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

Chapter 147 Warhammer Crisis! Ian Suffers a Sudden Illness!
Within the DC universe.

There is no fixed number regarding the number of archangels.

One theory suggests that there are seven archangels, each representing Monday through Sunday, and these archangels are also considered to be the angels of the seven planets.

However, there is no strong evidence to support this claim. The truth may be a secret that many ordinary angels do not know. The angels only know that there are four archangels who are the most active in the entire heaven.

They are the four archangels, led by Michael, who are the creators of Heaven. As the second most powerful being after God, Michael is recognized by many angels as the foremost being below God.

Its name means "one who resembles God".

The god in this context is naturally the supreme God. Because of this noble status, Michael has always held a unique position in Heaven, especially after he led the angels to defeat the rebellious Lucifer.

All the other archangels were inherently inferior to Michael, and were also much weaker in terms of power. Not only Michael, but all the angels never expected that Michael would one day lose his power.

"No! Impossible! There must be some mistake! Father! Father!" Michael ignored Madison's propaganda and shouted hoarsely at the sky.

His face was filled with disbelief, an inability to accept that he had lost his power. After all, as an archangel, his essential difference from other angels lay in the fact that he was like Lucifer.

They are all God's true children.

Suddenly abandoned by his father.

Even after living for countless years, Michael still found it hard to accept—which is understandable, since according to Ian, every archangel is actually a giant baby of heaven.

The giant baby in heaven, of course, could not accept that he had lost his father's love. Amidst the ruins, the gates of heaven lay crookedly embedded in the rubble, standing firm no matter how Michael called upon God.

The exquisite reliefs above still show their faded and mottled appearance, just like all the angels, and the sign with the words "No Tickets Allowed" written by Ian himself still hangs on the door frame.

It was as if it had become one with the Gates of Heaven. Michael tried to tear it off, but his strength, which was now only slightly greater than that of an ordinary person, seemed so weak.

Feeling their own weakness.

And the glory has faded.

The angel who created the world sat dejectedly before the gates of Heaven.

"Not only do team leaders get to spin the wheel of gratitude to Ian three more times each month than other angels, but outstanding team leaders also get the wonderful perk of half an hour of paid leave every day."

Madison continued her presentation, leaping onto the Gates of Heaven, swinging her long legs, and holding a stack of colorful flyers, enthusiastically promoting the company's benefits to Michael.

Her words were incredibly moving.

An even louder gasp rang out.

Several young angels had already started counting on their fingers how many benefits there would be to being a group leader.

"Dear angel friends! Actually, if you work hard, you also have the opportunity to become group leaders." Madison turned around and continued to use psychological manipulation on the angels.

No one is better at manipulating women than a green tea b*tch.

Her voice was clear and melodious, carrying a sense of sincerity, "The Paradise Division of Ian's Greatest Technology Group is so open-minded! I am your HR Director, Madison, the Unsung Witch."

This was Ian's way of motivating Madison. He gave Madison a resounding hero title and told her that if she ever became a big star, she could change her name to "The Viral Witch."

Madison wholeheartedly agreed with this.

I also really like this kind of advanced path.

"Can we be group leaders too?"

"On the same level as the great Michael?"

"Hiss~ Is this really possible?"

The angels seemed to really enjoy the environment with its own path to advancement. They had been in a rigidly hierarchical place like Heaven for too long and couldn't even imagine dining at the same table as the archangels.

"On the same level as me?" Michael seemed to realize something, his golden pupils contracted sharply, and his handsome face was now so gloomy it could drip water.

"enough!"

Michael suddenly roared, his eyes shining brightly with golden light—this shouldn't be happening. According to the plan, the angels should only be thrown into the human world to get some gilding and go through the process.

however.

Now he is also trapped in the human world.

It has lost its glory and power.

Things were spiraling out of control in a direction that had never been imagined, which filled Michael with gloom. He tried to use his power to teach the rude mortal in front of him a lesson.

only.

Michael's golden eyes were very bright.

But the power of creation he had just used, the power to rewrite reality at will, had fallen silent. Even with tears welling up in his eyes, nothing had happened in reality. The church ruins remained quiet, with only a few crows startled into flight. Madison tilted her head to look at him, not even a strand of her hair fluttering.

"Huh? Did you get sand in your eye?"

The little witch asked the question sincerely.

She saw Michael weeping.

“How could this be? Why is this happening? It shouldn’t be like this.” Michael stared at his hands in disbelief. Not only the glory, but the Seraphim power that had flowed within him for billions of years had vanished without a trace. That empty feeling made him tremble all over—as if his spine had suddenly been ripped out.

The great and mighty angels of heaven.

Now, not only has its glory been lost, but even its own power has been sealed. Yes, sealed. The difference between an archangel and an ordinary angel is that an archangel possesses its own power.

But now, that power has vanished.

It's as if it never existed.

of course.

The reason is also very simple.

This power also originates from the gift of God.

Only God has the power to seal his power. Michael, realizing that he was not possessed by something evil, but rather targeted by the Father God, found it difficult to accept the truth.

"Father! What did I do wrong?"

He roared at the sky, his voice heart-wrenching, filled with resentment and despair. His dull wings drooped down, and his face, which was once as radiant as the rising sun, was now as gray as a faded oil painting.

He was once the most powerful archangel in Heaven, and he personally slew countless fallen ones.

Now, however, he cannot even subdue a mortal.

He is no longer a soldier.

He was just...abandoned existence.

"Tell me! Please! Tell me!"

Michael still received no response.

Only a few withered leaves swirled past his eyes.

