Mr. Irony

"I want to apologize for the inappropriate things I said earlier, Eric."

After escaping the ruins of the manor, Clark brushed the dust from his already tattered clothes, took a deep breath, and said to Eric with a guilty expression:

"That wasn't what I meant. My emotions were a little unstable at the time. I... I don't even know what I said back then. If you felt hurt, I'm truly sorry."

Facing his younger brother, Clark felt mostly guilt and unease.

Eric's gaze remained fixed on the fleeing Owl Council assassins. His expression unchanged in the face of the apology, he said:

"No apology is necessary, Clark. You did nothing wrong. I believe you think so too. Besides, I'm not the kind of person who would be hurt by a few words."

"..."

Clark was somewhat dejected by Eric's icy response.

He suddenly recalled a saying: An apology didn't necessarily mean you were wrong. It only meant you valued the relationship more than your pride.

It felt as though those words had struck him right in the heart.

After letting his thoughts run wild for a while, Clark forced himself to focus on the matter at hand.

"Eric, do you know... who these people are?"

Glancing at the "Owl Men" lying on the ground, Clark asked Eric with a puzzled expression.

"Perhaps you should ask Lex Luthor what kind of existence he provoked."

Eric walked over to one of the owl assassins, bent down, and removed the man's mask.

Examining the ancient, intricate patterns on it, he said in a somewhat casual tone:

"While you're at it, you can ask the mercenary soldiers under Lex Luthor why they fired rockets before you had even left the hall. And... why he collected so many meteorites. Clark, you always thought you understood Lex Luthor, but it seems that isn't the case."

"But that's normal, isn't it? You hid your identity from Lex, and Lex hid what he was doing from you. You both thought you understood each other, yet you were both wary and distant. Once that trust is broken, this fragile friendship will probably turn into an incredibly terrible relationship."

Thinking of Lex Luthor, who would become Superman's mortal enemy in the future, and then considering the relationship between the two of them now, Eric felt something strangely amusing.

Was this a classic case of love turning into hate?!

Listening to Eric mock the relationship between Lex and himself, Clark's expression gradually turned serious.

"Just now... those explosions were caused by Lex's people?"

He hesitated, then asked Eric again.

He still found it hard to believe that Lex would do something like that.

"You can find the answer from him yourself."

After replying to his "bargain-bin big brother," Eric turned and left.

The fleeing Owl Council assassin was getting farther and farther away. Although he had super vision, it was best not to let the man get too far out of sight.

The Owl Council occupied a small council chamber with an air of grandeur.

The seats were filled with men and women wearing owl masks, all exuding aristocratic elegance.

Every member of the council had already heard the report from the owl assassin who had escaped back.

The chairman looked solemn, and the members seated at varying heights were stunned by what they had heard.

"How is that possible? Lasers can shoot from his eyes, and he possesses strength that even the Talons cannot match. How could such a person exist?"

"Even when the owl assassins joined forces, they couldn't defeat the one called 'Homelander'?"

"I think we need to revise our strategy. We may even need to reduce the number of meetings for our safety. If he discovers where we are, it will definitely be a disaster."

The members of the Owl Council began discussing it among themselves.

"Silence!"

The chairman rapped the conference table. "Even if he storms the owls' nest, only defeat awaits him. The endless maze will be the first barrier in his path, and our Mr. Irony will be the second. Even if our initial plan to reclaim this city has suffered a setback, it is merely the darkest hour before dawn."

When the chairman mentioned Mr. Irony, he turned his gaze toward the middle-aged man standing in the shadows, his entire body concealed within a black trench coat.

"Isn't that right, Mr. Irony? Our magician."

"Actually."

The middle-aged man stepped out from the shadows and said sternly, "I am not a magician. I am an illusionist—a card trick performer who has barely moved beyond beginner-level sleight of hand and has started stepping into the realm of illusionists with considerable experience."

"Magic tricks? I believe they are entirely different from magic."

The chairman said to Mr. Irony, "I have heard that magic in the air surrounds us at every moment. For some exceptionally gifted people, all they need to do is reach out and take it. Explaining such an existence with the term 'magic tricks' is far too forced, Mr. Irony."

"Of course, you are right. Some people can indeed effortlessly draw pure magic from the air and use it to rewrite the laws of nature. But that energy must come from somewhere, and it will ultimately go somewhere. I fear that kind of magic."

Mr. Irony took two steps forward and stared into the masked chairman's eyes.

"Magic comes at a price. The more powerful it is, the more dangerous it becomes, and it is often accompanied by a painful cost. My magic is a little trick. It plays a sleight of hand, preventing those dangerous entities from noticing it. That is why I prefer to call it illusion."

The chairman had no interest in Mr. Irony's theories about magic. Right now, he only wanted to know whether the man could kill Homelander.

"That sounds interesting, Mr. Irony, but the purpose of our deal was not to hear you expound upon the origins and development of the magical world."

The chairman paused before continuing, "The blasphemer—the being calling himself 'Homelander'—is now brazenly provoking the Owl Council's dignity. Mr. Irony, we hope you can prove your worth."

"Of course. I will fulfill my responsibility, and you must give me that book."

Mr. Irony's gaze instantly sharpened.

"Otherwise... our relationship will not remain so friendly."

The middle-aged man clearly did not have a particularly amicable relationship with the Owl Council. He casually pointed at an owl mask hanging on the wall and said, "Fireflies Become Mask!"

The moment the incantation was completed, the owl mask on the wall suddenly vanished, replaced by several yellow fireflies that appeared out of thin air.

The fireflies dancing through the air illuminated the somewhat dim council chamber with a brilliant glow.

Thanks to "Fancy Death-Seeking Youth" for the tip.

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