Metropolis National Bank.
Gunmen wearing Joker masks stormed into the bank, pistols and submachine guns blazing.
"Nobody move! Get down on the ground!"
Bullets sprayed the ceiling, forcing everyone at the counters to comply.
The criminals trained their weapons on the staff.
"Open the vaults! One false move, and you're dead!"
No one dared resist.
Trembling, the staff quickly unlocked the money vaults and safes.
Bags were stuffed with cash while armed robbers watched for any defiance.
A security guard tried to intervene, but the gunmen fired without hesitation.
Blood splattered across the floor as the guard collapsed.
Boom!
Suddenly, the bank's glass shattered.
A motorcycle crashed through, sending shards flying.
One gunman was hit squarely in the chest, slammed into a glass counter, and fell hard to the ground.
From the wreckage, a figure emerged, clad in a leather jacket and a black stocking over his head, revealing only his mouth and nose.
Even more imposing than the robbers, he casually kicked the motorcycle kickstand upright.
Clark.
"Shoot that bastard!" the lead gunman barked, signaling his companions.
"Bang, bang, bang!" Bullets flew.
Clark, masked and unfazed, caught each round effortlessly.
Within moments, he was behind the shooter, patting him on the shoulder.
The gunman turned, bewildered, and Clark grabbed his barrel, casually displaying the captured bullets.
"Your aim's a little off. Maybe try shooting some balloons next time," Clark mocked, flinging the man across the room.
He collided with the wall and crumpled to the floor.
The remaining criminals opened fire, but the bullets bounced harmlessly off Clark.
Bank staff, initially relieved, quickly realized their savior was chaotic, dangerous, and utterly unstoppable.
Clark approached another gunman, grabbing his clothes with one hand and the pistol with the other.
"Sorry, Jokers. I saw this bank first. The money belongs to me."
He threw the masked gunman to the ground, then collected the bags of stolen cash.
Outside, the police had arrived, fully armed and ready.
A masked figure stepped casually into view.
"Hands up! Drop the bag!" the police chief shouted from behind a patrol car.
Clark ignored him, walking forward.
"Fire!"
Bullets rained down.
Ping, ping, ping—they bounced off him harmlessly.
Heat Vision erupted from his eyes, igniting a police car in a massive explosion.
Shockwaves knocked officers to the ground.
Clark sauntered away with the money, leaving chaos behind.
---
Night, Kent Farm.
Adrian had just hung up the phone with Catwoman when Chloe walked in, clutching a newspaper.
"Today's Daily Planet," she said, handing it to Jonathan and Martha.
"A shooting near Metropolis National Bank. The robbers escaped a storm of bullets. Some say bulletproof vests, but even those couldn't withstand a dozen police guns at once."
Adrian glanced at the paper.
"Judging by his physique, the suspect is Clark," he said calmly.
"Phew!" Jonathan exhaled.
"Adrian, go start the car. I'll put on my jacket."
Martha frowned.
"Jonathan, Clark hasn't taken off the red kryptonite ring. He doesn't want to see us right now. We need to give him time."
Jonathan shook his head.
"We don't have time to wait. Even if we drive around, Adrian and I will eventually find him."
Martha's voice softened.
"Clark is our son. He'll come home when he's ready. Let's have faith in him."
Jonathan finally sighed, conceding.
Adrian, standing with Chloe, mulled over the news.
Robbing a bank? Clark had countless faster, stealthier ways to acquire money.
Why choose this reckless, public method?
Gangs, casinos, even corporate heists—so many options.
But here he was, exposing himself in broad daylight.
Chloe, worried, asked, "Adrian, can I go to Metropolis to find Clark?"
Adrian shook his head.
"No. He's hiding from me. Most of the time would be spent playing hide-and-seek, and I'm not interested."
He softened slightly, adding, "But I will always track Clark, whether he's on the farm or in Metropolis. What my eyes see in Metropolis, I can see here."
Chloe's anxiety eased.
"I'm not going entirely for Clark. Mr. Lionel got me an internship at the Daily Planet. I want to experience it firsthand."
"The Daily Planet?" Adrian raised an eyebrow.
"Do you know someone named Lois Lane? She works there, doesn't she?"
Chloe's eyes widened.
"My cousin?"
"Yes," Adrian said, observing carefully.
"Though she's no longer there. She's… an enhanced version of you, apparently."
Chloe blinked in confusion.
---