Madison was completely unaffected by the tragic scene. Instead, he excitedly pulled out his notebook and asked, "Archangel, can you sing? Dance? You must know a little rap, right?"

This is to find out if Michael has any special talents.

"Ok?"

Michael slowly turned his head.

His eyes were so dangerous, it looked like he wanted to devour Madison whole.

"Mortal, do you know who you are talking to? I am the right hand of God, the strongest angel, who once cast Lucifer into the abyss—" His voice was deep and thunderous.

It carried an unyielding and authoritative air.

"Snapped!"

Madison suddenly clasped his hands together, interrupting Michael's self-introduction.

"Yes, yes, that's it. The feeling of being a 'ladies' man is coming through. We can create a 'domineering CEO' persona for you, who is down on his luck but still living in the past."

Madison's eyes were frighteningly bright.

She truly understands the appeal of live streaming; Ian never makes a mistake in choosing an assistant.

"Of course, you also have to learn other talents. Even a down-on-his-luck domineering CEO can't be unable to dance, sing, or play basketball." Madison had strict requirements for the angels.

Hear the words.

Michael's expression froze.

He slowly raised his hand, instinctively wanting to unleash divine punishment upon this blasphemer—this archangel did indeed still possess residual power, but this power was far too residual.

"Huh~"

The Vice-King of Heaven went all out.

However, only a small breeze blew from his palm, just enough to lift Madison's bangs. Madison didn't feel threatened at all; in fact, he was pleasantly surprised.

"Wow! Is this your talent? 'The Archangel's Breeze'? That's great, I'm sure some viewers will love watching this on the live stream!" Madison seemed to be on a completely different wavelength from Michael.

She was focused on developing the business Ian had entrusted to her, and she even jotted down a note in her little notebook about Michael's livestream room, which would save her the need for an air conditioner or electric fan.

When it gets hot, Michael surely knows to blow himself some air.

"How dare you humiliate me like this!" Upon hearing Madison's words, Michael's face turned from white to red, then from red to green, and he lunged at Madison in a sudden attack.

The three-meter-long street lamp that had been left aside stood up automatically, eager to try, as if it wanted to win the title of the most glorious beating of Michael. Unfortunately, Michael was stopped by a group of angels.

"Your Majesty, please calm down!"

"A few decades is just a short time for us, almost like a blink of an eye. Lord Ian said that this is called 'atonement and spiritual practice,' an opportunity that God sent him to provide for us!"

"The angel of salvation will surely save all angels."

"To be honest, that streetlight really hurts when it hits your head. Your Majesty, you don't need to make yourself suffer like that."

……

A group of angels tried to persuade Michael, including the dozen or so unlucky angels who had been hit on the head by Madison in Metropolis and forced to dance awkwardly under the influence of some mysterious force—Ian had clearly found a successor to his craft since he stopped using a hammer to hit people on the head.

"let me go!"

Michael was pressed to the ground, his wings spread out awkwardly on his back. As he listened to the angels' repeated "advice," he felt the greatest humiliation he had ever suffered since birth.

struggle?

He was certainly struggling.

But the other angels were just as strong.

Michael was surrounded by the angels and pinned to the ground; it's hard to say whether personal feelings played a part in this. His chest heaved violently, his eyes filled with humiliation and resentment.

Michael looked at the group of former subordinates before him.

Now, everyone is starting to discuss "live streaming skills," "fan management," and "revenue sharing"... These are all things Madison taught before.

Michael felt completely unfamiliar with the situation.

Is this still an angel?

He suddenly realized something—he had lost control of everything.

The wind blew from the side, carrying whispers from afar.

"Gagagagagaga~"

A crow landed on an awning, tilting its head to watch the farce unfold. Its dark eyes reflected Michael's face, a mixture of shock, rage, and frantic roars—this once-majestic archangel was now being forced to press his handprints onto the "Ian's Greatest Technology Group Labor Contract" by a group of ordinary angels.

"How dare you treat me like this?!"

Michael's roar shook the rubble, sending stones tumbling down from the ruins. His golden eyes, once burning with divine flames, were now filled with rage and humiliation.

In this regard.

The angels certainly had a legitimate response.

"This is all so that you can return to heaven with us!"

"Yes, yes, the savior angel is clearly the Lord's choice!"

"Lord Michael is so powerful, he will definitely be able to complete his atonement sooner than us."

……

From the perspective of these angels, their judgment was largely correct. Even Michael had lost his glory, which naturally proved that the savior angel was the correct archangel.

"Damn it! There's no savior at all..."

Michael's roar got stuck in his throat.

The instant his soul contract took effect, a long-lost radiance suddenly flowed back into his body. Though faint as a candle flame in the wind, it was indeed the power that truly belonged to him!

Even his body seemed to regain a touch of glory.

"this"

Michael's pupils suddenly dilated.

He looked down at the faint golden light flickering in his palm, his voice filled with doubt and surprise. Could this absurd contract truly be the will of God? Was the Lord testing him in this way?
"How so? Ian's Greatest Tech Group never forces angels to work."

Madison, biting her pen cap, blinked, waiting for his answer. Michael took a deep breath, suddenly becoming unusually calm: "I don't want to entertain the world with my singing."

He is certainly not stupid.

The problem has been recognized.

However, they still wanted to maintain some basic principles.

The archangel's change was so swift that even Madison was momentarily stunned.

What other talents do you have?

Madison clutched her little notebook again, which was filled with many magical symbols she had made up herself. Only she could understand them, and they had no real magical significance.

It's purely for aesthetics, for decoration.

"I'm very good at fighting."

Michael got up from the ground and responded in a deep voice.

