On the way home, Victor stopped briefly at a department store and bought several bottles of tattoo ink. The cashier barely glanced at him as he paid, unaware that the small purchase might become part of a much larger experiment. Victor slipped the bottles into a paper bag and continued walking down the quiet street.
As he passed a street corner, a plastic bottle suddenly flew toward him from somewhere behind. Victor casually caught it out of the air without even looking, his reflexes moving faster than conscious thought.
When he glanced across the intersection, something unexpected caught his attention.
The small-town hospital stood on the opposite street, but it looked completely different from the way he remembered. Workers were moving in and out of the building while loud construction noise echoed through the evening air. Renovation lights illuminated the entrance, and trucks loaded with materials were parked along the curb.
Above the doorway hung a brand-new gilded sign.
Wayne Group — Smallville Hospital.
Victor raised his eyebrows slightly when he saw the words.
The Wayne Group was one of the most powerful corporate giants in Gotham, a family enterprise that had existed for centuries. It was famous for its massive influence, philanthropic foundations, and deep involvement in Gotham's infrastructure.
But that was Gotham.
Smallville was an inconspicuous rural town.
It made no sense for Wayne Group to suddenly invest here.
"Avery…"
Victor murmured quietly.
Whenever he and Clark traveled to Gotham, they were extremely careful to conceal their identities. Neither of them wanted to attract the attention of a certain paranoid vigilante who spent his nights plotting in a cave and investigating anyone who seemed unusual.
Avoiding unnecessary trouble was the entire reason they kept their lives centered around this quiet farm town.
Unfortunately, there had once been someone from Smallville who did the exact opposite.
A certain reckless individual had stormed into Gotham and caused a spectacular disturbance without bothering to hide his identity at all.
Victor's expression remained calm as he lightly tossed the bottle of ink in his hand.
"Bruce Wayne probably traced Avery back here," he thought.
Batman's personality was notoriously suspicious. Whenever he encountered something strange, his instinct was always to assume the worst possible explanation first and investigate it relentlessly.
A town where unusual incidents happened frequently would certainly draw his attention.
Standing silently at the street corner, Victor watched the construction site for a few seconds before turning away.
…
"Victor, you killed Whitney?"
Clark had slept until dawn after collapsing from exhaustion the night before. When he woke up, Victor was nowhere to be seen. The moment Victor returned to the farm later that morning, Clark immediately intercepted him outside the warehouse.
Victor looked at him calmly.
"That's correct," he said without hesitation.
Clark's face stiffened.
"You shouldn't forget who caused that situation," Victor continued.
Clark's anger faltered for a moment.
"Whitney… probably only wanted to scare us," Clark said slowly. "I don't think he really intended to hurt Mom and Dad."
He still couldn't believe Whitney would go so far as to kill someone.
At the beginning, Whitney had only come looking for a fight.
But now he was dead.
"I'm not like a certain bat who spends all day guarding criminals," Victor replied indifferently as he walked past Clark toward the house. "But unlike you, I don't place unrealistic hopes on people."
Clark turned and followed him.
"Victor—"
Victor didn't slow down.
"When a person is consumed by jealousy and anger," he said coldly, "anything becomes possible."
When it came to protecting their parents, even the slightest risk was unacceptable.
"Victor!" Clark shouted suddenly.
Victor stopped.
"You said before that Mom and Dad wouldn't die after taking that metal," Clark said. "They weren't actually in danger at all."
Victor slowly turned around.
Clark realized too late that his words had come out wrong.
"What do you mean by that?" Victor asked quietly.
His voice was calm, but the pressure in the air felt like a silent storm building beneath a still ocean.
"I… that's not what I meant," Clark said hurriedly.
Victor stepped closer and jabbed a finger sharply into Clark's chest.
"I brought the Dionysus factor back to our parents so they would never have to face danger like before," he said coldly.
Another step forward.
"Not so that you could feel better about your endless sympathy for criminals."
Clark felt the words hit him like a heavy hammer.
Victor turned and walked into the house without another glance.
Clark stood there for a long moment, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
"Damn it," he muttered. "Why did I say something like that?"
From the doorway, Victor glanced back briefly at Clark standing under the warehouse lights.
He shook his head slightly.
Clark was more mature than most teenagers his age, but occasionally he still behaved like an impulsive eighteen-year-old high school student.
…
The next morning sunlight poured through the tall windows of a luxurious castle-like mansion.
Golden light illuminated the room as Akins sat behind a desk, staring at her reflection in a mirror with obvious delight. A satisfied smile curved across her lips as she admired the flawless beauty now staring back at her.
"My dear," Luther said from nearby, his voice warm with admiration. "Even Helen of Troy would feel ashamed standing next to you."
He stood beside her like a devoted butler.
"If the Greek prince Paris had seen you back then," he continued, "he would never have struggled to decide which goddess deserved the golden apple."
"You always speak like that, Lex," Akins said softly with a pleased smile.
After charming several bodyguards and having them make wishes on her behalf, her appearance had become perfect beyond imagination. Every part of her body looked like the masterpiece of a divine sculptor.
Her voice sounded clear and enchanting, almost like the irresistible song of a siren.
Luther had also gained what he wanted.
Since making his wish, his mind felt as though a new door had opened. Scientific ideas and complex theories poured into his thoughts endlessly like a spring that could never run dry.
"Although…" Akins said slowly.
A trace of regret appeared in her eyes.
It was a pity Luther was bald.
No matter how elegant his words were, the gleaming reflection of his smooth head under the morning sunlight constantly disrupted the atmosphere.
"My charm can deceive others," she thought irritably. "But I can't deceive myself."
Now that she had almost everything she desired, it was time to enjoy her new life.
The first thing Akins planned to do was find two handsome young men to serve her like a queen.
"Luthor," she said thoughtfully, "you already have the greatest scientific mind in the world. Why not wish to become the most handsome man alive and stay by my side?"
Luther shook his head gently.
"Beauty and handsomeness are subjective things," he said.
"It would be impossible to determine who the most handsome person in the world truly is."
He paused before continuing.
"And besides…"
Although the charm affecting him clouded his judgment slightly, his nature remained cautious.
"The wish stone appears capable of granting unlimited wishes," he said slowly. "That makes it almost too perfect to believe."
"For now," he concluded, "it's better to proceed carefully."
Akins waved dismissively.
"Suit yourself."
She picked up the wish stone and slipped it into her bag before standing up.
For the moment, the power and beauty she possessed were more than enough to satisfy her.
Even though she now held a stone capable of granting any wish imaginable, she had no interest in conquering the world just yet.
"Maybe later," she thought.
"If I ever get bored of this small town."
At that point, she might wish to become a queen or something equally grand.
But for now…
She intended to visit the Town Garden.
Akins slowly licked her lips, her eyes glowing with anticipation.
She planned to find two handsome young men there and bring them back to serve her like loyal attendants.
....
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