"Andy has dropped the charges against Mr. Kent."
Kent Farm.
Jonathan, Martha, Clark, and the female officer who had arrested him stood in the living room discussing the recent events. Adrian remained upstairs in his room.
The female officer addressed Jonathan and Martha, "You're fortunate. Had the legal process continued, your lawsuit would likely have failed, but an unexpected development changed things."
"What kind of development?" Jonathan asked, puzzled.
"Last night, there was a violent incident in an apartment on Shell Street. No, 'violent' doesn't fully capture it; perhaps 'chaotic actions after a mental breakdown' fits better. It may have been due to intoxication, or a minor trigger that escalated quickly. In any case, people were attacked—some injured, some dead."
She glanced briefly at the silent Clark. "Including Andy Hawkins, the man who accused your son."
"I can't believe this is mere coincidence, Mr. Kent," the officer added, walking toward Clark while twirling her hat. "Just as I can't believe it's coincidence that you often appear at crime scenes, Mr. Clark Kent. I'll be keeping an eye on you."
Placing her hat back on her head, the officer gave Clark a final warning before leaving the room.
"Clark?" Martha's voice was gentle but inquisitive. Though she trusted her son, she couldn't hide the worry in her eyes.
"I don't know, Mom." Clark looked up at her, voice steady. "I've been doing community service all day, picking up trash. As for this incident… I'm as clueless as anyone."
Though Clark suspected Adrian had handled the situation, he refused to expose him in front of their parents.
Jonathan approached and squeezed Clark's shoulder. "Clark knows when to do what's right."
After talking with his parents, Clark sank onto the sofa, staring out at the night sky, a mix of relief and unease on his face. Escaping a million-dollar crisis felt good, yet he couldn't shake a subtle discomfort. He was grateful for Adrian's help, but this kind of action still felt dangerously wrong.
Later, Clark went upstairs and knocked on Adrian's door.
"So you did that, Clark?" Adrian's voice was calm.
"No, I just think—" Clark hesitated, unsure how to phrase his concern. "You didn't need to go to such lengths. It put you at risk. We'll always live here in Smallville, won't we?"
What he wanted to say—"You shouldn't have hurt people"—never fully formed. Instead, he found himself strangely accepting of Adrian's actions. Perhaps he had grown more tolerant of his brother's methods, even approving of them. Still, it felt dangerous.
Before he could clarify, Adrian spoke: "Clark, I have no psychological burden over eliminating threats directly, but I'll admit one thing: I handled Andy Hawkins. Other incidents were not your expectation, nor entirely mine."
Clark rubbed his nose awkwardly, understanding Adrian didn't want to discuss it further. He wisely let the subject drop.
"Regardless, Adrian, I must thank you." Clark finally spoke, gratitude sincere despite his disapproval of his brother's methods.
The next morning, Adrian finished breakfast and prepared for school when an unexpected call arrived.
"Adrian Kent, that's the person I'm looking for," said a lazy, alluring female voice.
"Selina Kyle?" Adrian's brow furrowed at the familiar tone.
"I feared I'd lost you, Miss Selina. Can you explain why you've been silent?" Adrian asked.
"Of course. That's why I'm calling. You know how fishing works—you can't just reel in too soon or you'll catch nothing. Understand, my Master?" Catwoman's voice drew out the final word teasingly.
Adrian glanced at Jonathan and Martha, ensuring they weren't paying attention, and lowered his voice. "I heard Bruce Wayne was attacked and hospitalized. What happened?"
"Bruce once got close to uncovering the Court of Owls' secret palace, but a deeper power stopped him. Batman—disguised as a city detective—thrives on twists. They call themselves the League of Assassins. Have you heard of them?"
"League of Assassins?" Adrian frowned. He knew the organization well. This ancient villain group had numerous members and aliases: the Ninja Master, Talia al Ghul, and Malcolm Merlyn among them. Their leader, the Demon's Head, maintains an immortal reputation through the Lazarus Pit. Adrian hadn't expected the Court of Owls and the League to be connected.
Holding the receiver, Adrian thought back to documents from the Metropolis Owl Council—he had found no reference to the League.
"Adrian, are you listening? I haven't heard from you in over thirty seconds. Cats are terribly impatient," Catwoman purred.
"So Bruce was attacked by someone from the League?" Adrian asked cautiously.
"I don't know. They disguise themselves completely, whether as League assassins or Owls' assassins. To me, it's the same," she replied.
Adrian hung up, contemplating the situation. He had hoped to benefit from the chaos between Bruce and the Court of Owls, but the League of Assassins' appearance complicated everything. Gotham was dangerous—normal people couldn't survive there without being extraordinary. For once, he silently hoped Batman would make it through.
After the call, Adrian headed to school.
Football was the most popular sport at Smallville High, though basketball and baseball had strong followings as well. Clark's favorite Thursday activity was the "Basketball 2V2 Challenge." He teamed with Pete but shot from a distance to avoid injuring anyone, earning him the nickname "softie."
As they passed the baseball field's wire fence, a home-run baseball flew directly toward Adrian's head.
With keen perception, Adrian caught the ball effortlessly. The baseball team members cheered at the display, astonished by his reflexes. Casually, Adrian crushed the ball in his hand and tossed it back across the field, causing stunned silence among the team and spectators.
"Wow, an incredible home run!" someone exclaimed.
Clark, Chloe, and Pete watched. Pete sighed in admiration. Chloe giggled. "It's funny, but that's Adrian's style. Don't provoke him—he always strikes back unexpectedly."
Clark simply shrugged. "I know that feeling well."
Clark turned to the coach. "Is he new? I remember the last one differently."
"The previous coach died in a lawnmower accident, and the one before fell into a river. Our baseball team is famous for misfortune; we call it the 'Baseball Team Chasing Death.'"
Pete looked around enviously. "I just hope this coach has better luck."
____
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