"Clarke, you don't have to blame yourself for this. Even if you have a talent beyond the reach of ordinary people, you can't decide everything."

"I agree."

Pete's expression was solemn, "Unfortunate things happen every day in this world, Clark, you can't help and save everyone."

The two tacitly did not talk about the conflict between Clark and Eric just now.

"I should......"

Clark sighed slightly and looked at the wounded being rescued by the doctor in front, "I should have found out that the murderer is Jeremy's. If I don't waste so much time on Eric, maybe..."

Hearing Clark mention Jeremy, Chloe's expression changed slightly.

After thinking for a moment, she decided to tell Clark.

"Actually, Clark, Eric once suggested to me that Jeremy was the murderer of Dan Brown, but I didn't think so much at the time."

Chloe speaks out about Eric flipping through news stories about "Jeromey" in the editor's office yesterday.

After listening to Chloe's story, Clark fell silent.

A bit of confusion arose inside.

Did you blame Eric by mistake? !

"Clark!"

Just as he bowed his head in thought, he heard a familiar voice.

Looking up, she saw her mother, Martha, walking towards her anxiously.

"Are you alright, Clark?"

"I'm fine, Mom."

Clark squeezed a smile on his face, picked up his mood, stood up and replied to his mother.

"It's fine."

Jonathan came over and patted his eldest son on the shoulder, "Where's Eric? He's not with you?"

"No."

Clark replied with a strange expression.

Not noticing his son's strange expression, Jonathan frowned, took off his hat and looked around, hoping to find Eric in the crowd.

"Uncle Jonathan."

Lana, accompanied by her aunt, wrapped in a white blanket, came over to greet the couple.

"Lana."

Seeing Lana, who was a little embarrassed and had blood on her forehead, Martha came up and hugged her in distress.

"It was a sad night, how are you?"

"I'm fine, I didn't get any injuries, just a knock."

Lana smiled at Martha, her eyes wandering among Clark's group.

After not seeing Eric, a look of disappointment appeared on his face.

She did not tell the police that she witnessed Jeremy being killed by Eric.

Because there are many doubts in my heart, I want to come over and talk to Eric, but I didn't expect that the other party is not here.

Lana quickly picked up her disappointment, and after a few words with the couple, left under the pretext of "going to the hospital to take care of Whitney."

After watching Lana's back disappear, Clark came back to his senses.

He was a little concerned that Lana didn't come over to greet him.

Chloe and Pete, who were on the side, looked at each other when they saw Clark's frustrated expression facing the goddess.

it is more than words.

After sending Lana away, Jonathan is ready to ask the police about Eric's whereabouts.

Just after taking two steps, when he turned his eyes, he saw Eric who was talking to the police.

"Eric!"

Jonathan, who had confirmed that his younger son was safe, breathed a sigh of relief, walked over quickly, and put his arms around Eric's shoulder.

"Are you all right, Eric?"

"I'm fine, Dad, it's just that my clothes are torn by accident."

Eric responded to his father with a smile.

"That's fine, it's fine."

Jonathan patted Eric on the shoulder, "Marsha and Clark are waiting over there, let's go first."

......

The next day, early in the morning.

metropolis.

"The wild youth of the Metropolis? The story of the **** Lex Luthor and the Zero Club?!"

In Luthor Manor, Lex Luthor was flipping through the latest newspaper and sneered when he saw the lace news about him.

"If a genie escapes from the bottle, then it's no longer a genie, and the same goes for eye-catching tidbits, if it's fully reported, then it's no longer tidbits."

Putting the newspaper down, Lex stood up.

Wise, young, confident, full of vigorous momentum, except for the bald Lex, who has just completed an intense fencing training.

During the break, I picked up the newspaper and saw the report about myself, and immediately made a disdainful comment on it.

"So you admit that the above report is false?"

The female fencing coach has a good relationship with Lex, so she asked bluntly.

"Audrey, do you know how fencing got its way to elegance?"

Lex stood up and picked up the fencing mask placed on the table. Without waiting for the other party to answer, he said to himself:

"In 1776, the French fencing master La Boissier invented the mask, which made fencing move on the road of elegance. The invention of the mask completely isolates the accidental injury in the offensive and defensive confrontation. For me, wearing it properly A layer of mask is to protect my life from offense and defense."

"Who is your opponent in life? Your father, or those subordinates of your father?"

Audrey continued to ask.

"Who knows? Maybe neither, maybe both."

An inexplicable smile appeared on the corner of Lex's mouth.

Sitting down and continuing to read the newspaper, he caught a glimpse of a report on Smallville.

After a brief read, Lex was immediately intrigued.

"Smallville High School Prom Tragedy? Lightning?...Interesting."

