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

Chapter 171 Ian and His Nemesis

Under the glaring spotlights on the film set.

Jordan stared at the endorsement fee that had just been deposited into his mobile banking app, his mouth almost stretched to his ears in a grin. It was just a mold; he was so poor that he didn't care about the portrait rights of his private parts.

"According to Ian's logic, if my mold reaches the level of '10,000 conquests,' it's equivalent to me being a '10,000 conquest' myself. When I go to college, I won't just be broke, I'll also be able to chat with my roommates." Jordan's thinking was very avant-garde and insightful. He really was short of money, not just because silicon-based girlfriends were expensive.

It was also because he had always dreamed of having the capital to lend Ian a few rounds of high-interest loans, so that he could regain his dignity and personal charm as Ian's second brother.

Just as Jordan was envisioning the future.

"Jordan! Get ready to film the scene of Homelander drinking milk!" The director's shout came from afar, and Jordan immediately put down his vision and casually tossed his phone into a drawer.

"Here it comes! Are you using my favorite flavored yogurt? No? Luckily I brought my own."

Jordan stood up, straightened his Homelander cape, took a deep breath, recalled his father's teachings, and re-entered the role he was playing.

I saw.

Jordan picked up the glass of milk on the table and slowly brought it to his lips. His movements were elegant, and his eyes were deep, as if he were drinking not milk, but the hope of the entire United States.

Clearly, he has a special way of immersing himself in the role.

"That captivating gaze, that enraptured aura, absolutely amazing!" The director clapped excitedly, and the assistant director also gave a thumbs up. Jordan's restrained acting allowed them to deeply feel the realistic image that a comic book character should have. This performance truly made the directors marvel at Jordan, the lead actor who got in through connections.

really.

Oliver Queen, who specifically chose this child to play Homelander, has a keen eye for talent. No wonder the child became a billionaire; his discerning eye alone is enough to win people's hearts.

"Buzz~"

The phone in the drawer is ringing.

But Jordan was completely immersed in the role, a slight smile playing on his lips as he accepted everyone's praise. He felt like he had truly become that omnipotent, universally admired superhero. The second-generation Superman's "super hearing" was fully activated, yet he only heard the compliments, completely ignoring the phone vibrating incessantly in the drawer.

at the same time.

Ian, inside the Devil's Manor, was furious.

"Jordan's gotten too cocky! He dares to ignore Ian's calls! He better not let me catch him practicing his wrists at home again!" Ian's attempt to find someone to share his anxiety failed. Frustrated, he shoved half of his phone into Baal's mouth, who quickly pretended to chew a few times.

In reality, it simply shoved half of the phone back into its throat for Ian. Seeing Ian pacing back and forth in the drawing room, Dr. Hannibal, unaware of what was happening, floated over.

“I want to go home and see Misha. Maybe you can come with me, and she can prescribe some anti-anxiety medication for you.” In Dr. Hannibal’s eyes, Ian’s condition hadn’t improved at all because of his knowledge of Ian’s extraordinary abilities. In fact, Dr. Hannibal felt he had never seen anyone so terminally ill.

"Tomorrow, it's Friday, a good day to take medicine. I'll put you in a thermos and take you to school; it'll definitely be a wonderful surprise for Miss Misha!"

“Actually, if you have a little patience, I’ll put you in a gift box and give you to Miss Misha at Christmas. That will definitely be a thoughtful Christmas gift that Miss Misha will never forget.” Ian shared his previous Christmas plans with Dr. Hannibal while picking up a shovel and starting to dig a hole frantically in the backyard.

The pit gets deeper and deeper.

The undead poked their heads out of the ground, looking at their master with confusion.

“If someone comes looking for me, just tell them I’m dead.”

"If it were my parents, and they were sad... I would tell them that I would be resurrected on time before school tomorrow." He dug a perfect grave for himself.

It is two meters long, one meter wide, and one and a half meters deep.

Faced with the relentless pursuit of the Goddess of Creation and the bizarre behavior of the Creator God, Ian became a true ostrich, throwing a Simmons mattress down into the pit before lying down himself.

