The desolate and bleak winter arrived as expected. The gray brick walls of the cemetery turned a dark azure under the infiltration of snow water. The layers of Gothic roof ornaments were covered with snow, whiter than white. The dense branches of deciduous trees created a blanket of gray in the distance. The moon merged into the pallor, revealing only a faint outline.
A figure stood before the tombstone. His tall and strong form seemed small among the endless rows of tombstones. Another person stood beside him, their profile hidden in the moonlight.
"You never told me about this," Clark Kent said, lowering his head to look at the name on the grave, then at the person standing beside him. The other person was as solemn as ever, yet Clark could sense an emptiness in his sorrow, which made him shiver.
As for Bruce Wayne, appearing somewhat aged, he bent down, brushed off the snow from the tombstone, and said, "This is not your responsibility. You don't need to know."
"I just..." Clark Kent abruptly paused, like a car that had crashed into something and then braked powerlessly. He bowed his head and closed his eyes briefly, then said, "The media never reported that you had a son. No one knew he died. If I had known, I..."
"Would you have been more polite to an old grieving father?"
Clark looked away, gazing at the distant falling snow. He was momentarily distracted, recalling if he had ever heard a child's cry for help or a father's sorrowful weeping over the years. But he couldn't remember, leaving him speechless.
"That's you, Clark Kent," Bruce Wayne stood up, looked at him, and said, "The things you think you should bear interfere with your judgment and ultimately lead to mistakes."
"I won't," he said stubbornly, "I can prove it. Those things won't break me; they'll only make me better."
"A month ago, my probes in low Earth orbit detected signal activity that wasn't from Earth. I think it's here to trouble you. Are you ready?"
"Not less prepared than you," he said, "You have to admit this, Batman. Whether I become a force for justice or evil, it will change the world."
Bruce Wayne turned around, glanced one last time at the tombstone, and said, "I never denied that. But more important than me or ordinary people is whether you can bear that change. As I said, the burdens you carry might overwhelm you and lead to grave mistakes."
Without looking back, he walked into the snow, and Clark Kent stood there watching his silhouette merge into the grayness. He turned to look at the tombstone again, where even the fine engravings of the name were filled with snow.
"Damian Wayne," he said softly, "I've never been good at disappointing anyone, including your father."
As he turned to leave, as the last snowflake fell onto the grave, the surface layer of thin soil with tiny pebbles trickled down, merging into the pure snow, resembling a series of tiny footprints.
"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Prince. I am Schiller Rodriguez, a businessman and antique collector from England. Here is my business card."
Diana Prince sized up the man across from her. He wore a slightly vintage Scottish plaid suit, his hair a bit long but meticulously combed back, and gold-rimmed glasses. He seemed to have just returned from a vacation, with some remaining tan lines. His eyes were sunken into his sockets, eyebrows droopy, and a faint smile lingered on his lips, making him seem approachable.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Rodriguez." Diana Prince returned a tight-lipped smile, "I have read the email you sent me about the 'disappearing snake tail'. To be honest, it's quite shocking. It's hard to imagine the 'Frenes Snake' in the British Museum is, as rumored, a forgery. If this gets out, the collector's world is likely to experience another quake."
"As you said, madam, this treasure from Ancient Egypt was swapped at some point. It is indeed shocking, but what is even more troublesome is that in 1961, the British Royal Family—more specifically, Her Majesty the Queen—loaned this exhibit for the Royal Charity Exhibition at the end of 1961. Previously, all evidence suggested that this precious snake tail was genuine."
"Oh, that's truly troublesome." Diana furrowed her brows deeply, "A royal scandal."
"We believe the Queen was unaware of this. Her Majesty must be unaware. However, we cannot keep this hidden for long. Due to changes in diplomatic policy, we need to return this precious item to Egypt. This is the decision of Number 10. The Queen doesn't want to go against the Prime Minister."
"A huge mess," said Diana, pressing her temples with her hand, "Returning a fake would be ridiculous."
"Exactly. The Queen cannot afford such a disgrace, and neither can Number 10 alter their diplomatic policy because of it. Some from the British intelligence agency MI6 sought me out to resolve this issue. I did some investigating, and all clues point to another continent."
"You mean America?"
"Yes. During World War II, many collectors moved their collections to this still relatively safe continent, forming a somewhat mature system. And the thief's disposal location is also here. So I came to find you, madam. I hope you can assist us in finding the precious snake tail."
