American comic book: My Father is Superman, am I just an NPC?

Chapter 100 Superman Turns Dark? Back in the Marvel Cinematic Universe! [10k]

Under normal circumstances, Ian cannot close his mouth at all.

However, in order to avoid having two red eyes, driven to the brink of collapse by his interrogation, sneak up on his bedside tonight, he could only immediately bury his head and stuff his mouth full of food.

That's too difficult!
Who says Superman can't be a story to scare kids? Feeling the heavy, mountain-like fatherly love on his shoulders, Ian chose to follow his heart, putting on an expression that said he had figured something out.

to be frank.

He didn't think those so-called superhuman potions could create superhumans. After all, he didn't gain much experience after drinking them, which showed that the technology and ruthlessness involved were simply not up to par.

of course.

Louise and the others present were clearly unaware of this.

"I see."

Louise's doubts and confusion vanished, leaving only a sense of wonder at the strange connection between Ian and Clark. She truly believed Clark's seemingly logical explanation.

Clark breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing this. He knew that his super brain was meant for this kind of thing, and he had to use every means to maintain the harmony and stability of the family.

Despicable?
Clark felt somewhat despicable.

but.

"Please bear with Ian a little; this family will win." Clark was beginning to understand some of Batman's past plans based on weighing the pros and cons. After today, he felt he could forgive Batman's past actions a little more.

It was truly a situation with no other choice. After all, Clark couldn't very well say that Batman had told him before that Ian might be able to draw power from writing, could he? Even if Louise didn't believe it, Clark would still be skeptical even after seeing it with his own eyes. He bet that if he dared to say that, Louise would dare to make a pair of scissors out of kryptonite.

"Honey, which part would you like to cut first?"

The super brain even allowed Clark to connect every possible outcome to his choices in minute detail.

Therefore.

Even the invincible Superman can't afford to gamble. Ian's stable reputation provides excellent cover for him; in fact, no one really doubts whether Ian's haphazard eating is reasonable.

After all, this makes perfect sense for Ian.

Both have received a confirmed diagnosis from a doctor.

"This is fantastic."

Seeing this, Jonathan couldn't help but speak up.

"With such amazing superhuman milk powder, why don't you let me have a sip? I think I can still be saved..." If given the chance, he would certainly want to be a second-generation superhero.

Even if the price is never being able to play rugby again.

A little disappointed.

However, following in one's father's footsteps is clearly more attractive and cost-effective than playing rugby.

"We can't be sure yet whether that drug really has the effect of awakening your dormant genes. We can't let you risk your life to test it."

Sam's serious reminder saved Clark some brain cells.

“Yes, darling, Ian might be an exception.” Louise quickly tried to persuade Jonathan, knowing that Ian’s ability to obtain Kryptonian power was very likely due to his exceptional ability.

Perhaps pica gave Ian an overly powerful digestive system.

Aliens.

Ultimately, they are all different.

Perhaps Ian has a corresponding special organ in his body.

Louise didn't want to believe Ian was sick, so she had long ago found a reasonable explanation for Ian's pica—you can't use Earthlings' diets to dictate aliens' diets.

"Ok."

Jonathan was slightly disappointed upon hearing this.

This is exactly what Clark didn't want to see. He had kept his situation a secret because he was afraid of seeing this happen. As Superman, he didn't know how to comfort his eldest son at this moment.

The Kryptonian gene.

Once awakened, that's it. If you're not awakened, there's nothing anyone can do. Using other means to awaken someone will only lead to endless troubles. Clark has seen many humans lose control after being contaminated by Kryptonian genes.

Just when Clark was in a dilemma.

"I think I'll go back to playing my football. Maybe my son will awaken someday? That would be great." As the eldest son in the family, Jonathan is very considerate of his family.

He didn't make things difficult for Clark any further, and even lightly joked, "Of course, just like Ian always says, the poor rely on mutations and the rich rely on technology."

