“I am Superman.”
This sentence was like a bombshell, which directly shocked the journalists and media reporters present. They were temporarily stunned.
Except that the cameras were, as always, faithfully focused on the tall, strong, sturdy figure on stage.
Everyone else had their mouths open, showing extremely obvious emotions of surprise.
Superman, he wasn’t a masked hero.
No helmet, no goggles.
He wore a red cloak, with a capital “S” on his chest and a wisp of curly hair on his forehead …
These were Superman’s most iconic features!
But strangely enough, people would have a hard time remembering what Superman looked like.
Even if pictures of him filled the front pages of dozens of newspapers.
No one had a concrete and clear image of Superman.
So, when the red-cloaked figure walked on stage, it didn’t cause an uproar until the other party admitted his identity.
“Superman …”
“He’s really Superman!”
“Did Vought Enterprise hold this press conference to announce Superman’s identity?”
“…”
This was explosive news!
The scene suddenly turned noisy!
The reporters who came to their senses exchanged whispers and comments.
Click! Click!
The flashes were constantly flickering. The feeling of being the centre of attention made Superman, who was standing on stage, feel a little uncomfortable.
He turned to look at Luke beside him, who gave him an encouraging look.
As if a shot of courage had been injected into Superman’s body, he regained his courage and continued, “I’m Superman, my name, my earth name is Clark Kent. I grew up on a farm in Kansas …”
This astonishing statement, which was enough to shake the world, was transmitted by the cameras to every house in Metropolis and then to other cities.
An hour later, the entire North American continent and even the whole world knew the explosive news.
As for who Superman really was, this topic that once caused heated public discussion had finally been answered.
He came from a civilised race from beyond Earth and landed in some small town in Kansas because of the destruction of his homeland.
He was adopted by a kind couple and named Clark Kent.
He …
“Why did Superman announce himself at a press conference held by Vought Enterprise?”
This was a question published in one of the newspapers.
“Is there a close relationship between the young tycoon and Superman?”
This came from the people eating popcorn, watching from the sidelines.
“That’s an alien living among us, for goodness sake! That’s not good news … He could bring an army with him! Take over every country, every city on Earth!”
This came from the worry of science fiction film lovers.
“The son of tomorrow is actually a rural farmer from Kansas? I don’t believe it! Superman must be a resident of Metropolis and probably lives right next door to me!”
This came from the city folk, who discriminated against people from small towns.
“What are we to make of Superman, who came from an alien planet, grew up on Earth, and is immensely powerful? Will the laws of humans work on him?”
This came from the discussions among scholars.
All in all, Superman was once again the focus of the world.
His existence was given so much meaning, but now, that meaning was even more complicated.
“Luke, is this really the right thing to do?”
In Vought Enterprise’s office, Clark asked, with his head down.
After seeing the intense reaction of the press and the public, he wondered if he had done the right thing in announcing his identity.
Public opinion was like a raging tide, coming at him. It was suffocating.
Facing vicious criminals and outlaws, danger and disaster, Clark would never flinch.
But what could he do when he was being criticised, rejected and attacked?
Swing his fists at innocent people?
Or burn them all with his Heat Vision?
Superman’s great power was useless when placed in front of ordinary people.
The gap between strength and weakness seemed to be reversed.
“Clark, first of all, you have to understand your innermost thoughts.”
Luke just hung up a phone call from the White House and calmly said, “What kind of life do you want? Juggling between school and the criminal organisations of Metropolis on a daily basis? Or being some kind of symbol to step forward and be brave enough to accept the questions and public pressure from everyone?”
“The former makes it easy to confuse normal life with superhero status because in reality, you’re just a Kansas farmer’s son with little insight? A high school student in a rural area.”
“But every night, when you put on the Superman uniform, you become an all-powerful, respected superhero.”
“The stark contrast brings about a psychological change, and maybe one day you’ll grow tired of the name Clark Kent and prefer just existing as Superman — craving recognition and attention. It’s human nature.”
“Or, on the other hand, do you no longer want to be busy saving others and the world? Instead, you are ready to return to your family and be a good husband and father.”
“Life is full of too many unknowns, and what’s more, human energy is limited, even for … Saiyans.”
“What would you do if you were preparing for an exam at school and then there was a fire in Metropolis?”
“Save people! There’s no doubt that you will do so. And then what happens? You fail your exams, flunk your finals, and your teacher will hand you one of the lowest grades … That’s the kind of blow and pressure from real life that seems like a small thing but sends you into endless worry and saps your passion and love for life.”
