The day rolled on, and Metropolis quickly returned to its usual rhythm—noisy streets, chattering cafés, the faint echo of cape-tales traded over coffee. The chaos of the bank robbery already felt like yesterday's news.

But one person hadn't stopped thinking about it.

Clark Kent sat at his desk in the Daily Planet, his glasses perched low as he read the latest reports, his mind elsewhere. Not on the robbers. Not on the damage. But on a single face in the crowd.

Johnny.

Clark had seen thousands of faces during rescues—terrified, tearful, astonished, grateful. Even the bravest flinched in the presence of danger. Most people couldn't help but be shaken. That was human.

But Johnny had stood there like he was watching a street magician do a card trick. No fear. No awe. No emotion.

Just peace.

And Clark wasn't suspicious. Not really. He didn't sense anything alien or magical. His instincts weren't flaring up. But his curiosity? That was fully engaged.

Across the bullpen, Johnny strolled in as if the morning's explosion had been background noise. He sat at his desk, sipped his coffee, and opened his laptop with a slight smirk, already typing away at his next story.

Clark watched him for a moment.

Then stood.

He walked over, leaning lightly on the side of Johnny's desk, pretending to glance at a nearby memo. "Morning," he said casually. "You alright? You were near that bank earlier, weren't you?"

Johnny looked up, brow raised slightly, as if trying to remember what Clark was talking about.

"Oh. Yeah." He nodded once. "Loud morning."

"Loud?" Clark chuckled. "It was practically a war zone."

Johnny shrugged. "People overreact sometimes. Robbers didn't have much of a plan. Superman handled it." He glanced at Clark with a lazy half-smile. "Seemed like it was under control."

Clark blinked. Not the reaction he was used to. "So… you weren't scared? Not even surprised?"

Johnny leaned back in his chair. "I mean, if the guy in blue tights is flying in to save the day, you kind of expect it to end quickly, right?" He took another sip of his coffee. "I figured panic wouldn't help."

Clark smiled politely, but his thoughts swirled. He's not wrong… but no reaction at all? No awe?

Still, nothing in Johnny's tone hinted at arrogance. He wasn't putting on an act. He was just… steady.

Clark finally said, "Well, glad you're okay. That kind of calm? Most people would kill for it."

Johnny tilted his head. "You'd be surprised what you can get used to."

That line lingered.

Clark gave him a friendly nod and walked back to his desk, still not suspicious—just fascinated. Something about Johnny felt ancient and new at the same time. Like an old soul in a young frame.

And across the room, Johnny resumed typing—perfectly aware he'd drawn the attention of the world's most powerful man.

He didn't mind. After all… it was just part of the game.

[To Be Continued…]