"Mom and Dad, when are you going to go bankrupt so I can take a gamble?" Jonathan certainly has a knack for humor, and the atmosphere at the dinner table immediately eased considerably.

Ian also emptied his plate at this point.

“It’s alright, Jonathan. I’ve been studying magic lately. Once I’ve figured it out, I’ll teach you the supreme Ian Divine Arts, and I promise I won’t charge you a single penny of interest or tuition.”

No one believed Ian. Everyone thought he was just trying to lighten the mood, and everyone kept laughing. He didn't care and just took the opportunity to steal the freshly grilled beef ribs from Jonathan's plate.

The atmosphere at dinner improved considerably.

The warmth of family is palpable.

After eating and drinking his fill, General Sam Lane prepared to leave.

“I will continue to follow up on the investigation into Luther.” He was impeccably dressed in his military uniform, his tone steady. “I will inform Clark directly of any news—Clark does indeed need to know about the Krypton affair.”

That makes a lot of sense.

This lessened Clark's resentment a little.

“Perhaps you could investigate this place.” Ian rummaged under the table, tossed aside the cat hidden in the drawer, and marked some areas on a map.

“Very good. If any major cases are solved, I will apply to the military for a reward for you as the informant.” Sam smiled as he took the map, without asking Ian where he got the information. After all, the person who initially “reported the case” was his little grandson, and General Sam assumed that Clark must have been training the awakened kid’s abilities.

A reasonable judgment.

A wonderful misunderstanding.

Clark offered no explanation. Sam glanced at his watch, hugged each of his three grandsons, and when it was Ian's turn, Ian quietly asked a question.

"As for the bonus, after the military officials take their kickbacks, will I still get one percent of the full amount?" This is important, mainly because Ian is afraid that the military will report his taxes based on the amount before the kickbacks were taken—the US military is really capable of doing such a thing, and Ian doesn't want to receive no benefit and then have to pay back taxes himself.

"..."

Sam fell silent, taken aback by Ian's serious demeanor.

"Don't worry, you won't be shortchanged by a single penny. There are relevant standards for this." Sam assured Ian, not wanting to mention to his juniors that he was one of those who took kickbacks.

"Thank you Grandpa."

Upon hearing this, Ian finally embraced old Sam.

"I send you."

Louise saw her father to the door.

The night is dark.

The streets were eerily quiet.

“Lucy, our project mainly involves using Kryptonian genes to create human super soldiers. If it proves safe... I will try to get you a chance.”

Old Sam glanced at the lights on in the house, lowered his voice, and whispered to his daughter.

"I do not need."

Louise resolutely refused.

however.

Old Sam's attitude was firm: "No, you need to. Look at your home. You married a god, and at least in terms of the power he possesses, Clark is that living god."

"And you? You're just an ordinary person. Just as frail as you were when you were a child. In this increasingly dangerous world, no one can say for sure what will happen next."

He took Louise's hand.

His eyes held a particularly complex expression.

Louise opened her mouth, but couldn't refute it.

Even so, I don't need it.

She simply stuck to her own stance.

See this.

Old Sam didn't try to persuade her further. He knew how stubborn his daughter was; this was the reason Louise became an excellent journalist, and also a personality trait that he always found troublesome.

"Honey, let's leave here." Old Sam led Louise to the outside of the small yard, preparing to walk towards the top-of-the-line Hummer he had acquired through kickbacks.

"Wait a minute, Dad, I'm still a little worried. You have to swear to me in Grandma's name that I really won't see my cloned husband or cloned son on the street."

Louise stopped old Sam, still looking slightly uneasy.

"..."

Sam understood why Ian had silenced him earlier; it was all due to his stereotypes about the military. Such blatant suspicion of the military left Sam speechless.

after all.

Lack of confidence.

"You can't replicate a completely new living Kryptonian just by using a few Kryptonian corpses. You think too highly of our scientists. I really regret not forcing you to study more back then."

