The Metal That Grants Superpowers

Chapter 110: Metal That Can Grant Superpowers

David wasn't interested in Clark's proposal.

He just wanted to protect his family. He had no intention of becoming a superhero like Clark, rushing around for strangers, constantly facing misunderstanding and suspicion, and even occasional moral blackmail.

"Besides, putting everything else aside, you've never liked my methods.

I'm afraid that not long after this so-called vigilante team is formed, you'll end up fighting me to stop me from doing something."

David stood up from the lounge chair and glanced at Clark.

"I don't want Mom and Dad to worry seeing us fight each other."

He patted Clark's shoulder.

"So... let's just forget it."

Clark, holding his coffee, fell silent for a moment.

His brother had broken into a military base to save him, yet he himself didn't want his brother to harm the soldiers firing at him. He had wanted them to leave quickly to prevent more people from dying under his brother's hand. Had he been a bit excessive?

"Do you remember Lex Luthor?"

"I remember."

Clark looked up, not understanding why David suddenly brought this up.

He had saved Lex Luthor's life. If it weren't for the pickup truck Lex had given him, he wouldn't have learned about his own origins so quickly by chance.

"Lex hasn't been appearing in town recently. His father, Lionel Luthor, had a car accident not long ago, and Lex took over his father's corporation. He must be overwhelmed by grief and the company's affairs."

Clark showed a hint of sympathy.

"I'm not asking about the news that's already been reported in the papers."

David shook his head.

Luthor's condition yesterday had been a bit strange, making it hard not to be concerned.

He was a genius in technology. The armor he invented, while not facing Superman, was quite powerful.

But the lifelike androids from yesterday far surpassed current human technology. It shouldn't have been something the young Luthor could have created.

"Now that things are over, you've had all night to recall yesterday's events.

You should be able to see that what happened yesterday was a conspiracy targeting you."

David spoke of what he had seen yesterday.

"I saw Luthor at the military base yesterday. I suspect he was the mastermind behind the plan, using a train full of people as bait to lure you into a trap."

Clark's brow furrowed instantly, his face showing recollection.

"Yesterday, the voice I heard sounded very familiar, even with the distortion from the loudspeaker.

Thinking back now, it did sound a bit like Lex."

In fact, after recalling and comparing, he was ninety-nine percent sure.

Nearly a thousand lives were on that train. It was hard to believe someone could be so insane, especially someone whose life he had saved. It made him feel terrible.

"However, it didn't seem to be him in the base yesterday."

No heartbeat, no blood flow... it couldn't be a normal living being.

"That was just a robot."

David nodded, confirming his discovery.

"A robot?"

"David, what do you want me to do?"

Clark, listening to his brother, guessed that he must have something for him to do.

"Keep an eye on Luthor. I promised yesterday that I'd make sure he'd live in the gutters in the shadows forever.

But I have more important things to do than watch him for now."

"As long as he appears in public in his robot form, destroy him."

Clark wouldn't easily kill someone, but Luthor wouldn't dare to show his real self in public again.

"No problem."

Hearing his brother actually ask him for a favor, Clark eagerly agreed.

"But, speaking of which, this whole thing started because of me." His shoulders sagged slightly.

If it was just a robot, he wouldn't have any psychological burden. He would investigate whether Luthor planned yesterday's events and if people had actually planted bombs.

"Once I find the evidence, I won't just keep an eye on him; I'll personally send Luthor to prison."

Clark clenched his fist.

"That guy is very cunning.

You might not be able to find him."

David shook his head, not optimistic about Superman's ability to easily find evidence, "Especially since the military was involved in that matter."

"..."

Clark fell silent. He wasn't a naive child and understood that involving officials and politics would complicate things. After all, the judges who handled cases and passed sentences were part of the vast machine known as the federal government.

"Speaking of the military, I need to visit someone before I go on vacation."

David muttered to himself.

The mutable Prometheus Metal could grant superpowers. He glanced around the room, his eyes flickering.

"Visit who?"

...

In America, in the state of Mexico, a five-story modern villa sat by a lake. It was a white, disc-shaped building that exuded streamlined beauty and high-tech appeal from top to bottom.

"Southeast Sector A4 is all clear."

A black-clad elite bodyguard led a hound through the lakeside jungle, constantly communicating via a miniature earpiece about any abnormalities.

"B14 clear..."

The security here surpassed that of a small nation's president.

This was because the owner of the lakeside villa was one of the wealthiest men in the world, Steve Dayton. He was a renowned industrial tycoon, whose group of companies spanned various industries such as military, medical, automotive, and rockets, with factories spread across the globe.

Inside the laboratory.

Steve Dayton, appearing middle-aged, looked as if he hadn't slept for days, his hair a messy bird's nest and dark circles under his eyes. This was a stark contrast to his usual suave, energetic, and slightly aggressive image that graced interview covers.

His eyes were bloodshot, but his exhaustion couldn't hide his excitement.

"It's done, my masterpiece."

After completing the final solder point, he removed his goggles and gazed at the helmet before him as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.

On the lab bench lay a silver titanium alloy helmet, resembling a common ski helmet. However, only Steve Dayton, its creator, knew the technology it contained.

It delved into the most mysterious domain of humanity—the brain and the mind.

"As long as one wears it, it can enhance brain function, stimulate mental energy, and achieve abilities like telepathy and even mind control."

His painstaking effort had finally borne fruit. Staring at the helmet, Steve felt a dry throat and grabbed the nearby water cup, gulping it down. He wiped his mouth forcefully and extended his hands, preparing to try it on.

"Steve Dayton, you not only have a formidable business acumen, but you're also a rare genius inventor."

A young, magnetic voice suddenly echoed.

"But isn't this a bit reckless?"

Startled like a frightened rabbit, Steve spun around. A young figure leaned against the wall with arms crossed, observing him with a relaxed and casual air.

It was as if this wasn't his underground secret laboratory, built at a cost of over a hundred million dollars, but the entrance to some random supermarket on the street.

The person's body emitted a deep purple light, making him appear like a purple humanoid celestial body.

"Purple Light Man?"

Seeing an intruder in his lab, Steve's pupils contracted. He quickly put on the helmet from the table and pressed a button. A red light flashed from the helmet's seams, and he breathed a slight sigh of relief, regaining some confidence. He chuckled, "I didn't bring Superman here. What are you looking for me for?"

"You know me?"

David hadn't considered debuting as a superhero yet, so he didn't care about the casual nickname "Purple Light Man."

"I only appeared before everyone yesterday. It seems you've always paid attention to supernatural things?"

He glanced at the helmet Steve had just invented on his head.

"Of course."

His palms began to sweat. Steve maintained his smile, secretly attempting to use the helmet's amplified mental power to read David's mind.

Why is this monster, who could single-handedly conquer a military base and defeat the Zero Armor, looking for me?

But after much effort, sweat breaking out on his forehead and his face contorting as if constipated, he couldn't read anything.

"Did my mental enhancement helmet fail? Impossible!"

Steve's eyes widened, unable to accept that his years of research were a failure.

"Your helmet is fine, it's just too weak."

David's casual remark darkened Steve's expression.

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