavor.

 He suddenly feels envious of Eric, while at the same time feeling a faint sense of loss and frustration.

 Although he knows these are not good emotions, they still emerge uncontrollably.

 "Clark."

 Mother Martha gently pats Clark's hand, "I remember you used to float in the air when you slept, and once even collapsed the bed, do you remember?"

 "I remember."

 Clark replies to his mother, "But that only happened a few times, and it hasn't happened since."

 "Clark, that means you, like Eric, also have the ability to fly, but this ability has not yet awakened."

 Jonathan says to Clark.

 "Maybe."

 Clark puts down his pizza somewhat dejectedly.

 Flying freely in the sky like a bird, he also yearns for this ability.

 Lost in thought, Clark suddenly remembered a scene he had seen in a dream before.

 Eric standing in front, slowly descending from the sky, and he was also following behind Eric, flying down from the sky with a cloak on.

 If that was the future, it meant his future self had also awakened the talent of flight!

 Clark's heart was instantly filled with excitement.

 But it was soon extinguished by a bucket of cold water.

 No, that wasn't the future he wanted, nor was it the future he acknowledged.

 "I remembered a question."

 After finishing the ham, Eric interrupts Clark's thoughts.

 "If a poor guy falls from a height, accelerating freely at 32 feet per second, and the speed quickly reaches 120 kilometers per hour. At this point, I just happened to notice her, so I dived down from the air to catch her. What happens next? Clark?"

 Eric looks at Clark inquiringly.

 "I..."

 Clark thinks for a moment, "I'm not sure, maybe... maybe you save her."

 "No! I think the scientific explanation is, once she touches my arm, she'll be split into three halves."

 Eric tells Clark a classic Superman joke.

 Unfortunately, Clark didn't understand Eric's "dark humor" and instead furrowed his brow

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