“Only after reading enough books will you understand that truly capable scientists look down on the meager salaries we offer, even if they received their full salaries, it wouldn’t amount to much,” Sam said softly, letting out a heavy sigh. It was unclear whether he was worried about Louise’s education or the future of scientific research within the military.

"..."

Louise wanted to get some alcohol, but unfortunately, she couldn't find any in her pockets. She had learned how serious the corruption problem was in the military, so as a reporter, she was now somewhat troubled by her professional ethics.

Go investigate?
What if you find out that your own father is the number one corrupt official?
“I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink tonight. Go home now.” Louise hugged her father, Sam kissed her forehead, and turned to get into his Hummer.

He took one last look at Louise's little yard.

"Your new car is nice."

Old Sam left behind a meaningful message, and then, relying on his military license plate, ignored the speed limit in the community, started his Hummer, and sped away.

"what?"

I watched my father disappear.

Louise wandered back into the yard, puzzled, and sure enough, she saw a new car next to the roses she had planted... Where did this gleaming Hellcat come from?
Who could resist this car?

Louise looked on in astonishment and couldn't help but lean closer out of curiosity.

……

inside the house.

Jonathan and Jordan watched TV again. The TV was showing a replay of a baseball game, and Jonathan whistled when the pitcher threw a beautiful curveball.

"That was a really good shot."

Clark was washing dishes, but he didn't forget to watch the game through the wall.

Ian doesn't really like watching these sports.

"Spit it out! Was it you? If it wasn't you, you would have seen it too!" He sat on the carpet and rubbed the little orange cat's belly hard, trying to feel if there were two vials of medicine that he hadn't drunk.

"Ian, how do you think I should expose Mom?" Jordan was multitasking, still conceiving his grand plan. He was convinced that Louise was definitely Superwoman.

"I suggest you hang up posters of Supergirl all over your room, buy a bunch of Supergirl merchandise, and pretend you're obsessed with her. I think someone will tell you the answer then."

Ian offered his advice.

"Isn't this too obvious?"

Jordan frowned, as if considering whether the plan was feasible.

"To be honest, I don't think Mom would run that far to become a superwoman. She cut her hand last week." Jonathan is probably the most logical person in the family.

"Then who do you think Superwoman will be?"

Jordan looked at his older brother.

Jonathan leaned back on the sofa with both hands.

"It's obvious."

The guy just chuckled softly.

“Look at his physique, look at his height, and that erratic behavior… I think the answer is obvious.” His gaze locked onto Ian, who was sitting on the carpet.

"what!"

Jordan's pupils contracted.

It dawned on me.

You're saying Supergirl is Ian!?

Jordan thought this speculation was reasonable, after all, he knew Ian's secret: the high heels and stockings from that day were a psychological trauma that had made him lose interest in those two things for the rest of his life.

He knew that Ian loved wearing women's clothing, or at least he thought he knew.

"Someone's mouth is spewing filth." Ian was furious. He didn't need super hearing to catch Jordan's slander, so he grabbed a baseball and slammed it at Jordan.

Jordan tried to hide.

But he soon discovered that he didn't need to move.

"Depend on!"

Jonathan, sitting next to Jordan, got a slap on the forehead. "Jordan is talking nonsense, but I'm not talking nonsense. I mean, do you know who Supergirl is?"

talking.

He took out his cell phone.

A video surfaced showing a reporter interviewing Supergirl, with a man in stockings charging for photos behind her—upon seeing this, Ian realized he had wronged his brother.

"Bang~ Bang~"

He stood up, picked up the baseball that had rolled back, walked over to the sofa, and hit Jordan twice on the forehead. Under Jordan's bewildered gaze, he secured the fairness that belonged to Jonathan.

Do you know who Supergirl is?

Jordan wanted to complain, but he was more concerned about the issue at hand. And just as Ian was about to offer further advice, suggesting Jordan go and cause trouble for his father, Clark...