"There aren't any high-paying mercenary jobs right now, let's wait a bit longer. Do you have any other talents?" Madison took out his phone and searched for a while before shaking his head in rejection.

Upon hearing this, Michael remained silent for a moment.

"I will also punish sinners."

His voice was slightly stubborn. After all, compared to the other angels who had some talent, how could the most powerful angel, as the vice-ruler of heaven, possibly have any human skills?

“Well, that works too. Dark web streaming is still streaming!” Madison pondered for a moment and found a suitable path for Michael. She clearly had a more flexible mind than Ian.

The decision to have Michael stream his AisiAim tutorials on the dark web might even spark discussions about gender diversity. The little delinquent harbors a true demon within.

Unfortunately, Michael, who had lost his power, could not sense it.

but.

"I don't want to do a live stream!"

He himself resisted the act of pleasing mortals. Unlike other angels who conformed to the arrangement, this vice-ruler of heaven still believed that humans were merely pets kept by God.

How could he, as the son of God, possibly please a pet?

“But Ian only planned two routes—and I can’t find any new tracks either.” Madison flipped through her notebook with a puzzled look, realizing that she had also been exposed to areas where she was unfamiliar with the subject.

Fortunately, this predicament didn't last too long.

"I'll go tighten the screws!"

Michael practically roared those words, his handsome face contorting for a moment. The dignified Vice-King of Heaven would rather work on a factory assembly line than smile in front of a camera!
"Alright alright."

Michael was finally assigned to screwing in screws, just as he had hoped. Madison, though looking disappointed, still registered him and handed him a copy of "The Screwman's Handbook: From Beginner to Master".

[Once you looked down upon all living beings from heaven, now you need to experience human suffering firsthand. Bowing your head is not a humiliation, but a feeling of entering the world, and incidentally, it's also to avoid being hit on the head by falling parts... This book aims to help all newbies quickly adapt to assembly line work and achieve the leap from "Trainee Ordinary Screwdriver" to "Super Heaven Level 10 Fitter Grandmaster" as soon as possible!]

The content is only a few hundred thousand words.

This is an impromptu creation by the great writer Ian.

There are hundreds of different levels for the angels to ascend to—clearly, Ian has also used some game design techniques, which he believes will have a positive impact.

The other angels were also very interested in this.

Only the archangel's expression changed continuously.

"..."

Michael's knuckles turned white as he gripped the manual, barely managing to refrain from tearing it up on the spot. Just as he was about to turn and leave, a screeching sound of brakes interrupted the farce.

A rusty truck was parked crookedly in front of the ruins.

"It's here, it's here."

Jordan jumped out of the passenger seat and dusted himself off.

What about the shipping cost?

He reached out to Madison for money.

Madison looked at the dilapidated truck.

"Ian clearly booked a large bus. You even take a cut from your own brother's money?" The young delinquent didn't immediately take out her money, but instead looked at Ian's second brother in disbelief.

"At this point, where am I supposed to rent a large bus? No normal person would dare to go to Gotham right now," Jordan said, rolling his eyes in a self-righteous tone.

His words were not without merit.

Running through Gotham late at night.

It's obviously a trap to rob someone.

Not to mention the disaster that happened in Gotham today. Everyone knows that Gotham is in a terrifying situation, so only superheroes are not afraid of being infected by the mysterious virus.

In this regard.

After thinking about it for a while, Madison also felt that it made sense.

“A large truck and a large bus can’t be the same price.” Madison curled his lip, counted out a stack of bills, carefully counted them, and then had the angel who was good at math count them again before handing them over to Jordan.

“Ian said I can take a small commission.” Jordan took the money, skillfully pulled out half and stuffed it into his pocket, then turned and handed the rest to Black Lightning in the driver’s seat.

"No, can't you hide it from me a little bit?" Black Lightning, an obscure superhero from Metropolis, stared speechlessly at this blatant act of corruption.

Jordan felt no shame whatsoever.

"This is the commission I deserve. In the 21st century, the most important thing is access to resources. But this has provided you with an opportunity to supplement your family income. You should thank the Metropolitan Superheroes Designated Guild."

He patted Black Lightning on the shoulder, feigning profundity. The Kent family has many talented people, like Ian, who wants to create a new Justice League, and Jordan, who secretly established the Superhero Guild.

"..."

Black Thunder's lips twitched a few times.

He looked back in the rearview mirror and saw Madison beckoning the angels to climb onto the cargo container. Because his wings were folded, Black Lightning only saw a group of handsome men and beautiful women.

A few people were still whispering about "atonement points".

"Is this really something Superman arranged for you? To resettle these refugees?" Black Lightning asked suspiciously, mainly because he didn't think Gotham had such seemingly innocent residents.

"Of course."

Jordan nodded without changing his expression. The Kent family has many superheroes, he didn't say which one, but even if his dad caught him, he would get away with less of a beating for lying than Ian.

Ian doesn't tell the truth.

Jordan is always telling the truth.

“I’ll go and ask Superman for confirmation!” Black Lightning doesn’t actually have much of a chance to see Superman, but that doesn’t stop him from being cautious. Ever since the investigation into smuggling led to the CIA, he’s been very careful.

The truck wobbled and swayed as it drove toward the bridge connecting Gotham and Metropolis.

Black Thunderbolt kept his ears perked up, listening intently.

He overheard the little girl behind the cargo container teaching the refugees how to work efficiently. The more he listened, the more uneasy he felt, as if he were aiding and abetting a few children in human smuggling.

Black Thunderbolt felt a little panicked.

Unfortunately, Jordan stopped talking after getting on the bus.

He caught a glimpse of the boy in the passenger seat browsing the Amazon shopping platform.

