Lois Lane, the ace reporter of The Daily Planet, queen of trouble, and Superman's not-so-secret kryptonite.
To most of the world, she's the fearless journalist who dives headfirst into chaos, ard only with a pen, a cara, and an absurd faith that the Man of Steel will swoop in to save her.
To Adam, though, she was sothing else entirely—a living magnet for disaster.
And now, here she was, stirring up trouble with the South Arican customs officers.
Adam's eyes darted around instinctively. No red capes. No hovering shadows in the sky. No glowing alien demigod ready to split mountains for her.
'Where the hell is Superman?'
'Great,' Adam thought bitterly. 'If she's here, it ans chaos is already circling the drain. And guess who's standing right next to it?'
"Hah… well, if it isn't the famous Miss Lois Lane of The Daily Planet," Adam said with a sudden flash of inspiration, stepping forward with a grin that scread faux-charm. "I'm sure half the world's celebrities, politicians, and billionaires would kill for an interview with you. And ? I'm lucky enough to bump into you here."
He deliberately dropped her full na in his greeting, making sure every customs officer in earshot heard it. After all, if there's one thing even corrupt officials fear, it's global dia exposure, and no drug-running general wants to be branded a warlord in The Daily Planet.
As expected, the customs officers hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances. The tension softened just enough for Adam to pounce. He stepped closer, smiling like an old friend, and shook the hand of the head officer.
"You're doing a fine job," Adam said warmly, slipping the man a firm handshake, and a fat stack of bills pald discreetly. "But Miss Lane? She's a VIP. Personally invited by General Lionel himself. Definitely not a spy. I'm sure you understand."
The officer felt the weight of the bribe and the weight of the na "Lois Lane" in the sa instant. His face cracked into a smile. "Ah, yes… of course. No problem at all, sir."
He stepped aside, waving her through.
Within minutes, the once-hostile customs crew was grinning at Adam like they'd been drinking buddies for years.
Lois Lane, for her part, stood watching the entire exchange with an amused glimr in her eyes. When Adam finished smoothing things over, she offered him a smile.
"Thank you, mister… Adam, isn't it?" she said, her voice warm but assessing. "Or should I say Chief Inspector Adam, Gotham's new rising star? Nice to finally et you."
Adam froze, caught off guard. 'Wait… what?'
Since the day he'd landed in this world, Adam prided himself on reading people, figuring them out before they figured out him. But this ti, Lois had completely blindsided him.
"Miss Lane is truly remarkable," Adam said, bowing his head slightly in mock admiration. "But I have to ask—how did you guess who I am? Detectives like are supposed to hide our identities. If I slip up, I'll end up as a cautionary tale on the evening news."
Lois's smirk widened and replied, "San Pedro Sula is on lockdown. Only the inspection team gets in. I already know the United Nations folks and the other reporters. That leaves… Gotham. And let's face it, the youngest Chinese detective to ever rise to Chief Inspector? That's you. It wasn't exactly a tough puzzle."
Adam couldn't help but chuckle and think, 'Damn, she's good.'
"Why risk coming here by land?" Adam asked, shifting gears. "Most reporters would've flown in with the others. It's dangerous traveling like this."
Lois's eyes glinted with mischief. "Isn't it the sa for you? Besides, I'm not alone. The Daily Planet sent a knight to watch my back…"
At the word knight, Adam felt a spark of electricity jolt through him. Superman.
Was this it? After all this ti in this crazy world, would he finally see the Man of Steel up close?
He tried to keep his tone casual. "Ah, so your… knight. Is it Jimmy with the cara? Or maybe…"
Before he could finish, a calm voice with a Texas accent rang out from behind him.
"Lois, I brought the iced drink you wanted."
Adam turned, and there he was.
A broad-shouldered man walked into the room, wearing a crisp blue suit and black-rimd glasses, his hair slicked back to perfection. The heat didn't touch him—while everyone else looked like they'd been wrestling the humidity, this guy looked like he'd just stepped off a magazine cover. He held a bottle of Coke in one hand, condensation dripping like it had been pulled from the heavens.
Lois gave him a playful look. "Took you long enough, farm boy. And seriously? Regular Coke? You've known for years and still can't rember I drink Zero Sugar?" She turned and handed it to Adam with a smirk. "Here. You look like you need it more than ."
Adam didn't move. His eyes were wide, his hand trembling slightly. He was looking at Clark Kent the way a small-town kid might look at a god walking into his backyard.
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