"Ian, come here."

Clark appeared silently behind him.

Feeling guilty, Ian's hair stood on end.

"Dad, is there something you need? Do you need me to clean the living room for you?" Ian turned around and blinked, his eyes exceptionally clear.

“No, it’s about that potion. I have a bad feeling about it. You need to let me find a place to study it.” Clark held an empty plastic bottle in his hand.

"..."

Ian was beginning to understand what Clark meant.

He hated his own unparalleled wisdom.

“Careful people know they shouldn’t reveal their biological information to anyone, Dad. I want to cultivate this kind of caution from a young age.” Ian politely declined the request.

"Ok?"

Clark looked speechless. "I haven't seen you find a separate place to pee and poop every day. Your grandfather and his gang collect all the excrement in our neighborhood every day."

His words made Ian's eyes widen.

"That's because I can't fly, so the conditions are limited. If I could fly, I would definitely go to Mars to poop and pee every day." Ian wasn't really worried about what others would do with his biometric information.

He became stronger through his professional skills.

Who knows how mixed up the contents of excrement are? If scientists in America really want to analyze his biological information from it, they are likely to face a real test.

"Go to the toilet and pee."

Clark, following his strict father's instructions, didn't want to waste time talking nonsense with Ian.

"okay."

Ian accepted the plastic bottle with a very nonchalant air, and went into the bathroom amidst his two brothers' laughter. Five minutes later, Ian emerged from the bathroom without the plastic bottle.

He was carrying Clark's washbasin.

It was filled with a suspicious yellow liquid.

"Crack~"

Clark slapped himself on the forehead.

Very loud.

"The plastic bottle you gave me is too small. You may not know it, but next time I go to the toilet, Dad can peek at it and he'll know I'm definitely not lying."

Ian quickly offered an explanation.

He also looked for other containers.

but.

If it's something convenient, who could refuse Superman's washbasin?
in the living room.

The two older brothers laughed even louder.

“I proved to Ian that he tells at least 20% of the truth every day.” Jordan, always one to stir things up, pretended to be serious, while Jonathan marveled at Ian’s enormous bladder.

That's a whole potful!

"Cheng Hui, three hundred US dollars."

Ian handed the washbasin to Clark.

"Three hundred dollars for a single pee? What, is your grandfather planning to send you to the army? Are you starting to learn traditional skills now?" Clark reluctantly took his washbasin.

His eye twitched slightly.

He was certainly aware of what was going on within the military.

"This is the market price, okay?" Ian's voice was confident, and he certainly had the right to say so. "Do you know how much technology is actually in this pee I've put in?"

"It'll scare you to death if I tell you... It might not scare you, Dad, but it will scare a lot of other people." Ian was truly telling the truth, leaving Clark and his two brothers stunned.

"Protein powder is not a technology."

Jonathan thought Ian was referring to the protein powder he had secretly consumed.

"How do you know I only drink protein powder?" Ian's question made Jonathan look directly at the top of his head, but Jonathan did not see the possible sharp point.

"Alright, alright, here's three hundred dollars, okay?" Clark was utterly helpless. He slapped three hundred dollars into Ian's hand, then thought for a moment and added another two hundred dollars. He was mainly worried that if he didn't contribute to the dinner arrangement, who knew if his toothbrush cup would also suffer the consequences.

really.

People.

You still can't do bad things.

"Thank you dad."

Ian took the money and ran off, leaving the two guys and Clark, who was holding the basin, standing there. Then, with a whoosh, Clark disappeared and reappeared, having put the basin somewhere else.

And at this time.

Suddenly, the front door was flung open, and Louise stumbled in, looking utterly terrified, immediately drawing the attention of the three men in the living room.

"what happened to you?"

Clark rushed over to check on him.

"That car outside...whose is it? It's the car I mentioned when I was young, saying I really liked it, but you said you couldn't afford it. I thought you were very honest, so I decided to marry you!"

