"Yes, Jonathan, I understand. I've already called the police and the fire department. Eric is sitting right next to me. Alright, talk to you later."
In the stands, Martha hung up the phone and said to Eric, who was sitting beside her, "Your father and Clark took Chloe to the hospital. Fortunately, Chloe is fine."
Eric nodded upon hearing this, turning his gaze to the American football game in front of him.
After Coach Watt was eliminated by his Heat Vision, the uncontrolled flames instantly turned back on the host.
Within a few breaths, the opponent was burned to ashes.
Although his body had been strengthened by kryptonite, it still couldn't withstand the fierce burning flames.
"Penetrate! Penetrate!"
As the assistant coach on the sidelines roared, the quarterback for the "Ravens" team, like a rampaging tank, pushed aside the defenders and successfully completed a touchdown.
"Beep beep beep!"
With the final whistle from the referee, the game was officially declared over.
The "Ravens" defeated the "Mustangs" with a score of 53:41, winning the game.
"Although the Ravens won the game, Coach Watt probably won't see it," Martha said with some emotion as she watched the cheering American football players.
She had already heard her husband recount the general course of events over the phone and knew what Coach Watt had done. Although she was very angry at his despicable behavior, seeing the players celebrating wildly in front of her, her mood became complicated.
"His 200th victory, he probably won't ever get to see it," Eric said in a calm tone. "It's truly ironic, the one who tried hardest to achieve victory is the only one who couldn't witness it with his own eyes."
Kent Farm.
Dinner time.
Jonathan was tasting spaghetti, and being someone who never liked pasta, he stopped after a few bites.
"I always thought there was no reason for us to call spaghetti 'empty calories'," Jonathan complained about his wife's spaghetti. "Look at the sauce, carrots, onions, parsley, minced meat, cheese, tomatoes on this spaghetti—I don't think the calories on it are basically zero."
"Maybe it should be called American meat sauce noodles."
Martha smiled slightly at her husband's complaint, "Jonathan, you're not Italian, are you? So I don't think your comments on spaghetti have any reference value."
"Hmmph."
Jonathan nodded thoughtfully, "Like a non-Brit can't evaluate 'fish and eggs'? A non-Chinese can't evaluate 'General Tso's Chicken'? I think, Martha, you've made a clear distinction between gourmet food and gourmets, and that's not a fair act."
Jonathan and Martha discussed the spaghetti issue, while Eric focused entirely on the roast beef in front of him.
"Clark."
The couple had finished their "spaghetti" topic.
After Jonathan returned his plate to the kitchen, he walked to the dining table and said earnestly to Clark, "Sorry, you couldn't play today."
Clark hadn't yet recovered from the special emotions after being punched by Eric during the day.
Guilt? Disappointment? Reflection? Or perhaps resentment?
He didn't know which emotion dominated his heart at that moment.
Hearing his father speak to him, he looked up.
"I thought you were here to make sure I wouldn't hurt anyone," Clark said with a somewhat dejected expression.
He knew his father had always been negative about his American football.
"No, of course not."
Jonathan patted his eldest son's shoulder, "I went to the field to support my son. Maybe your mother is right, I'm stubborn and rude, sometimes too obstinate to listen to others' opinions, but I trust you, Clark."
"I've always believed in you, but I always have some fears. I suppose all parents have some of these fears."
A warm current flowed through Clark's heart as he listened to his father's heartfelt words.
With a faint smile on his lips, all his previous grievances towards his father vanished. "I also said many inappropriate things before, Dad, I'm sorry—"
Listening to the conversation between father and son, Martha's face showed a relieved smile.
Late at night, Lex's residence.
Lex Luthor sat on the sofa, flipping through a strangely packaged book.
"Lex, have you heard what happened at the Smallville High School?" Victoria walked in and asked him.
"Of course, do you think I don't care at all about the world's operations and development, besides playing polo, attending parties, and charity galas?"
"Hmmph, charity galas?" Victoria showed a teasing expression, "I always thought the Luthor Family were the ones who scoffed at such charity galas the most."
"My father believes," Lex closed the book, "that possessing great wealth is a sign of divine power, and aiding the poor or restricting the rich is an interference with God's will, typical social Darwinism. My thoughts differ from my father's. I believe that with the sharpening of class contradictions and the awakening of social trends, if one stubbornly refuses to adapt, they will sooner or later be eliminated by society."
"Can I interpret that as your critique of your father?" Victoria smiled and sat beside him.
"Or rather, a critique of the entire decaying class. I've always liked to be the one to stir up conflict."
Lex stood up and poured himself a glass of Salon champagne, "A fire broke out at Smallville High School, with suspected Death. This isn't the first time I've heard of such things; you always hear all sorts of bizarre incidents in this town."
"So that's why you like staying in this town?"
"Only partly."
Lex took a sip of champagne, "I'm not a lone wolf; I have friends here too."
"The Kent family?" Victoria chuckled and picked up the book Lex had placed on the round table. "Like this book, 'cthulhu,' whose author is Eric Kent, also a member of the Kent family. Is this the latest publication?"
"Strictly speaking, this book hasn't been published yet; I just got it through special channels," Lex explained to Victoria. "As for the Kent family, only Clark is barely my friend. Clark's parents have strong opinions about me because they adhere to the view that 'a bad tree cannot bear good fruit,' and Eric is an abyss for me to explore. Just as he wrote in this book: The most merciful thing in the world is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. And Eric Kent seems to display a world beyond human thought in his book, which strangely resonates with me, so I'm very curious—"
"Lex, sometimes curiosity isn't a good thing," Victoria replied.
"Perhaps." Lex shrugged, and just as he was about to say something, his phone suddenly rang.
After answering and listening to a few words from the other end, Lex's expression changed.