He wove the unearthed zombies into a giant "corpse blanket" like yarn.

"The blanket needs to be thick... It's getting colder tonight." He wove his own blanket from the undead, then prepared to sleep until God and the Goddess of Creation reconciled.

Ian Kent

[Cause of death: He died of anger because he missed today's KFC Crazy Thursday.]

[Resurrection CD: To be determined]

The detail-oriented Ian even made himself a tombstone, and then ordered his demon butler and demon maid to bury him eighteen meters or more underground.

He was pinning his hopes on the magic that sealed away the great darkness, hoping it could conceal his underground activities and prevent the Goddess of Creation from discovering them.

"Huhuhu~"

The demon maids are busy.

Hannibal, Baal, and the King of Lies floated on the edge of the pit, falling into an eerie silence. Even Baal, the demonic head, who wanted to offer a few words of flattery, found that his skills were still no match for Ian's.

Yes, Ian's level of understanding has surpassed that of demons.

"Perfect."

Ian hid in the mud, preparing to wait until the time came to travel through the Marvel Universe—however, things didn't go as planned, and outside the manor, Clark Kent, who had returned from Africa, slowly descended from the sky.

The red cloak fluttered in the wind.

He immediately spotted the transparent breathing tube protruding from the grave, connected to the oxygen tank. As Superman landed at the grave, the demon maids were holding hands, wailing and crying according to Ian's script.

Clark, who had been watching Ian for 23 hours and 50 minutes out of 24, was naturally not fooled. He had personally witnessed Ian burying himself in the soil. Even now, he could hear Ian's heartbeat and the boy's muttered words: "Ian is not a coward; he will become spring mud to protect the flowers."

"Step aside."

Superman gritted his teeth, his voice colder than the Arctic temperature stored in the Lonely Fortress. The demon maids trembled and scrambled away from the set.

Superman stepped forward and pinched the breathing tube Ian had left behind, a decorative rainbow pony straw—however, he waited for ten minutes without hearing any movement from Ian.

There was no other way; Clark realized what was happening and was forced to dig Ian out of the grave with his bare hands. Ian didn't actually need to breathe underground; he just needed a decorative grave mound. When Superman finally pulled Ian out of the pit, he was sprawled out on a Simmons mattress, his face flushed, playing a video game.

He clearly didn't need to breathe at all.

"No!"

Ian's expression changed drastically upon regaining his sense of light.

Superman, expressionless, lifted him into the air by the back of the neck with one hand.

"Ruthless Superman! How come you're so skilled at digging up graves!" Ian, who had been dragged out, kicked his legs wildly, as if he had risen from the dead. After his plan failed, he could only transfer his toughness to his words.

"Clark, you've got the wrong person. I'm an avatar created by Ian. The real Ian has already escaped to another Namek. You'd better find a way to bring him back." This is how a person feels when they are truly terrified. Ian shouted defiantly, waving his hands as if trying to crawl back into the grave.

Facing the troubles of God's family.

He genuinely wanted to be an ostrich, living a life of quiet ostrich. However, Clark knew very well that problems always needed to be solved, and Ian was the only one capable of solving them.

It's no wonder that Superman's super brain was working at lightning speed; he was also uneasy about things mainly related to God—during his day at work in Africa, he kept wondering why God was playing a trick on him.

At last.

He realized this might be a warning. Back then, God instructed the archangel to entrust Ian to his care; who knows, maybe Ian was the product of God's infidelity!

Thinking about it this way, everything seems to make sense. The Creator Goddess wanting to sleep with Ian is definitely the best revenge against God! This weak Superman can only choose to keep quiet!

As for how to thwart the creator goddess's intentions, that's a matter for God to consider.

Clark, this weak Superman, dared not reveal the "truth" that probably few people knew. All he could do was give Ian a little hint.

"The goddess you mentioned is now your mother's friend, her new best friend." Clark's hint was originally intended for Ian to directly acknowledge her as his godmother or adoptive mother after he went up.

however.

The word "best friend" sounded like a threat to the sensible young man to Ian.

