Not long after leaving the clothing store, Clark quietly returned.
This time, he was disguised.
He approached carefully, pretending to browse nearby displays while paying attention to the store owner. After confirming that the man showed no sign of recognizing him, Clark finally relaxed.
Suppressing the excitement rising in his chest, he turned and walked away.
This was an ability he had discovered completely by accident after losing his sight.
For the people closest to him—Chloe and Pete—Clark had already explained his situation. He told them that a strange illness had temporarily affected his vision, and that he didn't know whether it would ever recover.
Both of them had been extremely worried.
Chloe, especially, feared that Clark might fall into depression during the holidays if he believed he would remain blind forever.
Just like before, she asked her editor to keep Clark working as a reporter's assistant.
The goal was simple.
If Clark kept busy and realized he could still contribute, he wouldn't dwell on despair. Work would give him confidence and keep his mind occupied.
Remembering that, Clark couldn't help smiling slightly.
He walked slowly along the street with a guide stick, his posture calm despite his blindness.
Of course, things weren't always easy.
Whenever strangers bumped into him, they often asked what had happened to his eyes.
Clark knew many of them meant well.
Most people were simply showing concern.
"But telling a lie once is already hard enough," Clark thought helplessly.
"Repeating it every time someone asks… that's exhausting."
A faint look of helplessness crossed his face.
Because of that, during the holiday period he often tried to avoid familiar people.
Whenever he saw someone he knew approaching, he would quietly slip away before they noticed him.
At first he believed he was simply getting lucky.
But eventually something strange became clear.
Even when he stood directly in front of someone who knew him, they often didn't recognize him at all.
Clark had no idea when he had gained this ability.
At first he thought his sunglasses were disguising his appearance.
But one day he tested it.
He removed the glasses completely.
Then he even spoke directly to the person.
Still, they didn't recognize him.
The voice and heartbeat he heard confirmed it was someone who knew him well.
Yet somehow they treated him like a stranger.
"Strange…" Clark had thought at the time.
Knock knock.
Clark raised his hand and knocked on a door inside a Metropolis apartment building.
The door opened quickly.
"Clark, you're finally here. Come in!"
Chloe was standing inside.
She was halfway through putting on makeup and combing her hair when she saw him. Immediately, she rushed forward and helped guide him inside the apartment.
"I was starting to worry something happened to you on the way," she said with a relieved sigh.
"This isn't Smallville. Metropolis traffic is crazy."
Clark laughed lightly.
"Don't worry so much, Chloe. You've seen how easily I get around these days."
"I've adapted pretty well."
Chloe folded her arms and looked at him skeptically.
"If you were Pete, I'd assume you were pulling some kind of prank."
She shook her head slightly.
"But after watching you move around normally for the past few days, I guess I believe you."
Clark had adapted to blindness in barely two days.
In fact, he seemed more comfortable navigating the world than people who had been blind for decades.
Even Chloe found it strange.
But after years of knowing Clark, she had become somewhat used to his unusual traits.
"Sometimes," she said casually, "I wonder if you secretly have hypnotic powers."
Clark's heart skipped a beat.
"How do you mean?" he asked carefully.
Chloe sat back down in front of her dressing table and continued brushing her hair while looking at the mirror.
"There's something strange about you," she said thoughtfully.
"You have so many great qualities, yet people constantly overlook you."
Her voice sounded genuinely puzzled.
"Tall, handsome, amazing at sports, excellent grades… you should be the center of attention."
"But somehow people treat you like background decoration."
Clark had always been strangely invisible at Smallville High.
Despite having countless impressive qualities, he rarely stood out socially.
"Speaking of impressive," Clark said quickly, pushing his sunglasses up his nose.
"I think your cousin is truly amazing."
He changed the subject smoothly.
"Why have you never mentioned that Lois Lane is your cousin?"
Chloe froze.
"You know," Clark continued, "having someone in your generation who's more outstanding than you isn't exactly pleasant."
Chloe sighed helplessly and stopped applying makeup.
"…Yeah."
Clark fell silent for a moment.
He understood that feeling very well.
"When will I have the chance to meet her?" he asked.
