Chapter 2526: The Cloak Contest (47)

Clark was gradually gaining influence, and President Wayne wanted to know the public's opinion on new policies and what the citizenry really cared about, so he sought out Clark's help again. Utilizing his website to collect opinions, the two started to become partners in their work.

In the course of their collaboration, Clark slowly realized that Bruce Wayne was truly a good president, perhaps even the best in history. Much of the public's misunderstanding and the politicians' attacks on him were baseless, and Clark felt it was his duty to clear up all the misconceptions.

Bruce found Clark's help invaluable in the realm of public opinion. He saw that this young journalist was different from most; he genuinely wanted to make the world a better place.

Moreover, the secret identities of Batman and Superman had been oft-discussed topics. Who wouldn't want a friend with whom they could share their superhero identity and actions?

Thus, their understanding and emotional bond grew stronger, and they quickly became close friends who could talk about almost anything.

They also had in-depth exchanges on their views of the world and found that their essences were the same. They wanted the world to improve on a macro level while also caring about every individual, hoping to be as considerate as possible to their feelings.

With their collaboration in their careers, they soon became comrades with a shared vision, elevating their friendship to a bond akin to revolutionary comradeship.

But just when their relationship was at its best, Batman was attacked. Of course, upon hearing the news, Clark's first thought was to rush to his aid. But on his way, he too was assaulted.

Clark did not know exactly what had attacked him, but he knew it was dangerous, so even when the first strike wasn't fatal, and he might have had enough strength to keep flying, he worried the thing would fall and harm ordinary people. In the end, he chose to plummet to the ground with it.

However, dazed with semi-consciousness, Clark was filled with guilt. If Batman really died because he failed to arrive in time, he would never forgive himself.

After hearing this story, Spider-Man remained silent for a long time, but then said, "If Batman knew the truth, he would definitely not blame you."

"Of course, of course," Clark muttered, "but he doesn't know. He'll think I didn't go to save him. He knows I could have, but I didn't..."

Spider-Man almost felt a headache coming on, another one fixating on a problem. However, there was another issue now.

"You don't seem as powerful," Spider-Man noticed, "at least not as powerful as my friends described to me."

Clark shook his head resignedly, "If this is really a Dreamworld, that explains it. The thing that attacked me is still grasped by my physical body, greatly diminishing my spirit. I'm no longer Superman right now."

Clark's lips tightened, his expression tinged with bitterness, as he continued, "Maybe right now I'm even less than an ordinary person, just a seemingly strong invalid."

"Is there anything we can do to help you feel better?" Spider-Man, who could never stand to see others suffer, stuffed food into Clark's hands and added, "Maybe eating something would help restore some of your strength?"

"I'm not sure human methods will work on me," Clark said dejectedly, even with a hint of resignation, "Even if they restore some strength, I'm still no use. This weakness might last several months."

Piggy Hero looked Superman up and down and said, "If you could recover to the level of ordinary humans, you would still be very strong. Spider-Man is an ordinary human, right? And he still became the fine president you speak of."

"Yes, you're right." Clark took a deep breath, straightened up, and said, "I can't give up now, I still have to go save Batman. What's this about Batman being in this Dreamworld? Tell me more."

Spider-Man briefly described the encounter with Batman in the gift shop that day and their impressions of this particular Batman, which caused Clark to frown repeatedly.

"If it's as you say, I really need to find him. Can you give me the address of that gift shop? I'll head there afterwards."

Spider-Man looked at Clark with some difficulty. It wasn't surprising that he initially did not recognize him as Superman. Whether from other Batman's descriptions or from photos, Superman should be a sunny, cheerful, and strong man.

But this man, although still possessing a muscular physique, had a vacant expression, a lack of spirit, and a pale complexion. In terms of physicality, he did not look his best. Could he really move freely in this heavy snow?

But Clark kept pressing, and Spider-Man, who invariably found it hard to refuse others, eventually gave him the address of the gift shop.

It was getting late, and Spider-Man knew he couldn't be delayed any longer. After leaving the address and food, he hurried off to school.

Clark had no appetite, but he still forced himself to finish the food Spider-Man had brought. Later, the shelter distributed another meal. Even though Clark couldn't stomach it anymore, in order to recover his strength, he still struggled through the discomfort and ingested the unappetizing food.

After eating, he dozed off for a while until the shelter started expelling people. Seeing the lineup of homeless waiting outside, Clark couldn't bear to stay any longer. He felt his condition, no matter how poor, was still much better than theirs. After all, Kryptonians aren't known to freeze to death.

