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

Chapter 135 Batman's Request! New Home Barbecue!
It's like a cosmic wonder.

The night in the metropolis was brighter than the day. Half of Odin's divine power was infused into Ian, and Ian felt his head brimming with magic.

He floated silently in mid-air.

Her whole body radiated a dazzling golden light, like a human-shaped light bulb.

His hair stood on end.

Liquid-like magic flowed beneath every inch of his skin—most strikingly, his head shone like a miniature sun.

The skull was almost translucent, like glass.

Not many people know exactly how many years Odin lived.

However, the extent of his divine power is known to all in the Nine Realms. Especially when this Asgardian god-king was in his twilight years, his immense divine power made him a being that the other heavenly fathers dared not provoke.

after all.

Anyone with a discerning eye knows this.

Odin was burdened by divine power.

But he still possesses the power to sacrifice his life, a truly sublime and powerful "explosion." That is an attack that no Heavenly Father could withstand, a deterrent force of mutual destruction at the Heavenly Father level.

Even Thanos, a pseudo-Celestial, understood this perfectly. In his twilight years, Odin indeed dared not act rashly, but if he did, who knew if he could simply trade one for one with a Celestial?

It was precisely this divine power that served as a deterrent.

Although Odin often needs to enter Odin's Sleep, few forces in the universe dare to invade Asgard. Now, half of this divine power has been directly paid to Ian.

After a brief intercosmic delay.

Ian received the penalty payment immediately.

How could he possibly control himself?
If Ian hadn't sensed something was wrong immediately upon receiving divine power and flown to the area above the clouds, it wouldn't have been as simple as just setting his new home on fire.

"A new traitor has been born under the command of the evil god, and he is... Thor's father?!" Ian wasn't stupid; he could certainly make a clear judgment from this divine power that was similar to Thor's.

"boom--"

This is not a sound.

Rather, it was a tremor deep within one's consciousness.

The power of the God-King.

It doesn't flow gently like traditional magic.

It doesn't operate in a controlled manner like the divine powers of Thor and Hela. It is a pure torrent of divinity and power, carrying the accumulation and sedimentation of countless years.

"Oh, oh, oh, I'm experiencing a divine surge within my brain right now? Even more intense than a brain orgasm!" As that power from the God-King continuously poured into Ian's head.

He almost thought his head was going to explode. However, his berserker experience didn't help—for a simple reason: Ian's head didn't actually explode.

The excess divine power flowed into extra dimensions for storage.

It was originally an extra organ in Ian's body, and now it serves as a backup hidden energy source, which is very reasonable to help Ian store divine power that his body can hardly bear.

This "hidden space" that he created himself is not just a place to house believers, but also a part of his body, another layer of concept in his mind and existence.

simply put.

The extra dimension is also part of Ian himself.

Any power within is something Ian can access and use at any time; however, the maximum output each time is inevitably limited by Ian's physical capabilities. In other words, Ian is like a Gundam with unlimited energy, but due to the limitations of the machine's material, he can only self-destruct like Odin at best.

This is indeed a trump card, since even if the enemy dies after the self-destruction, Ian can still reshape himself back to his original form, while the enemy doesn't have this magical ability.

Lord Ian can self-destruct countless times.

However, the enemy may not be able to withstand it every time—think about it, this is certainly more deterrent than Odin can produce, but it can't be considered a conventional method.

Odin is a traitor.

They only contributed divine power to the evil god, not their physical attributes—mainly because they hadn't found a way for believers to share their physical attributes with them without dying.

Create a contract.

Create magic.

Even if one does not abide by the laws of the universe, it is still important to make it self-consistent. That is the key to whether a magic or a contract can be stable. Ian has not yet found a way to take away the physical qualities of a believer without harming the believer.

"It's truly pitiful for my amazing body, having to bear so much boundless energy." Ian didn't seem to care much about it, only expressing a slight sigh.

He didn't have any need to use magic. Lord Ian's skills all had no cooldown and only consumed stamina. This wave of divine power enhancement mainly strengthened his damage reflection ability.

"If either my heart or my head is pierced, causing me five points of damage, I can reflect 50,000 points back... Isn't that a kind of numerical beauty?"

Ian knew that he was now definitely a second-level Godfather-level being.

