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

Chapter 219 All-out Dazzling Michael's Mouth

Ian's exclamation sounded particularly loud at the empty factory entrance.

There aren't many people in this world who can make someone as knowledgeable and mentally superior as Ian Kent take a deep breath.

This young delinquent in front of him was truly the number one girl on his wish list. Even with his wildly imaginative mind, he could never have conceived of such a "conserving resources and increasing output" approach!

Look at those food boxes that the workers are struggling to carry!

The box was covered in illegible Russian markings and a hammer and sickle emblem typical of that era. It was definitely a relic from the former Soviet Union! Judging by its rusty, weathered appearance, it was probably older than Ian's long-deceased grandfather!
Ian considers himself a capitalist. Although he is ruthless, he still has some bottom line of "conscience," such as not feeding his employees food that is obviously deadly.

But Madison is different; it seems that Ian's bottom line is her ceiling.

To save money, they really went all out! Even if they were using zombie meat, they wouldn't use meat buried deep underground, meat that's practically turning into a real zombie!

Hearing Ian's exclamation, Madison, who was giving instructions enthusiastically, turned around. Even her smoky eye makeup couldn't hide her astonishment. She blinked her large eyes, and the first thing she blurted out was, "Ian? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be asleep by now?"

"You said yourself that sleeping too late will prevent you from growing taller!" She clearly understood Ian's sleep schedule and his obsession with growing naturally to be 1.9 meters tall.

"Forehead……"

Ian was taken aback by this sudden concern, sighed helplessly, and waved his hand: "There's nothing I can do, what can I do when my good-for-nothing brothers like to cause trouble..."

At this point, he suddenly remembered that Jonathan, Jordan, and Damian were still tied up in the church, seemingly forgotten by him.

We were a bit careless.

However... this matter doesn't seem to be in a particularly urgent situation. Anyway, they are tough, especially the two Kryptonian kids. They won't die or turn into dried meat even if they are tied up for a while.

Now, Ian is more concerned about Madison's incredible move.

He pointed to the boxes, still being unloaded from the trucks and smelling of history, forcefully steer the conversation back on track.

"Aren't you going to explain, Miss Madison?"

Ian used a more formal form of address, mainly because there were workers moving goods around, and he wanted to give his deskmate some face by not directly calling her "little delinquent."

That's the kind of attention to detail Ian pays, finer than a needle. Upon seeing this, Madison immediately had an "I get it" expression on her face; at least, she felt she understood instantly.

She puffed out her chest and explained proudly in a boastful tone, "Ian, don't worry! I always strive for perfection and ensure quality in everything I do!"

"This isn't Cold War stuff, it's World War II stuff, it's much older and cheaper. How about that, I saved a lot of money this time, didn't I?" Madison said with a smug look on his face.

Ian was once again shocked.

"!!!"

He thought it was premium zombie meat, but Madison actually brought him the Zombie King! A World War II import?! That meat is probably older than Martha's grandmother!

Can this even be called food? This is clearly a historical artifact! If an ordinary person eats this, won't they instantly awaken past life memories and become a soldier in Stalingrad?!
Writing too many novels had somewhat affected Ian's brain. At this moment, he was utterly shocked. He opened his mouth, trying to express his meaning of "you're being too frugal" in a roundabout way: "Um... my friend, actually, what I meant by 'saving money'... isn't like that..."

however.

Ian hadn't finished speaking yet.

The dark-skinned truck driver next to him, who had been driving with his head down, suddenly reacted after hearing those words!
"No way! Did either of you even study history?!" The driver suddenly turned around, his face filled with frustration and despair. "I really can't find any World War I stuff! Look through a history book! I'm Black, and I know that back then there were no refrigerators or freezers! Where am I supposed to find compressed military rations from World War I for you?!"

This reaction clearly shows that Madison, a history novice, had been nagging him a lot, telling him to search for even more "ancient" and "cheaper" "antique foods".

That's why.

Perhaps he thought Ian's demands would be just as difficult as Madison's.

"What the hell?"

Ian was taken aback by the driver's sudden outburst and turned to look at him. Ian recognized the guy; he was a nobody superhero active in Metropolis, codenamed Black Lightning. Recently, he seemed to be hanging out with his older brother Jordan, and somehow he'd been tricked by Madison into becoming a logistics manager.

However, this guy does have some unconventional methods and always manages to get his hands on "good stuff" that can't be found on the market—although this time the stuff is a bit too "good".

"Don't rush, listen to me."

Looking at the agitated Black Lightning, Ian tentatively asked, "So... you took these goods from the history museum's warehouse?"

He suspected that Black Lightning might have robbed a military museum's vault. It wasn't exactly a stereotype, though; after all, Black men in America were practically synonymous with free shopping.

