Going to Gotham?

Clark got up and went downstairs.

As soon as he sat down at the dining table, he noticed that Eric was holding a piece of green meteorite in his hand.

Clark, who had a "stress reaction" to meteorites, suddenly stood up and backed away.

"Eric, that meteorite in your hand?!"

Clark's eyes were filled with shock, and he immediately started imagining all sorts of scenarios.

Could it be that Eric was controlled by Ms. Aikins, just like those men she had seduced, and now he was going to deal with him?

Eric didn't notice Clark's expression and casually tossed the meteorite onto the table. "Recently, there's been a lot of this fake meteorite stuff going around town, sold as souvenirs to out-of-towners."

"It's... fake?"

Clark cautiously reached out and touched the meteorite.

There was no special reaction.

"Selling fake meteorite fragments to out-of-towners, that's Hamilton's business."

Martha brought out a bowl of oatmeal from the kitchen and said to the two of them.

"Hamilton?"

"The town's 'meteorite weirdo.' Your father is probably one of the people in town who has the worst relationship with him."

Jonathan came in from outside and immediately refuted his wife's words.

"Actually, I don't know him. It's just that Hamilton insists that all the bizarre things that have happened in town over the years are caused by the meteorites and not by pollution from the LuthorCorp plant. You know, I've always disagreed with that viewpoint."

Jonathan wiped his face and gave his assessment of Hamilton.

Eric, sitting next to them, repeated the name "Hamilton," clasped his hands together, and fell into deep thought.

Sunday.

Outskirts of Smallville.

A dilapidated warehouse stood in the wilderness.

Eric stood at the entrance, used his X-ray vision to observe the general situation inside, then walked to the door and gently pushed open the iron door of the warehouse.

With a creak, the heavy iron door was pushed open, and he walked into the dimly lit room.

The partition blocked the sunlight from outside, leaving only a few incandescent lamps to cast dim light on the environment.

On the shelves and cabinets in the room were green meteorites, and on the laboratory table were microscopes and other experimental tools.

To an outsider, the first impression might be of a mad scientist's laboratory.

Eric walked up to a shelf and looked at the green meteorite placed on it.

He slowly reached out his hand to touch it, but was stopped by an unfriendly voice.

"Don't touch it!"

Eric turned around to see a thin middle-aged man carrying a wooden box, warning him, "Don't touch it. Your hands aren't sterilized, and you're not me!"

The middle-aged man put the wooden box down and casually closed the door.

"Don't you have a website?"

"What?"

"Usually, only those weirdos with their own websites manage to find me."

The middle-aged man clapped the dust off his hands and asked Eric, "So, are you one of those weirdos too?"

"I don't think I have anything to do with weirdos."

In the face of the unfriendly middle-aged man, Eric's tone wasn't friendly either. "I heard that someone around here is selling fake plastic meteorite fragments to tourists. I think that person must be you, right, Dr. Hamilton?"

As he spoke, he walked towards the green meteorite with a label on it, "Just like this stone I was about to touch."

He reached out and touched the meteorite. "I can feel that it's not a real meteorite."

Dr. Hamilton's expression became more serious. "Who are you?"

"Eric Kent."

Eric walked up to Dr. Hamilton. "I'm very interested in your research."

"Hmm..."

Dr. Hamilton nodded thoughtfully. "I know you, the Kent family's kid, right? I think you should go to the school lab and see if they need a chemistry lab assistant. Maybe you'll find some fun there. I'm just a mineralogist. There's nothing here that could attract curious students like you."

"Mineralogist?"

Eric smiled faintly. "I don't think a mineralogist would have access to the first piece of moon rock brought back by Apollo."

"That was hundreds of years ago. Back then, I was still a respected scientist, but times change, and fate is fickle. Even scientists can end up as miners in a small town. Isn't that normal?"

Shaking his head, Hamilton walked to the worn-out lab table and poured out the dirt-covered stones from the box. Ignoring Eric's presence, he began to sort them out with his dark hands.

Eric frowned slightly, finding the old guy weirder than he had imagined.

Since learning that there was such a "meteorite weirdo" in Smallville, he had taken an interest in him.

He had already collected quite a few Kryptonite meteorites, but he had little clue about how the meteorites could trigger and enhance superpowers in ordinary people, like the bewitching gas produced in Ms. Aikins' body.

After investigating Dr. Hamilton and confirming that he had in-depth research on Kryptonite, Eric made him a target.

"Dr. Hamilton, I've read your articles. The theory that meteorites can alter cellular structures is refreshing."

Eric walked over and looked at the minerals on the lab table, speaking in a steady tone, "My body has been showing some strange symptoms. I've always suspected it might be caused by meteorites, so I'm interested in your research. If it can be funded, I think there would be discoveries that would shock the entire scientific community."

Hearing Eric's words, Hamilton's mouth curled into a smile, but it quickly faded.

"I'm glad to hear that, but... I don't believe a student can sponsor my research."

"Why are you so certain?"

Eric's expression remained serious.

Despite his young face, his demeanor and expression gave Dr. Hamilton a sense of authority.

"I have some extra funds, don't worry. It has nothing to do with my parents. I want to establish an institute to study meteorites and uncover the secrets of the town's meteorites. And Dr. Hamilton, you're the person I want. I can fund you, even set up a more professional lab for you, although all I have now is a high school biology lab."

As he spoke, Eric picked up a test tube filled with green liquid from the lab table. "And what you need to provide is research results. You get fame, I get profit, a normal transaction, right?"

Hamilton was silent for a moment and then asked Eric, "Why should I trust you?"

"Would you rather sell sightseeing stones here to raise funds than try? I believe you'll understand the difference. If you think it over, contact me directly."

After leaving Hamilton's warehouse, Eric immediately fell into thought.

To raise funds, he could sell the batch of gold and precious metals he got from the Owl Council.

But where would be suitable to sell them?

In the next second, a name flashed through his mind:

Gotham!

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