However, his physical strength didn't keep up, and it was far from it.

but.

From a certain perspective.

This is actually more dangerous than the real Heavenly Father. It is a unique type of Heavenly Father among many Heavenly Father-level beings—a bouncing bomb-type Heavenly Father. Whoever dares to break through it will be baptized by a torrent of divine power.

of course.

This won't affect Ian's Berserker class leveling efficiency, because he only needs to store all his magic power in the extra dimension during the leveling process to freely switch his damage reflection form on and off. This is the flexibility and autonomy brought by the extra dimension; when he wants divine power to reflect damage, he simply channels that divine power back into his body.

It can even precisely control the proportion of damage from the rebound.

The will for democracy and freedom is clearly and vividly manifested at this moment.

"Odin's fifty-one percent of divine power made me the first Celestial Bomb in DC." Yes, slightly more than fifty percent, by 0.001 percent.

It's not a complete 50/50 split.

after all.

As the saying goes, if an evil god isn't cunning, then he must be insane! Only a cunning and treacherous evil god can be considered normal, which is actually the same principle as whether a cook steals food or not.

Don't make any unintentional moves in the contract every now and then.

Ian would be embarrassed to call himself the Wise Evil God if he went out in public. Especially now that magic filled his mind, his thoughts and soul were incredibly clear, and he was also extremely aware of his own feelings.

"My body is being modified."

With the continuous cleansing of Odin's power.

Ian's body is also changing. The physical enhancement that used to only occur during job advancement now seems to be becoming his normal state under the influence of Odin's power.

Yes.

The magic despises its master.

It will strengthen its own master.

He is as intelligent as Ian himself.

[Eternal Life: Your life has been blessed by divine power. Time is no longer a poison, but an aid to your transformation. You have now obtained a life with infinite lifespan.]

As you grow older, your physique will become increasingly powerful under the nourishment of divine power. Current effect: Daily Constitution +3, Daily Strength +2.

The positive state that appears in the lower right corner also confirms that Ian's intuition was correct; he was indeed being transformed by the divine power after winning the lottery, in a way that is similar to, yet not entirely similar to, the Asgardians.

Living a long life will not grant Ian divine power.

However, living longer only makes Ian's physique stronger. This is a buff born from the power of the Asgardian god-king, and if I'm not mistaken, this is just the beginning.

Well known.

Asgardians grow stronger with age.

This growth in strength follows an exponential upward trend. If the system hadn't withheld the benefits Ian was entitled to, his daily stats would inevitably have increased exponentially with age. A ripple of energy, like a burp, emanated from the extra dimension. The purified divine power had condensed into a reserve resembling liquid gold.

Ready to be called at any time.

at the same time.

The "appearance out of thin air" of divine power continues.

"Now, all I need to achieve is to never grow old!"

Ian was overjoyed, but his joy was short-lived, as he suddenly realized something was amiss when he looked down at the inhabitants pointing and whispering about him.

The sirens wailed incessantly.

A figure in a red and blue uniform is flying rapidly towards them.

"Fuck!"

Ian wanted to run away.

But where could he run off to with his glowing head? The boy had barely turned his head when he saw his father standing right in front of him, the "S" badge on his chest shining brightly under the light of his head.

"What's going on with you?"

Fortunately, the old man's emotions are relatively stable. This is how one should be reincarnated. The family members all understand how important it is to be reincarnated or adopted into an emotionally stable family.

"Well, it's a long story, but I'll keep it short." Ian blinked his still-glowing eyes. "I'm... turning into light? I guess I'll be able to become Ultraman Tiga in a few years."

He clearly didn't dare say he had become a Godfather-level bombshell, because he was worried that his father would make decisions that would damage their relationship, such as taking him to settle on Mars.

This is very likely to happen.

after all.

If Ian doesn't have time to send his divine power into the extra dimension, even with the amount of divine power he can currently store, the explosion would definitely not just be a matter of whether Metropolis goes into the sky or not.

The power of Odin.

It's absolutely delicious when it's fried.

"?????"

Hearing Ian yelling about transforming into Ultraman again, Clark couldn't hold back any longer. He looked him up and down and asked, "Is this related to your disappearance in the bathroom?"

The elderly father had witnessed Ian disappear.

It is quite reasonable to now link Ian's changes to his disappearance.