"I knew she was up to no good! It's Mom's best friend who's the most vicious!" Seeing that Clark seemed not to understand, Ian could only indignantly tell his father that he should pay more attention to social news.

"You admit you're Ian?"

Clark always managed to find loopholes in Ian's thinking, leaving Ian frozen in place. He was pulled away by Clark and gradually flew away, while the three onlookers in the Devil's Manor remained floating in place.

Baal's head, the King of Lies, and Dr. Hannibal were all dumbfounded, watching Ian, who was kicking his legs in mid-air like an octopus, gradually disappear into the distance.

"What's going on?"

Hannibal was still a bit confused. Because the biofield automatically activated when Superman wore his underwear on the outside, he didn't know that the Superman who kidnapped Ian was his friend Clark Kent.

"The invincible god Ian has been captured again by his even more invincible father."

The head of the old demon Baal, a member of the Ian Cult, sighed softly.

Why did you use the word "again"?

The King of Lies turned his head in surprise.

“You’ll get used to it. This is traditional Kryptonian family education, and it happens an average of 1.8 times a week. You just need to remember that in these situations, all we can do is play dead…” Baal the demon began to impart his life tips, recounting one strange rule after another about the Ian family.

"Rule 1: Do not take sides during the Kent family civil war; Rule 2: Never help Ian curse his parents; Rule 3" The rules that the demon Baal spoke of were all experiences he had summarized with blood and tears.

The King of Lies and Dr. Hannibal Lecter nodded repeatedly in agreement.

Benefited a lot.

.........

The night was as dark as ink, and the Milky Way hung low.

Ian was lifted by Superman with one hand, like a chick caught by an eagle, tearing through the atmosphere and plummeting rapidly. The wind whistled in his ears. He wanted to continue his stubbornness, saying that he was a double, an illusion, a quantum doppelganger... but seeing Clark's increasingly African-looking face, he wisely shut his mouth in the end.

When Ian was lifted by the back of his collar and landed on the Kent family's brand-new lawn, he was still in the ostrich-like position of burying himself in the sand, and looked as dejected as a frostbitten eggplant.

“Running away is not the solution, Ian.”

Clark gave Ian a long and earnest lecture.

"boom!"

Ian's feet finally touched the ground.

The familiar courtyard atmosphere rushed towards me. This was not a ruin, not a crumbling wall, but a complete, brand-new Kent House, even more magnificent than I remembered.

It wasn't much different from the house before the first bombing. White walls and red tiles, as if it had never been destroyed. However, the restored house looked much newer than before—even though it was in the human world, wearing a restricted-version body, Lucifer's power could still exert a rewriting effect on reality.

"Since you say that, Dad, why do I feel like your legs are also too afraid to step into our yard?" Ian looked down at Clark's legs, which seemed rooted to the spot. After hearing Ian's explanation, Clark was also hesitant to go in. Fortunately, his super hearing saved him at that moment.

“Something’s happened in the military region your grandfather is in charge of. You’ll have to deal with this on your own for now.” Clark stood behind Ian, arms crossed, brows slightly furrowed.

His gaze fell on the brightly lit living room window. Louise climbed out of the window and rushed into Clark's arms, urging him to hurry up.

“Clark!” Louise Lane burst out of the oak door, her chestnut curls bursting like a startled bird’s nest. Her movement as she threw herself into her husband’s arms was suspiciously exaggerated.

"Fly! Fly! Clark!"

Louise's voice had the undulating quality of someone who'd drunk their eighth bottle of red wine that day. Clark, speaking, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, as if the collar had suddenly tightened a little.

He was about to take off.

Ian grabbed his belt and pulled it off.

Superman skillfully discarded his belt, demonstrating the composure and decisiveness of the older generation of heroes.

"No, Dad, you're going to help with the disaster relief, why did you take Mom with you?" Ian saw Louise in the yard jump into Clark's arms and then be lifted up by Clark.

“Because I have a dad too, so I need to take care of my dad, yes, that’s it… Ian, it’s time for you to stand up for yourself. Oh, by the way, your older brother is acting strange, be careful.” Louise showed her maternal love, then urged Clark to run quickly. Ian was left alone.