Diana's head tilted slightly, seemingly in a shake but perhaps expressing uncertainty. She pressed her temples with two fingers, then said, "I'm not exactly a well-known collector. Why did you think to approach me?"
"We all know the best collectors aren't those jumping clowns in the spotlight. It's precisely because you are mysterious and reserved that we feel you are the best candidate for this task."
Diana sighed lightly and said, "I don't wish for an incident between England and Egypt, and I regret the Royal Family's plight. But I truly can't help. I have no leads on this."
"Don't rush, madam. You can take a look at this first."
When Diana saw him place several photographs on the table, she picked them up and, with just a glance, frowned. The photos were all of her, and they were all quite old.
"Madam, in those turbulent times, espionage agencies from every country were striving to catch dirt on each other, trying to capture confidential information. You should have been prepared for your presence in the photos. After all, a person who doesn't age over decades is bound to garner the attention of these hyenas."
Diana took a deep breath. Her eyes turned icy as she looked at the man across from her and said, "You intend to threaten me?"
To her surprise, the man shook his head, saying, "Of course not. My employer and I aren't foolish enough to think someone with a long life span has no other abilities. We wouldn't threaten such a person. We merely wish to convey that to live better in the society of ordinary people, you'll need assistance from professionals. If you help us, we can both win."
Diana seemed somewhat angry. She stared at the photographs, flipping through one by one. But when she reached the last photo, the familiar face of a man appeared, and it seemed to drain the fight from her.
"Steve..."
"Tell me about the snake tail," she heard herself say. "I can't guarantee I'll truly be able to find it, but I'll do my best."
"That's enough, madam. Let's discuss the treasure. The Frenes Snake is a massive carved mural measuring 3 meters by 1.5 meters, divided into three sections: the snake head, snake body, and snake tail. The section we're seeking is the snake tail, which has long been replaced by a replica. The piece is considered a treasure mainly due to the rare green gemstone over 40mm in diameter embedded within."
Snow covered the rooftop of the tallest building in Metropolis. And looking out from the top-floor office's floor-to-ceiling windows, the entire city appeared like a castle in a crystal ball, refreshed and more diminutive.
A young man in a suit turned around. Though youthful in appearance, his attire was somewhat old-fashioned. He began pacing the office, muttering under his breath.
"Let the swindler in!" he said, "God will punish him."
A man in a Scottish plaid suit entered the office. He nodded to the young man and said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Lex Luther. I am Schiller Rodriguez, a businessman and Collector from England..."
"Alright, skip the nonsense!" Lex Luther pointed a finger, saying, "You have ten seconds to convince me to buy your junk. Otherwise, I'll toss you and the over 100 emails you've sent me into the Atlantic."
"Not such a long time needed, sir." His tone remained leisurely as he spoke, "I hold in my possession the genuine snake tail of the Frenes Snake, a treasure of international significance kept in the British Museum."
"Ha!" Lex Luther let out a loud laugh, saying, "Treasure? A pile of junk buried in sand thousands of years ago?!"
"Given you've read the emails I sent, surely you've seen the radiological test report. I believe the green gemstone on the buried snake tail could catch your eye."
"Don't try pulling wool over my eyes." Lex Luther, hands in pockets, stepped over quickly, almost face-to-face, and said, "Tell me what this thing is. If it truly satisfies me, you're free to name your price."
"I don't know what it is, Lex." he heard him say, "But I know you can find out what it is. You can take it for examination first and pay if you're satisfied."
Lex squinted, shook his head, and retreated, "You mentioned it's a radioactive material. That's risky."
"Indeed. But I think you're suited for such a risk."
"Hahahahahahaha!" Lex suddenly burst into manic laughter, spinning around and stopping to stare out the window, saying, "Kiss the Atlantic, bastard!"
"Should I call for help?" came a relaxed voice from behind Lex, sounding neither nervous nor tense, "Or should I call 'Superman'?"
Lex turned sharply, glaring venomously like a snake. The other man merely squinted slightly, his eyelashes casting a shadow making the eye color hard to discern.
"Perhaps I should indeed find another buyer for this dangerous treasure."
"Do you think Superman can afford it?!"
"If everyone worries about the radiation, then perhaps only this hero akin to God can take it. Whatever price he offers, I'll accept; I simply wish to rid myself of a hot potato."
Lex gritted his teeth, the muscles in his cheeks subtly twitching. After a pause, he said, "Give it to me. Take the money and get lost!"
"Thank you for your patronage, sir. The unparalleled treasure won't disappoint you."