Louise had some language confusion and let the children hear some old stories. Her face was full of disbelief, and it was clear that she was experiencing a great deal of emotional turmoil.

"Hellcat! Yes, that's it! Where did this car come from?"

Louise's voice was several octaves higher than usual.

"It's Ian's car."

Clark responded with a weary sigh.

"I knew it was his!" Louise rushed to the wine cabinet, pulled out a bottle of red wine, opened the cap, and chug it down her throat.

"Um, that car is pretty strange."

Clark didn't know how to respond, and could only manage a dry, awkward laugh. Feeling guilty for having Ian take the blame at dinner, the elderly father felt he had to find a way to help Ian keep the car.

He started to think.

Meanwhile, "Can you believe it? That car actually asked me to get it two blankets and even played a weather forecast saying it would be very cold tonight! I've never encountered anything so bizarre in my life!"

Louise finished a bottle of red wine in one go, and her mood calmed down a bit.

Hear the words.

Jonathan and Jordan turned their heads at the same time, their eyes shining as if they had discovered a new continent.

"What!?"

"A talking car?! How cool?!" Boys are always attracted to these strange and unusual things, as if they don't even think it's strange that a car needs a blanket.

Also normal.

After all, most American boys, if they had a car like that, would even sleep on the floor while the car sleeps on the bed.

"Forehead……"

Louise leaned against the wine cabinet and casually pulled out a second bottle of red wine. "It doesn't speak directly, but it can transmit voice signals, you know, like... a Transformer?"

talking.

Mom gulped down another bottle of red wine.

"What! Transformers! Isn't that even cooler?!" The two brothers exclaimed in unison, instantly jumping up from the sofa and rushing to the window, their noses almost touching the glass as they looked out.

“Ian and I are the closest, he’ll definitely lend it to me!”

"Damn it, I have to take my driver's license test tomorrow!"

"You're still too young, you can't seize the opportunity, give the chance to your older brother... I haven't even awakened my superhuman genes yet, I need some comfort!"

……

The two brothers are arguing.

Louise's face turned slightly flushed after drinking two bottles of red wine.

She staggered toward the storage room.

"Darling, what are you going to do?"

Clark quickly followed, his tone slightly tense. He was very worried that Louise intended to smash Ian's car, which he felt would inevitably cause a new wave of family conflicts.

however.

“Of course, it’s to get blankets for the Transformers.” Louise paused, then took another sip of her drink. “Hmm, everything seems so reasonable after drinking.”

"That car says it can fly. If I cover it with a blanket and praise it to Ian, it'll be willing to take me flying once." Louise busied herself without looking back.

"..."

Clark watched as his wife grabbed two comforters and rushed into the backyard.

He was left alone, looking utterly helpless.

The elderly father wanted to talk to his two sons, but unexpectedly, Jonathan and Jordan also ran from the window to the door, looking like they wanted to go with their mother to take care of Ian's little car.

"What! It can fly!"

"I've only ever seen cars like this in movies!"

Jonathan and Jordan's voices were filled with amazement and longing. Seeing his two sons running into the yard, Clark suddenly felt that he, the "world's most powerful superhero," was a bit superfluous.

"Actually, I can fly too. Anyone want to go for a ride with Superman?" Clark leaned against the door frame, even using his super voice slightly.

only.

Even with the most amazing vocal fry, no one responded.

No one even turned around.

The only response he received was the car radio playing "I Believe I Can Fly" coming from the yard.

Slightly sarcastic.

"..."

Clark suddenly wasn't so keen on keeping his youngest son's car anymore.

He looked somewhat lonely.

The only thing I could do was pick up the cat that ran to the door to comfort myself.

"Let me think, what should your name be, lucky little guy?"

Clark glanced up at the second floor as the cat trembled—the culprit's room was still lit. In the bedroom upstairs, Ian was sitting cross-legged in front of the computer, reading today's news.