The lonely boy swallowed hard as he stared at his restored house.

That doesn't seem like home.

Instead, it was a gaping maw of an abyss that could devour him at any moment. Perhaps Mom didn't think it was particularly dangerous inside, but what did Mom and Dad know?

Lucifer's mother, she's a mortal, she's a truly absurd goddess. Approaching step by step, facing the house reshaped by Lucifer, Ian's throat tightened.

He took a deep breath and carefully pushed the door open.

The living room was brightly lit and filled with a fragrant aroma.

The dining table is set with tableware for five people, and the crystal chandelier casts a warm glow.

in the living room.

Jonathan, dressed in a bespoke suit, was elegantly pouring red tea for Charlotte Richards. The straight man who usually wore his T-shirt inside out was now exuding a gentlemanly aura in every gesture.

That's not his brother, that's God, dressed up as his brother.

Yes, the "big brother" before them was not human at all, but the supreme being who created countless universes and then destroyed them with his own hands. At this moment, he was using Jonathan's body to fawn over the Goddess of Creation, serving her tea and water, behaving in an unbelievably humble manner.

The old man's soul was still there, and very peacefully, as if he had only lent his body—God must have paid a fee for the skin, and Ian guessed it must have been for a considerable benefit.

“Miss Charlotte, you are radiant, like a rose in the morning light.” God spoke extravagant praise through Jonathan’s face, his tone as if reciting poetry.

"Oh my, you must be Ian's older brother! You're so good with words!" Charlotte laughed heartily, then stood up. "I'll go check on Ian's room."

"He must have been very cute as a child, right?"

Charlotte Richards said, then went straight upstairs. She didn't know if she genuinely couldn't recognize God in disguise, or if God was mentally twisted and enjoyed role-playing games.

Ian knows.

This seemingly ordinary dinner might be destined to become anything but ordinary. Meanwhile, within the system, the rebuilding of the Warhammer universe continues, but Ian still wants to check on his most useful accessory.

[Warhammer Universe Repair Progress: 15%]

God created the world in seven days; the system is currently spending seven days repairing the destroyed world.

There was no need for Ian to round up this progress. He hid behind his own doorpost and looked at his older brother Jonathan with a more assertive gaze.

Jonathan spotted Ian, but merely shrugged and followed Charlotte Richards upstairs, where he then discovered that Charlotte Richards was engaging in some kind of confusing maneuver.

"What are you doing?"

Jonathan was completely bewildered.

I saw.

Charlotte Richards was rolling around and rubbing against Ian's bedroom like crazy. When she looked up at Jonathan, she was still holding Ian's dinosaur toy from when he was a child.

"I just watched 'Animal World,' and those animals mark their territory with their body odor when courting." The goddess of creation, Charlotte Richards, was wearing a deep blue dress adorned with starlight today, and was currently engaging in a perplexing act, tucking Ian's long-overdue dinosaur toy under her arm.

She really knew very little about human affairs; she basically learned everything on the spot.

"Oh, right, Jonathan, what kind of pillow does Ian like when he sleeps? Does he have any preferences regarding the material and appearance of the fabric I'm wearing?" The Goddess of Creation lifted Ian's blankets, as if she were considering whether she could ambush Ian while hiding inside at night.

"..."

Jonathan's expression froze completely, his eyes practically spitting fire. He whirled around, his gaze piercing through the wall, landing squarely on the door downstairs—the spot where Ian was now standing, frozen in place. There was no way around it; Ian truly possessed superhuman hearing; he could even hear someone urinating dozens of kilometers away.

"I'm just a child!"

Ian's heart skipped a beat as he realized that the invincible spirit he had just built had shattered once again. He turned to run away, but the door remained unmoved, as if it had been welded shut.

"That's not fair!"

Ian slapped it hard.

Unlocking is ineffective.

The physical disassembly also failed.

It was as if some mysterious force had sealed him inside this small space. And just as Ian was panicking and desperately discovering that even the sewers were sealed off.

"Oh, by the way, Jonathan, did you know that thing in the kitchen called a gas stove can be moved to the bed? I heard that African weaver birds collect shiny things when they're courting."