“Clark, you have to understand one thing. A superhero is not a job. It’s an obligation, and it’s a mission endowed with a sense of responsibility. It’s a long-term investment with no return.”
“You’d be pretty hard-pressed to do a good job as Clark Kent and act as Metropolis’s most perfect Superman at the same time.”
Luke tapped his finger on the desktop, his voice paused, and then looked at his younger cousin, who was slightly confused.
Publicly revealing one’s identity was certainly going to stir up a lot of trouble.
For example, a villain may threaten him by using his family and would turn the risk on to friends around him.
But at the same time, it could also bring some benefits.
First of all, it was legitimacy. He could cooperate with the government openly and honestly and never have to bear the grey label of a ‘masked vigilante’.
Secondly, change was something Luke was happy to see, as long as everything was still under control.
He had no intention of changing Superman but simply wanted his young cousin to see the world for what it was early on. He shouldn’t just wallow in the superficiality of a superhero’s good deeds.
This was the DC Universe, which revealed a heavy dose of darkness from start to end.
Superman had suffered many times from the malice of fate in a different time and space and different universes.
Duped by the Joker into killing Lois Lane and the child in her womb and then establishing a dictatorship.
Killing Lex Luthor with Heat Vision, rule the earth, and become a Hitler-like existence.
–In too many stories, Superman faced tragedy and became the most terrible person in the world.
“Don’t worry about the government or other problems.”
Luke snapped his fingers, and the corners of his mouth curled up.
“I hired a professional agent for you. He’s very good at dealing with all aspects of public pressure and public relations crises.”
The door to the office was thrown open, and a familiar figure appeared in front of Clark.
“Lex? Why are you here?”
He was surprised and rose to his feet.
Because of the effects caused by black kryptonite, Lex would still be confined to the bedroom of the villa and not allowed to go out.
“I’ve recovered not long ago.”
Lex showed a bright smile on his face. He pointed to Clark and said, “I didn’t realise you were the Metropolis star who appeared in the papers every day.”
“My best friend and the guy I hate the most are the same person. It’s amazing.”
He pulled out a chair and sat across Luke.
The negative personality created by black kryptonite seemed to have vanished, and Lex had returned to his former sunny personality.
When he spoke, there was always a smile at the corners of his mouth, and he acted cheerful and lively.
“Well, I didn’t want to keep it a secret, but… “
Clark scratched his head. Hiding something from his friend made him feel a little guilty.
Because in Jonathan’s upbringing, lying was wrong.
“It’s no big deal. Everyone has a secret, including me.”
Lex narrowed his eyes and smiled.
“Let’s continue to talk about how to build Superman as the greatest superhero in the world.”
…
…
In Gotham.
Wayne manor.
Bruce Wayne, sitting on the carpet, was busy cutting out old newspapers recently collected.
He needed to get to know the city and, more importantly, some of the people in it.
“Carmine ‘Roman’ Falcone …”
“Oswald Cobblepot… The Penguin…”
“Sal Maroni …”
Every time Bruce said a name, he made an obvious mark on a notebook on his right.
Like a young hunter, slowly and patiently determining his prey.
These people were the underworld of Gotham, the big names in the mob.
Some of them have ruled Gotham for over ten years.
Some were among the upper class and ran lucrative businesses.
Some had numerous minions and controlled the harbour and the lower downtown area.
“Master Wayne, you should go out for a walk and get some sunshine instead of locking yourself in your room and thinking about these dangerous things.”
Alfred, the butler, pushed the door and came in with breakfast.
With a helpless look on his face, he thought, ‘After his return from Nepal, Master Wayne ran off to the slums of Gotham in tattered clothes and make-up, as a street hobo.’
‘And now he’s going through old newspapers and collecting information.’
‘He had no intention whatsoever of taking over the family business, Wayne Enterprises and revitalising the family.’
When he was young, Alfred was an agent for MI5.
Later, by chance, he became the butler of the Wayne family.
This seemingly ordinary old man was actually proficient in various skills: combat, medic, and even computer skills.
Therefore, Alfred was also known by the lesser-known name of ‘The Butler’.
With his knowledge of Bruce and the details he recently observed, it wasn’t difficult for him to guess what the other party wanted to do.
‘Fighting gangsters, or punishing evil and promoting good?’
In the old butler’s view, this was obviously irrational behaviour.
“Gotham was no different than it was before I left, still sinful, still riddled with crime, it’s still … so boring.”
Bruce shook his head, bit a piece of bread and said, “So, I have no interest in getting involved, only the idea of doing something to change it.”
