A few moments later, after seeing Gray off, Dio finally let his true colors show. With a dramatic leap, he flopped onto a massive bed big enough for five.
"I'm totally pumped, Dad!" His muffled voice came from the pillow. "Especially when I think about Clark, that big goof, probably milking cows back on the farm. Hahaha!"
"What's Clark ever done to you?" Locke shot Dio a look, shaking his head as he dialed his new flip phone.
Beep… beep… beep…
"Lionel, didn't you say this was just a regular downtown hotel? This place is fancy enough to host the president!"
"Locke, is that you?" The clink of wine glasses and the buzz of a crowd came through the line. Sounded like his old buddy was at some swanky party.
Lionel's voice carried a grin. "I seem to recall someone saying the economy's been rough this year, and they didn't know what to get Dio for his birthday. 'This gift's too expensive,' you said."
"I hear ya," Lionel cut in, chuckling. "But come on, pulling this off was no big deal for me. Don't sweat it. Besides, you tipped me off about that El Niño thing earlier this year. I owe you one."
"That's not the same thing!" Locke shook his head, his gaze drifting to Dio, who'd wandered over to the minibar and was inspecting some imported chocolate. The kid caught his eye and quickly pretended to study the ingredients list, but the chocolate smudge on his lip gave him away. "You're spoiling Dio rotten, you know that?"
"So what?" Lionel snorted. "I like the kid. Lex likes him too. Just think of it as a birthday gift from me and Lex."
"What can I say? You're the stingy one, Locke Kent."
"You jerk," Locke muttered, his face darkening. He thrust the phone toward Dio. "Here, say thanks to your Uncle Lionel."
Dio took the phone, cleared his throat, and said solemnly, "Thank you for the arrangements, Mr. Luthor."
"Just call me Uncle Lionel," came the warm reply. "If you really want to thank me, enjoy this vacation. Spend some quality time with your dad."
Click.
The call ended.
Dio noticed his dad giving him a weird, complicated look.
"What? Is there something on my face?" Dio asked, instantly on guard.
"You little punk," Locke grumbled. "You're riding on your dad's coattails."
---
Dragon Palace
Supposedly the best restaurant in Metropolis.
Red lanterns hung above the entrance, flanked by two stone lions guarding a carved wooden door. Compared to the suburban takeout joint they'd been to last time, this place was on another level.
Dio tilted his head back, his red eyes glinting with curiosity as he studied the building's Eastern charm. "Dad, you sure this isn't a museum?"
Locke chuckled, pushing the door open. "Trust me, it's a restaurant."
A server in a qipao greeted them with a smile, handing over an English menu. "Welcome to Dragon Palace. May I take your order?"
"I booked a private room. Name's Locke Kent."
"Mr. Locke Kent?" The server paused, then broke into a warm smile. "Your is excellent."
Dio's eyes widened, like he was seeing his dad for the first time. "Dad, since when do you speak ?"
Locke shrugged. "Picked up a bit back when I was making waves in Metropolis."
A bit?
Dio raised an eyebrow but hurried to keep up as Locke led the way to their private room.
Then he heard it—Locke sat down, grabbed the menu, and started rattling off dishes like a pro: "I'll have kung pao chicken, mapo tofu, sweet and sour pork ribs, xiao long bao, steamed lamb, steamed deer tail, roasted duck, roasted chicken, roasted goose, braised pork, braised duck, soy sauce chicken, cured meats, pine flower sausage, air-dried meat, assorted cold platter, smoked chicken with white belly, steamed eight-treasure pig, stuffed glutinous rice duck, canned pheasant, canned quail, mixed braised platter, braised goose…"
What?!
Locke Kent, what are you even saying? That's your 'bit' of ?!
Dio blinked, dumbfounded, but before he could ask, a parade of fragrant dishes started arriving, shutting him up. Spicy, glossy mapo tofu. Golden, crispy sweet and sour pork ribs. Translucent xiao long bao.
Dio's nose twitched, and his stomach let out an embarrassing growl.
"Dig in," Locke said, picking up his chopsticks, then pausing.
Dio's sharp eyes caught the hesitation. "Dad, are you—"
Before he could finish, a piece of sweet and sour pork rib floated up out of nowhere and landed neatly in Locke's bowl.
Dio's mouth twitched. "You're seriously using The World to steal food like it's the cafeteria?!"
Locke didn't even blink. "The World was hungry too."
Dio let out a cold laugh, not about to be outdone. He summoned The World himself.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Their Stands clashed silently above the table, chopsticks and spoons darting through the air. Dishes vanished at an alarming rate, food disappearing faster than the eye could follow.
Half an hour later, Dio slumped back in his chair, patting his full belly with a satisfied grin. "Dad…"
"Hm?"
