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

Chapter 193 Interview and Angelic Hymn

Bruce Wayne's wallet will never cry.

But Gotham's richest man is genuinely good at yelling.

of course.

Batman knew that Ian would actually report the child protection agency, so he wouldn't hit the child. He clenched his fists, and his pent-up frustration finally turned into a long, uncontrollable gasp in public.

"Huhuhu~"

The sounds of breathing rose and fell like nine dragons pulling a coffin. To vent his emotions, he simply sat in his wheelchair and slammed his fist into the raised ground beside him.

"boom!!"

The force was controlled with extreme precision, without affecting anyone, but it was enough to completely shatter the already cracked ground, sending debris flying and leaving a clear, deep fist mark.

The wheelchair even slid back slightly by half an inch due to the reaction force.

Silent anger is often the most terrifying.

However, Wonder Woman's eyes lit up as she watched from the side. She subconsciously nudged Clark next to her with her elbow and whispered excitedly in a voice that only the two of them could hear.

"Fight, fight, fight."

The Amazonian princess, who has lived for many, many years, is ultimately an old woman, and the excitement she enjoys deep down seems no different from that of ordinary Earth women.

She's stirring up trouble.

"Uh, well." Clark felt a chill run down his spine upon seeing this, and immediately stepped forward, standing between Ian and Batman, and began to give Ian a lecture on fatherly love in the most natural tone possible.

"Ian! Shouldn't you be going to school? Don't you have that... very important exam today?" He tried to find an excuse to get rid of this little devil, lest the richest man in Gotham and the financial backer of the Justice League be so angry that he had a stroke. The way he kept winking and making stern faces at Ian showed how strong his muscle control was.

"Oh! That's right!"

Upon hearing this, Ian actually looked down at the watch on his wrist that was being used to apply medicine.

"Although I am already an indispensable core member, strategic advisor and chief expert on outer space issues in the Justice League, I have to have both social status and academic qualifications, and I have to be good at both!"

This is what makes someone with a strong heart. Even with so many titles and top-tier strength on Earth, Ian still doesn't forget his original aspirations and doesn't betray his initial profession.

"After all, in our world, no education is equivalent to no future, which is common sense that even Darkseid knows. I'll be going now, and I'll leave the affairs of the League to you for the time being. If you have any problems that you can't solve, remember to call me. Uncle Batman is always happy to rescue any of Batman's friends."

As he spoke, he completely ignored the complicated looks on everyone's faces, and with a flash, he flew away like a rocket, leaving a twisted contrail in the air.

They run really fast.

Ian mainly noticed his father's fist was clenched tightly, almost raised in anger. He knew this was called being a "good son" only when needed.

"Sigh!" Clark looked in the direction his son had disappeared, and for the first time, he didn't instinctively refute Ian's boast that he was an "indispensable member of the Justice League."

His main concern was that if he responded, Ian would find another reason to stay and continue to exploit Batman, whose mental state was already teetering on the brink of danger.

“Although I’ve always felt that your youngest son might have a bit of a mental... well, something special.” Wonder Woman stepped forward, looking in the direction Ian had disappeared, her tone tinged with complex emotions.

She paused, then added, with a hint of relief, "However, at least he's focusing his firepower on torturing Bruce right now. Based on that, I'm willing to assume he's not sick for the time being."

That's why she's called a woman.

This line of thinking is rather peculiar.

"Diana, please, stop making things worse!" Clark clutched his forehead in anguish. He was actually used to it; there weren't many superheroes in the Justice League with absolutely normal minds.

“I’m actually serious.” Wonder Woman shrugged nonchalantly, her gaze shifting to Batman, whose face was as black as the bottom of a pot. Her tone became somewhat incredulous. “I’ve been shocked for a long time that Bruce still hasn’t figured out a way to capture Ian and lock him up in Arkham.”

At that moment, a faint but clear voice came from the side.

Unjust Superman, who was firmly locked in Kryptonite handcuffs and leaning against the broken wall, raised his hand with difficulty, and whispered in agreement with a weak expression of deep empathy on his face.

