In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group

In the room where Clark was, Schiller placed his umbrella within reach and sat down on a chair. He looked at Clark and asked, "How's the situation at Metropolis University?"

"Well... it's actually not bad. I just started university this year, and I heard that after the new mayor took office, Metropolis University received more funding and got a new playground with a new lawn."

Clark wanted to sit up on the bed because he felt lying down while talking to someone was a bit impolite, but Schiller gestured for him to stay put.

Schiller turned to adjust the position of the desk lamp, making its light softer. Then he looked at Clark and said, "Now, there's no one else here. You can tell me how you ended up here."

"I, I really am..." Looking at Schiller's eye contact, Clark suddenly found it hard to continue his words. He felt like this Professor had seen through him, but he didn't know why.

"You don't have to worry, Clark. There are more people in this world with special abilities than just you." Schiller let out a sigh and continued, "I understand that you don't want to be seen as a monster. You want to live as an ordinary person in society, and I feel the same way."

Clark's lips trembled, but he turned his head away, seemingly unwilling to discuss the matter. However, just as he turned his head, he saw a wisp of flame appear in Schiller's hand.

Clark widened his eyes, looking at Schiller's hand. There were no mechanical devices there, yet the flame danced and burned in his hand, brighter than the light from the desk lamp.

"My goodness! You... you can also..." Clark's mouth hung open, seeming unable to express his feelings. He propped himself up on the bed, sat up, and turned towards Schiller, carefully staring at the fire in his hand.

"This is so cool! Are you a magician?" Clark brought his head close, and Schiller saw the look of curiosity on his face, sighing.

Logically, Superman should have a high level of intelligence, but for some reason, he appeared a bit naive in his actions. Despite being able to fly faster than a fighter jet, shoot laser beams from his eyes, and have superhuman strength, he still felt surprised and curious when seeing someone conjure a fireball.

Schiller gently clenched his hand, and a wisp of smoke rose as the flame died down. Clark seemed a little reluctant to take his eyes off it. He raised his head, looking expectantly at Schiller, and asked, "What else can you do? Can you fly? Can your eyes shoot lasers?"

Schiller shook his head, and in a moment, his figure disappeared. Clark was stunned, and then he heard a slight movement behind him. He quickly turned his head and saw Schiller reappear behind him.

Clark rubbed his eyes and twisted his neck, looking back at Schiller. He saw Schiller walk back to his seat and said, "In this world, many people have various special abilities. You are not alone."

"As for magic... I don't do magic, but it does exist. I know someone who uses magic, though he's a scoundrel." After Schiller sat back down, he brought his umbrella over from the side.

Clark noticed faint patterns on the umbrella's surface that seemed to change between reality and illusion. He leaned closer and reached out with a hand, but then pulled it back, feeling that such a gesture might be impolite.

"Is this a magic prop? Why do the patterns on it move? It looks like... snake skin?"

"It is indeed snake skin." Schiller caressed the umbrella's surface, feeling the slightly cool texture of the snake scales. He said, "Have you heard of the World Serpent Jormungandr from mythology?"

"Oh, is it that mythological story? We analyzed examples of Norse mythology in class."

"This is made from its skin."

Clark's expression froze. He swallowed, then said, "Are you saying someone killed Jormungandr and made its skin into an umbrella? That doesn't seem right..."

"Are you an animal rights advocate? Even so, I don't think you would extend your protection to mythological giant snakes."

Clark pursed his lips, watching the umbrella for a while before looking back at Schiller, asking, "Were your abilities also natural?"

Schiller shook his head and said, "The origin of the abilities isn't important; what's important is what you want to do with them."

"I think the same way," Clark's tone was very agreeable. He said, "Although I don't know why I'm different from ordinary people, I feel like I can use these abilities for good."

"Including winning the long-distance running championship in your department?"

Clark gave an embarrassed smile and said, "Actually, until I got into Metropolis University, I couldn't quite control this ability."

"That day, the photography teacher saw my strength when he had us familiarize ourselves with equipment. He introduced me to the track and field team. During training, I accidentally ran a bit too fast."

Schiller asked, "How fast?"

Clark pursed his lips and said, "Fast enough to accidentally break the world record."

"Then, my coach happened to witness this training, and he said I was a genius, insisting that I participate in long-distance running competitions."

Clark showed a somewhat troubled expression and said, "Before coming here, I was actually considering how to decline the offer."

"The competitions within the university were fine, but if I became a professional athlete and defeated all the veterans within a year, it would be quite sensational."

