DC: My Name Is Not Billy Batson

Jason hung up the phone and left the restaurant with his head down. Clark follow him, not even bothering with the waffles and bacon he had ordered.

Along the way, Clark noticed that Jason's anti-tracking abilities were impressive. He almost lost track of him despite having super vision and super hearing.

However, Clark realized that the young man was deliberately leading him in circles and had likely noticed he was being followed.

With no other choice, Clark used the cover of night to ascend to a high altitude, allowing him to observe Jason from above. From this vantage point, he was finally able to track Jason's movements without difficulty.

As he trailed him, Clark wondered, Is this Gotham? Even a teenager under the age of 20 possessed such remarkable skills.

Soon, Jason arrived at an unusually remote location—presumably the place mentioned on the phone.

Clark gasped as he used his clairvoyance. A whirlwind swirled in the sky above a small area, causing the clouds to shift.

Through his vision, he saw that the interior of the warehouse resembled a fortress. Every few meters, there was a sentry.

Over dozens men were inside, all heavily armed with pistols, rifles, grenades, and even RPGs.

Clark's expression grew solemn. Despite knowing he was invulnerable, he had never faced a situation like this before.

 As a good boy and law-abiding citizen, he had never encountered such sight before him made his heart race.

But the thought of an innocent mother and child waiting for his help inside the warehouse left him no room for hesitation. Steeling himself, Clark resolved to go in.

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Jason followed the gun-wielding Clown gang member into the warehouse, where a man greeted him with a grotesque, purple-lipped grin. his face was pale, his lips blood-red, and his green hair.

He was the Clown—the world's most notorious criminal and madman, someone who had reshaped the battle between heroes and villains.

"My dear Jason, you're finally here. I've waited far too long, far too long," the Joker crooned.

Jason's looked to the other side of the room, where a woman was bound to an iron water pipe. Her fingers were broken, and her condition was pitiful.

"Mom!" Jason was overwhelmed, Though he had been estranged from his mother for years, all his past resentment vanished the moment he saw her.

"What a touching reunion," the Joker sneered. "But I have some good news for you."

The Joker laughed maniacally and continued, "Jason, the great Batman's sidekick—Mr. Robin—do you know who leaked your identity to me?"

He pointed a long, bony finger at the injured woman. Jason froze at place.

"It's her, your beloved mother! Isn't that hilarious? She recognized you instantly—because you're her son. But here's the kicker—she's also a member of the Clown gang. Hahaha!"

"You let her go, I'll do whatever you want."

Jason said, despite the betrayal, Jason still wanted to save his mother.

Tears welled in the woman's eyes. she whispered, "leave me alone, Jason, go."

"Oh, how touching!" The Joker pretended to wipe a tear before pulling out a bloodstained crowbar. "Let's see just how much you love your dear mother."

With a cruel smile, he swung the crowbar, hits Jason's collarbone. Jason clenched his teeth, refusing to scream, not wanting to give the Joker the satisfaction.

The Joker scowled at the lack of reaction and swung harder, the sound of steel meeting flesh and bone echoing through the warehouse.

Jason's mother wept silently, her whispers turning into pleas. "Please… spare him. Spare my son…"

Boom ——!

At that moment, Clark, dressed in a blue suit, descended, opening a large hole in the ceiling of the warehouse.

"What the hell is that?" the Joker snapped, annoyed at the interruption.

Clark stepped through the billowing smoke, his expression serious. This was his first time stepping into such a scene, and though he felt nervous, he was ready.

"That's enough."

Clark walked with a serious expression, this was his first appearance, and he was a little nervous.

Overwhelmed by the betrayal he overheard from above, Clark had hesitated for a moment, arriving just a little late.

Jason, barely conscious, squinted at the man in the red cape standing before him. Does Gotham have someone like this?

But just in time, he looked in his mother's direction and tried to move his body there.

The Joker quickly regained his composure, mockery dripping from his words. "Who are you? A circus clown?"

Clark sighed, unimpressed. "Unlawful detention and aggravated assault? you belong in jail."

"It turned out to be a Boy Scout, shoot him!"

The gang members opened fire, unloading their rifles. Bullets struck Clark's chest and face, flattening bullet shell before falling to the floor.

The room fell silent, eyes wide with shock. Even Jason, writhing on the floor, stared in disbelief.

"What kind of body armor is that?" one of the gang members murmured, only for his question to be answered by a ricocheted bullet bouncing off Clark's face.

The Joker, now irritated, yelled, "Shoot the two on the ground!" He slipped away in the commotion, leaving his henchmen to carry out his orders.

Clark's expression hardened, and he quickly grab Jason and place along with mother aside.

When the gang reloading, he disarmed them, bending their weapons and rendering them useless. Using nearby iron rods, he restrained the gang members.

As Clark turned back to Jason and his mother, their embrace brought a brief moment of relief. But just as it seemed over, vents around the warehouse hissed, releasing gas.

Clark inhaled deeply before realizing it was laughing gas. Holding his breath wasn't enough—it had already entered his system. Before long, uncontrollable laughter burst from his lips.

As he fought to steady himself, the sound of ticking reached his ears, confirming his worst fear: bombs were rigged all around the warehouse.

"Die laughing, baby!" the Joker's maniacal voice boomed over the radio.

The ticking intensified, coming from every corner. He wanted to save everyone, but the effects of the laughing gas, made it hard, making it difficult to control his strength.

Resolving himself, Clark moved quickly. He grabbed Jason and his mother, one in each arm, and flew straight up into the sky.

As soon as he left the warehouse, the bomb exploded, and A fiery explosion erupted below, the flames stretching toward him as though trying to grab him. The heat licked at the soles of his feet, but he fly higher until the inferno felt into the distance past.

Clark found a safe clearing and gently set Jason and his mother down. He took a deep breath, inhaling fresh air to flush the laughing gas from his lungs. Slowly, the uncontrollable laughter subsided.

However, Jason and his mother were still under the gas's influence. They laughed hysterically, tears streaming down their faces, their breathing labored.

Clark's x-ray vision revealed that the laughter had worsened their injuries, but he had no idea how to help them.

Desperate, Clark pulled out his phone and dialed Dane.

"This is Dane," came the familiar voice on the other end.

"Dane, it's me—Clark."

"Oh? Aren't you in Gotham? Why are you calling me?"

"I... I'm in trouble..." Clark admitted.

"Gotham is trouble every day. Be specific."

Clark quickly recounted the events. Dane's response was direct.

"Don't hang up. Wait for me."

Clark didn't understand what Dane was planning but obeyed without question. As Two minutes passed, and just as Clark was about to speak, a massive spaceship descended from the sky. Clark recognized it instantly—it was the one they had found in north pole.

The ship hovered in mid-air, and its tail hatch opened. Dane's voice came through the phone again, sharp and commanding: "Why are you standing there? Bring them to the medical pod, now!"

"Oh!" Clark snapped out of his daze. He scooped up Jason and his mother, still laughing uncontrollably, and flew into the ship's cabin.

The hatch sealed shut as the spaceship rose at breakneck speed, disappearing into the night sky in the blink of an eye.

Not long after, a sleek, unusually shaped car screeched to a halt near the smoldering ruins of the warehouse.

A tall, muscular figure in a black suit stepped out. He surveyed the scene, his gaze fixed on the fiery wreckage. Realization dawned on him, and he fell to his knees, crying out in anguish:

"No—! Jason!"