"What are you doing?" The obscure superhero broke the eerie atmosphere, but Jordan simply covered his phone screen and shook his head frantically with a guilty look on his face.

"It's just online shopping, it's normal, everyone shops online." Jordan declined to reveal that he was looking for a girlfriend, but he was also looking forward to no longer being confined to the small Holy Grail.

What is all about realism?

Imported silicon-based.

A life-size replica of a real person.

Those advertising slogans thrilled Jordan.

"Don't get distracted while driving. Many car accidents are caused by a lack of focus while driving," Jordan reminded Black Lightning, and the atmosphere fell silent again.

Only Madison, inside the freight car, continued to frantically describe to the angels how treacherous the human world was, drawing upon his knowledge of Hollywood.

"Those government officials like to keep traffic angels in District 51. The stray angels are all captured and used for experiments. Only our official employees can get protection!"

"Even if you go out and kick a dog, there will be terrifying assassins chasing you, or kidnapping you to an island and forcing you to play a battle royale game."

"Hey, don't get so scared that you start shedding your feathers. If you start shedding your feathers now, you won't have a chance to exchange them for Paradise Points in winter."

Madison was clearly very concerned about the condition of the angels' feathers.

After all, Ian had promised to give her a down jacket as a year-end bonus in the winter—and so the truck drove back to the metropolis in this eerie atmosphere.

"So it really is about resettling refugees?"

Black Lightning didn't feel a little relieved until the car stopped in front of an apartment building and he watched Madison lead the group of "refugees" through the check-in process in an orderly manner. Especially when a beautiful girl earnestly asked, "What's the dorm's WiFi password?", he finally dispelled his terrifying suspicion that "the Kent family is going to open a slave plantation."

“There’s no fixed number for the Wi-Fi password. To prevent others from using your Wi-Fi, all you need to do is praise Ian to the router ten thousand times.” Madison thought this made perfect sense.

"?????"

However, Black Thunderbolt was dumbfounded.

He had never seen such a shameless router.

"The appliances and furniture here seem to be the first batch of test products produced by Ian's factory." Jordan stroked his chin, seemingly lost in thought.

"..."

Black Thunderbolt's silence is not just because it touched on a blind spot in its knowledge.

Also because Madison was watching him.

It seemed as if they were afraid he would steal something from here.

That's racist!

Black Thunderbolt was very dissatisfied.

"I know."

Madison nodded readily, without even offering a perfunctory apology—seeing this, Black Lightning angrily stepped on the gas and left the apartment building with his pent-up extra income.

"Wait for me!"

Jordan flew straight up and climbed into the passenger seat. The angels were beautiful, but Jordan remained unmoved, because he wasn't particularly fond of three-dimensional girls.

The two-dimensional virus that Ian kept in his computer was truly beautiful.

"Male angels live in one building, and female angels live in another." Madison didn't seem to care about Jordan's departure; she was shouting through a megaphone.

I really enjoy being a senior manager.

“Remember, don’t have any worldly desires for your fellow angels—” she winked and added. The angels nodded in agreement.

After all, there are similar rules in Heaven.

however.

"However, you can have worldly desires for humans. There are humans everywhere outside, so dating is allowed. Ian said this is to promote cultural exchange between the celestial realm and the human realm!"

Madison's tone carried a hint of guilt.

It is obvious that they are falsely conveying an imperial edict.

She did this mainly because she wanted to see what a Nephalem looked like.

"nonsense!"

Michael suddenly looked up.

His golden pupils suddenly contracted.

He wanted to continue his tirade, but Madison's phone rang. It was her parents. After arranging accommodations for the angels, she flew away while answering the phone.

Yes.

It flew away.

Just as Michael was about to lose his temper, Madison had already mounted his lamppost and soared into the night sky like Harry Potter riding a broomstick.

In ancient times, witches rode brooms; now, witches ride lampposts. Isn't this keeping up with the times? Michael stood there, so angry that the wings hidden within his body trembled.

"Nephalem must never be born! That would be the beginning of disaster!" He turned to the angels and solemnly warned them. The angels nodded seriously and all said they would never make such a grave mistake.

Holding their room keys, they began to try to experience human life and returned to their assigned dormitories. Only Michael, who was holding the room key for the group leader's private room, did not move.

In the dead of night.

The archangel sat alone on the rooftop of the apartment building.

He certainly wasn't going to jump off the building.

But he was still somewhat unwilling to accept it.

"Father, great Lord, what do you want from us?" Michael's wings were revealed, but the once pure white feathers were now unusually dull.

It flapped its wings twice.

Michael realized that he could no longer even fly using them.

"Uriel! If you can hear me, please pull me up." Michael looked up at the starry sky, trying to find the direction of heaven, and prayed to his brother in his heart.

The night breeze blew by, but there was no response.

Only the exclamation of an angel came from downstairs.

"I boiled some water, and after the water was boiled, the kettle made a sound like a whistle praising the savior angels?" Clearly, the new-age technology has somewhat surprised the angels from heaven.

This commotion once again made Michael feel incredibly distressed.

"Uriel! I call upon you in the name of my brother! Answer me!" The wind blew across his tattered wings and ruffled his broken armor as he prayed again and again.

It was as if that was his last hope.

“Uriel… as long as I can return to Heaven, I can find a way to regain my power. Take me back quickly, otherwise Lucifer might take this opportunity to seize control of Heaven.”

Michael's voice pierced through the clouds.

no respond.

Only the sound of the wind and the hushed conversations of the angels in the distance could be heard.

"Has Uriel also lost his glory?"