"Oh, Mom, why is my new friend Louise taking so long to buy groceries? I'll go check at the door!" Charlotte upstairs started yelling.

The woman was on the stairs leading to the corridor. Ian was terrified and almost jumped onto the ceiling. As he looked around, the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs could be heard.

The super brain is operating at breakneck speed.

The living room sofa seemed to have become the last refuge.

"There it is!"

Ian slid in, thinking there was enough space to hide him, but his sliding foot seemed to have kicked something soft.

Ian looked closely.

Smoke immediately billowed from all seven orifices!

"Damn it! Ian! There's someone here!" Lucifer pulled out a handkerchief, wiped his face, and then furtively raised his camera.

Perhaps Ian's brain is already a god-level brain, and it has chosen a hiding place that even the second greatest god in the universe would choose. However, Ian is not happy about realizing this yet.

"You... how did you get here!" Ian looked at Lucifer's curled-up, twisted posture and quickly distanced himself from Lucifer, hiding on the right side of the sofa.

"Gather evidence!"

Lucifer's eyes lit up. "I'm going to film God pretending to be human! Look at his hypocritical face! He was actually the first person in the world to lie!"

He was still Lucifer, who hated God to the core.

"..."

Ian remained silent. He listened to Lucifer's rambling on, revealing God's "sins," while in the living room, "Jonathan" was still forcing a smile as he served food to the Goddess of Creation.

How could God not know what was hidden under the sofa?

But what could he do?

He could only distract himself by picking up food and praising his ex-wife. However, Charlotte kept glancing at the stairs, seemingly wanting to go up and "mark" them again. "I've prepared three trillion wedding dresses; I can play with Ian until the universe heats up..." The Goddess of Creation was still bragging to God's face; God's forced smile probably wouldn't last much longer.

"???????"

Ian curled up under the sofa, huddled together with Lucifer, listening to the absurd conversation above him, and smelling the mixture of dust and the expensive cologne on Lucifer's teeth-gritting body.

He suddenly realized.

"No, Lucifer, your mother wants to sleep with me, how can you still be here taking pictures? Mr. Dark Web, right?" Ian's feelings were extremely complicated at this moment.

He finally understood that mental illness was also something created by God's family. Outside, the creator of the old farm was still working hard.

"Charlotte, what kind of music do you like to listen to?" The hacked "Jonathan" gave a perfect, almost fake smile, tapping his fingers lightly on the table as he asked the obvious question.

Classical music? Jazz? Or...?

Charlotte Richards, who was bending over the liquor cabinet rummaging through glasses, answered without turning her head, "I like the sound of my heart racing—like the sound of little Ian being chased by me—"

She seemed to talk about Ian constantly, which made Ian increasingly terrified.

And at this time.

boom--! ! !
A deafening explosion suddenly came from outside.

The earth trembled violently, glass rattled, and even the foundations groaned. It was no ordinary bomb, but a devastating energy burst capable of tearing apart continents and evaporating oceans.

of course.

It has only just begun to erupt.

Just as the explosion's epicenter was about to spread, "Jonathan"—no, God in Jonathan's body—frowned slightly and looked out the window.

While Charlotte Richards wasn't looking, he quietly raised his right hand under the table and gently pressed it towards the window—no light, no sound, no shockwave.

The explosion, powerful enough to destroy an entire planet, was like a flame caught in the grasp of an invisible giant hand, suddenly collapsing inward, turning into a twisted mass of darkness, and then vanishing into nothingness, as if it had never happened.

Everything returned to calm.

"what happened?"

Charlotte finally straightened up, holding two wine glasses in her hands, looking completely bewildered.

"nothing,"

The God-like Jonathan calmly adjusted his cuffs.

"It's probably the neighbor's kid playing with firecrackers."

He made a casual joke.

Perhaps only Ian was staring wide-eyed in the entire house.

"What was that just now?!" Ian, feeling the terrifying cosmic-level energy fluctuations, was so frightened he almost bit his tongue. He lowered his voice and asked Lucifer.

