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

Chapter 143: The Battle Ends, the Pope and Ian
The power of Odin.

One of the most awe-inspiring and terrifying forces in the Marvel Universe.

It was used by the king of Asgard and could accomplish incredible feats—one of which was the ability to warp the dimension that lay between reality and illusion.

Just as Odin's single eye can see through all illusions, Ian's ability to use it to blast the seemingly existent yet nonexistent Yellow King is a perfectly plausible operation.

Especially after changing its name to Ultra Force, at least Ian himself felt it made sense. This must have little to do with the Yellow King being blown off his throne.

"Tiga Bomb!"

[Body severely damaged, Berserker experience points +33]

"Sun Soup Supplement!"

Your body has received an energy replenishment, and your Entropy Annihilation Lord experience points have increased by 46.

"Tiga's bombs are coming again!"

[Body severely damaged, Berserker experience points +33]

……

Ian's Ultraman power is exceptionally fierce.

It possesses the immense power to influence both illusion and reality.

It didn't just blow the entire holy city into the sky. White light appeared again and again, and in the midst of the explosions, it finally engulfed the sacred land where all the angels lived.

It even swallowed up the angels' garden.

If it weren't for an invisible force blocking it, it might have engulfed the area where Dean and Sam were standing. Explosions continued one after another, and blazing white beams of light shot straight into the sky.

The King in Yellow's body began to burn.

The unchanging yellow fabric now bears scorch marks.

"Stop resisting! My light is running out!" Ian shouted, but the light emanating from his body grew brighter and brighter. The King in Yellow tried to break free, but his spider legs remained motionless as if welded shut.

In the scorching explosion.

It was vaguely visible that Ian was clinging tightly to another yellow-robed "tentacle monster" covered in tentacles, like an octopus. Perhaps, only one of them was truly indescribable.

"Damn it! Why are you still resisting! I was just kidding! I still have plenty of light left! Super Tiga Bomb!" The thirteenth wave of explosions made Dean and Sam feel the ground shaking.

It's hard to imagine that someone can sound so excited when they're making a self-deprecating revelation, as if the creature they're clinging to isn't some evil being, but rather a virgin they're cuddling with.

Despite being engulfed in flames by the explosion, the King in Yellow remained silent and attempted to tear Ian off his body.

however.

And it didn't work.

Its tentacles, like chains from the abyss, lashed and tore at Ian, but they couldn't stop Ian from sticking to it. Could this not be considered a form of exogenous pollution?

Berserker Experience +3

[Incorrect data, cannot be absorbed.]

Berserker Experience +2

[Incorrect data, cannot be absorbed.]

……

In fact, the King in Yellow's attack not only failed to corrupt Ian, but also provided Ian with some small rewards. The inability to absorb erroneous data also meant that Ian could not be corrupted.

He can't be Cthulhu Ion.

"Sun Soup Supplement!"

Ian didn't take out the thermos, but since he could open an extra dimension through his mouth, the Kryptonian ancient god thermos stored in that extra dimension was also absorbing energy from him in a unique way.

The energy of the true Kryptonian sun god re-encased his ravaged body, healed his wounds, and reignited his fighting spirit.

Boom——!
The entire space trembled from the explosion.

Impure substances surged from the Yellow King's body, attempting to envelop Ian. Unable to break free, it tried, but Ian was like a curse stuck to it.

I can't shake them off no matter what I do.

“I can explode even without light! In fact, I not only have light in my heart, but also… Fel Energy Tiga Bomb!” Ian was infected by fel energy, and he has been storing fel energy in his liver.

Nourishment is carried out in secret.

nowadays.

It blooms together with the power of Odin.

boom--!
Another violent explosion occurred, and white and green light illuminated almost everything. As the Yellow King's figure twisted and turned, the black mist around his body began to dissipate.

"It can't be stopped! My light can't be stopped! This is the power of the King of Angels!" This last wave of explosions was the most terrifying, with green and white energy intertwined.

It forms a huge energy vortex.

The entire heaven was engulfed in blinding light.

As the light faded, only a slowly dissipating mushroom cloud remained in the sky. Two small black dots could be faintly seen streaking across the horizon, eventually transforming into two bright stars.

"By the way, does anyone know what's above heaven?"

Dean and Sam are craning their necks to study the structure of the starry sky in Heaven.