"Yes, yes, that means I was chosen by the light, became a chosen child, and went to the continent of light to participate in the trials of light!" Ian nodded vigorously.

Superman, of course, didn't believe his explanation. He took a deep breath, demonstrating his understanding of Ian, and said, "Ian, do you still have any room for telling the truth today?"

Everyone in the family knows about Ian's good habit of only telling 20% ​​of the truth each day.

"There's still some, but not much. I need to use it sparingly; it's only the early hours of the morning." Ian blinked, still speaking without batting an eye.

This could be considered a kind of showdown.

At least Clark knew that Ian had some strange, unspeakable secret—which might actually be related to when they took Ian to Dr. Hannibal when he first said he could sleepwalk in Wonderland.

At least that's what Clark thinks.

Just as Superman opened his mouth to say something, a retro telephone ringtone suddenly sounded.

"Hey."

Few people have ever seen Clark answer the phone in Superman form.

That was a special phone.

after all.

Even if Ian were to perfectly control the destructive power he was emitting, at this close distance, a normal cell phone would not receive even the slightest signal.

"Clark!"

Even through the microphone, Diana's voice sounded like it was dripping with spittle, "Your son was still a young god last night, and today he's transformed into the Sun God King in the heavens?!"

“I saw him glowing in the sky from several cities away!” Wonder Woman’s voice was filled with unbelievable shock. She even wanted to suggest that Clark use Ian to start an electric company.

“It’s the Great Sun God King.” Ian leaned over to correct him. “The Great Sun God King sounds better. I’ve already decided that from now on, I will hold up the Metropolis with one hand and make it invincible in the world.”

He did have a tiny bit of inflated ego.

Diana completely ignored his interruption and continued to ask Clark in an incredulous tone, "This is outrageous! Did your youngest son steal some of Krypton's growth-promoting fertilizer?"

It has to be said that Wonder Woman not only has stereotypes about Ian, but she may also have some stereotypes about Krypton, always feeling that there are some strange things on Krypton.

In this regard.

Superman was speechless for a moment.

He could only be using the stereotype of Wonder Woman.

"This is what Kryptonians are like."

Clark repeated dryly, like a broken record trying to brainwash himself, "Kryptonians are like this, um, that's how unscientific they are."

He finally admitted that Kryptonians are unscientific.

Wonder Woman is satisfied.

“Alright then.” Diana’s voice held a hint of pleasure, but it quickly turned to frustration again. “Damn it! Why do I have to praise the Emperor of All Laws after answering this question wrong???”

Too many question marks.

This best reflects Wonder Woman's feelings at this moment.

She is clearly still appealing for account verification.

"Isn't this much more time-saving and ethical than watching ads?" Ian interrupted, asking the question. Wonder Woman on the other end of the phone remained silent for a full half minute.

"Clark, tell your son to give me back my account right now! I've stayed up all night and only managed to answer three out of five hundred questions correctly!" Wonder Woman complained to her face.

Fortunately, Ian is in a good mood today.

A generous heart naturally follows.

“Aunt Diana! Don’t worry! We’re so close that I’m going to write a book for you! Of course I’m willing to give you special treatment. When we get back, I’ll grant you the ‘Wonder Woman’ certification!” Ian no longer needed to hide the fact that he was Mystic, because Batman had already handed over control of the website to him.

This is a gift!
"Ok?"

Upon hearing this, Diana failed to grasp the key point and simply sighed helplessly. She finally stopped ignoring Ian. "Should I thank you?"

Don't know why.

Diana found herself somewhat reluctant to use connections.

I want to tackle 500 challenging questions.

Perhaps women who enjoy playing with whips all share this trait to some extent.

"You don't need to thank me. I like doing good deeds." Ian smiled like a little bear who had stolen honey, his face still radiating a dazzling glow.

"But if you really want to thank me, how about you come and help me fix the house tomorrow?"

The youngest son of the Kent family wanted to mend things after the fact, and Clark's face twitched visibly at that moment. He was well aware of the current state of his newly renovated house.

"You still haven't finished fixing the house?" Diana thought Superman might be slacking off, since based on her understanding of Superman, he could fix at least three to five houses in one night.

In this regard.

Clark was also at a loss for words, unable to express his grievances.

