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"In fact, your mother doesn't want you to continue investigating."
Benjamin didn't offer any suggestions. Like with the current management of Parker Industries, he knew his son could make far better judgments than he could.
He was simply speaking for them as parents. They knew Clark was incredibly strong, almost to the point where nothing on the planet could confront him head-on. But no matter how powerful he was, they couldn't help but worry.
This incident wasn't aimed at their family, but at Stark Industries. They could have simply stayed out of it. Clark was strong enough to wait for the whole thing to blow over and then step in as Superman to settle everything. There was no need for him to get involved as Clark. This was not only an instinctive parental concern but also because they knew how much Clark cherished his life as an ordinary person. Clark didn't want his Superman identity to interfere with his normal life. Saving the world was as important to him as leading Parker Industries to prosperity.
"I'm sorry, Dad, but this is the one thing I can't promise you." Clark's response was firm.
Benjamin fell silent, as did May, who had just come down the stairs after helping Peter with his homework. They understood why Clark was making this decision. The incident had threatened May's safety, and it wasn't a simple political attack.
Clark wouldn't be so petty as to get involved in a dispute over his mother's political views. But the out-of-control truck had directly endangered her life. He wouldn't ignore that. He would investigate as May's son.
Only if the situation escalated to a superhuman level would he allow Superman to take over. This was a kind of personal rule for him. The world had never connected Superman and Clark, and Clark wanted to keep it that way. Superman was there to protect the world, while Clark was there to protect his family.
"We understand." Benjamin and May nodded, saying nothing more.
Just then, Clark's phone rang. It was Tony. Though they hadn't saved each other's contact information, it wasn't difficult for two powerful men to get each other's number.
"Tomorrow? Got it."
After hanging up, Clark looked at his parents. "I have an update from Stark. I'm going over there tomorrow."
The next day, Clark met Tony again at the gate of his villa.
"Did you find anything?"
Clark and Tony had little in common. One was a serious, steady 14-year-old, and the other was a flashy 37-year-old. The age gap alone meant they had almost no shared interests. In fact, when Clark first arrived, Tony realized this kid, who had saved his life, was nothing like his uncle. If Richard hadn't been an agent and realized Tony wasn't a bad person, he probably wouldn't have continued to associate with him.
"You jump right into business. Is that how you do things at Parker Industries?"
"You know about the company's work environment, don't you?"
The two of them chatted as they walked toward the basement.
Tony was genuinely surprised. "I've heard about 'the devil's eight hours.' Nobody actually works exactly eight hours a day, but in those eight hours, your employees are able to squeeze out almost a full day's worth of value. How do you even do that?"
Clark's reply was simple. "It's easy. You just have to assign each person a workload that matches their full ability for every single hour of the day. The rest is about the money."
This made it sound like he was just using money as a motivator, but Tony knew better. Monetary incentives could spark people's drive, but once that drive faded, they would become lazy, and it would take even more money to get them going again. The real key was Clark's earlier statement: assigning a precise workload for every hour of every day.
This was a manager's fantasy, yet Clark had made it a reality. Tony couldn't imagine the horrific workload Clark himself must endure every day to make that happen. It wasn't something a human could do, unless Clark also had an AI assistant.
Even with an AI, it would still be a huge challenge to perfectly understand the capabilities of every employee. It would mean that Clark, as the top manager, would need to know the strengths and weaknesses of every employee before making such a large number of assignments with the AI's help.
"Do you have an AI too?" Tony asked.
"No..." Clark replied. Kryptonian technology could even replicate personalities, so an AI would be nothing, but Clark still told the truth. He didn't use one.
"Then how do you do it?"
Clark was silent for a moment, then shook his head. "It's a secret." Of course, he couldn't say he was Superman. But this did make him realize that his behavior was conspicuous, and he should probably create a virtual persona to cover his tracks someday.
Tony wouldn't pry. If someone asked him how he made Jarvis, he wouldn't answer, either. But he offered his assessment. "You're really something. Much better than your father, a natural capitalist saint." Being able to maximize every worker's value was the mark of a true capitalist. In the eyes of other capitalists, Clark's biggest flaw was probably that he paid his employees fairly, according to their worth.
They finally arrived in the basement, where Clark saw that Tony's laboratory was filled with various weapons.
"So this is your plan." The weapons covered every aspect of modern warfare. While there were no weapons of mass destruction like missiles, there were upgraded versions of all military equipment.
"The organization that attacked me is called the Ten Rings, a terrorist group active in the Middle East. But I've decided to use their own methods against them. I'm going to hire international mercenaries to catch those bastards in one fell swoop!"