"What are you looking at?" a cold voice came from beside me.

The two brothers turned their heads sharply and saw a handsome man, almost sharp, standing beside them. His golden hair cascaded down his back, and his eyes burned with a fierce white flame.

The most terrifying thing was his expression—it was as if someone had owed him wages for thousands of years.

Before the Winchester brothers could speak, the man had already drawn a circle in the sky. A golden halo unfolded, encircling Ian and the King in Yellow, who had already turned into stars.

They were removed from Heaven.

"Who are you?!" Dean instinctively reached for his waist—however, his demon hunter gun was nowhere to be found, and the boy probably felt that the guy who suddenly appeared was up to no good.

It's something like a demon launching a counterattack into heaven.

"Shut your mouth, I need quiet." The man didn't even bother to glance at him, but stared intently at the ruins of the holy city in the distance, the flames in his eyes flickering even more intensely.

"He is the true King of Angels, Michael."

Another voice sounded.

The two brothers turned their heads and saw a black-haired angel in a well-fitting robe walking slowly towards them. He had a gentle smile on his face and his every move exuded the refined elegance of a scholar.

"Are you all angels?" Sam's voice trembled slightly.

"Yes."

The black-haired angel nodded slightly.

"I am Uriel, responsible for limiting the scope of influence under the Lord's will."

He introduced himself.

At this moment, Michael finally turned his head, his fiery gaze fixed on Uriel.

“Restraints? That guy blew up the Holy City.” His tone was eerily calm, like the stillness before a storm, as if questioning Uriel about possible dereliction of duty.

Uriel's smile froze on his face.

"Well"

He touched his nose.

"I think even I can't predict everything."

The bitter smile that Ian often failed to show was embodied on Uriel's face.

Michael's eyes did not look away.

He kept his eyes fixed on Archangel Uriel.

Even Uriel was somewhat intimidated by this most powerful angel.

He quickly offered an explanation.

"The main problem is that I didn't expect that Amanadir, who was supposed to be guarding the Holy City, would think that the other angels had been infected, so he couldn't escape the Lord's punishment either."

“His faith in the Lord was too devout, and that… he fell to earth along with the other angels.” His expression was very strange; it was clear that even the Cherubim had lost their minds.

His wisdom prevented him from predicting that Amanadir truly lacked wisdom. Pollution shouldn't have affected Amanadir, but he chose to "deceive himself."

In this regard.

Michael couldn't help but rub his temples after hearing this.

“I probably shouldn’t have let that guy in; he was bolder than I expected.” Michael’s tone was full of frustration; he really couldn’t imagine anyone daring to bomb God’s dwelling place.

Uriel stood to the side, his hands folded inside the sleeves of his robe, his expression calm.

“Even if you don’t open the door, he will still come in.” He turned his head slightly and looked at the area where Ian had walked before. “We can all see how dazzling the glory radiating from him was.”

“Even far more than you and me.”

Uriel was clearly implying something.

"What do you mean by that?" Michael turned his head sharply, his bright white pupils filled with scrutiny, his voice low and dangerous.

“No one dares to bomb God’s dwelling place, unless that person…” Uriel did not answer directly, but looked up at the sky above heaven, as if he was thinking about something.

He didn't finish his sentence.

"Don't overthink it. That boy isn't God; it's just that the Lord's gaze lingered on him a few times," Michael interrupted coldly, his tone resolute.

Uriel did not back down; instead, he smiled gently.

“Then tell me, how long has it been since you last heard His voice?” This time he was not intimidated, but looked directly at Michael, his tone full of meaning.

Michael's face turned unusually gloomy.

He was silent for a few seconds before letting out a cold laugh: "You think this can shake my beliefs? Don't try to influence me anymore, stop with your little tricks."

"After that, I also want to give you a piece of advice, Uriel—don't be so clever as to always try to guess the Lord's thoughts." After saying that, he suddenly spread his incomparably dazzling wings.

The figure transformed into a blazing white light and disappeared into the horizon.

Uriel watched silently in the direction he had left, his eyes devoid of any emotion. He slowly turned to look at the Wen family duo standing on the grass—Dean and Sam.

Dean and Sam exchanged bewildered glances. The conversation had been so information-heavy that they couldn't process it all at once. After a moment's hesitation, Sam couldn't help but ask a question.