The all-knowing Lucifer did not turn around and continued his "Mom and Dad's Spying Record".

"Someone is trying to steal Genesis."

"Hmm, it's that old man's inspiration recording device from when he was a writer. It's not important. Do you think the love potion I'll add to the food later will work?"

“I think it should be useful. They’ve all bound themselves to mortal bodies, which is their biggest weakness.” Lucifer asked himself, continuing to indulge in taking photos.

Few people know this.

In the eyes of any parent.

He's an even bigger brat than Ian.

“Oh, right, the following scene is not suitable for children, you can’t watch it.” Lucifer said, and then wiped Ian’s eyelids, and a black eye patch appeared on Ian’s face.

"??????"

Ian stared at the blindfold.

My mind goes blank.

"Have you forgotten that I have ears?"

After reminding Lucifer, Ian felt a little regretful.

At this moment, Ian, who felt he should be sitting on the sofa watching TV instead of colluding with Lucifer under the sofa, really wanted to immigrate to Marvel with his whole family.

In the living room, Jonathan was still gently pouring Charlotte a drink, but his eyes, through the window, swept meaningfully over the erased explosion ruins on the outskirts of a certain city.

He knew that someone was coveting Genesis, and that Genesis had been out for a long time.

but.

The Lord doesn't care.

……

The night wind howled, and the Milky Way stretched like a ribbon.

Superman Clark Kent, carrying Lois Kent, streaked across the sky like a crimson meteor, with his brightly lit home behind him, a place rife with undercurrents of tension.

The night wind tousled his wife Louise's blonde hair. Louise looked up at her husband's taut jawline, the dizziness from the alcohol subsiding slightly.

"Is Ian really alright?"

she asked softly.

Unconsciously, his fingers tightened around Superman's neck.

“God will protect him.” Clark’s gaze remained fixed on the distance, his pupils slightly contracting as he adjusted his focus. He thought of his earlier terrifying speculation, but dared not share it with his wife.

“So… the one occupying Jonathan’s body is God, right?” Louise’s drunkenness subsided, her voice trembling slightly. “What if he and Ian fight…? Ian may be a bit unruly, but he is still our child… and besides, Ian didn’t do anything wrong in this matter.”

"Even if Ian really did accidentally offend that goddess, it must be God's doing behind the scenes. Aren't all the coincidences in the world his carefully arranged plans?"

Louise's attitude clearly favored Ian, and what she said was not without reason.

Upon hearing this, Clark's heart tightened. He knew all too well what was going on. Ian, though eccentric and unconventional, still possessed a human warmth in his eyes. God, the supreme being, acted solely on will, without any ulterior motive. If a conflict were to erupt, Ian would likely be reduced to ashes.

of course.

If that conjecture is true, Ian is indeed safer than anyone else.

"Do not worry."

Clark spoke in a low voice.

His voice betrayed a barely perceptible hint of guilt: "I've been keeping an eye on that area. If anything gets out of control, I'll rush over immediately."

no way.

He himself knew that his words lacked any real conviction.

Before the Creator, his superhuman strength, superhuman hearing, and superhuman heat vision were probably nothing more than a tickle. He had shattered an asteroid with a single punch, but God could reduce the entire universe to nothingness with a single thought. Thinking of this, his voice gradually faded, and his red cloak fluttered in the air.

Louise knew her husband all too well—how much powerlessness lay hidden behind that "first moment." When the opponent is the Creator, what can even a body of steel change? She sighed inwardly, simply leaning back against that broad chest.

Listen to the beating of two hearts inside.

"I believe you."

Louise spoke softly as always.

"Ah."

Clark nodded firmly.

He knew full well that his fighting prowess was probably of little significance in the face of the Creator.

If God doesn't protect Ian.

Then it must be him who will bless Ian.

This is not a multiple-choice question.

“However, I still hope they can have a good outcome.” Clark felt that his previous guess was very likely, which was why he chose to leave his house to Ian and God.

At that moment, his wife's trust in his choice acted like a warm current, dispelling some of the chill. Clark took a deep breath, adjusted his direction, and sped towards the military district.

When they landed in front of Sam Lane's command post.