"Uh, the layout isn't good, we're planning to rebuild." Clark knew the importance of not airing dirty laundry in public; living in the metropolis, he couldn't bear to watch his son set his house on fire. The main problem was that his boss, on a whim, held a late-night meeting at the newspaper office, talking about struggle and hard work, which delayed him.

"Okay, I'll help you tomorrow."

Wonder Woman had no doubts.

I readily agreed.

It wasn't just to get into the VIP section without taking the exam; she also wanted to see what was going on with Ian and what had happened that caused him to keep emitting light in the sky late at night.

Overnight.

Why did such a big change happen?
A young god directly becomes a god-king?
Even the most idealistic person shouldn't be this idealistic!
Diana stood by the window, gazing at the sky. She couldn't even look Ian in the eye. Her divine power trembled within her, and it was clear that she was aware of the kind of leap Ian was undergoing.

"Such terrifying energy, even if someone said this kid was Superman and a child of our universe, I would definitely believe it..." Diana was already starting to lose her senses from answering the questions.

the other side.

After hanging up the phone.

A gentle night breeze blows, and the metropolis's "light bulbs" still shine brightly.

Ian and Clark hovered in mid-air, staring at each other in silence. One's head glowed like the sun, while the other stared at him with a helpless expression.

It really felt like they were staring at each other blankly.

After a long time.

"so."

Superman, who had only recently started cramming on mystical knowledge, pointed at his son's glowing head and finally couldn't help but ask, "How long are you going to stay like this?"

"My head..." Ian touched his head, "It will naturally go out when it's time to go out."

He couldn't really explain it. He could only say that he used divine power to project the words "Metropolitan Energy Conservation and Environmental Protection Ambassador" onto the clouds.

"How much electricity did the whole city save tonight? Isn't that a good deed?" Ian still liked to put himself in others' shoes, and this remark left Clark speechless.

"Forehead……"

Clark opened his mouth.

I found myself unable to refute it.

The father and son remained silently staring at each other in mid-air, like two statues frozen in place. Until—

"Didi!"

Clark's phone rang again, and at the same time, a black dot appeared on the horizon—the iconic Batmobile was approaching at an alarming speed.

The jet-black armor gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

Obviously.

It had undergone some special modifications, but even so, the Batmobile was parked at a great distance, not daring to get too close to where Ian and Clark were.

"Hey?"

Superman answered the phone.

Sure enough, Batman's deep voice came through.

"explain?"

The Gotham Freak is concise and to the point.

Clark glanced at his son, then forced himself to repeat, "Ian was chosen by the light, became the Apostle of Light, went to the Land of Light, and is now the King of Light."

He paused, looked up at the sky, and added.

"I also learned the Ultra Signature."

obviously.

The old father wasn't completely ignorant about Ultraman; after all, Ian would often talk about wanting to be Tiga at home, so even if he didn't understand, he had passively received a lot of information.

"??????"

The silence on the other end of the phone was terrifying.

Batman felt like the father and son were treating him like an alien, well, that didn't seem wrong. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke in his signature deep, bubbly voice.

“I detected that Ian’s head is currently accumulating energy greater than that of a star, but it has not yet erupted—our Earth cannot withstand such a massive explosion.”

Batman's breathing rate did not change.

He wasn't in a hurry.

Ian was a little anxious.

"I have it under control! And I'm storing divine power in a superb mysterious organ that won't malfunction. No matter who tries to blow up the Earth, it won't be my turn."

This is also true.

He is very clear.

If the Gotham Freak thought he was a bouncing bomb, then it wouldn't just be a question of whether or not he should live on Mars; the Gotham Freak might suggest that Clark send him to study in the Andromeda Galaxy.

"I hope there really are fairies there."

Just as Ian was even trying to explain what the dimensional demons looked like.

"I know you're in good control."

Batman answered calmly.

They did not develop symptoms.

His reaction left Ian still wondering what was going on, but Clark immediately became alert. This unusual attitude made Clark look at the Batmobile instantly.

"What do you want to do?"

He knows Batman far better than Ian ever did.

as predicted.

When Batman isn't having a medical episode, it must be because he has some other problem causing trouble.

“I see this as an opportunity, Clark.” Batman’s voice suddenly held a rare hint of urgency. “I need your and Ian’s help.”

