"I've heard that throughout history there have been people who could endure every form of torture imaginable," David said calmly. "Some fighters can suffer through unbearable pain and still refuse to tell their enemies anything."
He held the fifty-cent coin between his fingers. A faint smile appeared on his face, but the look in his eyes carried a cold edge that made the atmosphere uneasy.
"I'll bet fifty cents that you're not one of those people."
The coin flipped lightly across his knuckles as he continued speaking.
"If within half an hour you're not kneeling on the ground crying and telling me everything I want to know—things like your email account and password—then I'll gladly hand you this fifty cents."
Fran's heart trembled slightly.
Still, he exaggerated his reaction, bursting into laughter as if he had just heard a ridiculous joke.
"A seventeen-year-old high school student," he scoffed, "talking about torture. Did you learn that from watching TV?"
Yet the laughter sounded forced.
For some reason, after David finished describing the bet with that calm smile, Fran felt like he was being targeted by something far more terrifying than a lion. A cold shiver crept along his spine, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose.
"David, what are you trying to do?"
Clark's expression changed instantly.
He stepped forward and grabbed David's arm, stopping him from advancing any farther.
The cruel words coming from his younger brother had frightened him as well.
Torture was inhumane. It trampled on human dignity. Clark could hardly believe his brother was capable of suggesting such a thing.
What disturbed him even more was the casual way David had spoken—like someone inviting guests to dinner.
"Clark," David replied coldly, "are you really planning to show compassion at a time like this?"
His gaze remained fixed on Fran as though he were already looking at a corpse.
David had never actually tortured anyone before. But in his mind, it wasn't particularly complicated. Even if he made mistakes, there wouldn't be any serious consequences.
"Absolutely not," Clark said firmly. "What if he refuses to talk?"
Clark gritted his teeth as he tried to hold David back.
From past experience he knew reasoning with his brother rarely worked—especially during urgent situations like this. There simply wasn't enough time to argue logic.
"If he doesn't return by a certain time," Clark said quickly, "those emails will be sent automatically. You might not even have time to interrogate him."
David shrugged lightly.
"Maybe it won't take half an hour," he said. "Ten minutes should be enough."
He stepped forward again, trying to brush Clark aside.
"I doubt someone as despicable and cowardly as him will act like a hero."
"No!"
Clark grabbed David's wrist tightly.
"David, I can't let you risk Mom and Dad."
His voice dropped lower as he tried desperately to persuade his brother.
"Just give him what he wants. It's only a few gangsters who deserve it anyway."
David raised an eyebrow.
He looked at Clark with surprise, as if seeing him for the first time.
"I didn't expect this from you," David said slowly. "Clark, your moral bottom line is more flexible than I thought."
Helping someone commit crimes was clearly illegal.
"I'll do it," Clark said suddenly.
Still gripping David's wrist, he turned to Fran and spoke urgently.
"I promise I'll help you. Go ahead and leave. I'll find you later."
"I'll be waiting," Fran replied with satisfaction.
His eyes flickered briefly toward David before he turned around and walked away quickly.
David tried to step forward, but Clark's grip tightened. If he used too much force, Clark might recognize the difference in strength.
David frowned slightly.
"I don't understand why you'd stop me for the sake of a few gangsters," he said. "That doesn't sound like you, Clark."
Clark finally released his hand after watching Fran disappear into the distance.
"I believe you couldn't catch him anyway," Clark said quietly.
"Human desire is like a stone rolling down a mountain," David replied coldly as he adjusted his sleeves and put the coin back in his pocket. "Once it starts moving, it never stops."
Clark sighed.
"Let me try handling this first."
If Fran was a qualified gambler, then Clark was the exact opposite.
He hesitated. He compromised. And deep down he still hoped luck would solve everything.
But sometimes compromise meant surrender.
"I'll return your words to you," David said.
The two brothers stared at each other silently.
"I can't let you risk our parents," David added.
The logic was simple.
Only a fool would willingly give up a weapon powerful enough to control their entire life.
"You can't satisfy a hyena by feeding it once," David continued. "When it gets hungry again, it will come back."
"That man's appetite will grow bigger and bigger."
"Sooner or later, Mom and Dad will be dragged into this."
Clark clenched his fists.
"David," he said quietly, "you know you're not faster than me."
"If I want to protect someone, you won't be able to catch me."
Both brothers stood their ground.
Clark didn't want to fight with David, but frustration crept into his voice.
"Just let me try once!"
As he spoke, a trace of anger surfaced.
He was the older brother. Yet his younger brother never listened to him—not even once.
"I know," David replied calmly.
He took a small step backward.
"In terms of speed alone, you're at least ten or even dozens of times faster than me."
"If you wanted to escape while carrying someone, I probably wouldn't even be able to touch the corner of your clothes."
"David…" Clark said hopefully.
He thought his brother was finally going to compromise.
"I didn't want to do this."
David sighed softly.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal box.
Click.
The lid opened.
Inside lay a thumb-sized green crystal.
It emitted the familiar radiation of kryptonite.
David lifted the glowing fragment and held it toward Clark like a priest raising a cross to repel a vampire.
"Meteorite…" Clark whispered.
His legs immediately weakened.
The strength drained from his body as if someone had pulled the plug from his power source. He stumbled backward under the eerie green light and barely managed to lean against the wall.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Da… David," he forced out through clenched teeth. "You're actually using meteor rocks against me."
Clark had suffered from kryptonite before.
But he never imagined he would see it used against him by his own brother.
"This… is the meteorite Greg had, isn't it?" Clark asked weakly.
He remembered that David had taken one of those stones earlier.
"You forced my hand, Clark."
David stepped forward calmly.
His fist swung out like a hammer.
Bang!
Clark collapsed instantly, knocked unconscious by the blow.
David crouched down briefly.
Clark lay on the ground breathing slowly, sleeping like a child.
David casually tossed the kryptonite beside him.
The radiation would keep Clark weak and prevent the Son of Krypton from recovering too quickly under sunlight.
Then he turned and left the deserted alley.
At the far end of the town street, Fran leaned casually against a streetlamp.
He waited patiently for what he believed would become the most valuable asset of his life.
Although Clark had promised to find him later, Fran didn't dare wander too far.
He was afraid Clark wouldn't be able to locate him.
"Who are you waiting for?"
A cold voice suddenly spoke behind him.
Fran turned around.
When he saw David standing there, confusion filled his face.
"You?" he asked. "Where's Clark?"
A suspicious expression crept into his eyes.
"Did he change his mind?"
The thought made his face darken instantly.
"No," David replied calmly. "He just can't come right now."
Before Fran could react—
Bang!
David's fist struck downward.
The detective collapsed instantly.
David grabbed the unconscious man like he weighed nothing and disappeared from the street.
…
When Fran woke up again, he found himself inside an abandoned factory.
His entire body was tightly tied to a chair with thick rope.
No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't move.
"You're awake."
The voice came from nearby.
A wooden table stood in the center of the room. A laptop sat on top of it.
David sat behind the table calmly.
He pushed a fifty-cent coin forward across the surface.
Under Fran's horrified gaze, David slowly put on a pair of surgical rubber gloves.
Then he stood up with a faint smile.
"Our bet has begun."
....
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