More than a dozen news web pages were open on the screen.

Shocking! Mysterious Street Collapse Incidents: Experts Suggest Mass Hysteria

"Aliens or Government Experiment? All Comatose Citizens Recover, Raising Questions"

Eyewitnesses claim to have seen two aliens fighting to the death—is it a new type of hallucinogenic poison?

Perhaps, silently and unseen, an unsung hero saved 8,650 people in a mysterious crisis!

……

At first, there wasn't much news about it.

Seeing the last piece of praise filled with positive energy, Ian really didn't know whether to be happy or sad. It was surprising that no one knew that it was their ancestors who had created so much merit!

"If I had known no one would sue, I would have kept my ancestors' names." Ian suspected that in this world where superheroes roam, the government might have a special fund for maintaining order and protecting superheroes after their deaths.

As he continued browsing, he saw many news articles praising unsung heroes, but no one knew who they were. Ian couldn't resist sneaking into Jordan's room to retrieve his "lost" phone.

"Have any reporters found you?" Ian sent all those melodramatic photos to Madison, a young delinquent, and also sent a text message to test the waters.

The young delinquent girl stayed up late, and her new phone responded incredibly fast.

【Yes, yes! But I said I didn't remember anything, and chased away all the reporters. My acting was superb! ()】 The little punk's reply did not earn Ian's praise.

This, in turn, confirmed to Ian that he was indeed feeling slightly unwell.

“Although I’m not from my homeland, I’m superstitious. I’m afraid the good deeds won’t come to me.” Ian knew that in this world, there really was a saying that good people go to heaven.

Moreover, he knew that the angels in Heaven were all idle and irresponsible. What if his merits were actually underestimated? Who could he complain to? The subtle worry in Ian's heart made him decide to do something.

Think of this.

Ian's eyes lit up instantly.

"Crackling~"

Over the next few hours, Ian began using his lightning-fast reflexes to register hundreds of accounts on various forums, frantically playing the role of a "survivor" to educate the public about who saved the world—after all, it was stopping the Demon King's son's plot to descend to earth, which could indeed be considered a kind of world-saving act.

He was the king of computer viruses.

An icon of a two-dimensional girl popped up at that moment. It was a chibi-style doll with hair in a gradient light blue like a clear sky, which bounced like little wings when tied in pigtails. Its body had a 2.5-head-to-body ratio that was impossible in reality, and its little hands and feet were as round as marshmallows.

There was a faint pinkish tinge on the knees and elbows.

The illustrations are beautifully drawn.

It's clearly the product of advanced graphic design skills.

"When did you start idolizing superheroes?" A small speech bubble with text appeared on the blue-haired girl's icon; it was the biggest contributor to the harmonious coexistence of the viruses in Ian's computer.

"Of course, it started when I realized that heroes deserve to be celebrated." Ian replied quickly, and after typing, he locked the virus that had been lingering for many years into a locked folder in the lower right corner.

There's nothing to talk about.

He always felt that the other side of the icon must be a burly man picking his toes.

There are also those with masochistic tendencies.

The locked folder was also something the virus had put on Ian's computer. Since he had just been to his second brother's room, Ian also remembered the "Superhero Popularity Center" website his second brother had mentioned before.

Yes, there are such websites.

How could he be absent?
A flash of inspiration.

Ian began frantically creating new hero profiles.

【Stocking Superman (Characteristic: Stockings that never tear)】

[Ancestor (Characteristic: Likes everyone to call him Dad)]

[Second Uncle Immortal Venerable (Characteristics: Skilled at using "generational suppression", enjoys forcing enemies to kowtow and pay New Year's greetings)]

【Dance God of War: [Feature: Unstoppable dance moves]】

……

Bald-headed Amitabha Buddha

When Ian created his twenty-fifth profile, he thought about it and decided to delete it. The cost was too high, and even under the most coincidental circumstances, he would never want to wear such a disguise.

