Clark was referring to the dream that made him realize the truth. That dream was extraordinarily real, even containing an "air wall" that prevented him from escaping. The timing of his father's appearance was also perfect, helping him find the crucial details. His super brain, as powerful as it was, wasn't that intelligent; someone must have tampered with it.
Clark recalled the conversation between the Black officer and Shiller. At the time, he only felt like they were acting in a Hollywood blockbuster. But now upon reflection, there were schemes everywhere. So had the two of them colluded long ago, even right in front of him?
Clark stepped down from the machine, feeling a wave of frustration. In that dream, he had thought for a long time to solve the simplest puzzle, while these people, with just a few words, wove such a large conspiracy that was nearly flawless, at least completely entrapping him.
Even the genius Lex Luther hadn't escaped their schemes. Currently, the only one who saw through the entire situation was probably Bruce.
Clark increasingly understood why all those Supermen found Batman so attractive. Intellectual attraction is a human instinct. No one dislikes intelligent people. Especially when those evil villains are about to drag the world into a massive conspiracy, a hero-like wise man steps forward, dismantling all the plots and saving the world; that is truly captivating.
The more he thought about it, the more depressed Clark felt. From previous experiences in the copies, he knew that Batman was a physically frail ordinary person. But it was because Batman died too early, went to another world too soon, causing their separation, that he only saw Batman's fragility and not much of his strength.
So much so that he confidently told Batman those words, taking responsibility for his death upon himself, even wanting to take on greater responsibility, like saving the entire human race. In hindsight, it seems like a dark history.
He went from one extreme to another. Previously, he had not been injured much, didn't know how fragile ordinary people were, and somewhat overestimated humans. But after discovering that humans were fragile, he then underestimated them a bit.
As it turns out, on the road of evolution, humans' fragile bodies hadn't come without gains. Although most people don't have such developed brains, these people with extraordinarily developed brains are just too advanced, more developed than even a super brain.
Regardless of whether these people need him to take responsibility and save them, the key is if they become obstacles on his path to saving others, can he really handle it?
Clark couldn't help but doubt himself. Because, of the series of conspiracies Bruce had told him about, he hadn't noticed a single one. Previously, anger had indeed blinded his eyes, making him somewhat irrational. But thinking about it now, even when he was fully rational, he might not have been able to unravel such conspiracies.
Now it was Clark's turn to sigh. Humans are just too complicated.
"Stop sighing over there," Bruce said, "you still have things to do. If I'm not mistaken, some people are about to do something stupid."
Clark, somewhat absent-minded, was startled back to reality upon hearing those words. He looked at Bruce and asked, "Who?"
Bruce, however, didn't answer him, just walked back to the computer to continue working. Staring at him was useless, and even if Clark asked, Bruce wouldn't respond.
Clark was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan. He really felt that Bruce's silence contained some personal grievances, but he didn't dare to say anything, wanted to be angry, but as soon as he thought about the bold words he had previously said, he lost steam and could only sit on the sofa helplessly sighing.
Suddenly, his phone rang. As he answered, a slightly familiar female voice came from the other side: "Clark, is that you? It's me, Lois."
Clark hurriedly stood up and said, "Lois, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, I saw your wanted notice on TV. Are you okay?"
"What?!" Clark said, somewhat shocked, "I'm wanted?!"
"Yes, they also said you kidnapped an important scientist. But I don't think you're that kind of person. You're… you're in some danger, aren't you?"
Clark felt a bit bitter. These things were too complicated; he couldn't explain them to Lois, nor did he want to. He was really afraid that Lois might end up like Martha.
"Listen, Clark. I know you might be facing some unimaginable crisis right now; perhaps no one believes in you, and they'll do everything to slander and threaten you. You might get hurt, might be on the verge of death. But you must believe in yourself, must remember you are Clark Kent."
Clark was somewhat shocked; he thought Lois would say, "No matter who doesn't believe in you, I will," but he didn't expect Lois to urge him to believe in himself.
She didn't ask him to believe in her but to believe in himself, nor did she ask him to remember her, but to remember himself.
At the moment the call with Lois ended, Clark heard some static noise. He immediately realized something, his breathing becoming rapid: "No... no... Lois! Lois!!!"
In the enclosed room, Lois put down the phone. Her tone was no longer as gentle and intellectual as before, but rather sharp, like a wolf descending from the snowy mountains.
"You are making a huge mistake," she said, "Clark Kent is Clark Kent, and he will never turn into some unknown alien monster. You want to use me to provoke him, but it will only backfire and you'll reap what you sow."