Michael covered his face with his fingers, beginning to wonder if even his own brother had been kicked out of Heaven and could no longer hear his prayers.

however.

Is this really the case?

In a place beyond Michael's sight, in Heaven, it was not as desolate as he had imagined. Uriel, who was there, did indeed hear his brother's prayers.

only.

His response was not the one Michael had expected. The cherubim of Heaven, after surveying the Earth, appeared as if possessed by an evil spirit.

He heard Michael's prayer.

He heard it perfectly clearly.

But he didn't respond; instead, he started acting frantically.

He dragged in heavy metal chains and tightly bound the gates of heaven leading to the human world; he sealed the runes on the gates with sacred fire, and even used his own blood to draw forbidden spells.

Completely block the passage.

Uriel is not incapable of saving Michael.

He dared not save her.

He knew that Michael had been abandoned by God.

Any attempt to establish contact with the fallen is considered rebellious.

“Great Lord, my beloved Father,” Uriel’s voice trembled as he prayed, “I swear I have never been disloyal to you! Michael’s fall has nothing to do with me!”

The cherubim activated his wisdom. While praying, he frantically piled things behind the gates of Heaven: the Ark of the Covenant, an altar, and even several statues of cherubim.

He blocked them all at the doorway.

It's as if they're afraid they might accidentally fall out of heaven.

This guy was frantically professing his loyalty to God, constantly denouncing Michael for being too depraved, saying that brotherhood was nothing compared to his ability to remain in Heaven.

of course.

In Uriel's own view.

He was obeying the will of the Lord.

However, the wind blows from afar, carrying whispers that do not belong to this world. Within the high walls of heaven, perhaps there are no longer boundaries between loyalty and betrayal.

“Father, I am your most faithful servant, and my loyalty to you has never wavered. Michael is no longer the guardian of Heaven, and I certainly will not answer his prayers.”

"You can rest assured."

Just as Uriel was praying frantically, unbeknownst to him, a crow silently landed on the window frame above him, staring at him for a long time before letting out a somewhat grating laugh.

"Gagagagagagagaga~"

A piercing cawing of crows suddenly rang out.

The raven's blood-red eyes stared mockingly at Uriel.

"Get out of here! Lucifer's spy!"

Uriel looked up abruptly, his expression changing drastically. He roared and waved his arms, trying to scare the crow away, not daring to use his strength, fearing that his power would diminish with each use.

The crow flapped its wings and took flight.

But it paused for a moment in mid-air.

Immediately afterwards, a familiar and mocking voice came from its mouth.

"I absolutely love this scene."

It is Lucifer Morning Star.

He didn't choose to invade Heaven; instead, he chose to mock it. At this moment, Lucifer was sitting in a corner of the Bar of Light, holding a small raven doll in his hands.

It's like talking to a crow doll on the phone.

The background music in the bar consisted of deafening explosions mixed with electronic music.

"Uriel, come listen to the new music in my bar!"

As Lucifer drank, he grinned mischievously and brought the plush toy close to the speaker. "Bang bang bang~ Isn't the rhythm great? A bunch of humans will be using this to dance tomorrow night!"

His voice was full of schadenfreude.

In heaven.

Uriel's face turned ashen upon hearing the noise through the eerie crows—he realized it wasn't electronic music at all, but a recording of the Holy City's explosion!
It was arranged into a really, really upbeat song!

"Give my regards to Michael. Oh, I almost forgot, he can't hear my greetings anymore. He's on a rooftop now, licking his wounds in self-pity."

Lucifer's cheerful voice was full of joy, "Uriel, don't worry, although I don't like you, I'm still willing to offer you a bartender job."

"Daily wages, guaranteed training, I'm here waiting for you to fall into the mortal world." Lu Sansui's voice was full of sarcasm, which made Uriel furious.

"roll!!!"

Uriel couldn't resist unleashing a burst of holy fire, instantly turning the raven to ashes. But Lucifer's laughter still echoed in the temple, like a nightmare that could never be dispelled.

"Hahahahahaha~!"

Lucifer was indeed still laughing in his bar, and heaven knows how many years it had been since he had been so happy; the whole bar was filled with the joy of the Lord of Hell.

at this time.

The Demon King Crowley is mopping the floor.

"Even the archangels have fallen? This is astonishing." He stared at the television screen, his eyes narrowing sharply. On the screen, Michael was silently weeping.

Crowley knew very well that chaos would ensue in Heaven.

But I never expected it to be this funny.

His intuition told him that this was no simple matter.

"The power of the archangel, gone just like that?" Crowley turned to Lucifer behind the bar, his tone incredulous. He knew very well that Michael was the 'Hand of God' who could create reality from nothingness.

"Don't think of archangels as invincible." Lucifer swirled his wine glass, his usual nonchalant smile still on his face. He held up his thumb and forefinger, making a thin slit.

“Michael is very strong, but between him and God, there is me. Don’t underestimate this line of difference. It may seem like only a line, but in reality, the entire multiverse can be contained within this line. He is to me as I am to that crazy God. There is an insurmountable gap between mortals and gods.”

Perhaps Lucifer represents arrogance, but in reality, Lucifer has always been the most clear-headed angel, and his words left Crowley speechless.

“What is God trying to do?” Crowley frowned, unable to help but speculate about the intentions of the Supreme Being. He was clearly not as intelligent or clear-headed as Lucifer.

Lucifer suddenly burst into laughter and shoved the phone into Crowley's hand: "What does that have to do with us? Enjoy the moment! Come on, take a video of me."

talking.

Lucifer also straightened his always spotless suit from Los Angeles.