Clark left the shelter and started walking toward the gift shop address. It was ten thousand times harder than he had imagined. He almost never walked on the ground when the weather was bad.

It was probably the first time in his life that Clark experienced what cold felt like, but he had to see Batman, to ensure he was alright. He had to go now.

This thought repeated itself in Clark's mind, driving him to keep going until he reached the vicinity of the gift shop. Just when he was about to enter, Clark suddenly felt nervous.

No, it's fine. As long as he told the truth, Batman would surely understand. After all, they both wanted to help ordinary people. Clark thought to himself, Batman would not agree to let such a dangerous object fall on the heads of innocent people. He would understand.

With that thought, Clark entered the store. Despite being close to Christmas, the shop was still empty of customers. The moment Clark walked in, he saw Bruce wiping down the counter.

"Bruce…"

Clark called out in a hoarse voice.

Bruce looked up, seemingly surprised to see him there, and stood up, frowning as he said, "What are you doing here?"

"I... I don't know, but I came to find you. I had to make sure you were okay. I was attacked, and that thing..."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Bruce interrupted him and turned back around to say, "If you're here to buy something, bring it to the counter to pay. If not, please leave."

Clark's heart nearly broke. He knew Batman would definitely be angry, for they had just exchanged ideas and confided in each other. Then he had failed to save him when it mattered; anyone would be angry over that.

"Bruce, listen to my explanation, I really didn't…"

"You didn't need to save me." Bruce said, "Because you didn't have the capacity. You didn't foresee the attack, nor did you avoid it. You did your best, so you owe me nothing."

Clark was stunned.

He stood there gaping at Bruce as if he didn't recognize him, then stammered, "Bruce, what's wrong with you? What I mean is, do you really think that way?"

"Of course, you're strong, but not the strongest. Being defeated proves you can't do it. If you can't, why force it? You should take care of yourself first."

"What are you talking about?!"

"I'm expressing my concern for you." Bruce dropped his gaze, wiping the counter surface as he spoke, "Look at yourself, weaker than a human. Shouldn't you be healing your wounds and resting properly?"

"But we still don't know who attacked you! The world is now in grave danger. We need to find a way to leave this place and go back to save Earth!"

"I've already said it can't be done." Bruce shook his head and said, "I'm not dead, but I was close to death. Your situation is similar to mine. We've lost, which proves we can't do it."

"Even in this Dreamworld where I'm just an ordinary person without wisdom, indebted to the bank, with a sick relative to care for, working three jobs and still not making ends meet, how am I supposed to investigate the truth?"

"And you…" Bruce appraised Clark and said, "You look no different from the homeless about to freeze to death. What you need now is a hot cup of coffee and a good sleep, not staggering through the snow."

Clark was completely rooted to the spot by Bruce's words, and he looked at Bruce incredulously, trying to find the slightest hint on his face that he was speaking out of anger.

But there was none. Bruce wasn't angry, his expression was very calm, his demeanor gentle, as if merely stating a fact.

"You're crazy, Bruce." Clark said, shaking his head as he backed away, "You've completely lost it."

"Who's the one that's really lost it?" Bruce turned back and continued tidying the shelves behind him. "Haven't you always warned me not to get too obsessed? The greatest display of obsession is trying to do what can't be done, constantly trying to turn the impossible into possible. That's an abnormal thought, something only a madman would conceive."

"Rather than saying I've gone crazy, it's more like I've gotten better. I've learned to accept reality, to resign, to stop pursuing greater power for greater responsibility, and to admit that without power, one cannot bear responsibility."

"You…" It seemed as if Clark had been deeply hurt; his blue eyes reddened like scalding hot steel fresh from the forge.

"Leave this place, Clark," Bruce said, "Find somewhere to rest properly. You're not Superman anymore."

Clark clenched his fists, and just as he wanted to say something more, the television in the display window turned on.

"We interrupt with breaking news: The Clawed Killer has struck again in Queens District, this time attacking a family of four living in the Holden Villa Area. The poor little daughter became the target of the attack. The police have surrounded the villa area. Will this time bring good news? Please stay tuned for the live broadcast following this report..."

Click, the television was turned off. Bruce retracted the hand holding the remote firmly, and Clark saw a hint of annoyance on his face. Once again, he was flabbergasted.

How could Batman possibly show annoyance upon hearing news of crime? He even turned off the TV instead of watching the broadcast, showing no interest in any information related to the criminal.

Clark had indeed said before that he was slightly too obsessed in this regard, but was this level of normalcy acceptable?

Clark shook his head and ran out the door, stumbling as he left.