In the presence of his butler, who had served his family since his father’s time, Bruce didn’t hide anything.
If you ask who Batman was always honest to or didn’t have any psychological defenses against…
It could only be Alfred.
“It won’t be easy, Master Wayne.”
The old butler pursed his lips and seemed unhappy, “If you really want to change Gotham, why don’t you run for mayor and make the city great again?”
“Because becoming mayor wouldn’t get rid of those criminals once and for all.”
Bruce shook his head. He knew about Gotham’s power structure.
From top to bottom, corruption was common.
Gotham City Hall was the umbrella for the gangs, and few honest police officers in the police department took their job seriously.
Basically, everyone had received bribes or, to protect themselves, turned a blind eye to it.
Good people who asserted themselves, untainted, were either ostracised or treated with indifference.
Either that or they would be suppressed and end up in dire straits.
“Even if I become mayor, it won’t help.”
Bruce stared at the old newspaper cutouts and spoke in a deep voice.
“Because no matter what I want to do, the police, the prosecutors, even the judges … are already forming a whole chain of interests underneath them, and they will cover each other up and condone the growth of crime.”
Alfred was silent and summed up Master Wayne’s comment by saying, ‘Politics won’t save Gotham’.
“What will it take to save Gotham?”
When Bruce had finished his breakfast, the old butler, who was standing to one side, collected the tableware.
“To become a symbol of something … detached from the external appearance of a man’s flesh and blood body, and become the embodiment of fear! To instil fear into those criminals …”
Bruce took a deep breath, and his eyes seemed deep.
“It can also give courage to others and act as a weapon of justice.”
Hearing these generous words, Alfred just shook his head helplessly and whispered, “Master Wayne, before you start this great cause of saving Gotham, can you at least get a girlfriend to continue the blood of the Wayne family?”
“That would give me a bit of peace of mind.”
Bruce: “…”
Since his return, he had become accustomed to the old butler’s ubiquitous cold humour way of speaking.
“By the way, James Gordon, are you familiar with him?”
Bruce touched his chin and automatically skipped the awkward topic of getting a girlfriend, getting married, and having children.
“It rings a bell.”
Alfred, who had walked to the door, stopped and nodded.
“He’s the one who gave you the coat, at… that alley, back in the day, Master Wayne.”
Bruce’s mouth turned up. He certainly remembered James Gordon and knew the man.
What he wanted to be sure of was whether James Gordon had been corrupted and turned into one of those dirty cops.
“Mr Gordon is an honest man. There is no doubt about it.”
Alfred hesitated for a moment and answered.
At least the butler had never heard of any negative news about James Gordon.
Sometimes a person’s character is judged not by what he says but by what he does.
As an old man who had been in the police department for over ten years, James Gordon was still an ordinary police officer.
And his colleagues either retired or climbed higher.
Sitting on the bench for a long time, and being unpopular with others in the Gotham Police Department, where corruption was rampant, would explain a lot of things.
“At least, there’s someone we can work with.”
Bruce’s furrowed brows were slightly loosened.
He needed a helping hand, or rather a mouthpiece to talk to the police department and city hall.
If James Gordon was as upright as he seemed and willing to make a contribution to change Gotham…
Then, the other party was undoubtedly the most suitable candidate.
When Alfred left, Bruce continued to bury himself in his work.
Although the old butler had hinted many times, the board of directors of Wayne Enterprises was secretly planning to dilute his shares and preparing to kick him out…
Bruce wasn’t worried. He could handle such minor problems.
What he urgently needed was to find an entry point to combat Gotham’s mob.
“Falcone …”
Bruce breathed a sigh of relief when he finished what he was doing.
He decided to start with Roman, who ruled the city in the open and was the most powerful.
Once the other party was eliminated, the other gangs would have to settle down for a while, at the very least.
Of course, they might also become even more vicious.
In order to compete for pieces of territory, like hungry dogs, a new round of fighting and power shuffling would start.
If that was the case, it was an excellent opportunity for him to take the mob down in one fell swoop.
After careful consideration, Bruce picked up the remote control and turned the TV on.
“Metropolis, Superman, an alien who landed in at a farm in Kansas …”
Twenty minutes later, the sole heir to the Wayne family was looking a little gloomy.
It was as if he had realised that there was a bigger problem, one that was even more difficult and troubling than the mob.
‘Superman!’
Bruce thought for a long while before flipping open his notebook again.
While watching the heated debate on TV about whether Superman’s presence was a good thing or a bad thing;
He silently wrote down the other party’s name and marked ‘worthy of caution’.