A bewildered Crowley raised his phone, and Lucifer in the video suddenly clutched his stomach, pointed at the camera, and burst into laughter. His exaggerated laughter even shattered several chandeliers.

"Hahahaha~"

Lucifer laughed in a very exaggerated way.

"What are you doing?" Crowley decisively took a video and carefully handed the phone back.

“Of course, it’s about having some fun.” Lucifer licked the wine off his lips, his gaze returning to the television. On the screen, a group of angels were learning a hot dance lesson sent to them remotely by Madison.

Both men and women take the same course.

"Wheat!" Lucifer took another sip of his drink, then suddenly shouted towards the distance, "Go check how much money we have left! I'm going to invest it all in Ian Kent's company!"

His tone was eager and impatient.

What crazy thing are you going to do now?

The female bartender, who was wiping the glasses, rolled her eyes.

"I don't want shares!" Lucifer raised an eyebrow, excitedly holding up the newly recorded video. "I just want him to play my handsome face on a loop on the company's big screen!"

have to say.

Luke, at three years old, knew how to humiliate angels.

"Wait, I'll check the accounts." Mai Zi was silent for a moment. She looked at the group of angels on TV, and her disgust for Heaven finally overcame her anger towards Lucifer.

Crowley watched Wheat's departing figure and couldn't help but lower his voice to ask Lucifer for some advice.

"Was that boy really a savior?"

Although Crowley had other suspicions about Ian, such as that Ian was God's alternate account on Earth, his suspicions were obviously not as accurate as the information from Lucifer's side.

Lucifer did not answer immediately.

Instead, he poured himself another glass of wine.

"He has no blood relation, incarnation, or power connection with God. However... the title of 'angel of salvation' is quite fitting."

He stared at the "Evil God Funny Face" sticker on the TV screen, then looked at Ian standing next to Superman on the TV screen, poking Batman's eyeballs.

The glory that other angels can see.

How could the Lord of Hell not see it?

do not forget.

His identity as an angel has remained unchanged.

“Ian Kent, the little boy whom God values ​​highly, is no ordinary boy. His origins, his very being… all conceal God’s unease about certain things.”

“I believe that the unease did not stem from the so-called invasion from outer space.” The neon lights of the Bar of Light flickered outside the window, casting Lucifer’s profile in alternating light and shadow.

He was still looking at the television set with the "Funny Face of the Evil God" sticker on it. On the screen, Ian, who was in the underground base, was studying Batman with his elderly father.

In the dimly lit medical ward of the underground base, Batman lay supine on a hospital bed, his body covered in eerie, purplish-black scars. These lines seemed alive, undulating under his skin with chilling, unsettling movements. Most terrifying of all were his eyes—their eyeballs bulged out dramatically, as if they might pop out of their sockets at any moment.

"Snapped!"

Ian skillfully reached out and pressed Bruce's bulging eyes back in, but as soon as he let go, the two gray-blue pupils popped out like glass beads.

Ian pressed again.

Batman's eyes widened again.

It goes on and on.

"Are you playing with Bruce's eyeballs?" the Flash couldn't help but ask, his Speed ​​Force active on his retina, which allowed him to capture the pulling of Ian and Batman's eyeballs.

"I'm preventing tentacles from growing under Uncle Bruce's eyeballs." Ian had just heard the Flash say that the audacious Batman actually dared to inject Cthulhu contamination into his body.

If Batman doesn't mutate, who will?
"Are you really not thinking about killing Batman, forging a paternity test, and then inheriting Wayne Enterprises?" The Flash didn't have much faith in Ian's bottom line.

Hear the words.

Ian couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Do you know I'm an entrepreneur now? My company's prospects are much brighter than Wayne Group's." Ian no longer cares about Wayne Group's paltry sums.

He believed his company had a brighter future. Therefore, the Wayne Corporation deeply regretted losing a great regent. This was not only a loss for the Wayne Corporation, but also a tragedy for Damian; Damian would probably never again experience the joy of finding true love as a powerless young master.

Ian felt sorry for Damian.

He then pressed Uncle Bruce's eyeballs back in.

“I have a feeling you guys don’t really want to save Bruce,” Uncle Barry said suspiciously, looking at Superman. Clark was scanning Bruce with his X-ray vision, a motion he’d repeated tens of thousands of times. He suspected Superman wanted to expose Bruce to radiation in this way, thus inflicting some terrible radiation sickness that would only manifest in the future.

of course.

This is clearly judging Superman by the standards of The Flash. Clark has always only thought about when he will have the chance to snap Batman's neck after he turns to the dark side.

He wouldn't even think about whether he should wear a suit to Batman's funeral.

Superman is genuinely investigating Batman's problems.

"His organs are still functioning normally. In reality, what we are seeing is just an appearance that exists between existence and non-existence. However, this 'non-existent appearance' will likely overshadow reality after a period of time." Superman is very different from before. His evolved vision allows him to see those traces of invasion more clearly.

"So, what should we do?" The constantly flashing [Error data, unable to absorb] prompts in Ian's vision were making him irritable. He had already tried various methods to save Bruce—purification with the Holy Sword, the Blasphemy Elegy, and even pouring some Godslayer gunpowder scraped from the Godslayer Gun into Bruce's veins, but none of them worked.

The contamination on Bruce's body has not been controlled or resolved in any way.

[Lament for Blasphemy: You can, through your unwavering faith, blaspheme the authority of the gods, stripping yourself and others of all positive or negative blessings.]

With his incredibly powerful and unique abilities, Ian can indeed remove the contamination from Batman, but he cannot remove the extraterrestrial energy attached to Batman.

That's not any state.

