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

Chapter 134 The God of Stories: Hannibal's Perspective!

Chapter 134 The God of Stories: Hannibal's Perspective!
The contract is completed.

It broke off again very quickly.

If the world were a game, Odin would undoubtedly earn the title of the fastest traitor, having thoroughly studied the mechanics of using the Ian card of evil gods.

He successfully exploited a major bug.

The truth that Thor didn't understand, Odin and Hela seemed to understand very well—Asgardians grow stronger with age, and what binds them is never lifespan but the ever-accumulating divine power within them.

now.

He betrayed the company immediately after signing the contract.

Odin directly released the excess divine power from his body, seemingly becoming much weaker. However, in reality, he is now far more powerful than before.

The body cannot withstand it.

Even if one possesses excessive divine power, if one dares not use it, it is essentially equivalent to having none. Unlike now, when the body, having been overworked for years, can fully bear the remaining half of the divine power.

Being able to fully utilize half of his divine power was enough to make Odin the strongest being in the Nine Realms once again. Furthermore, the fact that his body wouldn't be burst by the divine power meant that he had indirectly gained a longer lifespan.

As for how much longer it can be extended, that depends on how thick-skinned Odin is—if the divine power accumulates to an excessive level in the future, he can still send the divine power away again by repeatedly acting as a double agent.

If Odin were shameless.

It kept jumping back and forth.

Five hundred thousand years later.

Many 500,000 years from now.

He might not even be able to see this world again. As for Thor, he might have the chance to break the record for the longest reign as prince. Don't we all have a bright future ahead of us?

"War... has come, and we Asgard will never allow those frost giants to wreak havoc on the Nine Realms." Odin, holding the Spear of Eternity, his single eye blazing, strode towards the outside of the royal court.

He wasn't wearing the Destroyer Armor. However, even in ordinary armor, he looked imposing, gleaming in the sunlight, his cloak fluttering like a battle banner. The slightly hunched figure that had once been due to old age was gone, replaced by the majesty that had once commanded the submission of the Nine Realms.

"Warriors of Asgard!"

Odin stands atop the golden palace, his eternal spear pointing straight to the heavens, his single eye like a burning star.

“I know what you fear. Do you fear the eternal winter of Jotunheim? Do you fear the ancient curse of the Giant King? No—what you truly fear is that your king has grown old.”

Sudden.

He plunged the tip of the Spear of Eternity into the ground.

Divine power erupted like a tsunami!
"Then see clearly!" His single eye shone with a light brighter than a star, and his aging body was reshaped by divine power, recreating the war god's posture from his bloody battles across the nine realms.

Am I already weakened?

Odin's voice was incredibly loud.

He was conducting troop mobilization before the start of the war.

Morale needs to be boosted.

This is far more important to the war than anything else.

"The miasma of frost has eroded the stars, and the giants' ravages have profaned the oaths of their ancestors! They think we are weak, they think we are fearful, they think our blood no longer boils!" His voice boomed like thunder, and when this king stood on the high platform, the entire army of Asgard held their breath.

"It's time for them to pay the price."

"From this day forward, Jotunheim will forever be without a throne!"

"The glacier will remember my anger!"

"The abyss will sing of your valor!"

"Now—all, follow me to win eternal victory! Go forth with honor, and return with the fear of our enemies!" The voice of the God-King resounded throughout all the kingdoms.

It seemed even the souls of the dead in the underworld trembled before it.

"Great God-King! He has returned! He has returned!"

The veterans stared wide-eyed.

Odin's voice made them feel as if they could see the brilliance of the God-King in his youth.

The Allfather, who once led them to conquer the Nine Realms and struck fear into the hearts of his enemies, seemed to have returned at this moment—few have ever seen Odin like this.

That is not the behavior of a benevolent ruler.

Rather, he was a conqueror who expanded his territory.

Asgard never fears a challenge!

The Spear of Eternity slammed heavily into the ground, its divine power rippling outwards. "Today, we will use blood and glory to make those arrogant fools understand the might of Asgard!"

"For Asgard!"

"For Odin!"