Upon hearing this, Superman did not answer immediately. He frowned, sensing that something was amiss—whenever Bruce spoke in this tone, it usually meant that someone was about to suffer.

And it's highly likely to be yourself.

"What help?"

Clark spoke cautiously and carefully.

Ultimately, nothing was discussed before it was rejected outright.

He is, after all, a man of great loyalty and affection.

“You can take advantage of Ian’s current state.” The Batmobile was already hovering not far away, its hatch slowly opening. “Help me forge a suit of armor that I envision.”

The masked face of the bat-like monster raised a specially made telescope from inside the hatch.

This allowed him to glance at Ian from afar.

"Ok?"

Clark's expression froze. He vaguely recalled a crazy plan that had been shelved years ago—back when Bruce had mentioned building an ultimate suit of armor capable of countering Darkseid.

Hell Armor.

The initial concept for this armor was that the metal would need to be forged inside a star. Since Superman and his teammates didn't have that capability, the armor project had been shelved for many years.

"No, you think this will work?" Clark turned around and looked at Ian's glowing, but not very hot, head, and his expression at that moment was extremely strange.

“Why not? That project has been shelved for a long time, but now, given Ian’s condition, it might be the only chance.” Batman’s voice came through the phone.

"This is also a test to see if Ian can truly control that power." His figure hung at the hatch, his cloak fluttering in the night wind, and he held some instruments scanning and reading Ian's data.

In this regard.

Clark didn't know how to respond, so he turned to look at Ian again.

"Use my head as a furnace? And even need to hammer and pound on my head? That's outrageous!" Ian certainly wouldn't agree to such a plan that so ruthlessly trampled on his dignity.

He retorted loudly, extremely angry.

“I’m not going to bang on your head. Your head can’t take that kind of banging. It’s just a furnace.” Batman’s tone was also quite strange when he responded.

He really couldn't figure it out.

Furthermore, it is impossible to make any effective inferences.

Why didn't Ian's body explode when it shouldn't have been able to contain such power? Is this the miracle of the new Jesus that subverts science and understanding?
Batman has many thoughts on his mind.

But Ian had only one thought in his mind.

“That won’t do! I! Ian Kent! I will absolutely not be anyone’s alchemical furnace! That would be a black mark on my history!” His attitude remained exceptionally firm.

"Fine, my son disagrees, so I won't agree either." Superman, seeing Ian's attitude, turned and spoke firmly to Batman in the distance.

There is no other reason.

In this regard.

Batman's expression did not change.

"I'll give you money."

His voice was as deep and resonant as ever, but now it carried a hint of warmth from Uncle Bruce—at least that's how it sounded to Ian.

He was the child who had been held by Uncle Bruce's money.

You can't have misheard.

The three of them fell silent for a moment.

“Um, Bruce, I think…” Superman was about to say, “It’s not about the money,” when he saw a glowing hand reach out to cover his mouth.

"how much is it?"

Ian's eyes.

If those two orbs of light, comparable to searchlights, can still be called eyes.

Its brightness has tripled at this moment.

"How much do you want?"

Batman didn't waste any words.

Let's get straight to the point.

"One hundred million!"

Ian made an outrageous demand.

He felt his head was worth that price.

In this regard.

Batman frowned.

Just as Ian was about to reject or criticize him.

"I'll give you a billion."

Batman's voice was completely unwavering. He frowned only because he was amazed by the Kent family's lack of imagination; a billion dollars was far more economical than forging something in a star.

after all.

Ian's head is a controllable energy furnace.

"What!?"

Ian's eyes brightened at least five times.

"Good, good, good! Hurry! Daddy! Forge Lord Wayne's armor! My stellar head is perfect as a furnace! The artifacts forged with my magic will even come with super enchantments!"

He even tried to pull on Clark's cape.

Clark dodged it.

Even a cloak covered by a bio-force field cannot defend against everything.

"Where is your dignity? Where is the dark history you don't want to leave behind?" The old father had lost count of how many times he had covered his face today. He questioned Ian with a speechless tone.

however.

Ian didn't care about any questioning or interrogation.

"I am Dark Tiga, so I should have a dark past!"

It's normal for an evil god to have a dark past.

He spoke anxiously to Clark.