The scene before me was breathtaking.

Once a major military stronghold, it is now a ruin. Twisted steel bars, shattered concrete, and the air is thick with the stench of ozone mixed with rotting flesh. Soldiers scurry like ants through the rubble, clearing away the remains left by the monster—broken claws, congealed acid, and unrecognizable alien tissue.

The destroyed military base resembled a cake gnawed on by a giant beast. As Superman landed on the scorched earth, Sam Lane was standing atop a wrecked tank, directing the rescue efforts.

"Damn it, are those 160,000 entrenching tools really that cheap? Our military high command only got 100,000 in kickbacks! Shouldn't the remaining 60,000 have been poured into alloy manufacturing?"

The old general's white hair, under the searchlight, resembled a cold, ethereal flame illuminating America. Upon seeing Superman appear, he too discarded his broken entrenching tool and jumped off the tank.

"You came."

Sam Lane's military boots crushed a piece of cement covered in slime. He glanced at his daughter, who was wearing a mask, before looking seriously at Superman.

"What's with those monsters appearing and disappearing? At first, I thought you were experimenting with holographic projection technology," Clark said, recounting his earlier observations.

This is why he wasn't in such a hurry to arrive at the scene. After all, disasters can happen in an instant, disappearing without a trace in the blink of an eye.

“We don’t know the specifics either. After the lab over there went out of control, I thought the world was going to end. I was just about to call you when I saw a burst of light absorbing those out-of-control dangerous substances.” Sam Lane took out an encrypted USB drive from his pocket, inserted it into his laptop terminal, and pulled up a surveillance video.

"The surveillance footage showed a woman sitting on that chair, but no one saw her. It's as if the footage just appeared out of nowhere."

Sam Lane handed the notebook to Clark and Louise.

Top-secret information has once again fallen into the hands of ordinary people.

In the surveillance footage, a woman wearing a white veil sits quietly under an oak tree amidst the ruins. She wears a floor-length dress and shimmers like an unreal figure stepping out of a painting.

She only stood up as if she had been waiting for this moment, when the out-of-control monsters from before the lab appeared. As the aliens, mummies, and some kind of luminous entity swarmed out of the lab, she simply stood up, raised the blurry object in her hand—and all the monsters vanished as if swallowed by a black hole.

Before the monsters could even get close, they were sucked into the light like grains of sand, without even having time to scream. Then, she closed her umbrella and turned to walk out of the ruins.

Her steps were light, as if she were just taking a stroll.

"This surveillance footage... was only discovered afterward."

Sam Lane's voice was strained.

"None of us saw her! Not even the sentries noticed!"

"Moreover... the file for this video was created some time after the disaster occurred, yet it happened to record events that occurred before the disaster."

Sam Lane's tone carried a hint of horror. It was indeed somewhat eerie; someone who shouldn't exist had appeared on surveillance footage that shouldn't exist.

Anyone who came here would feel a chill down their spine.

"The surveillance footage appeared after the disaster? That person wanted you to see this footage." Superman's pupils dilated slightly, and he frowned, watching the surveillance footage several times.

Chaos reigned in the military region; monsters roamed freely, and flames soared into the sky. Soldiers scattered and fled. But beneath a withered tree, the woman had been sitting quietly for a long time before the disaster struck.

She wore a pure white dress and a white veil, holding a long black umbrella, as if she had nothing to do with the disaster and just happened to be passing by and sitting there waiting for something.

"This woman is quite beautiful."

Louise, still a little tipsy, praised the mysterious man's physique and demeanor.

“She’s looking for something… but she hasn’t found it…” Superman’s super brain was working at lightning speed. He had already realized that the other party’s move was not an immediate action.

Instead, amidst the chaos of all the monsters appearing, the woman still couldn't find what she was looking for. Finally, she raised her hand and used something mysterious to collect all the monsters. Then, in a flickering scene, the woman left, her figure disappearing into the jungle like a ghost.

"Can you find her?"

