amaotonovel Chapter 4319 Body of Steel (24)
Chapter 4319 Body of Steel (24)
Chapter 4319 Body of Steel (Twenty-Four)
Clark, watching from outside the screen, was also stunned. He scratched his head and said, "How come these two... I mean, how come they suddenly have superpowers? Or were they just pretending before?"
He himself didn't believe his last theory. Firstly, it's impossible for the two of them to remain undetected after being nearly captured by humans; more importantly, judging from their expressions, they were also unaware—there were no outsiders on the spaceship, so there was no need to continue pretending. Therefore, they were completely unaware that they had gained superpowers.
Suddenly, Clark remembered what Bruce had said: every Kryptonian has this talent; the only difference is whether or not they have found the key.
He also recalled that the difference between these two and other Kryptonians was that they came to Earth, were beaten up by humans, and came into contact with the green powder that made people weak.
Is emerald powder the key?
Could this gemstone powder make them suffer first, but then make them stronger? Why didn't I become stronger?
The only explanation Clark could think of was that they had only inhaled some, while he had been injected with a drug. The efficiency would definitely be much higher, so the period of weakness would be longer; perhaps he would become stronger after the weakness ended.
Clark started rubbing his forehead again, because things had become too complicated—if this seemingly weakening gemstone powder could actually strengthen aliens, how would things develop from there?
Wait a minute, right now, the news about the "Snake of Frini" is all over the internet, and Louise has completely achieved the publicity effect she wanted. These Kryptonians aren't internet addicts; they'll definitely find out about this too.
However, they discovered that their kin, after coming into contact with this powder, although they experienced temporary discomfort, quickly became stronger, so they would definitely not let this thing go.
Soon, the Metropolitan Museum of Art will exhibit the original of this artifact—the military will want it, other forces will want it, and even aliens won't let it go; it'll definitely turn into a complete mess.
Clark jumped to his feet. He put down his coffee cup and said, "No, I have to go back to the Metropolis."
Bruce didn't stop him, watching his figure disappear out the window. After a while, the coffee machine beeped, and the aroma of coffee once again filled the empty Wayne Manor.
A figure walked around from behind the sofa, put down his coffee cup, sat down, and unbuttoned his suit jacket. Bruce glanced in his direction.
"You have excellent taste in choosing beans."
"Clark chose it."
“I was surprised he didn’t pour the cat food in.”
"Soon."
Bruce sat up straight and looked at the man opposite him. He was wearing a well-tailored suit, his hair was neatly combed, and his gray eyes behind his glasses looked somewhat dull.
“You have surgical experience,” Bruce said.
"I'd say it's something, but not very sophisticated," the other person nodded.
"But you're not a doctor."
"I'm not."
“You’re very contradictory,” Bruce continued, staring at him. “You’re like a hybrid, with too many traits that shouldn’t be there. Who are you, really?”
"I can't answer that question. I can only tell you that I have no ill intentions towards you. I do have my reasons for coming here, but they won't harm you."
"Your very existence is dangerous."
“I have never denied that.”
“And you packaged that as an allure,” Bruce said, shaking his head slightly. “Many people must have lost their lives because of it.”
"And this has nothing to do with you. You no longer want to be a hero, so even if the world is on fire, you have no obligation to put it out. Just like what you're doing now, you could have stopped me, but you just stood by and watched."
“I don’t need to stop you,” Bruce said, lowering his eyes. “This job isn’t right for me, so I’ve decided to hand it over to Clark.”
"Do you think he can stop me?"
“You want him to stop you, Schiller.”
Schiller suddenly laughed. He stood up, as if suddenly extricating himself from a sentimental state, and buttoned up his suit jacket. Then he said, "I know you probably won't have time to attend the exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, so I brought you a little something to mark our meeting."
He took out a small box and placed it on the table. Bruce didn't open it, but he already guessed what it was. He suddenly looked up and stared coldly at Schiller.
"Don't be nervous, this is a necessary step for Batman. You'll find it yourself without me."
With that, he turned and left. Bruce stared at the box. Outside the windows of Wayne Manor, a thin layer of snow had accumulated on the ground, reflecting sunlight into the pointed Gothic windows. When the sunlight fell on the box, a faint green light shone through the cracks.
Clark flew back to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and wandered around like a headless fly. He wanted to evacuate the ordinary people there, but he knew that if he did so before anything happened, he would seem like a madman; but by the time something happened, it would be too late to evacuate.
Suddenly, he remembered that Diana seemed to work here. He immediately took out his phone, dialed a number, and said, "It's me, Clark. No, I'm not in any danger. I just wanted to know if you work at the Metropolitan Museum of Art? There might be a war going on here, I need to... Okay, I'll come get it."
Clark flew to Diana's apartment, carefully avoiding everyone, and once inside, he found Diana's work ID.
He grabbed his work badge and headed straight to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. At the front desk, he handed over his badge and said, "Hello, I'm looking for Diana Prince. Is she in?"
"Oh, what's your relationship to her?"
“I’m a reporter from Planet Daily. She promised me an exclusive interview about the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s ancient Egyptian culture and collections and left me this press pass. But I can’t get through to her on the phone. Could you help me find her?”
"I'm sorry, sir, this shows that Ms. Prince took leave a few days ago."