"Fight for the King! Fight for Asgard!" The warriors raised their weapons, their shouts shaking the heavens and the earth. War drums thundered, horns blared, and the entire Asgard trembled with this fighting spirit.

The army's morale was ignited.

The Asgardians will once again prove their invincibility.

Final preparations and mobilization are underway.

"tsk"

Hela, the goddess of death, rides on the back of Fenrir, a giant wolf of enormous size.

This was a terrifying giant wolf with gleaming white fangs, its breath sending out chills, and its scarlet eyes scanning its surroundings, causing the nearby warhorses to neigh uneasily.

She glanced sideways at Thor, who stood there at a loss, and a mocking smile curled at the corner of her lips: "What? It seems our little prince, who grew up in a honey pot, is not used to the atmosphere of the battlefield?"

As soon as these words came out.

Thor, who wasn't used to this environment, was losing face.

"I'm adapting very well!"

He pretended to be calm.

But Hela's lips curled up more and more dramatically. "You can ask Odin to find you a pony, if you think the pony's temperament is too fiery."

talking.

Haila pointed with his finger.

“There are still baby goats in the sheepfold over there.”

The goddess of death offered "thoughtful" advice.

Her sarcastic remarks made Thor blush with embarrassment.

"I am the mighty Thor!" Thor roared, brandishing his hammer and crackling with lightning. "I will show you that I am worthy of the crown prince's position!"

"I am a soldier!"

Thor's face was very resolute.

However, there was a hint of gritted teeth in his voice as he spoke.

"A warrior? A pot-bellied warrior?"

Hela retorted.

The tension between the two grew increasingly palpable.

The Asgardian warriors around them looked at each other in bewilderment.

Whisper.

However, no one dared to step forward and mediate the fight.

"Who is she? How dare she speak to the Crown Prince like that?"

A young soldier asked his elders a question.

"Shh, don't ask. If you ask me, all I can tell you is that we may be facing more than just external wars."

Some of the older generals wore complex expressions—they vaguely remembered that many, many years ago, Hela was Odin's sharpest sword, a goddess of death feared on the battlefield. Then she suddenly disappeared; some said she had committed a grave error and been exiled, others said she had gone to a more distant place to carry out a secret mission.

Anyway.

Hela is back now.

Hela's return is not only a family reunion, but also a major upheaval in the power structure of Asgard. No one knows what Odin, whose mind is unpredictable, is thinking.

"Even with my big belly, I can still beat you up!"

"Ah."

"If you don't believe me, come down and have a match. One-on-one, this time I won't let you sneak up on me."

"hehe."

"Damn it! I don't have a sister like you!"

……

Just as the atmosphere was about to spiral out of control.

Sif came over with several of Thor's staunch supporters.

“Thor, come to me.” The warrior Sif, riding her winged horse, reached out her hand to Thor. She was none other than the Norse goddess of the land and harvest, and one of the most outstanding young women of Asgard.

Thor, feeling like he'd been granted a pardon, immediately leaped onto Sif's Pegasus, not forgetting to turn back and make a face at Hela: "See? Real warriors get invited to fight!"

Such childish behavior.

Hela completely ignored it.

He rode the giant wolf forward.

See this.

Thor relaxed a little.

"So loyal!"

Thor sat in the back and praised loudly.

"You truly are my good brother!"

He praised his childhood sweetheart.

however.

Sif remained expressionless.

"In fact, I am your fiancée."

You couldn't detect any emotional fluctuation in her voice.

In this regard.

Thor laughed heartily.

"You can't trust this kind of feudal marriage!" Thor waved his hand dismissively. "After the war, I'll take you to Earth, so you can see what free love is all about!"

“Did you know? You can win love there for just a few gold coins.” Thor was happy to share his experiences on Earth with his brothers.

only.

He clearly underestimated Sif's comprehension abilities.

Can you really win love with just a few sheets of paper?
"You're not going to Midgard to be a chef, you're going to collect the Midgard Dirty Virus, right?" Sif's face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot, and without saying a word, she kicked Thor off his horse.

She rode away with obvious disgust, catching up with the rest of the group, leaving Thor standing there, stunned for a long while before he reacted and shouted at Sif's retreating figure.

