Clark shut the car door and slid into the driver's seat of the sleek sports car borrowed from Lex, key in hand. The engine rumbled to life.
But his father, Jonathan, stepped directly into the vehicle's path.
"We may not be a rich family, but your mother and I have never held anything back from you or Adrian — materially or spiritually." Jonathan's voice was tight, anger barely restrained.
"I can earn millions of dollars," Clark said, stepping out of the car and walking toward him, his hand raised in emphasis. "I've got extraordinary talent. The world of sports and television would welcome me. You've been forcing me to suppress myself for years."
Jonathan's voice cracked slightly. "We're protecting you — we don't want to lose you."
"Protect me, or exploit me?" Clark sneered and turned back toward the car.
"I'm just another tool you use to run the farm — and so is Adrian. The difference is, he's fine with it. I'm not. I won't live under your control anymore."
He twisted the key. The engine roared, and Clark sped off, dust swirling around the couple in the yard.
"Adrian will be back today, Clark! I think you two need to talk," Jonathan shouted after him, desperation breaking through his tone.
"You're wrong. I — I'm fearless. Even compared to Adrian." Clark's voice echoed as the car tore down the road.
Meanwhile, inside the newspaper office at Smallville High, Chloe was animatedly telling Lana and Pete about her latest discovery.
"You won't believe what I found!" she said, handing a copy of the student paper to Lana. "That rebellious punk girl who's been hanging around Clark lately? She's involved in a legal case."
"Are you talking about Jessica Brooks?" Lana asked, brows knitting as she studied the article. "When she first transferred, I showed her around the school. I didn't think she was that kind of person."
"She's not a suspect — she's a protected witness under the Metropolis Police Department. Her father's location is unknown, but I'm certain I've seen him before. His photo matches this ID image exactly." Chloe took a sip of coffee, her mind already racing.
Pete frowned. "If he's under police protection, why refuse it and disappear?"
"I don't know. There's definitely more to the story." Chloe leaned back, thoughtful. "And with Clark acting strange lately — especially around Jessica — this could go either way."
At that very moment, Clark's situation was already unraveling.
His borrowed car had been forced to a stop on a deserted road. Two men in sunglasses stepped out of a black sedan. One held up a "State Police" badge.
"We're looking for a suspect," the man said, showing Clark a photo. "You've been in contact with her recently, haven't you?"
The image was unmistakably Jessica Brooks.
Clark's expression didn't waver. "No. Never seen her."
"You should think carefully," the man warned — and both men drew their pistols.
Clark's smirk deepened. In the blink of an eye, he blurred forward, snatching both guns from their hands.
"You're not police, are you?" he asked coolly.
One of them stammered, "How— how did you do that?"
"Very simple." Clark pointed a pistol at his own palm and fired three quick shots. "Bang. Bang. Bang."
The bullets flattened against his skin and clattered harmlessly to the ground.
"You'll never know who you're dealing with."
A sudden gust of wind swept past them — and Clark's hands were already wrapped around their throats, lifting both men off the ground with effortless strength.
"Talk," he ordered, eyes blazing.
"We're not police!" one gasped. "We were hired to find Jessica's father, Simon Brooks. He stole classified corporate documents — stuff that could send the company's executives to prison for decades. We were promised a million dollars to recover them."
"A million?" Clark's eyes narrowed sharply.
"We can split it," the man wheezed. "Help us find it, and the money's yours."
Clark released a faint scoff, then flicked his fingers. A shockwave sent both men crashing to the ground, unconscious.
He turned toward their car, eyes glowing red. A beam of heat vision ignited the fuel tank.
Whoosh—BOOM!
The car erupted into a ball of fire, shattering the quiet night.
The two men, lying farther away, survived the blast but trembled in fear. Clark climbed back into his car, eyes cold.
"If Adrian comes back today, he might get in my way," he muttered, pressing harder on the accelerator.
His thoughts turned to kryptonite — the one substance that could weaken both of them. If he could make Adrian touch it without doing so himself, his odds of winning would skyrocket.
Even now, despite his bravado, the shadow of always losing to his brother still clung to him.
Then he remembered Lana's necklace — the one set with a green kryptonite shard.
Screech!
Clark slammed the brakes, spun the ca
r around, and sped toward the school.
He knew Lana would still be there.
---