Chapter 18 Trapped in the Nameless Lana

"Two students died unfortunately, and another six students who participated in the dance were injured and are being treated in hospital. Fortunately, the seriously injured are now out of danger."

Jonathan participated in the government-organized "Smallville Town High School Prom Accident Symposium" as a member of the student's parent representative, and shared information he knew with his family during lunch.

Due to such a major accident at the school, we were temporarily closed for two days.

That's why Eric and Clark didn't go to school.

"So, Jonathan, what happened?"

Martha frowned.

"Clarke mentioned before that a football player named Dan Brown was killed, and the suspect who killed him was the one who caused the tragedy at the ball."

Jonathan took the coffee in his hand and explained to Martha: "The name of the murderer is Jeremy, but he disappeared three years ago. I don't know why he came back suddenly this time."

"Did the police catch him?"

Martha continued to ask.

"In fact, Jeremy is dead."

Jonathan shrugged, raised the coffee cup in his hand to taste it, and quickly frowned.

Not sure if it was the bitterness of the coffee, or a lack of understanding of what was being talked about.

"Jeromey's body was found on the high school campus, with a fractured cervical vertebrae. Although he was the murderer, if he was alive, he would definitely provide the police with a lot of information."

Hearing that Jonathan said that Jeremy had died from a fractured cervical spine, Clark at the dinner table immediately cast suspicious eyes on Eric.

Able to kill Jeremy without disturbing anyone, except Eric, there is no second person to be found in Clark, the small town of Smallville.

"I heard that the unfortunate people who were killed and injured were members of the football team, is that true?"

After Martha digested what Jonathan said, she asked him what she had heard.

"Jeromey did have some conflicts with the people on the football team, but I think it's more of a school and coach Watt's consideration."

Jonathan didn't want to talk about this topic, and after replying, he stopped talking and brought up other things.

"Clark, the tractor can't run. Help me to repair it later. I suspect it is the problem of wear and oil leakage of the high-pressure oil pipe. I hope it will not be replaced this time, otherwise it will be another expense."

"Okay, Dad."

Clark nodded towards his father, and looked down at the fruit salad on the table.

Eric, sitting opposite Clark, began to think about how to launder the money he got from the gang so that his parents could accept it.

......

"Clark."

Hands full of oil, Jonathan, who was wearing a tattered maintenance overalls, asked Clark, who was standing next to him, "Are you involved in the prom?"

Clark was thinking about something, when he heard his father's words, he was stunned, and then shook his head.

"No, I tried to stop Jeremy, but it didn't work."

Clark's tone was a little gloomy. "If I could have been more mature, I could have stopped this tragedy, but I screwed everything up."

"No one is perfect, Clark."

Jonathan wiped his hands with a rag and patted Clark on the shoulder, "If you try to push everything on yourself, you'll find yourself full of holes. Learn to push when the time is right, whether it's stress. , responsibility, or the harshness of others against you..."

"I thought I could change something, but..."

Facing his father, Clark said what he said in his heart, "Just like Eric, I tried to change some of his views, but in the end nothing could be changed."

"Maybe...you brothers need to have a good talk."

Jonathan offered his own advice and talked about his year.

"When I was in high school, I got into an argument with my cousin about the ownership of a glove, Barry Lee Jones, do you remember him? He was a guest at our house last year. We had a fight, and Nobody agrees."

"Afterwards, your grandfather put us both in a corn warehouse that could only hold the two of us. After half an hour of boredom and madness, we started talking. Because we talked about everything but our mouths. can not do this."

Jonathan paused and said, "So after two hours of talking, we're back together."

"Clarke, sometimes all you need to do is create an environment where you can be undisturbed and listen and speak until you fully understand each other's thoughts."

After listening to his father's enlightenment to him, Clark nodded thoughtfully.

"I see, Dad."

Clark, who helped Jonathan repair the tractor, washed his hands and decided to chat with Eric.

But what he didn't expect was that at this time, his brother's room welcomed an unexpected visitor.

Lana Lan stood in Eric's room, looking at the picture on the wall in surprise.

The black and white interlaced light and dark sketches sketched by pencil or charcoal, the indescribable palpitating monsters in the starry sky, the ferocious body is hungry and greedy devouring everything.

A tool like a crayon draws giant monsters sleeping underwater. A terrifying figure, with scaly wings, was painted against a sticky, gloomy background overgrown with green moss, with the words "Atlantis Karason" written in the lower right corner of the painting.

There is also a colorful painting that impressed her, a dark night where the color could not be discerned, as if scarlet blood mixed with black mud, dim light shining on it, a shadowy building with "Arkham" written on its surface, Hidden in a night that we call "black".

"This...is Arkham?!"

Lana remembers reading in a book about the history of American cities that there is an "Arkham Sanatorium" in Gotham City.

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