"Huh? No! What history museum?!" Black Lightning's eyes widened even more upon hearing this, and he looked at Ian as if he were a potential madman.

"Boss, you're not going to ask me to go to the museum and find some mummies to make soup next, are you?!" His voice was filled with fear and paranoia.

His imagination was truly too vivid. Clearly, the few weeks he had worked under Madison and Jordan had given him severe PTSD about the company's "business scope" and the bosses' thought processes, exhibiting typical "Arkham" symptoms, and causing him to frantically question the mental state of those around him.

"..."

Ian had always known he was a normal person, but now he felt that everyone around him was abnormal. He realized that he and Black Lightning were completely on different wavelengths.

The other party always manages to make rather fantastical connections to his perfectly normal statements.

"The Black guy doesn't speak the same language?"

In Ian's view, the weight of that statement was steadily increasing. He helplessly covered his forehead, looking at Madison, who was expectantly waiting for praise.

Subsequently.

Ian forced a smile, remained silent, and glanced again at the zombie flesh marked "Soviet Bitch," which looked as old as fossils.

He felt a deep sense of powerlessness.

“My friend, I understand your intentions—saving money for the company is commendable. But… there’s really no need to go to such lengths to save money…”

Ian was certainly not that stingy. He stepped forward, picked up a can at random, found it heavy and cold to the touch, and the production date on it was so blurred that it was almost illegible.

"This thing... doesn't look like something you could eat at all. I'm afraid if the angels ate it, it wouldn't just be a problem of diarrhea, it would be a matter of them dying on the spot and returning to heaven."

Ian expressed his concerns literally.

He selected the frozen meat that looked "open quality," and with just one glance, he knew that without exception, these meats would ooze green liquid after thawing.

However, he couldn't be too harsh on Madison, because although his classmate had a unique way of thinking, his starting point was genuinely for the good of his company.

Such loyal people are few and far between.

This "loyalty" was even somewhat touching. However... Ian really didn't dare touch the meat. Even someone as unrestrained as him had taken a few bites, which showed just how good the frozen meat looked.

Madison listened to Ian's words, tilted his head and thought for a moment, seemingly a little regretful, but immediately came up with a new "money-saving" plan: "How about... getting some Cold War goods? I know a warehouse manager in Ukaran, he said they still have a lot of 70s stock, the price is a little more expensive than this, but it's definitely much cheaper than fresh meat on the market!"

She seems to have some kind of special obsession with the Soviet Union.

"..."

Ian stared into Madison's pure eyes, racking his brains for a long time, trying to find a compromise that could meet the need to save money without being too anti-human or anti-angelic.

To reiterate, Ian Kent is just a capitalist. He doesn't want to get involved in the kind of business that entrepreneurs like to do, and he doesn't even want to use this frozen meat to open a Bessie restaurant.

at last.

After a period of deep thought, Ian spoke, his tone carrying the difficulty of trying to communicate: "Hey girl, look, our angel employees, although they are supernatural beings, are still humanoid in form, with a certain level of intelligence and aesthetic sense... Shouldn't we show them a little respect for their human rights?"

"At least in terms of diet?"

Ian knew the principle that you have to feed a horse if you want it to run, so he tried to organize his thoughts: "So, the age of this meat... it has to be at least younger than ours, right?"

The patient and persuasive Ian is rarely seen in the current version. Madison nodded as if he understood, and took out a small notebook to start taking notes.

"Oh...we need meat that's younger than us..."

I really hope she didn't misunderstand the sentence. Since Ian only saw this one line, he was still a little uneasy about Madison's interpretation.

"What about seafood? We know Aquaman, so we'll definitely get a lower price." Madison looked up and asked, seemingly unaware that Aquaman was also "a fish."

but.

Her sudden inspiration also inspired Ian.

"Seafood? Seafood is good, seafood is great. Go get some Fukushima seafood for the angels. I want to see if the angels will start shining again at night after eating Fukushima seafood!"

Ian knew that all that random radiation couldn't kill the angels. Besides his enthusiasm for helping the angels regain their "light," he also wanted to see if the angels' circumference would rotate.

"Not bad!"

As Madison listened to Ian's "grand plan," his eyes grew brighter and brighter. He felt that Ian truly deserved to be called the new God, as his ideas were far more sophisticated and avant-garde than his own!
She quickly scribbled furiously in her notebook.

"correct."

Madison seemed to have a new world opened up by Ian's "Fukushima Glowing Angels" and "Binzhou Spinning Angels" projects, and she applied what she learned to other projects.

Her little mouth started chattering away, offering even more, rather complicated, directions for obtaining ingredients.