"Your cafeteria-sauce-stealing skills are still top-notch."
"Glad you noticed."
"So…" Dio's eyes gleamed. "Can we come back tomorrow?"
Locke took a slow sip of tea, ruffling Dio's blonde hair with a grin. "Depends on how you behave."
Dio pouted, letting out a grumpy huff.
Stuffed and happy, the father and son stepped out of the restaurant, sunlight spilling over the bustling Chinatown street.
"You little punk," Locke said, stretching. "Where to next? The tech expo's not till tomorrow, so this afternoon—"
"Dad, what about that shop?" Dio pointed.
Locke followed his finger to a sign that read: Old Man's Antique Shop.
What?!
Locke froze. Is that the antique shop I'm thinking of? But that one was in San Francisco, not Metropolis.
He chuckled to himself, shaking off the thought. "Alright, let's check it out. Maybe we'll find another birthday gift for you."
Ding.
The bell chimed as they pushed open the creaky wooden door. The shop was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of sandalwood and old leather.
An elderly man in a Mao suit and round glasses shuffled over. "First time at the antique shop, sir?"
"Just browsing," Locke replied.
"Oh?" The old man raised an eyebrow. "You speak ?"
"Guess I fooled you there," the old man said with a chuckle. "Take your time, look around."
Locke nodded, glancing at Dio.
The kid was clearly new to places like this, his eyes glued to a display of intricate mechanical devices in the center of the shop. A brass astrolabe, a quill pen that wrote on its own, a pocket watch inlaid with gears… Dio's eyes sparkled, his fingers itching to touch the delicate surfaces.
"Don't touch," Locke said, gently pulling his hand back. "Some antiques are fragile."
"You worry too much," the old man laughed. "The fragile stuff isn't out in the open."
This guy's doing it on purpose, isn't he? Locke shot the old man a look, then turned back to Dio.
Good kid, Locke thought, relieved. He's listening.
Wait—
Dio's eyes suddenly narrowed, his head whipping toward the window, his red gaze sharp as a hawk's.
"What's wrong?" Locke followed his son's line of sight, instantly alert, but all he saw was the busy crowd across the street.
"Nothing, Dad. Probably just my imagination," Dio said, brushing it off.
Locke patted his shoulder reassuringly but didn't let it go. Silently, he let Star Platinum's senses spread out, scanning the street for anything unusual.
Nothing stood out.
Still, he couldn't ignore it—not when it was Dio's instincts flaring up. The kid had a knack for sensing trouble.
"Stay here and don't wander," Locke said, ruffling Dio's hair. "I'm stepping out to make a call."
"Okay," Dio nodded obediently, watching his dad head outside.
No bad vibes this time.
Dio stretched, deciding to poke around the antique shop to kill time.
Soon, a strange silver coin caught his eye. It was half black, half white, with a ring carved on the back and a snake eating its own tail on the front, its eyes set with tiny red gemstones.
It looked expensive.
"Like this one, huh?" The old man's voice came from behind, startling Dio. He hadn't noticed the shopkeeper creep up.
"Nice taste, kid." The old man picked up the coin, turning it slowly under the light. "This is an ouroboros, one of the oldest mythological symbols in the world."
"It represents the cycle of life and death, endless and eternal. See how the snake's tail always finds its way back to its mouth?" He held the coin upright. "It's a greedy snake that eats itself."
Dio frowned. "So, it's destroying itself?"
"Not quite," the old man said with a smile. "According to ancient alchemical wisdom, everything is born with a destined end, a fated death. But this ouroboros, even as it consumes itself, it gives itself new life. It keeps birthing itself, endlessly renewing its existence."
"It's a cycle of eternal life. Or, you could say…"
"Immortality?" Dio's eyes widened.
"Ever heard of the phoenix?" the old man asked, then continued without waiting for an answer. "Like the ouroboros, it burns itself to ash and rises again—a cycle of rebirth."
"Brown once said, 'Everything has a beginning and an end. Only the heavens and mathematics can bring renewal.' Get what I'm saying, kid?"
"Nope," Dio said, shaking his head.
The old man paused. "Well, let's just say this coin brings good luck."
Good luck?! Dio sucked in a breath, his ears perking up.
Now that I understand.
"How much, sir?" Dio asked.
"It's not about the price, kid," the old man said, dodging the question. "Is today a special day for you?"
Dio's guard went up. What's with this old guy?
"No need to get tense," the old man said with a kind smile. "Parents don't usually bring their kids to places like this without a reason."
"It's my birthday," Dio admitted after a pause.
"There you go." The old man placed the coin gently in Dio's palm. "Happy birthday, kid. Time flies, doesn't it?"
He slipped into , murmuring, "The years pass like an arrow, the days and months like a shuttle. Cherish your time."