Super Brain, an Unimagined Path

"Do you need something?"

Eric's impression of his cheap older brother's goddess was fairly ordinary.

It was not personal dislike, but simply that he disliked women who were love-struck and often wore melancholy expressions.

"..."

Lana hesitated for a moment, unsure how to begin.

"Did you paint all these, Eric?"

After thinking it over, she decided to start with the paintings before her that had shocked her so deeply.

"It certainly looks that way. There aren't any other paintings on the market right now that are this incomprehensible," Eric replied blandly.

These paintings were merely things he had doodled in his spare time out of boredom.

Perhaps when he had used Crayola crayons as a child to draw Clark's hometown exploding, he had awakened a talent for painting.

As the progress of his Homelander template continued to unlock, not only had his body changed, but his mental strength had gradually become abnormal as well.

Feelings of nothingness, even emptiness and self-doubt, constantly surged up within him.

It was not merely his strength that was growing. His mind was growing as well.

His mental power expanded, stretching into abysses resembling deep space and the deep sea. His consciousness entered a new realm, continually diving into those black, indescribable presences.

It was not the bizarre, chaotic transformation of a madman's mental world, but a transcendence beyond ordinary people—a rise of his mental strength to an entirely higher level.

He did not know whether Clark's "super brain" felt the same way, but for Eric, the enhancement of his mind did more than boost his memory and agility of thought. More importantly, it allowed him to contemplate this world from a higher perspective.

Though it was only a vague, indescribable feeling.

So Eric used his monstrous mental power, along with a heart filled with "darkness," to paint the dark entities within his mind.

The intense unknown and terror in these works, their vast yet utterly irrational style, greatly resembled the Cthulhu Mythos he had enjoyed in his previous life.

Not only had he painted works in a "Cthulhu-like style," he had also written quite a bit of "Cthulhu-like" prose.

Of course, he had not completely copied the Cthulhu Mythos from his previous life. Instead, he used his perception beyond that of ordinary people, combined with the DC Universe he lived in, to create obscure and difficult-to-understand texts.

Eric had not known much about the DC Universe in his previous life, but he knew there were certain connections between the DC Universe and the Cthulhu Mythos.

For instance, Gotham City's Arkham Asylum had many ties to Arkham Town and Mary Sanitarium, which frequently appeared in the Mythos.

Karathen and the Fishermen from Aquaman's Atlantis were both creatures that had appeared in the Cthulhu Mythos.

Indulging his twisted sense of humor, Eric appropriately altered and added elements such as Gotham, Arkham, Karathen, mermaids, and so on while writing a Cthulhu Mythos that did not exist in this world, forming a uniquely styled "Cthulhu-like Mythos."

"It's not just astonishing! They feel like works of art. Even though my artistic appreciation isn't all that refined, I still feel completely amazed."

Looking at the paintings on the wall, Lana praised them sincerely.

Although she had initially been affected by the paintings and broken into a cold sweat after her consciousness sank into them, once she recovered, she found that they possessed a bizarre kind of beauty.

It was as if something indescribable and soul-shaking were drawing her into those fictional worlds of deadly danger.

"Thank you for the compliment, but they're just casually drawn illustrations. If you call them works of art, they're probably the cheapest, lowest-grade kind."

Eric did not take her words to heart.

"Illustrations? So... Eric, you're planning to create a world like this through writing too?"

Lana asked in surprise.

In her impression, Eric and Clark, despite being brothers, had completely different personalities.

Clark was simple, polite, and warmhearted toward others, while Eric was as unapproachable as an iceberg.

She had never expected that Eric, who had always seemed so cold and distant, not only possessed such talent for painting but also a gift for writing.

"The drafts are over there. If you're interested, you can take them home and read them. But... you'd better not lose them."

Eric pointed to the printed drafts on the bookshelf.

Though polite, he was also making it clear that she should leave.

His cheap older brother had already been standing outside for quite a while.

If he did not let Lana out soon, Clark would probably start overthinking things again.

Though Eric did not mind making Clark lose sleep for a night, considering the trouble it might cause him, he bluntly asked her to leave.

Hearing Eric's icy words, Lana felt a little dejected.

Her original purpose had been to speak with Eric about Jeremy last night, yet she had ended up being shown the door.

With mixed feelings, she walked over to the bookshelf, picked up the manuscript, and jokingly said to Eric, "Aunt Nell knows some people in publishing. These manuscripts might have a chance of being published."

"Maybe."

Eric's tone was indifferent, as if he did not particularly care.

Seeing that Eric's expression had not changed in the slightest, Lana felt an overwhelming sense of defeat.

After chatting for a few more moments, she bid Eric farewell. "I think I should go. If I stay out too long, Nell might send out a search-and-rescue team to find me."

When she reached the door, she seemed to remember something.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face Eric. "About yesterday... I want to say thank you!"

Without waiting for Eric to respond, she turned and left.

Eric remained where he was, still wearing his poker face.

With his arms folded across his chest, he found himself interested in what Lana had said about publishing.

He had no interest in becoming a writer, but if he could publish books, perhaps he could use that method to launder the money in his hands.

That way, he could explain to Jonathan and Martha how he had earned his money through legitimate channels.

After considering for a while how he could launder money through publishing, Eric raised his head and called outside, "Clark, I know you're out there. Come in."

Creak!

The door was pushed open, and Clark walked in with a somewhat awkward expression.

"Eric, sorry. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. It's just that since yesterday, my hearing has become much stronger. I keep hearing things I shouldn't be hearing."

Feeling that eavesdropping was shameful, Clark explained himself to Eric.

"It's fine."

Eric did not care about Clark's eavesdropping. "When I first discovered that I could hear sounds from miles away, I couldn't control it either. Adapting to your body is a process."

Clark pressed his lips together, as if he wanted to say something.

After their fight at the dance, he still felt somewhat awkward whenever he faced Eric.

After a moment of silence, he asked Eric, "Eric, Jeremy's death... did you do it?"