"I agree with that idea." If there was anyone present who thought Ian should go to Arkham the most, it would undoubtedly be Unjust Superman, who had been blessed with twelve treasures by Ian.

He agreed with this, and even Clark couldn't find any grounds to refute it.

"Hey!"

Clark felt the ruins beneath his feet were burning hot, so embarrassed he could have dug another Metropolis out with his toes. Just then, Batman, maneuvering his wheelchair with a soft motor hum, slowly approached the cage holding the grinning Black Adam. His mask concealed all his expressions, but his voice was unexpectedly calm.

It even carried a... very eerie calmness?

“To be honest, I’ve always been more at ease with Ian Kent,” Batman said, his voice coming through his mask, revealing no emotion.

He paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully, then added, "—except for his mouth." Upon hearing this, everyone present, except for Black Adam who was still grinning foolishly, was stunned.

Wonder Woman gasped sharply, patted Clark's arm in disbelief, and began chirping at Batman in a low, urgent voice.

"Clark! Did the fight just now affect my hearing?"

"He said he's very confident? Batman is very confident in someone? And he's specifically saying he's confident in Ian Kent?! Is he lying to us, or has he finally gone mad with anger?!"

The more she talked, the more horrified she became.

"Shouldn't we open the Bruce Wayne Emergency Treatment and Behavioral Correction Center on Kepler 186f, which we secretly discussed building for him ahead of schedule?!"

The name of the institution sounds nice, but no one in the room is stupid; everyone knows it's a preparatory confinement facility or mental hospital built for Batman.

Kepler-186f is an exoplanet orbiting the red dwarf star Kepler-186.

It is about 492 light-years away from Earth.

This planet is the first exoplanet with a radius similar to Earth's within the habitable zone of a star outside our solar system, and it has been verified by Clark as a potentially habitable planet.

of course.

No one would believe it if you said that the Flash, who was still "late," didn't help. Upon hearing this, Clark's embarrassment instantly turned into a hint of guilt.

He quickly lowered his voice.

"What Kepler 186f? I don't know! I've never been involved in any alien mental hospital project! Diana, don't talk nonsense!" Clark thought Wonder Woman was the one who had been driven mad by the shock.

Batman's wheelchair silently spun around, and the white goggles precisely "looked" at Clark. Although he couldn't see the expression, Clark could feel that gaze seemingly piercing through his steel body.

"hehe."

Beneath the mask came two extremely brief, emotionless, and dry "heh" laughs. Clearly, Batman had known all along that the other Justice League members were plotting against him.

Moreover, they even knew the location and general nature of the place very well.

Trying to pull something in front of him, especially something involving his "health," is simply like showing off one's limited skills before an expert.

Clark's face instantly turned as red as a tomato.

However, Batman did not pursue the issue of the mental hospital further, since his plan was far more malicious than others', so he steered the conversation back to the original topic.

His tone remained eerily calm.

"In terms of reliability, I actually think that Ian is more reliable than Clark, or even you, Diana, most of the time."

Batman spoke in a serious tone. Wonder Woman was completely stunned. She looked at Batman with pity and certainty in her eyes, as if to say, "This guy has finally gone mad."

Is Ian Kent reliable?
Done!

Batman is probably already dead. The current Batman is just an alter ego of Ian Kent, who, like Ares, could conjure up anyone at will.

Wonder Woman's Ares paranoia was showing signs of relapse after many years. Just then, the distinctive deep engine sound of the Batmobile could be heard in the distance. Headlights pierced through the dust, and a massive armored vehicle approached like a black behemoth, ready to transport away the cage holding Black Adam.

It was clearly a drone summoned by Bruce Wayne. The headlights swept across Batman's face, illuminating the jawline hidden in shadow.

At that moment, his expression, caught between light and shadow, was somewhat indescribable—a mixture of extreme helplessness, chronic headaches, and some extremely rare, deeply hidden emotion.

Batman did not respond further.

Instead, they began loading the cages.

Inner emotions.

