Locke: My Damn Charm

Lionel's question jolted Locke back to his senses.

Only then did he realize that the gently smiling man before him was one of the financial backers of the largest chamber of commerce alliance in America.

The man's peculiar warmth had nearly made him forget that fact.

Locke smiled helplessly.

He knew better than anyone that this so-called "tax reform" was nothing more than a decorative bargaining chip used by urban capital groups to win the support of legislators from agricultural states.

Those powerful figures had never even deliberately intended to wipe out small farms—

Just as people picking mulberry leaves would not care if a silkworm cocoon fell to the ground.

But...

Who could have imagined that these few overlooked cocoons

Would ultimately become one of the culprits behind a global financial storm?

"Sorry, Mr. Locke."

Seeing that he did not answer immediately, Lionel smiled apologetically. "I was just curious."

"Logically speaking, these policies should allow family farms to participate in market competition more freely."

"But you still don't seem to like them very much?"

"Mr. Lionel."

Locke hesitated for a moment.

"You've stood too high up for too long."

Outside the window, waves of wheat rustled, as if echoing his words.

"Some blond kid once said—"

Pointing toward the harvested wheat field in the distance, Locke smiled. "Among the wild wheat growing out in the fields, there are always a few stalks that won't make it to next year."

"They rot and mold because they can't compete with the wheat that occupies more land."

"In the end, they become nourishment for the other wheat."

"Isn't that normal?" Lionel frowned slightly. "The market naturally eliminates inefficient farms."

Of course.

Locke sighed inwardly.

The first reaction of these business magnates was always "market optimization and structural adjustment."

"Mr. Lionel, as a friend, I still hope you won't underestimate the butterflies behind those decorative bargaining chips."

"This isn't natural elimination." Locke shook his head. "When large farms can use their scale advantage and exploit policy loopholes to obtain more subsidies, it crushes small farms like ours!"

"This is unfair competition!"

"Those of us lacking market information and bargaining power"

"Are like unarmed people walking into a modern war."

"That's right, Locke."

"Mr. Lionel." Jonathan approached with a cup of coffee and handed it to the pensive man. "If I'm not mistaken, the AFBF still contributed the most money to this round of political donations, right?"

He shrugged helplessly. "Our NFU proposal."

"I'm afraid it'll rot on Capitol Hill again."

Taking the coffee, Lionel did not respond immediately.

But Locke could see the rapid calculations in his eyes behind those lenses.

The Luthor family business tycoon was reevaluating the situation.

He took a sip of coffee, and its rich bitterness sharpened his mind.

Damn it.

He had actually overlooked this.

After all...

Thirty to forty percent of LuthorCorp's current business was spread across town banks in agricultural states.

And at this moment,

Their transition into technology and military industry was not even halfway complete.

If small farmers began going bankrupt afterward, the resulting butterfly effect...

"I'll reevaluate some of the proposals."

Letting out a breath, Lionel's eyes brightened. He set down his coffee cup and turned to Locke.

"Mr. Locke."

There was rare sincerity in his voice.

"My invitation stands permanently. I sincerely hope to build a grander empire with you!"

"Pfft!"

On the other side, Jonathan, who had been looking out the window, could not hold back and sprayed coffee all over the glass.

He looked at Lionel in disbelief.

As though trying to confirm whether the man was still sane.

After all, when Locke was nineteen, he had borrowed eight hundred bucks from him, claiming he wanted to go out and make his way in the world.

After Jonathan angrily chewed him out, the kid had refused to admit defeat and secretly gone to Martha for another eight hundred dollars.

And in the end,

He had begged his way back from Metropolis to Smallville. If Old Bob next door, who drove for Dayun, had not recognized the kid on the highway at Gotham's city limits,

This guy probably would have starved to death on the road.

Ignoring Jonathan, who was wiping the window while keeping both eyes fixed on him, Locke secretly reveled in it.

Learn, Dio!

This was your old man's damn charm.

But no matter how pleased he was inwardly, Locke still considered how to refuse.

He knew exactly what he was capable of.

"Mr. Lionel." He shook his head. "We're friends, but becoming business partners is still too far beyond us."

"?"

The words stunned Lionel.

His pupils widened slightly behind his gold-rimmed glasses, as if he were truly seeing the man in work pants before him for the first time.

"Sorry, Locke."

After a brief silence, Lionel's lips curved into a sincere smile. "I got too carried away."

Noticing that the other man had naturally dropped the "Mr." suffix, Locke understood and extended his hand, clasping Lionel's in midair.

"Watch it, Lionel." He winked. "I don't want to keep discussing monopoly bills at the dinner table in the future."

"Time to eat!"

Accompanied by the sweet fragrance of blueberry pie, Martha's voice came from the kitchen, interrupting the business tycoon's pleasantries.

"Come have some pie!"

She stood in the doorway with a freshly baked pie in her hands, flour still dusting her apron. The warm yellow light outlined her in a soft glow.

"Thank you."

"Then let me try the Kent family's cooking."

Lionel stood up.

Who would have thought that this sharply dressed elite would be having lunch in a simple farmhouse kitchen?

"Hahahaha." Jonathan laughed as he threw an arm around Lionel's shoulders. "Come on, brother! Martha's pie could make angels give up Heaven!"

His thick arm carried an irresistible enthusiasm, nearly crumpling Lionel's tailored suit.

Watching the two men walk toward the dining table, Locke slowly sipped his now-cold coffee.

What was this?

No dumplings, so they were making pie instead?

Locke laughed soundlessly and could not help looking out the window.

He hoped those three little guys would come back happily to eat pie too.

Leaves brushed against one another with a soft rustling sound, while patches of unharvested oats swayed beneath the sun.

"Dio, why don't Dad, Mom, and Uncle Locke like the Internal Revenue Service?"

"Because they're vampires, Clark."

"Dad said the big cities outside are full of people like that. When he first entered the city back then, they sucked him dry."

"Vampires?!"

Clark's blue eyes widened. "Like the ones in Vampire Hunter D we watched before?"

Dio paused, surprise flashing through his red eyes.

He stroked his chin and thought for a moment, then suddenly realized that it actually made sense.

"Time is money, and money is life. By that logic, rich people really aren't much different from vampires."

"Huh?!" Clark looked at the little bald boy beside him in panic, his voice cracking. "Then what about Lex?!"

Sunlight shone on Luthor's gleaming bald head, reflecting a comical spot of light.

Staring at the sight, Dio suddenly grinned mischievously.

"Lex? He counts as half a vampire."

He deliberately lowered his voice, imitating a movie narrator.

"So, little baldy, interested in teaming up with me to become Vampire Hunters?"