"This is the thoughtful consideration that Batman taught me: whether or not we need to use them, we must have enough backup suits." Just as Ian was preparing to create another hundred files.

He discovered that he had been restricted from uploading information by the website.

at the same time.

[I'm really not Batman: ??? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ]

A private message popped up.

Ian clicked the block button without hesitation, only to find that he couldn't block the other person.

He immediately picked up his phone.

"dududu~"

This time it's not a stupid voicemail.

"What are you doing?"

The familiar voice, the familiar question—it could only be the familiar Batman.

"Just a short while." Ian had already guessed the truth: this website was probably a phishing site run by Batman, used to collect information from the public.

"dududu~"

The other party hung up on Ian immediately.

but.

Ian soon discovered that although he could no longer create new files, he could still edit the files that had already been created, presumably because Bruce had given it careful consideration and had granted him some permissions.

His great-great-grandfather was a slave who was hanged from an oak tree by a plantation owner in 1863.

His great-grandmother was a Chinese-American laundry worker born during Prohibition who had half her face burned due to the "Yellow Peril" theory. His mother was an undocumented Latin American immigrant who fled famine.

When his mother gave birth to him on the US-Mexico border, he discovered he also had a little Native American ancestry...

Heroes need origins.

Ian chose the most suitable origin for America's grand stage for his ancestors.

After all, Ian is easily hurt.

He can't stand people criticizing him online.

Therefore, it is very important to stack the right buffs on your ancestors—this is not difficult for an excellent writer, and Ian even upgraded his [Writer] profession because of his deep thinking.

[Author LV2 [1/20]]

I successfully acquired some general skill points, but as a regular class, it doesn't have a dedicated skill tree, and Ian doesn't have any urgent use for them, so he hasn't bothered with it for the time being.

He made full use of his talents.

[His suit isn't made of fabric, but a thousand-year-old heritage!] Ian even found the most suitable excuse for his possibility of continuing to use cheap, disposable suits in the future.

He delivered food and washed dishes during the day, and could only practice being a superhero at night. He was once homeless and slept in his car, but it was the dream of becoming a superhero that gave him hope.

Depression and cancer did not defeat his ancestor. His ancestor had been rejected by Superman and Batman, but none of this could break his heart to protect the world.

As Ian wrote, he himself became somewhat moved.

then.

He then discovered that the name "Batman" had been mysteriously deleted from his already edited document and replaced with the name "Green Arrow".

"?????"

Ian was greatly shocked by this operation.

The same old business tactics.

Batman has even used the superhero track?
What terrifying capitalists!
"Your heart is truly filthy."

Ian found that he could no longer modify the entry, so he had no choice but to give up. He had almost finished working on it today, and his alternate account background was already quite complete.

"This will be a defense even stronger than steel for our ancestors!" Ian was in high spirits. He checked the time and it was about time, so he got up, opened his backpack, and pulled out the demon's head.

“Oh, great Ian Kent, I feel I’m almost evolved, all I need are a few more demons…” the demon head raved in praise of Ian.

However, it did not yield very good results.

Ian remained completely unmoved.

Before the other person could finish speaking, he shoved the head into a new piece of furniture in the room—an alloy cabinet with many things Ian couldn't understand carved on its surface.

However, Ian didn't doubt the safety of the cabinet's contents, even though he didn't understand it. After all, it was a cabinet his father had taken from Uncle Bruce's house the night before. Although the bat logo on it wasn't completely removed, it didn't stop Ian from pretending not to see it.

He knew it himself.

My father's old friend, Uncle Bruce, had everything.

Just like Doraemon.

He's much more loyal than that guy on the forum who said, "I'm really not Batman."

"Oh, these are traces of magic and technology, used to imprison magical creatures like me. What powerful tools! The great Ian can indeed create anything."

Even after being locked in a new cage, the demon head continued its frenzied praise, and in the quiet of those few hours, the incessantly chattering head had come to some realizations.