"I was talking about online dating! Do you even know what the internet is? You don't!" Thor, having failed to catch up with his childhood friend, could only return to the stables somewhat dejectedly.

soon.

He made his choice.

The other warriors were choosing their mounts.

Then everyone went to gather.

The war drums thundered across Asgard, and the golden city trembled with the deafening horns. Warriors stood in formation on horseback, their armor reflecting a cold light, spears forming a forest, their fighting spirit boiling.

The army, with its overwhelming momentum, was a sight to behold. The sounds of clashing swords and galloping horses reverberated in the air, as if even the sky itself trembled at the impending war.

Thor stood at the front of the formation, his fingers gripping Mjolnir's hammer handle tightly, his knuckles white from the effort. Sweat poured from his palms, leaving slippery marks on the metal surface. He had to adjust his grip repeatedly, fearing that the weapon symbolizing his identity would slip from his hand during the charge.

"I absolutely cannot lose face..."

Thor, experiencing war for the first time, unconsciously turned his gaze to Odin on the high platform—the Allfather, clad in golden armor, his single eye blazing, the eternal spear Gungnir gleaming with destructive light in his hand. His father's figure seemed to reach the heavens in Thor's eyes, his imposing presence making his chest tighten.

“This is a truly qualified God-King.”

Thor looked down at his hammer; lightning danced across its surface, yet seemed so small. He remembered Hela's mocking gaze, and his father's composure in the face of the Dark God.

At the same time, he also recalled his own clumsy fighting style.

"Am I really worthy of the crown prince position?"

in fact.

Thor was very confused, and this confusion made him extremely sensitive, which is why he showed such a fierce but weak performance when Hela mocked him.

“Bang!”

The war drums roared again, interrupting his thoughts. Thor looked up abruptly and saw his father holding the Spear of Eternity high, its surging divine power sweeping across the entire army like a tidal wave.

"One day, I will become that kind of being!" Thor rallied, and his father's divine power supported him, giving him some confidence.

at this time.

A soft silver light flowed out from the depths of the golden palace.

The moonlight shone down on the soldiers.

"It's the Goddess!"

Frigg walked slowly, her long robe trailing on the ground, her staff shimmering with starlight. Her face was serene, yet her gaze was as deep as an abyss—as the foremost mage of the Nine Realms.

Her strength is far more terrifying than the world imagines.

"May the warriors of Asgard," her voice flowed like a clear spring, yet contained an undeniable power, "be fearless on the battlefield, undaunted by pain and death."

With a light tap of the staff, silver runes fell like snowflakes, merging into the armor of each warrior. Thor, too, felt a warm power surge into his body.

Even the hammer in his hand seemed to have become lighter.

What is this child laughing at?

Frigga glanced at her son only once. She walked through the queue, finally stopping in front of Odin. Her eyes flickered slightly, and a mark more complex than the other runes materialized at her fingertips.

"Father of the Gods".

she said softly.

Press the rune onto Odin's chest.

May wisdom guide your path.

This is a special blessing for Odin.

Odin nodded slightly, but Frigga did not immediately withdraw her hand. Of course, she knew what Odin had done, so the witch was very worried about Odin's decision.

Some beings... dislike betrayal.

The witch leaned closer and whispered a reminder to Odin, based on her understanding of the world.

In this regard.

A deep light flashed in Odin's single eye.

He took his wife's hand and patted it gently.

"Trust me, there won't be any problems."

The god-king's voice was also kept very low.

"In fact... I'm also adding weight to Asgard's strategy." He glanced at his daughter and son, his thoughts unreadable.

The God-King is always so deep in thought.

Frigga gazed at her husband, then sighed and released his hand.

Odin turned, the Spear of Eternity pointing straight to the heavens: "For Asgard!"

"For Asgard!!"

With a deafening roar, Thor, riding his steed, charged ahead, hammer raised high. Frigga stood still, watching her husband's departing figure.

"What exactly is that mysterious ancient god?"

The worry lingered in her eyes.

He muttered to himself.

Watching the army enter the Rainbow Bridge, and Hela's giant wolf mount, Thor kicked him hard with his hind legs, and everyone gradually disappeared into the light of the Rainbow Bridge.