This means that even if the pollution is removed, new pollution will cover Batman again in the next moment. It's not just a temporary fix; the pollution on Batman is like bean sprouts that can't be cut off completely.

“Perhaps you could pray to that goddess you know again?” Superman suggested to Ian, knowing that Miss Death could teleport to outer space.

“Miss Death isn’t as infatuated with me lately.” Ian sighed heavily. He had prayed, but Miss Death, who had clearly appeared in the Vatican before, was now nowhere to be found.

I don’t know what I’m busy with.

Sure enough, what's depicted in Japanese movies is true: wives who stay at home and don't receive enough attention from their husbands will have affairs with cleaning workers or sewer repairmen, and that's why.

indifferent.

It makes people distant.

Ian originally only wanted to test Miss Death for tens of thousands of years, but he didn't expect that Miss Death couldn't even last a year.

"What a fickle woman."

Ian sighed heavily.

The message "[Error data, cannot be absorbed]" kept appearing in his vision. He didn't know how to force out the contamination. He couldn't exactly let Batman's brain be chewed up, could he?

"I'm not a zombie!"

Ian was rather resistant to this behavior. He liked to eat all sorts of strange and energizing foods, which were necessary for his job. He didn't even like to eat broccoli on a regular basis.

Not to mention the human brain, which is even more terrifying than a pig's brain.

“Let me try my best.” Ian suddenly pulled a black box out of his pocket—playing precious footage that Martha Wayne had recorded in heaven.

He waved the photograph wildly in front of Bruce's wide-eyed eyes as if it were a sacred relic.

"Uncle Bruce! Your mom is calling you to have dinner in heaven! She made your favorite white food, boiled chicken breast with unsalted mashed potatoes. If you don't go, she's going to give it to my grandfather."

“Maybe they’ll send something else too.” Ian yelled into Batman’s ear, the photos playing from the black box almost touching Bruce’s face.

"Ian! What nonsense are you spouting?!"

This made Superman glance at Ian several times, his expression horrified. Superman reacted strongly, but Bruce clearly couldn't hear this heartwarming story of paradise.

"Looks like my killer move didn't work."

Ian blinked, looking slightly helpless. He didn't answer Superman's question. In the face of such a serious event, the fact that his grandfather Jonathan was having tea with another Martha would only disturb Superman's mind.

"No, what exactly did you just say?" Superman was a little frightened, as he had only just learned what Ian had gone through in heaven.

I don't even dare to think about it!

"Oh my god, has Ian figured out a new way to inherit Wayne Enterprises?" The Flash was stunned. Of course, he had also realized the problem that Superman had realized.

even.

He also suspected that Ian had premeditated this, so he arranged for someone to act as a pimp in Heaven.

“I’ve already said that Ian’s Greatest Technology Group has a brighter future than Wayne Group. I can advertise that all my products are made in the country. Does Wayne Group dare to say that it doesn’t use materials from the great Eastern country?”

"Do you know what 'Maga' means?! I can make America great again!"

Ian couldn't help but roll his eyes at the Flash three times. He knew that even if he were to engage in a price war with Wayne Enterprises on the same track, his tech group would inevitably emerge victorious.

"..."

The Flash has a hard time commenting on this.

They fell silent together with Superman.

"Let's think about how to save Bruce first." Superman temporarily put aside his distracting thoughts and did not take the Flash's suggestion to release the boy in his mind.

The only boy they could count on in this room was Ian.

but.

Seeing that Ian couldn't find a solution for the time being, Superman frowned and could only turn his attention back to Batman and start using his super brain.

“I’m going to give it a try.” Superman took a deep breath and gently placed his hand on Batman’s chest. Bruce Wayne’s heartbeat could be heard through the suit.

Yet it carried an unnatural echo.

That's actually an illusion.

However, it's not entirely an illusion.

If Bruce's situation continues to deteriorate, what was originally just a matter between reality and illusion could actually threaten Bruce's life.

"My new ability might be useful." Clark wasn't quite sure. He felt that since he could sense other people's thoughts, he might also be able to sense Bruce's current state of mind.

Thinking like this.

Clark closed his eyes and concentrated. He had no idea what he was getting into until he tried. And sure enough, he unlocked a new method of "listening"—empathy. Suddenly, in Superman's senses, the surrounding scenery began to distort and dissolve. The lights in the medical room went out rapidly.

Instead, a chaotic alternate dimension appeared.

When Superman opened his eyes again, he was standing before a bizarre temple. The building writhed as if alive, its walls adorned with countless contorted faces of agony, and its spires spiraled upwards like a spine. Crimson mist filled the air, and a cloyingly sweet fragrance permeated the atmosphere.

"Bruce!"

In the scene he experienced through empathy, Superman saw the figure he was searching for. In the center of the eerily sinister temple, Bruce Wayne stood ramrod straight.

Have you thought of an answer?

Batman spoke in a deep voice. Before him stood a malevolent god, whose body was composed of pure sensual pleasure and pain, and every contour of his body was constantly changing.

It was as if the very existence itself was an ultimate temptation. Of course, Bruce was no less impressive. He used the dream power he collected from Metropolis and the pollution left by Cthulhu to transform himself into a figure resembling the Fifth God in the dream world, with his body entangled in black, viscous Cthulhu-related substances.

He used those tentacle-like pollutants as weapons, fighting against the power of the alluring evil god.

"Time and time again, I didn't even notice you. Now, either take your universe and leave my body." Batman's voice was terrifyingly calm.

"Otherwise, we'll perish together under the corruption of Cthulhu." Batman was negotiating with the evil god, and his approach was clearly not as frustrating as that of Doctor Strange from another world.