"What? But I already told the editor-in-chief that I wanted her on the front page..."
Are you a reporter from Planet Daily?
“Yes. I was originally a reporter for the news section, but as you know, there was a scandal recently involving the royal family swapping artifacts, and our editor-in-chief asked me to focus on this matter…”
"Please wait a moment." The receptionist made a phone call. Soon, a man dressed as a manager came out, shook hands with Clark, and said, "Hello, are you Mr. Kent?"
“Yes, this is my business card.” Clark handed the card to the manager and said, “I didn’t expect Ms. Prince to stand me up. This is really troublesome. Our editor-in-chief finally managed to secure the space…”
"It's like this, sir. Ms. Prince does have some urgent business and has to take leave to return to her hometown. But the Metropolitan Museum of Art has many excellent staff members, especially since we will be exhibiting the 'Serpent of Fringe' from the British Museum the day after tomorrow. This artifact has been in the news recently, and I think it deserves a front-page spot on your website, doesn't it?"
"My goodness, you'd really like to give me an exclusive interview before the artifacts arrive?! That would be wonderful!"
"I'm sorry, that's definitely not possible. For the safety of the cultural relics, we cannot disclose any information about them in advance. However, we can arrange for you to enter early on the day of the opening and give you a good seat near the front."
“If it’s just like that, we probably won’t get the front page. We’re the news section…” Clark seemed a little hesitant.
“This is going to be big news.” The manager paused, then continued, “At that time, the exhibits will be on display, and reporters from all the major newspapers will line up to photograph every detail. You know, there are still people who don’t believe they’re genuine. Then the audience will be there, documenting the spectacle. Oh, and security will be there; we guarantee those low-class tabloids won’t be able to get in…”
Clark silently noted down the location he was told, mentally considering how to evacuate the crowd. The aliens probably wouldn't use the main entrance; there was a floor-to-ceiling window to the right of the exhibit, and if they broke it open, someone might get cut by the glass.
Clark cleared his throat and said, "That's good. You know, we only want exclusive and rare news. But there's a problem: are you planning to block that side?"
Clark pointed to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The manager paused for a moment, then said, "Of course not, the natural light over there will give the exhibits a softer look..."
"No, no, no, I think you should still block it. It's not for any other reason than that this matter has become such a big deal, and it's impossible to get tickets online. If people who can't get tickets start pushing and shoving through the glass, and reporters take pictures of the museum in such a chaotic state, wouldn't that be unprofessional?"
The manager slapped his forehead and said, "That's right, I'll send someone to block that area tomorrow. We can't let them crowd there; it's too uncivilized."
Clark glanced at the spiral staircase next to him. Those aliens were wearing armor, so climbing the stairs wouldn't be easy, but they could jump into the adjacent atrium. But sealing off the atrium wouldn't be easy either.
Forget it, if I jump in from that side, there will still be some distance between me and the exhibit I'm currently on. I can then lead the crowd towards the main entrance, and there shouldn't be any casualties.
As for cultural relics, with the "Serpent of Frigan" as a precedent, his assessment of the value of other cultural relics dropped significantly. As long as the people are safe, it's fine; if a cultural relic is lost, it can be rebuilt, no major problem.
As Clark pondered these thoughts, he politely said goodbye to the manager. He still had some things to prepare before the event began. However, just as he stepped out the door, Louise called.
"You're back?" Clark said with some surprise. "Okay, I know. I'll come pick you up now."
After picking up Louise from the airport, the drive back was during rush hour, and passing through the city center, there was some traffic. Clark couldn't help but tell her about his experiences over the past few days, which Louise listened to with frequent nods. Clark was also a little proud: as long as he put his mind to it, he could still get a few things done.
But when Louise heard that Clark was going to enter the exhibition as a reporter to maintain order, she shook her head. "You're still too naive, Mr. Small Town," she said. "Do you really think the stuff being shipped to the venue will be genuine?"
A series of question marks popped into Clark's head again. He said, "But wasn't that thing a fake to begin with?"
"But it came from the British Museum, endorsed by collectors, and recognized by the royal family. It's also set with the most important gemstones. It's valuable, so it's definitely genuine."
"So you mean this won't be the one on display that day?"
"Of course. Since, as you say, everyone will want it, waiting until the day of the exhibition to snatch it only proves that you don't have enough connections. The truly capable ones can replace the collection before it enters the museum."
Clark's mouth dropped open. He said, "But, but how do we replace it? Schiller can't just make another one, can he?"
Louise shook her head and said, "The mural isn't important; what's important is the gem. We can just replace it with a fake one."
"Okay, but even if the gems are switched, not everyone will know, and they'll still try to steal them, right? So I still have to go."
“You still don’t understand,” Louise sighed. “Everyone wants the real gem, and every faction wants to steal it before it enters the museum, even aliens. So, they’ll all go after the person who can steal it. Why not just take them down and get the gem?”
Clark suddenly realized, and said, "You mean, they're going to find Schiller?! He..."
Before he could finish speaking, a violent explosion erupted from the nearby Luther Hotel. With a deafening roar, the entire building was cleaved in two and slowly crashed down onto the road.
None of these old bats are easy to deal with.
(End of this chapter)