Rainbow bridge.

It is Asgard's teleportation artifact, capable of opening wormholes between all the planets in the Nine Realms, allowing users to instantly teleport to their destination. This is also why Asgard's territory is so vast.

In the blink of an eye.

The light of the Rainbow Bridge pierced the starry sky as the Asgardian army descended upon a border planet attacked by frost giants.

The village is now in ruins.

The surviving villagers huddled among the ruins, and when they saw the divine soldiers descend from the sky, they all knelt down and wept bitterly.

"Asgard has come to save us!"

They saw hope.

"Asgard? It's nothing but a twilight empire!" The frost giant stood like a mountain, roaring as he swung his giant axe, trying to tear the Asgardian warriors to shreds.

See this situation.

Hela agreed without hesitation.

A wave of both hands.

Countless dark green spikes erupted from the ground, instantly turning more than a dozen frost giants into pincushions. Her fighting style was ruthless and vicious, each move deadly, and enemies fell like straws wherever she went.

On the other side, Thor was also riding his own goat, wanting to prove himself—but the little goat was grumpy and kept trying to throw Thor off as it ran.

In a disheveled state.

A miracle happened.

Thor's lightning was originally "good lightning," which is not very accurate. However, the lightning he summoned while swaying around unexpectedly hit its target every time. Lightning bolts rained down from the sky one after another. Two negatives make a positive, and under the influence of his goat mount, every single bolt hit the enemy's head!
"Crack!!!"

One by one, the frost giants were struck by lightning, screaming in agony as they collapsed instantly. Their massive bodies convulsed in the electric current, their fur charred black, and a fragrant aroma of roasted meat filled the air.

"Huh?!" Hela was calmly slaying her enemies when she suddenly heard a series of explosions behind her. Turning around, she couldn't help but be surprised by Thor's performance.

this moment.

Thor trembled.

It was as if I had suddenly realized something.

"I've got it! I have to imagine these enemies as meat on a chopping board!" Thor, riding his little goat, hadn't even finished speaking when he hurled another hammer!

"This is a big meat pie!"

His flying Thor's hammer pounded the frost giant relentlessly.

They were all hammered with great force.

You could probably make really bouncy meatballs with them.

boom! !

Then, another bolt of lightning struck, hitting a frost giant who was trying to get up, blasting him back to the ground, charred and smoking, with an even stronger aroma.

"awesome!"

Thor burst into laughter, his whole body stiffening up.

"Turns out I wasn't bad, I just wasn't in the zone!" He started jumping up and down while swinging the hammer, muttering, "This is pork belly! That's lamb chop!"

With his "cooking-style command".

Lightning rained down like a storm, each strike precise and almost supernatural. The battlefield transformed into a giant open-air barbecue, with the frost giants becoming the most tragic ingredients.

"Who dares to say I'm no good?" Thor may not have rosemary in his hand, but he has it in his heart. So, with Mjolnir in hand, he is like a god of death, entering a truly uninhabited realm.

See this situation.

Hela, of course, would not admit defeat.

She is reaping lives on the battlefield.

and.

They also showed off some of their talents.

"Art should be awe-inspiring."

Under her control, the corpses of the frost giants were strung together one by one and hung like sausages on sharp icicles. She tilted her head, admiring her masterpiece—the corpses were arranged in blush-inducing poses, some even holding hands and dancing a naked waltz, a scene both absurd and eerie.

"Look, from this angle... doesn't it have a lot of depth?"

She took a few steps back with satisfaction, admiring her work.

The warriors of Asgard watched this scene, their faces shifting from shock to blankness, finally settling into an indescribable expression. No one dared to say otherwise, nor did anyone possess the talent to appreciate it.

Just then, Odin returned with his personal guard after clearing an area. He saw the "art installation" in the distance and his brows furrowed into a deep frown.

"..."

The Father of the Gods was silent for three seconds, then decisively turned his horse around.

"Warriors!"

His voice was stiff as he covered his one eye.

"Follow me straight to the lair of the Frost Giants!"

The wise king made a wise decision.

Out of sight, out of mind.