Perhaps only Clark, who possesses the ability to read minds, could perceive it to some extent.

He could disbelieve Clark's overly idealistic kindness, Wonder Woman's loyalty to humanity, or even the omniscient and omnipotent God that everyone in the world loves.

But—Bruce Wayne trusted his parents.

If Thomas and Martha Wayne both felt that he was an "ideal" kid, then Bruce Wayne was willing, of course, to try to believe it.

after all.

Those were his father and mother. Even if this trust required him to maintain it with countless bank cards and blood pressure medication, Mr. Wayne had never lacked money or medicine in his life.

Accompanied by Batman's manipulation.

The Batmobile spewed out a stream of eerie blue plasma from its rear.

The heavy vehicle rumbled softly as it steadily lifted into the air. The specially made cage holding Black Adam, who sometimes giggled and sometimes looked lost, was securely fastened to the transport rack at the rear of the vehicle. Batman sat in his wheelchair, a magnetic device extending from its bottom, perfectly engaging with the top of the vehicle.

He glanced one last time at Clark and Wonder Woman on the ground, offering no further words, only a cold, almost forced, remark.

"Time to go back and make some 'preparations'." The words had barely left his lips when the Batmobile's engine suddenly increased in power, whistling through the air as it shot towards Gotham City like an arrow. This Batmobile flew faster than even the supposedly distorted specifications of the F-35, quickly becoming a tiny black dot before disappearing completely.

Clark and Wonder Woman exchanged a glance, both seeing a mixture of relief and complex emotions in each other's eyes.

“I’ll go check on Bruce. And while I’m at it, I’ll 'settle' this guy down.” Clark sighed, pointing to the Injustice Superman beside him, restrained by Kryptonite handcuffs, his eyes still somewhat vacant. He really didn’t feel comfortable letting Batman, whose mental state was clearly unstable, handle Black Adam, this hot potato, alone.

Especially considering the potential "aftereffects" left by Ian. Upon hearing this, Wonder Woman nodded, tossed her slightly disheveled long hair, straightened her back, and regained the majesty of an Amazonian princess: "Go ahead, leave this to me. Someone has to stay behind to clean up the messes of these always 'punctual' New York police officers."

She also loves to make fun of the New York police.

Clark said no more, picked up Injustice Superman, and transformed into a blurry red and blue figure, chasing after Gotham.

“I told you they were on time.” Above the ruins, only Wonder Woman Diana remained, along with the New York police who were cautiously approaching, trying to control the scene and clear the debris.

Soon, like sharks smelling blood, media vans and reporters from various media outlets swarmed in. Cameras, microphones, and recording equipment instantly surrounded Wonder Woman.

"Wonder Woman! What caused this incident? Who is that burly man in the black suit?"

"Witnesses claim to have seen Superman and another person dressed similarly but in a darker color. Is this true? Are they friend or foe?"

"The Justice League is once again engaged in a massive battle with an unknown enemy in New York, causing such devastation. What are your thoughts on this? Will the League bear any responsibility for compensation?"

"Why did Batman leave in such a hurry? Has another emergency occurred in Gotham?"

The questions came at us like a barrage of bullets.

Diana maintained a composed smile, her presence commanding despite her damaged armor and wounds. She skillfully employed diplomatic language and linguistic artistry honed over millennia to answer:

"This incident involves a powerful individual from ancient times whose power was once out of control, but it has now been brought under control. The Justice League remains committed to protecting Earth from any threat. Regarding compensation, a specialist will follow up with the city government... Batman has other urgent matters to attend to."

Her answer was both official and vague, demonstrating the alliance's responsibility while cleverly avoiding all core secrets.

Her facial expressions were impeccable; it was as if she wasn't the one who had been watching the drama unfold and muttering "Let's fight!"—that's what you call handling diplomatic matters with ease.

Well, Wonder Woman is an independent woman, an immigrant, a member of a minority group, and even has a lesbian aura. She is indeed very suitable to be the spokesperson for the Justice League.

They won't be made to make things too difficult.

of course.