Sam Lane made the inquiry out of desperation, mainly because the items stored in that laboratory were valuable assets of the US military, and if they couldn't be recovered, it wouldn't just be a matter of whether he would be held responsible or not. No one understood the treacherous nature of those things better than Sam Lane; the deaths of some people were merely a stroke of good fortune.

No one could figure out what the mysterious woman's purpose was in taking the experimental subjects away.

"I try my best."

Clark didn't give a definite answer. He looked around and activated his super vision. His vision instantly pierced through a thousand meters of dust, scanning every inch of land, every piece of rubble, every shadow. This cheat-like hearing extended for hundreds of miles, sweeping across wilderness, rivers, and mountains.

The retina seems to be able to radiate outwards.

They are found in every corner of the earth.

Like an invisible net, Superman's vision covers most of the Earth.

“Not in America, not in North America… I’ve found you!” Clark’s gaze pierced through layers of buildings, across deserts and oceans, finally locking onto the banks of the Nile—a veiled woman was holding out her palm, a chaotic light swirling in her hand. A bald man knelt on one knee, his lips moving as if reciting a vow.

See this scene.

Clark was about to activate his super hearing to listen to the woman's thoughts and determine whether she was friend or foe. However, at that very moment, the veiled woman seemed to sense being watched.

She suddenly turned her head.

Time seemed to freeze.

It's not looking in a certain direction of the wasteland, nor is it gazing at the sky.

Instead, she looked directly into Clark's eyes. Even though they were thousands of miles apart, even though Clark was in the metropolis of America, the Egyptian woman's gaze remained precisely fixed on Clark.

In Superman's pupils.

Her face was reflected in the mirror.

Beneath the veil were a pair of golden pupils—not the eyes of a normal superhuman. Clark seemed to sense a vastness in the other's eyes, as if it were history and time itself.

Clark's pupils reflected those golden eyes, as if gazing upon a ceaselessly flowing river of time. His superhuman senses captured countless overlapping images in that instant—the colossal stones of civilization being erected by an invisible hand, stars being born and annihilated in the void, and the rise and fall of countless lives flowing like a revolving lantern.

Just as his biological intuition began to issue a sharp warning.

The veiled woman suddenly tilted her head.

Subsequently.

Clark felt dizzy.

The ground beneath his feet vanished abruptly, and the military base, Louise, and Sam Lane before him all disappeared without a trace, like pencil drawings erased by an eraser. In their place was an endless, grayish-white mist that swirled around him like a living thing, which even heat vision could not dispel in the slightest.

"I can sense that you have no ill intentions. Who are you?" Superman floated in the mist of this ocean of consciousness, his body radiating a sun-like light, but it could only illuminate a small area around him.

"where is this place?"

He asked the question aloud.

From the depths of the mist came the rustling sound of silk rubbing together.

The white figure appeared and disappeared intermittently.

The sound was like an echo seeping out from the cracks of time.

"I am the last note in a forgotten lullaby."

Upon hearing this, as if a breeze had swept by, Clark whirled around and found the voice coming from behind him. A pale hand reached out from the mist, its fingertips brushing against his cloak.

"I am the embers burning on the edge of history books."

Another sound came from above.

Superman looked up and saw the hem of the veil cascading down like an inverted waterfall.

"Of course, I am also an echo that emerged from the little boy's dream... and will accompany you to the very end, Time Lord." This time, the voice was close to his ear.

Clark's super speed allowed him to instantly shift ten meters to the side, but he still couldn't create any distance—the veiled woman was standing right in front of his nose, her breathing very calm.

"You can call me..."

She raised her hand.

A swirling, ever-changing light gathered at the fingertips.

"paradox."

The finger gently tapped Clark's forehead.

At the moment of contact.

Superman saw his memories flood back like film reels—the wheat fields of Kansas were growing backward, and the Lonely Fortress was receding into the distance towards the stars.

Even the flames from Krypton's explosion were receding back into its core.

"Wait--"

Clark fell backward.

He fell into a collapsing starry sky. The last scene he saw was the woman who called herself Paradox, her lips slightly upturned as she withdrew her finger, her face barely visible beneath her veil.

The curve was exactly the same as Ian's smile when he succeeded in his prank.

(End of this chapter)