Is Ian really an angel?

He still couldn't quite accept the style Ian had previously displayed. Look how cool Michael was when he left; those wings with tons of special effects were completely different from Ian's so-called wings.

“That’s not a question you should be asking.” Uriel maintained his smile; his voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable authority. Even angels are not immune to their arrogance when facing mortals.

"Okay, all we want to do right now is go home."

Dean didn't want to make a fool of himself.

He wanted to leave this damned paradise as soon as possible.

“Of course, no problem. You don’t belong here.” Uriel turned his head, his deep gaze falling on Dean, a gentle yet enigmatic smile playing on his lips.

“However, that will take some time. Until then, just tell me what you want.” His voice was gentle, with a reassuring tone.

Dean raised an eyebrow and said without hesitation, "Fine wine."

Sam glanced at his brother, then whispered, "...Mom."

Dean turned his head sharply: "You can do that?"

Uriel chuckled: "Either is fine."

As he finished speaking, the surrounding light distorted slightly, as if some unseen force was weaving reality. However, this was exactly what Dean and Sam expected.

Uriel spoke slowly again.

"However, you must grant me one small request."

His tone was as gentle as ever.

However, Dean immediately became alert at that moment.

"What request?"

The eldest of the Wen family's twin brothers' eyes became wary. Uriel's gaze passed over Dean and landed on Sam—or rather, his eyes were fixed on Lucifer's appearance.

"I'm going to put something inside your brother's body."

Uriel whispered his request.

The atmosphere was somewhat tense.

"no problem."

Sam hardly hesitated.

He nodded in agreement immediately.

He desperately wanted to know what kind of person his mother was.

"Wait! Wait!" Dean suddenly stepped in front of his brother, staring wide-eyed at Uriel. "You're not talking about 'a certain part' of your body, are you?"

The boy's eyes showed even greater wariness.

"??????"

The cherubim's smile froze on her face for the second time.

After a few seconds of silence, Uriel took a deep breath and tried to maintain an elegant tone, "No, no, it's just some harmless little secrets."

"I want to hide it on someone no one would expect." Angels may not like to lie, but like Ian, they don't tell the whole truth most of the time.

Dean and Sam are still too young.

"A secret?"

Dean was conflicted.

But before he could ask any further questions, Uriel waved his hand lightly—and the next second, a bottle of fine wine shimmering with golden light appeared in the air.

The wine flowed slowly in the bottle, as if containing the radiance of stars. And beside the fine wine, a familiar figure gradually solidified—Mary Winchester.

The mother of the Wen family duo stood there, gazing at them tenderly. Sam looked slightly trembling, Dean was stunned, and Mary opened her arms to them.

The two brothers went to meet him almost instinctively.

He hugged her tightly.

Uriel stood to the side, watching the scene silently, his eyes deep. His fingertips twitched slightly, and a barely perceptible ray of light silently disappeared into Sam's back. Neither Dean nor Sam were still immersed in the warmth of their reunion; neither noticed the fleeting light.

Cherubim's actions were very covert.

Almost no one could see it—almost because Michael was a witness; he did not actually leave, but gazed at it all from the immeasurable heavens above.

however.

Even after witnessing Uriel's actions, the Seraphim King did not intervene. He simply watched quietly before turning his gaze back to the mortal realm.

His pupils reflected the figures of Ian and the King in Yellow—after being banished by Michael using his authority, the two filthy things in Michael's eyes also fell directly to the mortal realm.

"boom!!!"

In St. Peter's Square in the Vatican, a blinding flash of fire descended from the sky and slammed into the central obelisk. Debris flew, dust billowed, and tourists screamed and scattered in all directions.

Amidst the smoke and dust, Ian, covered in soot, scrambled to his feet, his eight spider legs snapping open again. He shook his head and immediately spotted the Yellow King lying at the bottom of the pit—his once mysterious yellow robe was now tattered, the hood torn in half, revealing a distorted shape beneath.

He was very weak.

But it was just weakness.

The yellow fabric that appeared to be burned was turning into fine dust that drifted in the air, and these dust particles floating in the air would suddenly distort at certain angles.

Every speck of dust had a sickly, dark yellow sheen, refracting a dizzying, distorted halo of light in the sunlight—the air was filled with an indescribable smell, neither foul nor pleasant, like trying to recall a scent that had never existed before; that emptiness itself was part of the pollution.