A thoughtful look appeared on his face.
"Her writing is incredible."
"There's a kind of fearless energy in it—like she's charging straight at danger."
"Reading Lois Lane's articles feels like watching a powerful war dance."
During his period of blindness, Clark had spent much more time reading newspapers.
His world might have become darker, but his perspective had expanded.
Through news reports, he began to see how much suffering existed in the world.
Among all those reporters, Lois Lane stood out the most.
She never hesitated to expose corruption and injustice.
Smack!
Chloe suddenly closed her makeup box.
"She's extremely busy," she said.
Her tone sounded slightly irritated.
"Did you win some major military honor?"
"Do you have hundreds of millions of dollars?"
"Are you a famous celebrity?"
"If not, she probably doesn't have time to meet you."
Clark blinked in confusion.
"…But she also writes about children in war zones," he continued thoughtfully.
"And residents living in dangerous neighborhoods."
"And victims harmed by pollution from giant corporations."
He still hadn't noticed Chloe's growing annoyance.
"I think she's one of the most important reporters in the world."
Clark truly admired Lois Lane's work.
Her stories had opened his eyes to the suffering many people faced.
It was one of the reasons he had decided to start helping others.
For example…
Creating the identity of the "Blue Hood" in Metropolis.
"The only thing I changed was my outfit a little," Clark added thoughtfully.
"And my brother said my costume actually makes me look more like a bank robber."
"…Clark!"
"What?"
Clark jumped slightly.
He couldn't understand why Chloe suddenly shouted.
From the rapid beating of her heart and breathing, it sounded like she was angry.
Being blind created small inconveniences like this.
Although Clark could still use his heat vision, he couldn't read facial expressions or subtle movements anymore.
"Do you have any objections to today's assignment?" Chloe asked sharply.
"We're interviewing Vietnam War veterans."
"Do you think that's too ordinary?"
"No! Of course not!" Clark said quickly, waving his hands.
"Good," Chloe replied.
She shoved a notebook into Clark's arms.
"Then let's go."
…
Bang!
"Don't move!"
"Stay where you are!"
A group of robbers wearing ridiculous animal masks stood on the rooftop of the courthouse.
Several of them held rifles.
At their feet lay an unconscious policewoman.
She had been captured and knocked out.
It was a bold kidnapping.
The officer had been a witness in an important case, and now she had been taken hostage right on top of the courthouse itself.
The gang leader, wearing a monkey mask, held a phone to his ear.
A helicopter waited nearby on the rooftop.
"Don't worry, sir," he said calmly into the phone.
"The policewoman is here."
"We're on the courthouse roof."
On the other end of the call, an elderly man with gray hair sat behind a luxurious desk.
He looked like a successful business executive.
But his eyes flashed with cold calculation.
"She doesn't have any evidence against you anymore, sir," the masked robber continued.
"Very good," the old man said calmly.
"I have an important meeting at one o'clock."
"Finish this quickly."
"Take her onto the helicopter and leave."
"Understood, sir," the robber replied.
"Let that lady go!"
A sudden voice interrupted them.
The robbers spun around instantly.
They expected to see police officers charging onto the rooftop.
Instead, they saw something else.
A young man stood there beneath the sunlight.
He wore a blue T-shirt.
The tall young man had the physique of a classical statue, with broad shoulders and a perfectly straight posture.
His stance was confident.
Behind him, a red cloak fluttered dramatically in the wind.
"Kid," the monkey-masked leader said after a stunned pause.
"Which circus did you escape from?"
He raised his gun and pointed it directly at the newcomer.
The other criminals burst out laughing.
"I'm in a good mood today," the leader continued mockingly.
"I'll give you three seconds to disappear."
"Otherwise?"
The young man didn't move.
His calm response irritated the gang leader.
"Otherwise?" the robber repeated coldly.
He lowered the phone.
"Shoot him."
"Turn him into a sieve!"
Da-da-da-da!
Gunfire erupted instantly.
The robbers laughed wildly as their weapons roared.
Bullets screamed through the air toward the blue-clad figure standing in the sunlight.
"Go to hell, funny boy!"
....
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