In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group

The day had gradually brightened, but the blizzard still raged on. The dawn's light filtered through the heavy snowfall into the devastated meeting room, but it failed to bring any real brightness. Instead, it felt even colder than the pitch-black night.

When Lex walked in, his complexion was pale, expressionless, and he looked emaciated as if he had emerged from the storm as an evil spirit. Clark's fingertips trembled, revealing his unsettled emotions.

But soon, anger overwhelmed him, and he stared into Lex's eyes, asking, "Did you kill him?"

Seeing Lex mouth the denial, Clark's voice filled with fury. "The blood on your pants belongs to him; I can tell."

The mask of weakness that Lex had put on gradually faded, replaced by a mocking expression. When he spoke, his voice was colder than the winds outside.

"Using your superpowers, huh? Can you even distinguish between different types of blood? I wonder what else your powers can do. Counting bugs in the fields while you plow like a dumb ox, perhaps?"

Even Lex himself didn't realize that behind his sharp words lay a deep-seated fear.

Across from him, Clark stood at the bathroom door, the shadow cast upon him by the corner of the wall making him appear like a lurking giant beast in the darkness, as seen through Lex's eyes.

At that moment, Lex realized he felt an intense disgust for this person with unknown powers. His anger still stemmed from fear—the instinctual fear of those at the top of the food chain, the fear of beings superior in their nature.

Due to this fear, he instinctively rejected any interaction with Clark, saying, "What I did is none of your business, mind your own."

Seeing Lex's defiant attitude, Clark became somewhat angry too. The sight of Lionel's corpse had a significant impact on him. He lived in an innocent town, never having seen a corpse, let alone such a bloody crime scene.

He took a step forward, forcing Lex to retreat. Clark's voice grew low as he said, "Luthor, killing is against the law! And he was your own father, wasn't he?"

Lex scoffed through his nose and replied, "I know you're someone who believes in the law, but I'm not. I don't want to explain myself to you."

Turning around, he faced Clark, and with a bitter tone, he continued, "You put on the act of a saint, trying to persuade me to cooperate with Wayne, but what are you doing now? Are you executing our plan?"

"Or perhaps, you're just a hypocritical fraud, wanting us to do your dirty work while secretly investigating and looking for leverage against us."

"I never thought that way," Clark said helplessly.

"But you did," Lex's voice trembled without him noticing.

Now, Clark was too close to him, though they were still at least two meters apart. Lex could already feel the suffocating pressure. He had witnessed Clark in battle and was certain that if Clark decided to act, he wouldn't last a second.

Facing a formidable beast capable of killing him, Lex couldn't help but feel an instinctual fear that was deeply ingrained in humanity. Clark's abilities demonstrated that he was not merely an ordinary person; he might not even be entirely human.

Lex didn't know how Clark thought, didn't know when he would strike, didn't know when he might kill him. All he knew was that Clark only needed a single thought, and his fate would be sealed.

No one could remain calm in such emotions. Lex's chest heaved, and though he kept moving backward, he lacked the courage to turn his back on Clark.

Seeing that Lex had no intention of communicating, Clark took a deep breath and walked towards him. As they drew closer, Lex's fear intensified, and he turned to run.

In that moment, Clark grabbed him, but he didn't attack. He only wanted to stop Lex from leaving, hoping they could talk and resolve the misunderstanding.

Up until now, Clark still believed that Lex might not have done it on purpose. After all, compared to the mysterious phone call from an unknown person, he trusted Lex more, having interacted with him.

Yet, Lex was completely broken. When Clark captured him, he felt like a captured insect, helpless as the powerful hand of Death closed in on him. He couldn't even flap his wings momentarily and could only wait for his demise.

He began to do something to mask his fear. His voice raised, and he spoke rapidly, "I did kill him! I even dismembered him with my own hands. That's what I did! What are you going to do? Kill me?"

"I've said it before, Clark. Your immense power makes you immune to most people's harm, so, of course, you can pretend to be tolerant and a kind person!"

"But when you want to use that power to judge me, or even kill me, you're no different from me. You're a monster!"