Invisible pollution is spreading in all directions.

"Oh my god! What happened?!"

"They fell from the sky... My eyeballs, my eyeballs are popping out!"

"Don't look! Don't look at them!"

……

The surrounding tourists were terrified. Some screamed and called the police, some knelt down and prayed, and many more just stood there, unable to believe they were being contaminated. Their eyes began to tremble in unison, their pupils dilating and contracting, as if resisting some kind of image invading their optic nerves.

Some people knelt down and prayed.

Surprisingly, it actually worked.

then.

More and more people rushed into the church.

They were receiving the last remaining divine protection within the church.

outside.

The city was falling to the enemy on a large scale.

The water in the fountain had turned a filthy color, and countless blurry human faces appeared on its surface. Those faces had no features, only mouths that opened and closed repeatedly.

They were repeating incoherent babbling in sync with each other.

"No, I've tried so hard, why won't you die?" Without saying another word, Ian pounced on the King in Yellow, straddling him and gripping his neck tightly with both hands.

They returned to the human world.

This was a situation Ian had not anticipated.

He was in an extremely small city, and he dared not use the Ultra Bomb at will. Now he could only begin to mentally prepare himself.

"Should I eat it? Or should I eat it... It's really hard to eat, and there's no experience or reward..." Ian freed one hand and drew the holy sword from behind his back.

He genuinely found it difficult to accept Cthulhu sashimi.

I'd like to try some other things.

This weapon, which had gone on strike in heaven, has now been reignited with a blazing holy flame.

"Ha! As expected, once you leave that broken chair, you're just a slightly higher-level evil god!" Ian was overjoyed and plunged the holy sword into the Yellow King's chest without hesitation.

This time, the blade did not miss.

Blazing white flames surged wildly along the sword into the Yellow King's body, causing his yellow robe to burst into flames, the fabric twisting and carbonizing to reveal an indescribable chaos beneath. Strangely, the Yellow King remained silent, merely gazing at Ian as if deep in thought.

His true nature has been revealed.

Under the scorching heat of the holy sword, that false "human form" was torn apart, revealing countless intertwined, indescribable, writhing tentacles and a terrifying core that was difficult for ordinary people to look at directly.

Pollution is spreading, as if an invisible hand is manipulating the boundaries of reality. An indescribable odor permeates the air, like rotting reason.

It's like a ballad filled with filth.

People fell one after another, their bodies twisting and mutating, patterns that did not belong to this world appearing in their pupils, and they murmured ancient words.

Everyone was chanting the gospel of the King in Yellow. Perhaps the continued burning of the holy sword could end the King in Yellow, but at this moment, Ian knew he didn't have time for that protracted battle.

"As expected, the two divine artifacts that have been delivered to me will surely have a purpose." Seeing countless people suffering, he hurriedly took out the God-Slaying Spear Colt.

to be frank.

He truly hadn't predicted falling out of heaven. Without hesitation, Ian pulled out the Colt Godslayer Gun, raised the muzzle, and aimed it at the exposed essence on the Yellow King's forehead.

He pulled the trigger.

"boom--!"

A crisp gunshot pierced the heavens and earth, as if time itself had stood still. In that instant, Ian seemed to see the trajectory of the bullet as it cut through the air.

The bullet flew out of the gun barrel.

Without any flashy special effects, dazzling lights, or deafening explosions, the bullet simply pierced through the King in Yellow, its trajectory guided by the ironclad rules of the game.

This divine weapon, capable of killing everything, first imbued the King in Yellow with the concept of death, and then, using this concept as a weakness, ruthlessly pierced through His very essence.

Suddenly, the Yellow King's body shuddered violently. Its floating eyes snapped shut, its tentacles ceased writhing, and its entire being seemed to have been struck by some invisible law. For the first time, it displayed an expression of "pain," though that face did not belong to any known form or the emotional system of any living being.

The colors on the King in Yellow began to fade, like a mural being washed away by rain, the colors peeling off layer by layer, and the black mist that once surrounded him gradually dissipated.

death.

It has already arrived.

The indescribable evil god's entire body had turned into a statue-like form, constantly cracking.

"I will come back." This was the first time He had spoken to Ian, without any emotional fluctuation, His voice seemed to whisper directly into the depths of Ian's mind.