"Ian, how about we consider the mushrooms from the Chernobyl radiation zone? Maybe we can cultivate angels that spew clouds of spores!"

She still harbored a deep affection for the Soviet Union. The more she spoke, the more excited she became, her eyes gleaming like searchlights. Black Lightning, listening to these increasingly villainous plots, turned green with rage. He felt his already dwindling sense of superhero justice was on the verge of exploding; if he listened any longer, he feared he wouldn't just resign, but would directly call the Justice League to raid this suspicious factory.

Ok?
Justice League.

Black Lightning's expression darkened further. He realized he was making a foolish mistake; the other party was a second-generation Justice League member, and going to the Justice League seemed somewhat unreliable...

Realize this.

A sense of powerlessness overwhelmed Black Thunderbolt.

"Well... the cargo is unloaded! I have other routes to run, so I'm off!" Black Lightning practically blurted out, and before Ian and Madison could respond, he jumped into the cab in a hurry and yelled at the unloading workers who also looked dazed, as if their worldviews had been shaken.

"Get on the truck! Let's go!" The workers, as if granted a pardon, scrambled onto the truck. The truck roared and sped away from this crazy incubator of ingredients, almost as if fleeing for their lives.

All that remained was a trail of dust, WWII zombie meat and canned goods covered in graffiti marked "Soviet Bitch," and Ian and Madison staring at each other in the wind.

"Forget it, let's find some WWII military enthusiasts online, or bloggers who do retro survival challenges, and recycle these things as 'hardcore experience packs.' Maybe we can even sell them for a high price." That's what makes him a qualified capitalist; Ian proposed a plan to reuse waste and even potentially make a profit.

Truly outstanding capitalists have the ability to turn waste into treasure.

It's not that the product has no value.

The problem wasn't that they targeted the right demographic.

"Should we sell it?"

Madison looked at the cans, a reluctant expression on her face: "We've already bought them... it's such a waste to throw them away. Ian, I think I might have a way to... give them a new lease on life!"

She was eager to try and volunteered.

Ian raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Oh? Our technology and ruthlessness have advanced to this level? They can turn fossilized meat back into fresh meat? Why don't you give me some of this good stuff?"

He thought Madison had mastered some incredible food additive technology.

I have a very strong craving for food.

However, Ian's hopes of upgrading were dashed, and Madison shook his head, lowering his voice mysteriously, as if afraid of being overheard by someone.

“It’s not technology, Ian, it’s…magic.” She stepped forward, extending her hands, palms facing a box of zombie meat on the ground that looked like it had just died. Madison’s hands began to emanate a soft, strange energy fluctuation.

Unlike the deep purplish-black of ravens, this energy exhibits a kind of... pearly luster often seen in high-end skincare advertisements?
Anyway, the pearly energy enveloped the boxes like a thin mist. Then, something amazing happened—the zombie flesh actually began to become moist and tender.

It looked as if it had just been slaughtered.

Canned goods were also affected by this force.

The rusty, historic can shells were transformed into shiny, brand-new containers at a speed visible to the naked eye! They looked as if they had just come off the production line!
Even the blurry Russian markings on it have become clearly visible!
"Look!" Madison proudly displayed her results. "I used beauty magic! I discovered it by accident when I was doing skincare treatments for washed-up celebrities in Hollywood! It can make things look like they've been given a second life and feel incredibly smooth!"

She was clearly unaware of what she was doing.

But Ian was a man of great experience. He sensed the unique fluctuations emanating from that energy, his eyes widened, and his expression became somewhat incredulous.

"No! This is clearly time magic!" He had been to the end of time in the Marvel Universe and was all too familiar with the aura that manipulated the flow of time!

Madison's beauty magic isn't just some kind of beauty trick; it's practically a partial reversal of time!

Although the scope is very small, acting only on the surface of the object, it is indeed the power of time!
"Is that so?" Madison tilted his head, looking at Ian with a blank expression, seemingly completely unaware of the terrifying power he possessed.

"Am I not a natural-born beauty witch...?"

She even gave herself a new title.

Seeing Madison's clueless expression, Ian was heartbroken yet incredibly envious. He grabbed her shoulders and exclaimed, "You little devil! You're a genius!"

"If you apply this technology to fossils, you could film Jurassic Park entirely on location tomorrow. Also, you could sell your youth and become a time merchant—these are all good avenues."

"This technology has a wide range of applications! Aircraft carrier repair! It can turn back time and restore worn decks to their brand-new condition! Nuclear submarine polishing! It can instantly restore rusted hulls to their smooth state! And then there's the restoration of famous paintings, the preservation of antiques... My God! Your abilities are simply a gold mine!"

To be fair, Ian's thinking is really brilliant.