It's not that there aren't media outlets that aren't afraid of these buffs.

"Wonder Woman! Our station just received an anonymous submission, complete with high-resolution photos purportedly taken by satellite! The submitter claims that yet another unnamed 'hero of justice' intervened at a crucial moment today, saving the Justice League from a tough battle?"

"Is this true? Who exactly is this mysterious guardian?" he asked, pointing the tablet screen at Diana. The screen displayed several high-resolution photos—the most intense moments of the battle: one showing Green Lantern, who had finished his business and left, being struck by Black Adam's black lightning and falling from the sky, smoking; another showing Wonder Woman's Lasso of Truth being forcibly removed.

She herself looked disheveled as she was thrown away by the shockwave.

Of course, Batman is also included. In the photo, Batman's wheelchair is overturned by some force, and he is seen awkwardly trying to steady himself.

There's even an image of Aquaman being punched and sent flying, crashing into a pile of reinforced concrete. Each photo is taken from a tricky angle, perfectly capturing the most embarrassing and awkward moments of the Alliance members, yet they are all incredibly clear—definitely the work of a highly advanced military satellite.

Moreover, the photographer is very skilled at taking pictures.

Even AI-generated images would struggle to capture this realistic sense of disarray. To put it another way, Wonder Woman might not know that Ian's black box is indeed incredibly versatile.

"???????"

Diana's perfect smile froze instantly.

Her lips twitched slightly.

The Amazon princess felt a surge of blood rush to her head, and her millennia of cultivation almost crumbled at that moment.

She desperately wanted to pull out her Lasso of Truth and drag that anonymous, self-proclaimed "messenger of justice" bastard out and beat him to a pulp! Of course, this was just a fleeting thought. Diana remembered the last time she tried to beat that bastard, her magical artifact was defiled—a truly shameful act.

"These...these photos??"

Diana's voice faltered for the first time as she tried to remain calm, but her teeth chattered. "The source of these photos is highly suspicious! They have most likely been maliciously altered!"

However, the reporter was clearly prepared and immediately retorted: "But we have already had three top digital authentication experts conduct a preliminary remote verification, and these photos show no signs of Photoshop manipulation! They are the original satellite data! The anonymous contributor also said that if the alliance needs them, he can provide more 'wonderful' moments."

The phrase "wonderful moment" was like the last straw that broke the camel's back.

Diana Prince, the princess of the Amazons, daughter of Zeus, a founding member of the Justice League, and a long-lived demigod, completely failed at managing her facial expressions.

Her beautiful face flushed red and then turned pale, and fine blue veins even appeared on her forehead—the sacred blue veins of the Amazon. Her eyes, which could have looked directly at Medusa, were now filled with shame and anger.

"That...anonymous...one..."

The final word, "bastard," was ultimately kept from her lips by the remaining shred of reason.

But her expression, as if she wanted to crawl through the internet cable to kill someone, was precisely captured by all the cameras around her and broadcast live to thousands of households.

the next day.

The latest headline on the front page of The Daily Planet will likely be: "Shocking! Ancient war god resurrected to rule the world, mysterious anonymous figure reappears to turn the tide?"

Of course, it could also be titled "Wonder Woman's Outburst of Wrath, and the Heartwarming Reason Behind It!" In any case, Ian, who provided the news, certainly captured an art form no less impressive than Trump raising his fist in the assassination attempt.

People have grown tired of seeing superheroes in their glory. However, who knows how many young people would pay a dollar for the copyright to download their embarrassing moments and use them as wallpapers?

That's what business geniuses are like; they never miss an opportunity to make money.

A little makes a lot, and sand makes a tower.

In contrast to Wonder Woman.

Actually, neither Clark nor Bruce Wayne were in much better spirits.

Deep within one of Bruce Wayne's backup Batcaves, the air is thick with the smells of disinfectant, engine oil, and various potions being boiled. This is perhaps where Batman frequently uses the "medicinal bath" method to ingest enhancement and repair drugs through his skin. Batman is taking care of the mentally sensitive Injustice Superman, while Clark is in charge of imprisoning Black Adam.