“No, you can’t come back.” Ian pointed Colt at the Necronomicon, which had fallen from heaven with him and the King in Yellow. It was now lying quietly on the ground not far away.

This is the real source.

If God gave Ian two bullets, it meant he had to fire two shots—Ian understood this, and once again, without hesitation, he aimed at the Necronomicon and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot shattered the night like a thunderbolt of divine punishment. The second bullet whistled through the air, striking precisely the cult classic known as the "Necronomicon."

There was no explosion.

The Necronomicon began to crack.

The cover, which had originally gleamed with an eerie luster, began to fade rapidly, as if it had been directly disintegrated by some invisible force. As the spine cracked, eerie black shadows poured out from the cracks.

That was no ordinary book; it was a forbidden vessel. At first, only a few thin, dark shadows seeped out from the cracks in the spine, but in the blink of an eye, they swelled into a tidal wave that blotted out the sky.

The shadows were distorted.

They twisted like mist, and wailed like ghosts, the sighs of something indescribable. An unspeakable darkness swirled and roared in the air, blotting out the sun.

In the distance, on the stained glass windows of the church, the faces of saints are slowly melting. Even the last vestiges of divine power are no longer able to protect those hiding amidst this chaotic dance of demons.

"Oh! No!!"

"Someone save us! I don't want to become a monster!"

"We're doomed! We're doomed!"

On the ceiling mural, between the fingers of God and Adam, twisted tendrils have quietly appeared. Every visitor who looks up notices this detail.

The church is being eroded.

The entire city is being eroded.

Each shadow stretched out countless withered, claw-like arms, reaching out in all directions. The air was polluted, the light was swallowed, and the entire sky above the Vatican City was instantly plunged into darkness.

It felt like the end of the world had come.

"So, the King in Yellow was just the first individual to invade and resurrect, and the Necronomicon contains so many evil Cthulhu creatures?" Ian stood still and looked up at the sky.

He could sense the presence of those shadowy figures—each one a remnant of a Cthulhu god. Some resembled octopuses, some were as large as mountains, and some were formless and shapeless.

All the shadows merely split and replicated, eroding the boundaries of reality like a virus. Those dark figures blotted out the sky, swirling in the air and emitting roars that didn't belong to any language system. A black sedan, fleeing, was struck by one of the dark figures, instantly tumbling and crashing into a nearby stone pillar.

The sound of metal deforming was mixed with screams.

The silver cross hanging on the rearview mirror had been corroded into a shape that kept blinking, from which the "huge" pope and a group of clergymen emerged.

"The Holy Sword was used at this moment, wasn't it?" Ian pulled the burning Holy Sword from the remains of the King in Yellow, whose final form crumbled into ashes in an instant.

He suddenly raised the holy sword and swung it with all his might.

Under the astonished gazes of the Pope and the bishops, the boy's sword pointed, and the blazing white holy flames poured down like a celestial river, transforming into a torrent of light that reached the heavens and the earth.

The holy flames swept out with overwhelming force, and wherever they passed, the dark figures were evaporated before they could even scream. The tainted souls were like snow meeting boiling water in the pure holy flames.

It melted away instantly.

Ashes are falling.

[Abnormal data analysis complete. New general data—All Things in the Universe—has been added to your [Mimicry Armor].] The system suddenly and unexpectedly provided this notification at this moment.

“No, what about my new profession?” Ian walked to the remains of the Necronomicon, which had now transformed back into a black notebook.

He held it in his hand but received no feedback from the system.

"The outer universe, the outer universe hidden inside." Ian shook the Death Note, but nothing came out. He angrily threw the Death Note on the ground and stomped on it a few times.

There were still some remaining dark shadows wriggling and struggling on the ground around them.

Ian swung the holy sword once more.

A blinding white light washed over every corner of the square like a tidal wave. It shone on every shocked face, on those pupils that had been eroded by pollution.

These people, corrupted by the outer universe, were covered in wisps of black mist that emitted silent shrieks in the flames before turning to ashes.

A priest raised his hand, trembling.

He watched as the eerie runes that had spread across his skin melted away like snow. His eyes cleared from their dazed state, but his lips trembled, unable to utter a single word.

"Oh, what happened?"

"Oh my god! We're saved!"

"Who is that person? A superhero?"