"A billion dollars is my lost dignity, and now I'm going to get it back! Come on, Dad! I'll buy you a big house! Don't keep my Uncle Bruce waiting!"

Ian kept urging him on.

Superman could only fly towards the Batmobile.

The materials were brought over.

However, Ian still wanted to save face, so in order to avoid the investigation by reporters, the military, and various other forces, he and Clark went straight out of Earth and into the vacuum of space.

"This is the feeling! I was so frustrated last time." Ian was finally able to experience the joy of not needing to breathe. His divine power circulated on its own, supplying energy to his body and cells.

The two people arrived on the moon.

Having gradually absorbed the divine power, Ian voluntarily lit up his magical head, which shone even brighter than the stellar power in his eyes. In fact, divine power and the power of the eyes are two completely different kinds of power.

only.

Both can be used for forging.

Ian's eyes couldn't muster enough energy.

But the power of the God-King can.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Clark looked at the metal material in his hand.

These are not ordinary alloys.

Each piece is incredibly precious.

There was a hint of hesitation in his voice.

"Let's do it!" Ian said excitedly, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. "I promise to give Lord Wayne the strongest enchantment that even Aunt Diana couldn't have imagined!"

Divine power began to boil within his body, gushing forth from the top of his head like a star exploding, so turbulent that Clark could hardly look directly at it.

Fortunately, Ian did manage to control himself very well.

All energy is precisely confined within the forging range.

Not a single detail was leaked.

The father and son exchanged a glance.

“I really will buy you a big house.” Ian encouraged his elderly father. He didn’t really need the money for much other purpose than developing his own company.

Ian actually had brilliant ideas for developing a technology company that could boost his magical growth. He knew how to deeply integrate dimensional demons and capitalists.

“Who wants your big house… I just think this kind of thing is a bit too ridiculous.” Clark never dreamed that one day he and his youngest son would work together on this kind of thing.

It wasn't about repairing cars.

It wasn't exactly a normal father-son time either.

"Dang! Dang! Dang!"

Strange forging sounds echoed through the universe.

at the same time.

On Earth, the night sky over major cities remains bright, only much softer than before.

Many citizens were already easily frightened, and now they were even more unable to sleep. It wasn't just them; in the Daily Planet editorial office, Louise Lane and her colleagues were also huddled by the window.

Everyone was discussing the spectacular nighttime phenomenon in the sky.

"It's definitely a new energy experiment by the military," the photojournalist said confidently.

"I bet it's an alien power bank!" the entertainment editor interjected.

"Don't you guys think it looks like a giant light bulb?" the financial columnist pushed up his glasses.

Louise sighed and rubbed her temples. "All I know is that we're going to have to work overtime again."

A chorus of groans erupted in the office. The reporters, who had been discussing things with great enthusiasm just moments before, now wore complex expressions of mixed joy and worry—big news was certainly welcome, but the 3 a.m. deadline was truly daunting.

Just then, the office door was pushed open, and an enticing aroma of roasted meat wafted in.

"Everyone! The midnight snack has arrived!" Tom from the social news department walked in carrying a large cardboard box. "Authentic fruitwood-grilled meat!"

The hungry reporters swarmed around her. Louise took a skewer of grilled ribs, took a bite, and raised an eyebrow in surprise at the tender and juicy texture: "Where did you buy this so late at night?"

"You didn't know?" Tom, the reporter who brought the barbecue, asked in surprise, wiping the grease from his mouth. "Your two eldest sons are running a stall on Third Avenue right now! They grill and sell it fresh with real fruitwood!"

Louise's chewing motion suddenly froze.

"True fruit wood?"

An ominous premonition came over me.

Sure enough, the next second Lisa from the accident news team rushed in, holding freshly developed photos. Louise realized something was wrong just by looking at them.

In the photo, two teenagers wearing aprons are standing in front of a burning house. One is turning the grill, and the other is enthusiastically selling to the firefighters—those are clearly Jonathan and Jordan!
"Come on."

Louise took a bite of the roast meat with a blank expression. The originally tender and juicy taste suddenly became complicated—each bite was accompanied by the aroma of pine and a certain subtle sensation.

Ok.

It smells like my new home.

[P.S.: I've saved up almost enough. I'll pay off the debt in three days: the 25th, 26th, and 27th.]

(End of this chapter)