The lower levels of the Batcave contained specially constructed cells for imprisoning extraordinary individuals. Inside, Black Adam sat on a cold metal bed, bound by a unique energy field. The abstract journey of consciousness and Ian's "treatment" seemed to have drained most of his energy, but the arrogance and ferocity of the ancient king had not been completely eliminated.

Seeing Clark remove his shackles, he suddenly raised his head, his dark pupils burning with resentment.

"That's not fair, Superman."

Black Adam's voice was hoarse, yet laced with provocation, "You didn't truly defeat me! It was that kid... who used some evil means to steal my power!"

"You haven't truly faced me yet. If you have the guts, let me go, and we'll have a fair one-on-one fight!" He had clearly done his research on the basics of this world before stirring up trouble.

Clark, who was about to leave, stopped and stood outside the transparent energy wall of the cell. He didn't speak, but simply turned his head slightly, revealing his blue eyes that always held a sense of sunshine and gentleness.

At this moment, Superman's eyes had subtly changed—deep within his pupils, a dazzling, molten gold-like color began to spread.

Within it flickered a dangerous crimson hue. He didn't release any energy, nor did he deliberately glare; it was merely this subtle change in color, and the accompanying intangible yet soul-shaking sense of absolute power, that pierced through the energy wall and pressed down on Black Adam's heart as if it were a tangible substance.

It was terrifying; it was a sense of oppression that transcended the physical realm and went straight to the origin of life, as if the weight of the entire universe would collapse down on us in the next second.

"what???"

All of Black Adam's provocative words caught in his throat.

He felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his heart, and his breath caught in his throat. His ancient instincts screamed a warning that the alien before him was terrifying.

Black Adam's brain is spinning.

next moment.

He shrank his neck with great difficulty and slight movement, his momentum instantly weakened, his voice dropped several octaves, and even carried a hint of barely perceptible embarrassment.

“Okay, you misheard me. I meant… I… I want a pillow. The bed here is a bit hard.” Black Adam demonstrated his lightning-fast kneeling ability.

Normally, he's the kind of person who would fight to the death, but the current situation is clearly unusual. Black Adam doesn't want to be a hapless guy who just recovered and then died again.

Forbearance.

Forbearance.

We still need to be patient.

Black Adam recalled the "Dragon King's Secret Technique" that appeared in several literary works he had absorbed while scanning and absorbing modern knowledge. He was more mature than the ambitious man he had been back then.

"it is good."

The golden-red hue in Clark's eyes quickly faded, returning to a deep blue.

He nodded, said nothing, and his figure blurred and disappeared from the spot. Less than half a second later, he reappeared, holding a soft-looking pillow with a bat logo.

"Don't play tricks."

Clark stuffed the pillow into the supply chute.

Black Adam took the pillow, hugged it to his chest, and looked at it with a complicated expression.

He watched as the terrifying Superman turned around, preparing to leave the cell area. After thinking for a moment, he suddenly stood up, leaned against the bars, and pressed his face against them.

“Wait! Listen to me! Your child, he’s horrible! He’s not what you think he is at all!” Black Adam’s face wore a strange expression that was a mixture of fear and urgency.

Clark paused for a moment, but did not turn around.

Black Adam, as if grasping at a straw, spoke rapidly: "He devoured it! He devoured the darkness that controlled me! It wasn't defeating, it was devouring! It was absorbing! I could feel it! Even that dark power capable of twisting the mind was afraid of him! It was being assimilated by him!"

"I can't even imagine what evil is hidden inside him! Keeping him around is like raising a tiger to cause trouble!" Black Adam shouted, still shaken.

Clark finally turned around slowly, his face showing no surprise or anger, but rather a complex expression that was hard to describe, like a great deal of helplessness.

"Are you talking about the kind of 'evil' like 'Dark Aunt Falls in Love with Me with a One-Armed Arm' or 'The Great Darkness Eavesdrops on My Heart's Voice, and the Light Woman Gets Furious'?"