"I feel like he's an angel descended to earth!"

Everyone regained their clarity under the holy flame—the entire sky was illuminated, as if dawn had arrived early, and Ian stood in the most dazzling position of the light.

"You should be one of us!"

The remaining shadows behind him attempted to retaliate.

However, it spontaneously combusted within a radius of about 100 meters.

They turned into countless sparks scattered across the sky.

People stood frozen in place, their gazes unanimously fixed on the center of the square, where a boy stood beside a broken obelisk, the dazzling boy resembling a judge from mythology.

The burning sword in his hand was gradually going out.

However, this does not diminish the surge of emotions people feel when they look at him.

“Very good, all merit, full of merit, all the merit of Lord Ian.” Ian looked around, nodded in satisfaction, and then walked toward the Pope who had fallen to the ground.

The Pope's aged face was etched with shock as he looked up at the approaching youth, his fingers unconsciously tightening around his robes. In that instant, the Pope felt as if he had rediscovered his faith.

Are you an angel?

The Pope asked in an extremely devout voice, as if he had just seen the seraphim described in ancient books descending, sacred and unbearable to look at.

"Yes, you've actually missed offering to one angel, which is me. But I don't mind. Just offer to me more often from now on." Ian hadn't awakened his new class.

Therefore, he wanted to salvage his profits.

The boy's voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.

"I don't know who you are..." The Pope's throat bobbed, he didn't even dare to tremble, he just stared at the mimicry fleshy wings that suddenly appeared behind Ian.

They are wings made of real, pure shredded meat.

Sen Luo Wanxiang.

It can not only simulate the forms of Cthulhu gods.

"Of course I am the one who died and ascended to heaven, and then transformed into the Goddess of the Sky..." Ian was about to announce his name when a familiar female voice suddenly rang out behind him.

"It seems you've experienced another chapter in your story."

It's Miss Death, whom we haven't seen in a long time.

She had indeed arrived long ago.

Ian turned his head and saw Miss Death leaning against the edge of the fountain, the hem of her black dress swaying gently in the wind, holding the Death Note full of footprints in her hand.

"It's pure garbage. I tried writing 'a pervert who likes little boys' on it, but the Pope and those bishops are still alive. It's pure garbage Death Note."

Ian pointed to the Pope and the group of clergy in front of him.

"??????"

Not only did Miss Death's expression freeze on her face, but even the trembling Pope and cardinals shrank back in fear upon hearing these words.

They didn't know who Ian was talking to, but they knew they had once again narrowly escaped death. The clergy huddled together, trembling.

Ian ignored them and stared at the notebook in Miss Death's hand.

"There don't seem to be any extraterrestrial fragments inside?"

He asked about the thing that had been bothering him.

In this regard.

Miss Death nodded and explained, "This is just a vehicle for smuggling. In fact, I think the homeland of these filthy things has not truly been destroyed."

"If I'm not mistaken, for some reason, these evil beings would rather abandon their original power than leave their universe, which is not yet destroyed."

Her slender fingers gently caressed the cover of "Death Note".

"Coming to visit without bringing a gift is so rude." Ian was still lamenting that he had only gained the ability to mimic, which was completely useless. His evil god face was much scarier than the forms of the Cthulhu gods.

"Can't we just launch a counterattack against their universe?" The determined little boy gripped the holy sword, full of confidence. He felt he still had a chance to devour the fragments of the Cthulhu universe.

Upon hearing this, Miss Death closed the book and sighed softly.

“Then we need to find out where it originally came from—I never imagined that this book had been hidden in heaven all along.” Her tone carried a hint of frustration.

It is clear that they had searched for it desperately but to no avail.

There was dead silence in the square.

Even the Pope remained frozen in his kneeling position, completely unaware of who Ian was talking to. However, he could sense that he seemed to have overheard something extraordinary.

"So, can you find out who originally brought it to our universe?" Ian's visor snapped and changed shape several times, and the large mouth on the mask turned into an annoyed expression.

“Perhaps, but there’s a tricky problem now. Some kind of force is interfering with my investigation.” Miss Death said, weighing the Death Note in her hand with a puzzled tone.

"Is he the leader of the Cthulhus?"

Ian speculated that the Cthulhu creatures wanted to escape their original universe because the invasion from another universe had disturbed their Lord, the so-called blind and foolish god Azathoth.