As Odin activated the Rainbow Bridge once more, its beam of light pierced the frozen sky of Jotunheim, and Odin led his elite guards down upon this icy land. A chilling wind howled.

The snow-covered palace was eerily silent.

There wasn't even a single guard.

Something's not right.

Odin gripped the Eternal Spear, his divine power spreading out like ripples to probe.

It's too quiet.

They ventured deep into the Frost Royal Court, the ice-carved pillars reflecting a cold light, the ground unmarked, until they reached the valley with its enormous throne. This was a truly frigid land; the sky was grey, the earth covered in perpetual frost, and even the air seemed frozen.

"Loufi!" Odin's voice boomed like thunder, causing ice crystals to fall in a shower. "You have violated the peace treaty. Now stand trial! Face your destined end!"

The Spear of Eternity emitted a dazzling golden light, illuminating the entire throne. However, the one seated upon the icy throne was not the expected, imposing and ferocious Frost Giant King.

Instead, it was an incredibly young and frail frost giant.

His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his icy blue eyes held a cold indifference. His slender fingers tapped casually on the armrest of his throne. Most striking of all were the two small horns atop his head.

Rather than a symbol of the frost giant, it is more of a deliberate decoration.

“Lauffe is dead,” the young giant spoke, his voice soft yet chilling the entire hall. “Now, I am the king here.”

He slowly rose to his feet, and ice crystals condensed around the throne, forming a crown of thorns.

You can call me—

"King Loki."

This statement came out.

The wind in the entire valley seemed to be frozen by an invisible force. Odin's divine light shone on the young face, and the other person was looking directly at Odin with calm eyes.

A cold wind howled, and the air seemed to freeze in the frost-covered hall.

Odin stood below the high platform, his golden armor gleaming coldly in the chilling light. His gaze, sharp as a knife, was fixed on the figure seated on the throne—the young man who called himself "King Loki."

"Did you start this war?"

Odin's voice was deep and majestic.

“Of course.” Loki slowly raised his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. He nodded, his movements as gentle as if he were answering a trivial question.

"why?"

Odin frowned and began to question him.

"Too many thoughts, too many worries..." Loki, the Frost King, tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest, his gaze wandering as if staring into some distant void.

He propped his head up with one hand, his fingertips digging deep into his pale skin, and murmured to himself, his voice as soft as a dream, "Lately, so many images keep appearing in my mind, fragmented images, as if someone is implanting them into me, implanting thoughts and memories that don't belong to me..."

Loki's voice gradually became sharp, and a murky crimson light appeared in his eyes. "No one can save me, so I can only save myself." As soon as he finished speaking, the entire hall seemed to tremble.

Odin frowned slightly, looking at the young "Loki" before him, a strange feeling rising in his heart. This was no ordinary enemy.

This is... an existence being shaped by something.

The God-King has already noticed.

"You're crazy."

Odin remained silent for a moment.

Finally spoke.

His tone was both pitying and resolute.

"Maybe."

Loki laughed, a laugh that revealed an almost manic confidence.

“But only when this world is quiet enough can I find true peace. Only when everyone dies can I find the power I should possess in my dreams.” He raised his head, his eyes flashing with a mixture of scarlet and murky light, as if burning with some kind of flame that did not belong to mortals.

"Can't you hear their whispers? They keep saying... I am God." This contradictory statement sounded like that of a madman, yet the Allfather of Gods didn't hesitate to throw the Eternal Spear!

Gungnir slashed through the air, its shaft wreathed in dazzling golden divine power. With a thunderous roar and an unstoppable divine might, it pierced straight for Loki's heart!

Wherever the spear passed, ice crystals shattered and space distorted. The God-King's guards held their breath, waiting for the spear to pierce the enemy's chest, so they could witness yet another victory for their king.

however.

Just as the Spear of Eternity was about to strike its target, Loki moved. He neither dodged nor retreated, but instead raised his hand and gently clenched it.

In nothingness.

An eerie longsword gradually appeared.

He held it in his hand.

The sword was as black as night, with crimson patterns flowing across its surface, seemingly writhing with life. Wherever the blade passed, even light was swallowed up, leaving only a chilling darkness.