"Miss Lane, I know Clark Kent once saved you, and you both belong to the journalism profession, so you might have developed some feelings. But don't forget, you are a human being, and he is an alien."
"Is that so? Are you saying you oppose relationships between different races," Lois's gaze was piercing as she stared at the officer across from her, "You support racial discrimination and segregation. Can I interpret it this way?"
"I haven't broken any laws, you can't keep me locked up forever. Once I get out, I'll still be an investigative journalist and I've built a good reputation over the decades with quite a following. In the news industry, my words carry weight. Do you think the dozen or so editors who are good friends with me wouldn't be interested in the way you treated me and what you said during my detention?"
The officer's face turned ashen. But an older-looking officer standing by the door gave him a glance, and he could only wave his hand in annoyance and leave.
"You don't need to pretend to be the good guy here," Lois's patience was evidently depleted, skipping the preamble and going straight into attack mode. She turned to look at the older officer and said, "Do you think you've been given a glorious mission? You are deluded by the authorities!"
"Over the years, I've interviewed many people from the military system, I'm well aware that it's an aggressive yet conservative system. Aggressive because you are eager to attack anyone to demonstrate your strength; conservative because you never want to bear the consequences of a failed attack, at least not let the main body bear it."
"So when engaging in some new aggressive act, you push out a few scapegoats, first marginalizing them within the system, or simply finding some marginalized people, then sending them to participate in these risky projects. If successful, it's military credit; if not, as long as you disappear, there's no responsibility to bear."
"Even though you might appear smug in front of me, looking like you could control my life and death, the truth is quite the opposite. Once any mistake occurs in this matter, all the blame will be shifted onto you."
"As for me, I just need to seek legal aid after leaving here, hire a lawyer to take you to court. Your superiors, who are eager to shirk responsibility, will kick you out. I could sue you until you're bankrupt and neither you nor your family and children could survive this winter."
The older officer seemed utterly unprepared for Lois to say such things. After all, when they approached this reporter lady, she appeared very cooperative, as if she had no intention of resisting, which they mistook for cowardice. Now it seems she was fearless.
Lois stood up from her chair, walked in front of the officer, and said, "Journalism is a fascinating profession; we deal with all sorts of people. This life has its ups and downs. The downside is, you'll often encounter unfriendly people, and as a voice, you can't escape the fate of being misunderstood."
"But the advantages are also considerable: Everyone I encounter, everything they say to me, turns into numbers in my bank account. Even a homeless person on the street or the most inconspicuous clerk."
"In society, the more people who can provide value to you, the easier it is to survive; the more value you can provide, the better you live."
"Clearly, the journalism profession leans more towards the former. Even if I fall to the bottom, as long as I grab a hot spot, or some big shot's words, or a seemingly trivial tabloid story, I won't starve."
"But you chose the latter. You chose to show your value to your superiors. I don't deny it, this can help you climb to a higher position, after all, being a General is much better than being a journalist. But, once you fall to the bottom, who will provide you more value? What will you use to ensure you don't starve?"
Lois stared deeply into his eyes. After a while, the officer averted his gaze. He didn't dare look Lois in the eye because he knew they were right.
People always say there is no distinction between high and low professions, but the nature of professions is different, and the challenges faced naturally vary.
Journalists are like hyenas on the scent, in an era where entertainment leads to death, digging up spicy news can always bring a meal. It's typically an occupation easier to trade morals for benefit, susceptible to criticism, and in a lifetime, can at most become a famous journalist.
However, being an officer is different. The ceiling for officers is much higher, if taken to the extreme, may even control the country. But similarly, because of being detached from society for long periods, once out of the closed military system, they have no other means of livelihood and their past connections are also of no use.
While officers can make money, some money can be earned but not spent. To keep that money one needs strong backing, but once out of the system, without its protection, no amount of money can be kept. Any frivolous lawsuit can bankrupt them.
The officer inwardly cursed. He knew that such good things couldn't happen to him. Journalists are indeed as troublesome as rumored. However, since the stakes had been laid bare, he could no longer feign ignorance.
The fact was, he was just there to take the blame. His superiors knew he might face an extremely angry alien monster, yet still sent him there. This proved he had been abandoned, and what Lois predicted could very well come true. He didn't even dare to imagine the grim situation he would face.
The officer took a deep breath, but said to Lois, "What do you want?"
"It's not about what I want, I told you, I'm not in danger. Once I leave here, I'll continue to be a journalist. The point is, what do you want."
Lois looked into the officer's eyes and said, "Think about it, not just for yourself, but for your family. You always need to leave yourself a way out, right?"