"My omniscience can't cover the outer universe." Although Miss Death said she didn't know, her gaze kept turning to the short sword in Ian's hand, whose holy flame had been extinguished.

It is clear.

Miss Death had a guess in her mind.

However, she wasn't as bold as Ian.

"In any case, the remaining pollution hasn't been completely resolved yet. Perhaps you should go back to your city and help your family," Miss Death suddenly changed the subject.

"Metropolis is in trouble again?"

Before Ian could even speak, he knocked out several clergy members.

In case they overhear the fact that the stocking angels are still alive on earth.

“It’s not a big problem, but a dozen or so angels fell from heaven and crashed into the metropolis.” As she spoke, Miss Death raised her hand to show Ian a picture.

I saw.

In the images, more realistic than a high-definition movie, Ian saw his classmate, a delinquent girl, wielding the staff he had given her, repeatedly banging on the heads of several unconscious angels.

A lot of filthy slime seeped from the broken bodies of these angels, attempting to pollute the surrounding environment. Jordan was protecting Jonathan, who had fallen into a coma for some unknown reason.

What happened to my older brother?

Ian immediately tensed up.

"Who knows."

Miss Death's eyes flickered slightly.

……

Just as Ian took to the sky.

Meanwhile, Jonathan Kent huddled in endless darkness. He blamed himself for not only being useless but also putting his family and Ian's friends in danger.

“I thought they were just a few unconscious passersby… I never expected so many monsters to sprout from their bodies.” Jonathan hugged his knees tightly in the darkness.

I deeply regret my excessive kindness.

He didn't know if he was already in hell. His last memory was of Ian's friends and his brother, fighting against those strange, slimy creatures.

Jonathan had intended to use the tools by the roadside to help, but suddenly felt a heavy blow to his head, followed by a dizzying sensation, and then he was plunged into the boundless darkness.

Just like the nightmares I've had before.

As Jonathan searched everywhere but could not find his idol, he began to pray to the gods, asking them to punish him alone and hoping that the gods would extend a helping hand to Jordan and Madison, who had been attacked.

And at this time.

Suddenly, a ray of light pierced the darkness.

Jonathan looked up blankly and found that the surrounding darkness receded like the tide, replaced by a pure white space—no sky, no earth, no boundaries, only a soft white. In the distance, an old-fashioned leather sofa stood alone, with a television playing a program in front of it.

"What's going on?"

Jonathan hesitated before standing up and walking towards the sofa. The sofa was empty, but the television was playing "Armor Hero"—Ian's favorite tokusatsu series from his childhood.

It seems like I still enjoy watching it even now that I'm older.

At this moment, the hero on the screen had just lost his transformation ability, but he still stood in front of the monster to protect the civilians.

"Even if I lose the ability to transform, I can still defeat you!" The protagonist on TV wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and his unwavering voice was transmitted to Jonathan's ears through the speaker.

"Can you really be a hero without power? Like me, I only know how to cause trouble..." Jonathan sighed bitterly, not knowing why he had such a dream.

The story on the television continues.

A group of young people clad in armor fight side by side, never flinching in the face of evil. They are not gods, nor are they invincible, but they possess faith, courage, and a spirit of sacrifice.

"A true hero is not defined by how much weight you can lift, but by how much responsibility you are willing to take on for others." One of the figures seemed to be lecturing the villain.

It's as if they're speaking to viewers outside the television set.

"Like Dad and Ian, right?"

Jonathan murmured softly.

at this time.

A gentle voice sounded in his ear.

"Why can't it be you? Everyone has their own story. Perhaps, your legend just hasn't begun yet." This voice appeared very abruptly.

Jonathan turned around abruptly and saw an old man in pajamas walking slowly towards him. His hair was white, his face had a kind smile, but his eyes were as deep as the stars in the sky.

"you are……?"

Jonathan asked hesitantly.

The old man didn't answer. Instead, he walked to the television and reached into the screen to take out a silver belt. It looked brand new, with a noticeable groove in the center.

“If you’re so eager to help others, perhaps I can offer you some assistance.” The old man handed the belt to him and placed it directly into Jonathan’s hands.

"This is just a dream, right? Or... is some evil god bewitching me again?" Jonathan tried to return the belt, but found it was stuck to his hand.

"What's this……"

His eyes widened.