Serving the Three Palaces Demon certainly offers a bright future.

But wouldn't changing the storefront sign open up a whole new world of possibilities?
He also wanted to strengthen his faith.

After eating the son of the demon god, the Minotaur Demon felt that it could never go back... It couldn't personally apologize to the Three Palaces Demon Path, mainly because the demon's nature of being prone to betrayal made it unable to refuse.

Praise be to God Ian!

Who says hell can't have a new master?

The Minotaur Demon now only feels that he must be a sycophant enough.

This way.

Its family should prosper in Hell starting with its generation. Although Ian abused, frightened, and tested it, it felt that Ian's nature was still capable of being a good King of Hell.

"Shut up!"

Ian stuffed Jordan's used socks into the mouth of the bull-headed demon.

I tasted that disgusting flavor.

The Minotaur Demon became even more convinced of his choice.

She's already like this in her teens.

What would happen if they were over ten thousand years old?

Under the "affectionate" gaze of the Minotaur, Ian thought the other party was a bit crazy, slammed the cabinet door shut, and lay down on the bed with the book "Ian's Magic Book" in his arms.

The time is approaching.

Seeing that Miss Death had not yet come looking for him, Ian certainly couldn't wait any longer, nor did he have the right to wait any longer. The Marvel Universe's call to him would arrive on schedule every day.

"Tonight, I must change my class to a mage."

Ian wanted to figure out the magical book in his hand.

but.

A person of extraordinary talent.

Of course, he should only cultivate his own extraordinary magic. Therefore, Ian was also trying to find a way to become the source of magic himself, and he knew that the Magnificent Tony Stark in the Marvel Universe could definitely help him.

"I just wonder what the price will be?"

Holding onto hope.

Ian drifted off to sleep as the bells rang.

……

at the same time.

The night is dark.

The corridor was deserted at midnight. In the room on the second floor, near the parents' room, the young man on the bed had a furrowed brow and his forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat.

Jonathan Kent's fingers gripped the sheets unconsciously, his knuckles turning white from the force.

It felt like a nightmare.

"strength……"

Perhaps it really is a nightmare.

In a dream.

Jonathan stood in a void, with shattered stars beneath his feet and a twisted black sun above him. Whispers in his ears, like cold snakes, climbed up his spine to the back of his neck.

We can give you strength.

The sound seemed to come from all directions.

Jonathan looked around blankly, only to see countless "selves" floating in the void—some wearing Kryptonian suits, some covered in blood, and some with only two black holes left in their eye sockets.

Are you willing to accept this?

The eerie, low sound suddenly seemed to be right next to them.

"Damn it! Where am I?" Jonathan looked around but couldn't see any sound. Even though he covered his ears, the words went straight into his brain.

"Jordan, Ian, they both became that supreme race."

"What about you?"

"A life of mediocrity and wasted potential? Even a training accident that could happen at any moment on the field could leave you with irreversible injuries. Do you really think you can escape your destined tragic fate?"

The sound entered the ear.

Bewitchment and seduction.

A family portrait appeared in the void—Clark and Jordan laughed in the clouds, Ian made a face while hugging a talking car, and Louise held up the Pulitzer Prize trophy in the spotlight.

And he.

Jonathan.

Standing on the very edge.

Like an extra who's wandered into a superhero movie.

"No!"

Jonathan shook his head unconsciously.

"You... or you guys! Who are you! What are you trying to do?" His attitude was unusually firm, but no matter how he ran, it seemed that he could not escape this illusory dream.

"We were losers, just like you."

The voice sounded again.

"However, if you can help us... then together we can climb to a new peak in this world!" The enchanting voice seemed to seep into Jonathan's soul.

"roll!"

Jonathan was roaring.

A flash of lightning appeared.

It was as if countless phantoms were illuminated in the darkness.

Things that don't belong to this universe.

(End of this chapter)