He was referring to Ian's private essays written after he regained his courage.

Black Adam, of course, couldn't understand.

"??????" Black Adam was completely dumbfounded. Dark Aunt? A one-armed woman? A woman of light? What on earth is this?! What the hell is this Kryptonian talking about?!

He opened his mouth, wanting to continue babbling and trying to sow discord between the father and son—however, the next moment, Black Adam's mouth was sealed shut by the old father with the leftover tape.

Superman vanished again in an instant at super speed, only to reappear the next second, holding the roll of wide silver tape with the words "Emergency Seal" printed on it that he hadn't finished using to seal Ian's mouth.

"Ugh?! Ughhhhh!!!" Black Adam tried to back away in terror, but it was too late.

Clark's movements were as fast as lightning, even leaving a slight afterimage.

He ripped out a long piece of tape and precisely slapped it onto Black Adam's mouth, then frantically wrapped it around Black Adam's head at a dazzling speed!

One lap, two laps, ten laps, fifty laps... Finally, Clark tied a knot and even patted the huge, shiny silver end of the tape.

"!!!!!!"

Black Adam's entire head, except for his nose, was almost completely wrapped into an airtight silver mummy head, only able to emit extremely weak and desperate "ooh-ooh" sounds. Clark turned and left, leaving only Black Adam's powerless "ooh-ooh" sounds, muffled by duct tape, faintly echoing in the hum of the force field.

Clearly, Black Adam was a bit less skilled than Ian; he didn't know how to grow a new mouth on his stomach or arm.

Go up the steps.

Clark arrived at the core research lab on the next floor.

The room was filled with flashing screens and sophisticated instruments. Injustice Superman lay flat in the center of a massive device resembling a CT scanner, which was emitting a low, rumbling sound.

Batman sat at the control panel, his white-rimmed glasses fixed on the dizzyingly complex stream of data scrolling across the screen. His expression was hidden beneath his mask, but his jawline was taut, and… Clark keenly noticed that fine beads of sweat were constantly beading on Bruce's forehead, even sliding down the edge of his mask.

This is very unusual. Bruce only exhibits this physiological reaction when faced with extremely difficult situations, or even things beyond his comprehension.

Injustice Superman seemed even more uneasy. He was Superman after all; he must know Batman. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, his voice trembling slightly as he repeatedly asked, "How are you, Bruce? Am I...am I beyond saving? What did that little bastard stuff in my stomach?"

Batman didn't answer him, or even seemed not to hear him at all.

As Clark approached, Bruce abruptly looked up, his white-rimmed glasses "looking" at Clark. Even through the mask, Clark could sense the complexity in the other's gaze.

It's even a bit strange.

"What's wrong, Bruce?"

Clark's heart tightened. Had Ian really gotten himself into some irreparable trouble? Batman's voice, coming through the voice changer, carried a sense of absurdity and frustration that was barely concealed.

“In his belly…” Bruce paused, seemingly finding it difficult to speak, “How should I put it, there is highly concentrated pure angelic power from a higher heavenly plane.”

Clark breathed a slight sigh of relief.

Angelic power doesn't sound like anything dark, at least.

Ian had a great time with the angels.

Clark knew this too.

but.

Batman's next words stunned him.

"Clark, these angelic powers are reverberating in an extremely stable structure... like a pre-programmed hymn that seems to help life incubate."

When the word "hymn" is mentioned.

Batman's voice visibly distorted.

It was as if the word was too hot to handle.

Under Clark's questioning gaze, Batman seemed to have made up his mind, and ripped off the listening earpiece connected to his ear with a data cable and handed it to Clark.

His movements carried a resolute air of "I can't be the only one who's deaf."

"Listen to yourself," Batman's voice was filled with weariness.

Clark looked at the headphones and hesitated for a moment. He possessed super hearing and didn't actually need headphones... In that half-second of hesitation, his super hearing automatically picked up and amplified a faint but undeniably present singing voice emanating from Injustice Superman's body.

"Huluwa, Huluwa, twelve brothers in one belly..."

(End of this chapter)