After Clark got up, he went downstairs.
As soon as he sat down at the dining table, he noticed Eric holding a green meteorite.
Clark, who had an "allergic reaction" to the meteorite, suddenly stood up and backed away.
"Eric, the meteorite in your hand?!"
Clark's eyes were filled with shock, and many associations instantly unfolded.
Could Eric be controlled by Ms. Aikins, like those men she lured, to deal with him?
Eric didn't notice Clark's expression and casually threw the meteorite onto the table. "Recently, many fake and shoddy meteorites have been popular in Smallville, being sold as souvenirs to outsiders."
"This is fake?"
Clark carefully reached out and touched the meteorite.
There was no special reaction.
"Selling fake meteorite fragments to outsiders, that's Hamilton's business."
Martha brought oatmeal from the kitchen and said to the two of them.
"Hamilton?"
"The 'Meteorite Man' of Smallville. Your father is probably one of the people with the worst relationship with him in Smallville."
Jonathan, who was just coming in from outside, immediately denied his wife's words upon hearing them.
"Actually, I don't know him. It's just that Hamilton insists that the absurd things in Smallville over the years were not caused by LuthorCorp's pollution, but are related to meteorites. You know, I've always disagreed with that view."
Eric repeated Hamilton's name, clasped his hands together, resting his chin on them, and fell into thought.
Sunday.
Outside Smallville.
An old warehouse stood in the wilderness.
Eric stood at the entrance, observed the general situation inside with his x-ray vision, then walked to the door and gently pushed open the warehouse's iron door.
"Creak!"
As the heavy iron door was pushed open, he entered the gloomy and dim room.
Insulating panels blocked the sunlight from outside, with only a few incandescent lights illuminating the dim environment.
Green meteorites were placed on the shelves and in the cabinets inside the room, and experimental tools such as microscopes were on the experimental table.
If someone unaware of the situation were to enter, their first impression would likely be a mad scientist's laboratory.
Eric walked to a shelf and stared at the green meteorite placed on it.
The moment he slowly reached out to touch it, he was stopped by a not-so-friendly voice.
"Don't touch it!"
Eric turned around. A thin middle-aged man walked over, holding a wooden box, and warned Eric: "Don't touch it. Your hands aren't disinfected, and you're not me!"
Putting the wooden box on the ground, the middle-aged man casually closed the door.
"Don't you have a website?"
"What?"
"Generally speaking, only weirdos with their own websites find me."
The middle-aged man clapped the dust off his hands and asked Eric: "So you're one of those weirdos too?"
"I probably have nothing to do with weirdos."
Facing the not-so-friendly middle-aged man, Eric's tone was also not friendly. "I heard that there's someone around here selling plastic meteorite fragments to tourists. I guess that person is you, Dr. Hamilton?"
He said, walking towards the green meteorite with a label on the shelf, "Just like this stone I'm about to touch."
He reached out and touched the meteorite. "I can feel that it's not a real meteorite."
Dr. Hamilton's expression became a few shades more serious. "Who are you?"
"Eric Kent."
Eric walked in front of Dr. Hamilton. "I'm very interested in your research."
"Hmmph."
Dr. Hamilton nodded thoughtfully. "I know you, a Kent child, right? I think you should go to the school laboratory and see if they need a chemistry lab assistant. Maybe that could be fun for you. I'm just a mineralogist. There's nothing here to attract curious students like you."
"Mineralogist?"
Eric smiled slightly. "I don't think a mineralogist would have access to the first moon rock brought back by Apollo."
"That was hundreds of years ago. At that time, I was still a respected scientist, but times change, fate is unpredictable, and even scientists can become miners in a town. Isn't that normal?"
Shaking his head, Hamilton walked to the dilapidated experimental bench, poured out the dirt-covered stones from the box, and without bothering with Eric, who was standing nearby, he began to pick them with his dark hands.
Eric frowned slightly, not expecting this old man to be more eccentric than he had imagined.
Ever since he learned that there was such a "Meteorite Man" in Smallville, he had been paying attention to him.
He had already collected a lot of Krypton meteorites, but he had little idea of how meteorites stimulated and enhanced the superpowers of ordinary people, such as the mind-controlling gas produced in Akins's body.
After some investigation, Eric had identified Dr. Hamilton as a target after confirming that he had in-depth research on Kryptonite.
"Dr. Hamilton, I've read your article. The theory that meteorites can change cell structure is truly eye-opening."
Eric walked over and looked at the minerals on the experimental table, his tone still unhurried. "My body has developed some strange symptoms, and I've always suspected whether it was caused by meteorites. That's why I've become interested in your research, Doctor. If it could be funded, I believe it would lead to discoveries that would shock the entire scientific community."
Hearing Eric's words, Hamilton's mouth curved into a smile, but it quickly faded.
"I'm glad to hear you say that, but I don't believe a student can provide any funding for my experiments."
"Why are you so certain?"
Eric's expression remained unchanged, still serious.
Although his face was somewhat young, the aura and expression he exuded subconsciously intimidated Dr. Hamilton.
"I have some spare money, don't worry, it has nothing to do with my parents. I want to establish an institution to study meteorites, to research the mysteries of Smallville's meteorites. And Dr. Hamilton, you are the person I want. I can fund you, and even build a more professional laboratory for you, even though what I currently have is just a high school biology laboratory."
Eric said, picking up a test tube containing a green solution from the experimental table, "And what you give in return are the research results. You get fame, I get profit, a very normal transaction, isn't it?"
Hamilton was silent for a moment, then asked Eric: "Why should I believe you?"
"Then you'd rather sell tourist stones here to raise funds than try? If you change your mind, contact me directly."
After leaving Hamilton's warehouse, Eric immediately fell into thought.
The gold and precious metals he had acquired from the Owl Council to raise funds could finally be sold.
So where would be suitable to sell them?
A name instantly flashed through his mind: Gotham!
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