Clark ultimately did not use his newly awakened "X-ray vision" to peek at Lana.
In his opinion, using a telescope was acceptable, but using "X-ray vision" was a complete invasion of her privacy.
Despite possessing extraordinary talent, Clark always tried not to let his talent be controlled by desire.
The next day.
On the Smallville High School sports field, vibrant cheerleaders were passionately dancing.
Members of the "Crow Team" jogged onto the field.
Although the football team suffered heavy losses at the "Bloody Ball," under Coach Watt's training and reorganization, the team quickly recovered.
Clark, wearing number 32, took a deep breath and ran from the tunnel to the entrance of the field.
The dazzling sunlight, mixed with the slightly sun-baked smell of turf and dirt, made him feel dizzy.
"Phew!"
Clark looked in the direction of the cheerleaders, trying to find Lana.
But to his disappointment, Lana was not among the cheerleaders.
Confused, he looked towards the stands, but still didn't find Lana.
Although he didn't find Lana, he unexpectedly saw his father, Jonathan, sitting in the stands.
"Hey, Dad!"
Clark was happy about his father's arrival, putting aside their previous unpleasantness, and actively greeted his father.
"I'm glad you could come, Dad, this means a lot to me."
Jonathan's face was still stern, "I still don't support your decision to join the football team, Clark. The reason I'm here is to make sure no one gets hurt because of you."
Hearing his father's cold words, the smile on Clark's face quickly disappeared.
He had thought their "silent war" was over, but he didn't expect his father to still be so stubborn.
Disappointment, anger, and unwillingness brewed within him.
After giving his father a complicated look, he turned and left.
The thick, invisible barrier between them still existed.
"Watch your running, don't get sacked, if there's no offensive opportunity, punt immediately! Understand? Clark?"
Coach Watt, with a voice comparable to a hairdryer, shouted as he patted Clark's shoulder.
"Understood!"
A slightly nervous Clark nodded, his peripheral vision glancing towards the stands where his father was.
"Beep!"
A whistle blew, and the game began.
Clark took the football and instinctively ran forward.
But the next second, he was violently tackled.
"Kent!"
The hot-tempered Coach Watt walked over, grabbed Clark's helmet, and yanked him up.
"Stop staring at the damn stands! Your father isn't the coach, I'm your coach! If you keep acting like an idiot, get off the field! Get your head in the game, go on offense, understand?!"
Coach Watt, grinding his teeth as if he wanted to devour Clark, roared.
The second round of the game began.
Clark, having adjusted his emotions, looked at his opponent.
Beep!
The whistle blew!
Clark immediately hugged the football and sprinted forward.
A wide receiver performed a "carp leaping over the dragon gate," lunging at Clark, ready to sack him.
But Clark, who was already prepared, used a shoulder block, violently knocking away the large wide receiver who had lunged at him.
"Good job, Kent! That's more like it!"
Watching Clark's valiant effort, Coach Watt clapped his hands and cheered loudly.
Meanwhile, Jonathan, sitting in the stands, shook his head and left the stands with a look of disappointment.
He had no interest in watching the rest of the game.
Clark, having completed the touchdown, took off his helmet and looked towards the stands, only to find that his father had already left.
The joy of completing the touchdown instantly faded.
At the same time, Lana, whom Clark was looking for, was currently in the living room flipping through the manuscript she had gotten from Eric.
"Lana, why are you home so early?"
Niel asked in surprise when she returned from work and saw Lana sitting in the living room.
"Aren't you going to cheerleading practice anymore?"
"You could say that. I've already quit the cheerleading squad, Aunt Niel."
Lana replied to her aunt with a smile, "Although it's a bit regrettable, I don't regret it."
"Why? Didn't you like cheerleading very much? I remember when you first joined the cheerleading squad, you were so excited you couldn't sleep all night."
"People always change, Aunt Niel."
Lana carefully placed the manuscript on the table, "I've found that there are more important things in life than memorizing cheerleading lyrics and waving pom-poms."
"That's not your idea, Lana, I know you."
Aunt Niel walked over and sat next to Lana, asking softly, "Is it because of Whitney?"
"No, it has nothing to do with Whitney."
Lana shook her head, "Whitney is recuperating in the hospital and is doing well. The idea of quitting cheerleading came to me a long time ago. Before, the football team members cheated on their exams, and it seemed like all the players took it for granted. Suddenly, I felt that waving pom-poms for a group of people who 'stop at nothing to pursue victory' had no meaning."
"Never mind the cheerleading, Aunt Niel, I've discovered that one of my classmates has a great talent for writing and painting!"
"Your classmate?"
"Yes, Eric Kent!"
Lana handed the manuscript in her hand to Aunt Niel, "These are his manuscript works. I've never seen works like this before! They subvert order, are crazy, and oppose all reason. I don't know how to describe them in any language."
Lana's emotions were a bit agitated as she described her reading experience, "When I started reading, it was as if I was moving from an ignorant small island to a dark, boundless ocean filled with countless secrets. Teetering on the edge of an abyss, ready to fall into destruction at any moment due to the gaze of some unknown entity. Eric is truly a genius!"
"Is that so?!"
It was the first time Niel had heard Lana praise someone so highly, and she flipped through the manuscript with a mix of belief and doubt.
The title on the first page of the manuscript caught her eye — "Whispers of the Night."
"The broken pier stretched from the shore into the sea, its end often decayed into a blurred mass, a long black line on the distant sea, vaguely revealing an eerie and sinister aura, a subtle and peculiar feeling of palpitation seemed to arise spontaneously beyond disgust and evil."
Is this describing Gotham City?
It's quite similar to the Gotham I remember, which has the worst public safety in America.
She continued to read, and was quickly drawn in by the seemingly magical words.
By the time she finished reading the last section, "Brain in a Vat," she shivered.
A feeling of coldness and fading rationality surged within her.
It was as if her mental world had undergone a saturated bombardment, with most of her rationality extracted.
Although the text was obscure and difficult to understand, sometimes even incomprehensible, it had a certain magic that constantly drew her to keep reading.
"You said the author is Eric Kent? Is he the Kent's youngest son?!"
Niel took a deep breath, adjusted her mental state, and then asked Lana.