"And...," Clark hesitated and said, touching his chin with his finger, "Since you also have special abilities, have you ever felt... that kind of feeling..."

"Have you ever thought that competing with ordinary people might be unfair to them?"

Schiller took out a medical record book from his pocket and continued writing and drawing in it. He looked up and said, "Tell me more."

Clark looked curiously at the medical record book, and Schiller straightened up, saying, "I forgot to introduce myself. I am a psychology professor. I used to teach psychology at Metropolis University, including a course on criminal psychology, and I have supervised master's and doctoral students."

Clark widened his eyes, immediately sitting up straight, and said, "Oh, sorry, Professor. I was a bit disrespectful. I am quite curious about psychology, and I even took some basic psychology courses."

"It's fine. At the same time, I am also a psychologist, so if you share your troubles with me, maybe I can help you alleviate them. You should know my consultation fees are quite expensive."

"Oh, Professor, you're really kind," Clark said with a cheerful smile.

In some ways, Clark's temperament was somewhat similar to Spider-Man Peter's, but Peter tended to be more shy and reserved, rarely expressing his thoughts openly. When not wearing the Spider-Man suit, he looked more like a quiet bookworm.

But Clark was more outgoing, exuding energy and enthusiasm. Especially when he flashed that iconic smile, people unconsciously felt like trusting him.

Clark also observed the Professor in front of him. He looked like a typical scholar, with pronunciation and tone similar to the professors he had seen in college. His speech and grammar had a hint of scholarly refinement, but his tone was comforting.

Thinking of himself, Clark let out a sigh, feeling a mix of emotions.

During the time between graduating from high school and starting college, many things had happened. He had originally planned to spend the break at home, enjoying some relaxing family time. However, an unexpected snowstorm trapped all the students of Metropolis University in their dorms.

In reality, he had come out tonight to fight fires as an excuse to give himself some space. After all, his life as a college student differed slightly from what he had imagined, bringing him some worries.

Many literary and artistic works depict how people with special abilities live in the ordinary society. Clark had read some of these works, but based on his own experiences, he found that they were not entirely realistic.

A person with superpowers finds it challenging to completely conceal their extraordinary abilities. Clark had learned this firsthand. When you could effortlessly lift several tons, be immune to harm, and fly, it was difficult not to use those advantages in various situations.

For example, when you were just a few minutes away from being late for class, but the road was jammed with traffic, it was hard for Clark not to fly a short distance to get there on time. While flying and arriving promptly might feel great at the moment, he would later feel a strange sense of guilt, as if he had cheated in a game.

These feelings accumulated over time, but he had no one to confide in. So, on this evening, when Schiller showed him that he also had special abilities, Clark felt that he could understand him, which wasn't surprising.

Clark organized his thoughts and opened up.

"When I first joined the track and field team, everyone was friendly. Initially, I did some odd jobs like delivering water and towels after their training and helping move some equipment."

"I didn't think much of it. I knew new members in clubs were doing this. At that time, they would say I worked hard and encourage me to join the training soon."

"While it might sound strange, that period was the happiest time for me in the club."

"So, what happened afterward?"

Clark sighed, and his tone became more complex. "That day, they were practicing relay races, and one team member got injured and couldn't compete. The other substitute team members didn't show up, leaving only me, a newcomer, in charge of managing the training equipment."

"A senior approached me and asked me to train with them, as the anchor leg. I didn't think too much and joined them."

"In the earlier legs, our team fell behind, so when it was my turn to run, I got a bit anxious, and then..."

Clark pursed his lips, showing a somewhat sorrowful expression, and said, "I noticed the captain of the other team was not happy. They were initially leading, but they were overtaken during my leg."

"Later, my team members told me the other team's captain had always been the best performer in the club, and his team had never lost under his leadership."

"I wanted to apologize, but I felt it might make him angrier, so I didn't. But unexpectedly, the next day, he came looking for me, wanting to compete with me in a long-distance run."

"I was originally planning to deliberately lose to him and let it go, but the coach saw my performance in the relay race, and he hoped I would perform well and bring glory to the school."

"Because the captain's attitude when he came to find me wasn't great, I was also a bit angry, so during the race, I ran a bit too fast..."

"And then broke the world record?"

"I told them the timer was broken, and the other students believed it, but the coach clearly didn't."

Schiller chuckled and said, "After working in this field for a while, even with just an estimate, you can gauge the approximate data."

Clark let out a deep sigh. "Since that incident, everyone in the track and field team treats me a bit..."

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