Interested in a bet with me?

Chapter 37: Interested in a Little Wager?

In the alley, Fran pulled out two photos.

Surveillance camera angles from the museum, showing Clark and David speaking with Lex Luthor.

"You're not easy to find, Clark."

He shook the photos, grinning.

"Lucky for me, you went to that museum exhibition that night."

Fran only remembered Clark's clothes, hairstyle, and half a profile—finding someone with just that was nearly impossible.

It was late at night, the city empty, with only the Metropolis Museum hosting an exhibition gala. He took a gamble and went there, and sure enough, he found him.

"With these photos, tracking you two down as a police detective wasn't hard."

"Officer, what exactly do you want us to help you investigate?"

Clark swallowed quietly, staring at the man before him.

A cop had singled him out for no clear reason, claiming it was about a traffic accident. He had a sinking, uneasy feeling.

David stood to the side, arms crossed, watching coldly, waiting to see what this guy was scheming.

"I really wonder what your foster parents fed you."

Fran's eyes lit up like he was looking at a rare zoo animal. He reached out and squeezed Clark's solid arm, earning a displeased slap away. Fran raised his hands as if startled, but his grin was smug.

"Easy now—I can't take one of your flicks."

"Officer, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb. I saw it last night."

He lowered his voice, leaning in with that irritating head of his like they were old pals, clapping his hands.

"Quite the show—stopping a runaway city bus with one hand."

Clark's face twitched with unease. He opened his mouth.

"Clark, are you really going to play dumb at a time like this?"

Seeing what he was about to say, Fran shook his head, looking like he had him dead to rights.

"You can't be that naive, can you?"

The guy didn't seem to be bluffing. His secret was really exposed. At those words, Clark's heart tightened with anxiety, and he glared at him.

"Even an elephant has its temper," David said coldly.

"That doesn't mean anyone can poke it for fun."

This reckless bastard dared to provoke someone who could crush him like a bug.

"An elephant? So you know your brother's secret too."

Fran turned his head. His target was Clark—stopping this kid brother of his was just a side move.

He couldn't care less about David's veiled threat.

"I know what you, you two, and your parents want."

He pointed at Clark and David, speaking freely.

"Clark, you've got this kind of power and talent, but you never joined any school sports, and you didn't even fight back when you got hit.

Your foster parents have a son like you, yet they chose to run a struggling farm, scraping together a pitiful few thousand bucks all year."

Walking the line between black and white, threatening people with their deadly secrets to get things done—it's all too easy to end up in a mutual destruction scenario.

Only timid prey makes for a hunter's best target. Fran had thoroughly investigated Clark's situation, and he was more than eighty percent sure he could bag this rare catch. Otherwise, he wouldn't be here.

"You want a quiet, peaceful life, right?"

Just thinking about that kind of power made him shiver with excitement. With it, you could rake in a fortune effortlessly, no matter what you did.

But this family hadn't. They were so cautious they wouldn't even let their kid join school sports.

"Your brother Clark could kill me easily, sure.

But if I don't check in by a certain time, an email will automatically send your family's info to every major media outlet."

His tone shifted, and a cold smirk curled at the corner of Fran's mouth.

"What do you think will happen then?

I guarantee you'll become the hottest celebrity family in Metropolis—hell, the whole world—overnight!"

This family couldn't withstand a thorough investigation.

"Enough!

What do you want?"

Grabbing Fran by the collar, Clark couldn't hold back his fury.

"Leave my brother and my parents out of this."

If not for his parents, this alien wouldn't know where he'd be right now, or if he'd even be alive.

If not for him, his brother could have enjoyed all of their parents' love.

Clark didn't want to bring any trouble to his family because of himself.

"Shh!

Keep your voice down, Clark. Don't let anyone hear your secret."

A creature more terrifying than an African elephant was raging before him, yet Fran smiled instead, looking confident as he gently pressed a finger to his lips.

The young man before him was too green—he was anxious, afraid, and that was why he was angry.

"I'm not asking for much. It's a waste for you to bury a talent like this on a farm.

I'm a righteous detective. I just need you to help me take down a few ruthless gangsters I can't get evidence on."

Having read Clark's file, Fran understood the young man's character well.

The wealth from wiping out Metropolis's biggest gangs would be enough for him to live comfortably for a long time.

"I won't kill anyone for you!"

Threatened, Clark was both panicked and furious, unsure what to do, filled with regret—why hadn't he been more careful last night when saving someone, and forgotten to check if anyone was watching?

The main thing was that it had all happened too suddenly, leaving Clark no time to react.

"Even if they're gangsters with blood on their hands?"

"That's right!"

Well, this guy was even more rigid than he'd thought.

"Fine, you don't have to kill them. If you can subdue them, I won't mind either."

Fran shrugged. All he wanted was the money anyway.

"I..."

It seemed there was no other way. If it was just about subduing gangsters... Just as Clark hesitated, about to agree—

Clap, clap!

"Bold, yet not without caution."

In the alley, David clapped, his tone unhurried, as if offering genuine praise.

"That's an essential trait for a gambler."

His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of his throat, but his face showed nothing—this cop named Fran was quite a talent himself.

A flicker of unease passed through Fran's eyes at having his hidden thoughts exposed, but his smile didn't waver.

He was indeed gambling. An eighty-percent chance didn't mean certain victory, but this high-stakes bet was worth it.

Win this one time, and he'd never have to worry again.

This secret could feed him for a lifetime!

"Care to make a bet with me?"

David pulled a fifty-cent coin from his pocket.

"What do you want to bet?"

Fran smiled at the coin in his hand.

A trace of unease stirred in his heart—somehow, he felt something had slipped beyond his control.

This kid named David Kent—he hadn't taken him seriously before. So what if one person could take down a few football players his own age? That was just kids fighting.

But now, seeing him in person, from start to finish, Fran hadn't spotted a hint of anxiety or panic on David's face. He'd watched coldly the whole time, like he was observing a bug scrambling around cluelessly, mature and eerily calm. What was his confidence based on?

His freak of a brother?