To be willing to die together at the slightest disagreement—this tactic is truly too ruthless.

"Despicable! How dare you threaten me with poison from another universe?" The Fiend's androgynous, perfect face twisted in disbelief, clearly showing some apprehension about the contamination on Batman.

His voice was like a thousand overlapping harmonies, filled with irritation. There was no way around it; Slaanesh was the "Lord of Pleasure," the "God of the Senses," a warp god in the Warhammer world.

however.

even so.

He didn't want to become part of Cthulhu either. There are differences in the level of chaos and filth among different evil gods. Slaanesh doesn't dare to embrace Bruce now.

"Didn't you say I'd fall in love with you while screaming? Didn't you say you admired me?" Bruce sneered, and then deliberately let more black substance climb up his arm.

He took a step forward.

Countless Cthulhu contaminations began to permeate the temple.

"Aaaaaah!!"

The evil god let out a piercing scream.

"How dare you tarnish my perfection!"

He is dodging and running away.

"Now, answer me, make your decision!" Bruce's soul had already been half corrupted by Cthulhu's influence, but instead of backing down, he became even more forceful. He was using his own will as a price to forcibly introduce Cthulhu's corruption, creating an internal counterbalance to delay Slaanesh's complete control over him.

It's a big gamble.

Once it fails.

He will completely fall into depravity.

To become part of the Cthulhu contamination.

They will never be freed.

"So that's it!"

Superman witnessed this scene.

I immediately understood what had happened.

Bruce wasn't corrupted; he was using corruption to fight corruption! Those seemingly horrific scars were actually the result of a battle between two alien forces within Bruce's body.

"That's way too risky."

Superman's consciousness was immersed deep within Bruce's soul, before whom stood the eerie, mysterious temple. He stood at a distance, watching Bruce confront the evil god.

I was shocked.

However, just as he was about to continue observing, the alluring evil god suddenly looked up.

"Look at this human! He's using Cthulhu corruption to fight me! Aren't you going to do anything about it?!" The evil god's elegance was tinged with anger and panic.

It was as if He was accusing some hidden being.

“Control this mad human! If I’m corrupted, you and the others won’t escape either!” Slaanesh’s threat went unanswered.

She should probably sit at the same table as Michael.

Clark looked in the direction of the evil god's roar—at the edge of the shattered world, a colossal figure clad in golden armor and seated on a golden throne was watching them.

A comic book was on his lap.

When Superman's gaze met that of the figure, the figure actually nodded slightly to Superman.

In an instant, a massive amount of information flooded into Clark's consciousness: burning galaxies, endless wars, and the pollution of the warp. Ultimately, it all converged into a clear will.

Destroy us.

The fact that the other party was able to transmit information to Superman, and that such information at that, left Superman astonished. For a moment, he couldn't tell if this was some kind of conspiracy.

He has also encountered several extraterrestrial invasions.

and this.

This is the first time I've ever heard of an outer universe, and I actually hope it will be destroyed.

"He is not the supreme being of this world, but merely a part of it. Since he is unable to make decisions on his own, does he hope I can lend him a hand?"

Superman and the figure on the throne locked eyes.

He could clearly sense the other person's open heart.

"Who is he?" Superman's emotions fluctuated greatly. When he looked at the center of the temple again, he found that Bruce and the hideous and seductive evil god still hadn't noticed his presence.

“It’s no use. This corruption is far more evil than yours.” Batman was still confronting the evil god, the Cthulhu energy surrounding him clashing violently with the corrupting power of Slaanesh.

He was constantly grappling with the evil god.

Yet he ignored Superman, who was right next to him.

Just as Clark stepped forward to see if he could interfere with this area.

"Clark."

The Flash's call suddenly came from afar. Superman felt a pulling force in reality, and he took one last look at Bruce, who was being torn apart by the two kinds of pollution.

Immediately, consciousness snapped back to reality.

Clearly, Superman's hand had slipped from Bruce's chest as the Flash shook him. The lights of the underground base pierced his vision, and Superman looked at the Flash with some confusion.

"what happened?"

He sensed the Flash's anxiety.

“You’d better take a look at this. It has nothing to do with me. I don’t hit little boys. He can just fall down like that.” The Flash, Barry, pointed to Ian lying on the ground.

His expression was as if he had seen a ghost.

Clark looked in the direction the Flash was pointing and saw Ian lying on the ground with his hands folded in front of his chest and a peaceful smile on his face, in a posture that looked like he was about to be laid to rest.

There was also a sheet on the ground that Ian had pulled off Batman's hospital bed.

“I don’t know what happened either. Ian might be trying to scam me.” The Flash’s voice trembled. “We were discussing the high-tech stuff in Star Labs. He wanted to buy it, and I said I couldn’t make the decision for the Doctor. Then Ian suddenly said, ‘Time’s up,’ and then lay down on the ground and didn’t move.”

The Flash gave a very interesting account of what happened.

In this regard.

Superman was not surprised at all.

“Yeah, Ian is like this. He goes to bed right on time, which is pretty good. At least he didn’t move Batman and me out of the room and then lie in bed by himself.”

Clark was not surprised.

Instead, she defended her youngest son.

He is hiding something.

However, the somewhat excited Flash didn't notice.

“This isn’t just sleeping, I can’t even touch him…” The Flash’s hand poked at Ian, as if poking at an illusory bubble, his fingertips actually passing right through the boy’s body.

"This is definitely not normal. Has he been hacked too?" The Flash rambled on excitedly. He looked up, only to see Clark's incredibly deep gaze.

With a calm and undisturbed atmosphere.

(End of this chapter)