"It's the miracle you hoped for," the old man said softly. He gave Jonathan a final smile, then turned and walked toward the white horizon, his figure gradually disappearing into the vast white space.

The surrounding white space began to fade.

Jonathan suddenly opened his eyes.

The ear-piercing sounds of metal clashing and shouts immediately flooded the eardrums.

"Quick, go find Ian! I'm out of strength, these guys' heads are so hard, I can't crack them!" Madison's voice came from the nearby defense line.

With a muffled thud, like a lamppost hitting a hard object.

"You're a witch! A witch!"

Jordan's shouts were filled with terror.

“Ian said that’s what witches are like!” Madison retorted breathlessly. “Learning magic is just to show off your talent; when you encounter an enemy that magic can’t defeat, you have to resort to real methods!”

Another series of "thump-thump" knocking sounds followed by a hoarse howl from some creature.

Jonathan struggled to sit up.

He found himself lying in a makeshift isolation room.

“Just like that notebook, things from my dream have come to life.” Jonathan looked down at his waist, where a futuristic-looking belt was quietly wrapped around his waist.

The groove in the center of the belt emitted a faint blue light.

It's not just the belt that's glowing.

Even the statues of gods he had collected—Zeus, Odin, Shiva… all the statues were now shimmering with a strange light, as if responding to the belt’s call.

Among all the shimmering idols.

The Shiva statue that always devoured the offered curry rice shone the brightest. Jonathan, as if possessed, grabbed the Shiva statue and inserted it into the groove of his belt.

“Click.”

A crisp click rang out, and in an instant, dazzling light burst forth from the belt!

"boom--!!!"

Amidst the deafening explosion.

The makeshift shelter built from car parts collapsed with a crash. Madison and Jordan, who were fighting the monster, turned around in shock and saw a figure running out from among the flying metal debris.

This is a figure completely shrouded in four-arm armor. What is most breathtaking is the long, flaming hair that dances around, each flame pulsating with a rhythm of destruction and rebirth.

"Jordan! What did I tell you! People need faith! When I get back, I'll have Ian consecrate my statue!" Jordan's familiar voice came from inside the armor.

“???!!!!!!”

Jordan was stunned.

He and Madison stared in astonishment at the dazzling divine light that erupted from the center of the armor's forehead, a weapon adorned with special effects, annihilating all the polluted byproducts flowing from the angels on the ground. Then, the "armored warrior" simultaneously unfurled all four arms, and the drumbeats of a dance of destruction suddenly resounded throughout the heavens and earth.

The filth that fell upon the angels danced to the beat of the drums—and then marched toward destruction.

"Is this okay?"

"Your eldest brother went to India for further studies!"

This scene.

Apart from Jordan and Madison.

In fact, there were also witnesses from a third party.

"Tsk tsk tsk~"

Los Angeles.

Light bar.

Lucifer sat in front of a dozen television screens, his glass of wine, which he had brought to his lips, paused slightly. He squinted, staring intently at the image displayed on one of the televisions.

"What's going on with that mortal? How did a belt suddenly appear in his hand, and he even used it to transform?" The bartender demon leaned in front of the TV, looking astonished.

Lucifer did not answer.

He just stared at the image on the television screen.

He took a small sip of wine.

"What else could it be... it's what you're thinking." Finally, Lucifer gave a rather unpleasant reply, mainly because he thought of the person who made him unhappy.

"Superman's eldest son got the support of your bastard father? Didn't that old guy always say he didn't like interfering with human life and free will or anything like that?"

As a devil, the female bartender naturally had no respect for God whatsoever.

Hear the words.

Lucifer was very satisfied with the bartender's attitude.

“That’s the most interesting part.” He reached out and aimed at his glass, a little bit of hellish frost seeping out, chilling the whiskey in the glass.

“That’s actually just a toy that costs 19.9 yuan with free shipping on Amazon. Yes, don’t look at me like that. Even now, it’s just a toy with free shipping… That’s why I say this universe is really interesting.” Lucifer turned his gaze to another television set with a sticker that read “Evil God Funny Face.”

Earth 53.

The Lord of Hell whispered something.

"Huh? We're on Earth 53 right now?"

The female bartender looked at her master with some confusion. As far as she knew, there should only be 52 Earths in the multiverse, so how could there be a number 53?
(End of this chapter)