Lex's tone was intense, and as Clark heard him acknowledge killing someone, he felt immense anger. Not just because of the brutality of the crime scene, but he truly couldn't fathom how someone could commit such heinous acts without remorse.

As Lex tried to retreat, Clark moved closer and then raised his arm, hitting Lex on the neck, knocking him unconscious.

Clark remained where he stood, catching his breath. For some reason, a tumult of emotions surged within him because, at that moment, he saw the fear in Lex's eyes when he made his move.

Lex must have been scared that his crimes would be exposed. Clark tried to convince himself of that, but another voice inside him told him that Lex was actually afraid of him, afraid of his immense power.

Lex saw him as a monster, not as a fellow human being. He believed Clark was incapable of communication and was simply afraid of him.

This made Clark feel terrible, as though he had truly become a beast hiding among the crowd, using his immense power to attack humanity without restraint.

Just as he bent down, intending to lift Lex and take him back to the guest room, a sudden and intense feeling of weakness overcame him. Clark took two deep breaths and half-knelt on the ground.

In previous instances, whenever he temporarily relaxed his body and took a deep breath, this feeling would fade away. But this time, Clark stood still, gasping for a long time, and the sensation grew stronger.

Suddenly, he sensed a shadow appearing overhead. Looking up, he saw a person wearing a long suit standing in front of him. When he looked higher, he saw the pale hand of the person holding a peculiar container with a green-glowing stone inside.

Clark strained to look up, and a face with a mad grin came into his view. Without a doubt, a series of maniacal laughter rang out from above.

The lid of the container was opened, and the green stone was thrown directly onto Clark's body. He let out a painful groan, barely able to support his own weight and collapsed to the ground.

Suddenly, a face with Joker makeup appeared before Clark's eyes. Joker leaned in, even reaching out to pat Clark's face, wearing a big grin.

Joker reached down and picked up the green stone, waving it in front of Clark before raising it high and smashing it down heavily.

"Ah! Ah!"

Clark let out a low and agonizing scream. Upon contact with his skin, the green stone caused a severe burning sensation, and what made it worse was the increasing feeling of weakness, making him dizzy and nauseous. He had never experienced such a feeling before.

Suddenly, he felt something covering his eyes, sticking to his eyelashes, making it difficult to open them.

The scent of blood wafted from a place very close to him. He struggled to extend his hand and touched his forehead, feeling pain. Clark held his fingers in front of his eyes and saw that they were covered in sticky blood.

Was he bleeding?

Clark's breath became increasingly rapid, and he felt an emotion he had never experienced before. It was probably fear. This was the first time he had been injured and bleeding since birth.

Through his blood-covered gaze, Clark could see Lex lying on the ground. The blood at the back of his neck had already dried and turned into dark scabs.

The nauseating smell of blood constantly reminded Clark how painful it must be for ordinary people when they were injured.

At this moment, the person in the long suit walked to Lex's side, squatting down and poking Lex's arm with their finger. Lex, being weak to begin with, hadn't woken up quickly after being knocked out. As a result, he didn't react to the poking. However, the person with Joker makeup spoke to himself cheerfully:

"Oh, look at this poor guy, Lex Luthor, abused by his father for a long time, left with so many injuries…"

As the person spoke, they lifted the back of Lex's shirt, and Clark widened his eyes because he saw numerous scars crisscrossing Lex's back, with fresh wounds on top of old ones, clearly not sustained in a day.

Clark pounded the floor with his hand in a futile attempt to struggle and get up, but the green stone was too close, and as soon as he managed to straighten up a bit, he fell back to the ground.

"How hard he tried to get revenge, waiting for so long, finally seizing the chance to kill that damn pervert, avenging his mother and himself…"

"He succeeded... succeeded!" Joker pouted and nodded, seemingly expressing approval. But soon, he burst into loud laughter again and said:

"But he's a lousy and outdated screenwriter; no one likes this kind of revenge plot. People prefer every performance to have a sufficiently humorous ending!"

With that, Joker wobbled to his feet, looking down at Clark from above and said, "He couldn't do it without a relationship, but I can help him."

"Now, this scene has a sufficiently humorous ending…"

"Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha...!"

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