It is—the Black Death Sword!

A sword that slays gods!
A peerless divine weapon capable of slaying members of the Celestial Gods!

"clang--!!"

The deafening clang of metal clashing echoed throughout the entire royal court!
The tip of the Eternal Spear pressed against the blade of the Black Death Sword. The two opposing forces clashed violently, and the resulting energy wave seemed to sweep across the entire planet with unbridled force!
turbulent and terrifying!
The guards were thrown to the ground by the shockwave, staring in horror at the scene before them—Loki stood firmly in place, using the Black Death Sword to block Odin's fatal blow!
For the first time, Odin's one eye showed shock.

He couldn't recognize the sword, but he could sense its immense power. And now, this unimaginable weapon was in the hands of a young Frost King!

No wonder Lau died!
"Where did you get this sword?"

Odin asked in a deep voice.

Reach out and recall the Eternal Spear.

Loki didn't answer, but instead stroked the sword with a fascination, as if listening to its whispers. His eyes grew increasingly unfocused, and the smile on his lips twisted into a near-grotesque grin.

His eyes grew increasingly bloodshot.

"You should all kneel before me, the god who writes history!"

At that moment, Loki's roaring voice suddenly became loud and manic, and the crimson patterns on the Black Death sword throbbed like veins, "I am King Loki! I am the God of Stories!"

He swung his sword and charged at Odin.

"A dream is just a dream!"

Odin growled.

Gungnir, the spear of eternity, burst forth with dazzling divine light.

It collided violently with the Black Death Sword!

The collision of the two supreme forces caused the ice plains of Jotunheim to crack and glaciers to collapse. The shockwaves swept across the entire world, and the home of the Frost Giants was on the verge of being reduced to dust.

Loki's black hair flew wildly in the wind, his eyes burning even more crimson: "You don't understand! Those images—those memories—they're more real than reality!"

Odin's single eye hardened, the tip of his spear pressed against the sword's edge, divine power continuously flowing within: "Put down the sword, Loki! You've been bewitched!"

"Bewitchment?"

Loki grinned maliciously, and the Black Death Sword suddenly twisted and deformed, transforming into a monstrous serpent that bypassed the Spear of Eternity and lunged straight for Odin's throat. "It was this that showed me the truth!"

"And judging from your expression, I know... you saw it too! You saw those scenes! Those realities!" Loki roared furiously at Odin.

Such a battle.

The guards were unable to intervene and could only watch as the two figures clashed on the battlefield, each collision creating ripples of energy that were as awe-inspiring as a star exploding.

The battlefront must extend into the galaxy.

Unbeknownst to anyone, far, far away from reality, the Dark God Nal sat upon a throne of bones, his eyes, burning with purple flames, gazing down upon the world below.

His eyes reflected the figures of Odin and Loki.

"It's almost time for me to go back." The Dark God, Nar, floated silently in the void, clad in tattered armor and bound by invisible shackles.

“I will be the first, and I will be the last.” Nar looked around at himself, his gaze piercing through the area that sealed him, sweeping over one figure after another in the void.

this area.

Countless picture frames, resembling comic book panels, floated in the air.

In each picture frame.

They all conceal a terrifying figure.

“Rewrite my story, God of Stories.” Nar’s laughter echoed in the void as He gazed upon the dimension of reality, His schemes unfolding in the direction He had envisioned.

.........

at the same time.

DC Universe.

In the newly built log cabin.

Ian lay on the floor, with sheets of paper spread out in front of him, holding a pen that could dispense many different colored leads, and was carefully drawing something on the sketch.

His new room contained only that simple wooden bed.

There was almost no furniture.

It appeared empty and desolate.

Mom and Dad had already gone to work overtime, and his two older brothers were fast asleep, their snores filling the air. Once back in their own world, no one asked about his sudden disappearance.

In fact.

Ian is the extra dimension that returns first.

Then he crawled back down to the first-floor bathroom from another dimension. At 12:42 AM, the house was already dark, but this did not dampen Ian's creative enthusiasm.