Madison was stunned by Ian's description, muttering, "...it can be like this?"

She never imagined that the little tricks she used to remove wrinkles from celebrities and "beautify" canned goods would contain such enormous potential.

"As expected! You are indeed wise!"

She was once again filled with admiration for Ian's "business acumen".

Just as Ian was immersed in his imagination about how "time magic" could change the world, suddenly, an extremely dazzling scarlet light burst forth from the direction of the city center.

A colossal, complex magic circle, radiating a chillingly malevolent energy, appeared out of thin air above the city, slowly rotating!
Even though they were far apart, Ian and Madison could clearly feel the powerful magical fluctuations!
Madison was startled by the sudden sight and exclaimed, "Again?! What crisis is it this time? An alien invasion or a dimensional collapse?"

Clearly, she had become completely accustomed to the rhythm of big news breaking out in the middle of the night every now and then in the metropolis, and after the initial surprise, she felt a kind of anticipation, like opening a blind box.

"Oh, right!"

Upon seeing the familiar crimson magic circle and the aura of the Triple Demon contained within it, Ian suddenly slapped Madison on the head, pretending that he had slapped his own head and thus realized what had happened.

"I was so busy being your life mentor that I almost forgot what I was really here for!" At that moment, he finally remembered why he came to the factory!
"It's alright! It's alright!" Ian quickly explained to Madison, who was trying to rush over, "This isn't a crisis, it's a buffet! And the really top-notch kind!"

He didn't really want Madison to go.

After all, food possessiveness might be Ian's only flaw.

After saying that, Ian rushed into the factory gate next door like a gust of wind, heading straight for an area deep inside the factory building with a sign that read "Live Streaming Area, No Unauthorized Personnel Allowed".

"Oh!"

Since it's his own territory, he can open the door however he wants. Ian chose the fastest way to open the door, kicking open the door to Michael's live stream room.

I saw.

A blond man with an exceptionally handsome face, whose back was faintly bathed in holy light, or perhaps who was already a woman, was dancing in front of the camera wearing an extremely ill-fitting Lolita dress.

"Thanks for the rocket from 'Hellish Good Brother'~ Mwah~ The next song, 'Learn to Meow,' will be for everyone~" The archangel completely ignored Ian's arrival.

All they could see was the computer screen.

After all, you need to accumulate enough points to return to Heaven.

"Mi Jiale! Lend me some wool!"

Ian didn't even have time to complain about the cringeworthy scene. He rushed over and, to Michael's horrified gaze, started tickling his armpits!
"Whoa! What are you doing?! You damned capitalist! Let me go!" Michael screamed, and reflexively, a pair of pure white wings radiating a warm glow sprang out from behind him with a "bang"!
It's now!

With lightning speed, Ian grabbed Michael's largest and most beautiful feathers and yanked them hard!
"Agh—!!!" Michael let out a shrill scream, feeling as if a piece of his soul had been torn off! Golden blood instantly seeped from the spot where his feathers had been forcibly plucked.

"how dare you!"

Michael roared in anger.

Ian didn't care about his anger, which was just repeating the same line over and over again.

He stuffed the large handful of feathers, still warm and imbued with a sacred aura, into his arms, turned and ran, leaving Michael, dressed in women's clothing with a bald patch on his wing, bewildered and cursing in the live stream.

They rushed out of the factory.

Ian shouted to Madison, who was still diligently applying his "time-beautifying magic" to the zombie meat cans, "By the way! Don't eat any of this meat yourself! Give it all to Michael! Put it all in Michael's mouth. He just cursed at me, he cursed me really badly, and I bet he cursed you in his heart too."

Ian is truly far ahead in the area of ​​being inhuman.

Holding a grudge, he gave Michael special attention. Then, his energy surged, and he soared into the sky, preparing to rush towards the direction where the raven and the huge magic circle were located.

It flies very fast.

After all, Ian is not what he used to be.

however.

He had just flown out of the factory.

Before they could even accelerate, they suddenly felt an indescribable, terrifying pressure coming from above, as if the entire sky were about to collapse.

Ian froze, his movements halting instantly. He slowly, somewhat stiffly, raised his head and looked up at the night sky.

In the dim moonlight of the night sky, a colossal, mountain-like figure hovered silently. He had rock-gray skin, wore jet-black armor, and his crimson eyes, burning with an omega-like intensity, were like the entrance to hell, coldly gazing down below.

Darkseid!

This dark lord was gripping another figure by the neck with one hand, as if he were pinching a chick—a man whose S-sign on his chest had faded and whose mouth was bleeding.

Yes.

He was already seriously injured.

Superman Clark is on his deathbed!
(End of this chapter)