“Howard needs to be fleshed out in Iron Man’s story.” Ian still savors his experiences in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, while also regretting the fact that Howard is dead in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. He’s drawing a scientist in a suit, holding an abacus, with a determined and piercing gaze. That’s his imagination of Howard.

He even wrote a line of text in the corner of the painting.

May everything you have done be remembered in the future.

Finish this painting.

Ian still felt a deep sense of regret.

That man who once stood alone at the pinnacle of his era, that great father who used his mortal body to fight against fate, never had the chance to be recruited into the faith of the evil god.

God knows how much Ian desired such high-quality believers; he also longed for a truly useful external brain, since the wisdom of believers was equivalent to the wisdom of evil gods.

Having a follower like Howard Stark is practically like having a quantum computer installed in your body. Unfortunately, Ian can only try to find Mr. Fantastic next time he enters the Marvel universe.

“It’s not just me who’s disappointed! I believe it’s Howard’s regret too!” Ian drew a few lines on the paper with his charcoal pencil and then began drawing another journal entry.

[Author Experience Points +1]

This is the story of Venom.

among them.

Ian meticulously depicted the majestic appearance of the Dark God, Nal.

As he recalled the aloof appearance of the God of Darkness, he gritted his teeth and, driven by his petty nature, deliberately drew Nal to be extremely ugly.

A crooked throne, a disproportionate skull with protruding fangs, a tumor on the forehead, one eye squinting, and the other eye constantly oozing pus.

Ian is a true villain.

He was still thinking about how Nar had run away before he could level up.

[Author Experience Points +1]

……

Ian's great enthusiasm for drawing stems from his desire to verify his own suspicions. He had previously experienced the need to draw the Boys in the DC Universe and spread the word in order to unlock a profession. Therefore, in his view, people's perceptions in the DC Universe could very well influence the "rebirth" of the Marvel Universe.

This might also be an anchor point that helps heroes rediscover their "self." Of course, Ian was only speculating about this, and he knew he should take the new Tony's suggestion about becoming a psychologist seriously.

"After all, I'm not a professional, so I still need to consult a professional." Thinking this, Ian took out his half-broken phone and dialed a number while drawing.

"dududu~"

late at night.

In Hannibal Lecter's study, a desk lamp cast a warm, yellow glow on the hardcover book cover. He was enjoying a steak tartare with truffle slices when his phone screen lit up.

The phone vibrated.

His knife hovered in mid-air; the caller ID showed "Psychiatrist." Hannibal raised an eyebrow; he couldn't recall ever adding such a note to anyone's contact.

"Hello?" Hannibal elegantly wiped the corner of his mouth.

"Doctor, are you asleep?"

A clear and youthful voice came from the other end of the phone.

He heard it.

It was Ian Kent, that special patient.

“Considering what happened yesterday, I don’t think anyone can sleep well… Ian, are you and your family alright?” Hannibal asked with concern while revealing the other’s identity.

“As long as the Earth hasn’t blown up, we’ll be perfectly fine.” Ian’s response was incredibly light, and Hannibal could even hear the sound of the pen tip touching the paper.

Hannibal gazed at the rain outside the window and decided to categorize the remark as American teenage humor: "So, is it because you have something on your mind that you're calling so late at night?"

He began to get into character.

Become a psychologist.

We must always be prepared to meet the needs of patients 24 hours a day.

“I have a few friends who need help.” Ian’s voice suddenly turned serious on the other end of the phone. “They are very, very sick, probably more critically ill than the most seriously ill patients you’ve ever seen.”

Yes.

Ian wants to ask Hannibal for help.

Whether as a person or as a doctor, he knew Hannibal was a top performer.

"Hmm? I think... you must have joined a mental health support group?" Hannibal became interested, put down his knife, and began to focus on questioning and thinking.

after all.

He always believed that Ian was the patient with the most complicated condition he had ever seen. If even Ian thought the illness was serious, then either the patient was perfectly normal or the patient was a true god of mental illness.

"More or less."

The sound of a window closing came from inside.

"I just want to help them."

Ian's voice was very sincere.

"That's kind of you. Could you describe their symptoms?" Hannibal also took out his notebook, ready to take notes, but the other end only played a few audio clips.

"Please wait."

Ian pulled out the black box and played the heartbeats, pulses, and breathing sounds of four people for Hannibal to hear—Thor wasn't among them, but he figured Nick Fury was probably quite ill too.

"Can you hear me? If you can't hear me clearly, do you want me to send you the audio file? I also have video, so don't worry about saving me data, I have free unlimited data."

After playing the audio, Ian also asked a question.

“I heard you clearly, but the topic we should be discussing now is your friend’s mental state, and what seems abnormal to you, right?”

Hannibal subtly indicated that he didn't need these things.

At least for now, it's not necessary.

"Aren't most mental illnesses related to organic lesions?" Ian's question was tinged with the seriousness of an academic discussion; he had indeed read some books about mental illness.

No bragging.

“That’s true.” Hannibal narrowed his eyes and added, “But there are also many illnesses that stem from psychological trauma, especially in Western countries where psychological causes are the most common.”

He is more professional than Ian, after all.

Ian did not refute this.

After all, a true master must always have the heart of an apprentice.

He understands very well.

"Would giving them more medicine solve the problem?"

Ian tentatively opened his mouth, the silver knife bending into a question mark shape in Hannibal's hand. He recalled one of his patients who took anti-anxiety pills like candy.

That man should have turned into a boy by now.

Let's calculate when we'll die.

He's probably five or six years old now.

Hannibal remained silent for a longer time this time.

"Medicine is not a panacea."

He finally spoke up patiently, saying, "If the conditions are right, I would like to meet your friend. I won't charge you; I just want to learn more about the cases."

I can tell.

Hannibal was genuinely curious about the mentally ill person who could be Ian's friend.

however.

The sound of fabric rubbing came from the other end of the phone.

It looked like Ian was shaking his head.

"It's possible that no one but me will ever see them."

The boy is sighing.

Dr. Hannibal had begun to have doubts.

"Are those people your imaginary friends?" He didn't follow the usual patient-pleasing approach; instead, he preferred to be direct and asked without hesitation.

"Of course not, I'm not mentally ill, where would I get imaginary friends?" Ian's retort left Hannibal speechless as he wiped his forehead.

“They are superheroes, so it’s inconvenient for them to meet other people. I know a lot of superheroes, and they are all very filial to me,” the boy added.

Due to unspeakable difficulties.

He was already thinking to himself whether he should install two cameras on his head the next time he returned to Marvel, so he could record the words and actions of those superheroes anytime, anywhere.

Perhaps bringing Dr. Hannibal Lecter to Marvel would be a good idea?
but.

Packing up one's own therapist should be considered a serious crime.

Ian is, after all, a law-abiding citizen.

He rarely committed crimes.

"Is it like this."

Dr. Hannibal seemed oblivious, and his tone betrayed no sign of belief. Just as he was about to steer the conversation, a flurry of activity suddenly came through the receiver.

Then came Ian's exclamation.

"Wait a minute! My body is glowing!"

His voice sounded very surprised when he spoke.

Hannibal was completely stunned.

Did you take any illegal drugs?

The psychologist felt that things were not so simple.

American teenagers are not uncommon to be exposed to high-energy products.

"No, I didn't pick mushrooms to eat by the roadside. I don't need to eat wild mushrooms when I'm writing. Oh, I do have a wild toad, but I keep it in my pet's throat."

Ian's response only fueled Hannibal's suspicions.

He was just about to speak and test the waters.

All that was heard was a gasp of surprise.

"Mom! Dad! Where are you! Ian blew up our new house again!" It sounded like an older boy, his voice terrified, a hysterical scream.

"Oh, doctor, wait a few minutes... I think I'm really going to get a beating this time. Well, that makes sense, since I've won the lottery. According to relativity, I'm definitely going to get a beating."

Ian's voice stopped abruptly at that moment.

The call was hung up.

Hannibal held the overheated phone.

He hesitated whether to call the Kents.

after all.

It seems like there's more than one kid in the Kent family who's gone crazy right now.

Just now.

"Boom~"

Accompanied by a loud bang.

Dr. Hannibal ran to the window.

next moment.

His expression froze on his face.