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

Chapter 239 Superman and Batman
The red figure, like a shooting star tearing through the night sky, with boundless speed and power, and carrying raging fury, crashed onto the street not far from Constantine!
The concrete floor cracked instantly, forming a shallow, spiderweb-like pit.

The smoke and dust slowly dissipated, revealing a figure that stood as tall as a mountain—a red cloak fluttering behind him, muscles bulging beneath his blue battle suit, and a face that was usually full of hope and gentleness, now filled with the rage and ferocity of an approaching storm!

Superman—Clark Kent—arrived, but just like every superhero who is always a little too late when it comes to events involving their family, he missed the best opportunity to rescue them.

Although Clark is much stronger than before, he is still a step too late, which seems to be a rule that is constant in the DC universe for every superhero.

It's not just that the fastest Flash is always one step behind; whenever family is in danger, it seems that no superhero in the DC universe can nip the crisis in the bud.

"Huhuhu~"

in the air.

The sound that rang out was Clark's heavy breathing, a result of his intense emotional turmoil. His eyes, burning with a blue light, first swept across the empty street, then locked onto the only "adult" present, and the last person he perceived to be with the children—Constantine.

That gaze.

It was as cold as the ancient ice of the Arctic.

It contains a fury and a question that could freeze the soul of any mortal.

"..."

Constantine felt his throat was a little dry.

He knew that the worst had happened. And the trouble was probably far greater than any magical event he had ever experienced before.

"do not do that!"

Feeling the almost tangible pressure from Superman, Constantine's will to survive surged instantly! Without hesitation, he raised his hands high to indicate that he had surrendered.

His movements were so fast they almost left afterimages, and he was speaking rapidly as if he was afraid that if he was even a second too late, he would be blasted into dust by Superman, leaving not even a speck of ashes.

"Hey! Calm down! Kryptonian! Their disappearance has nothing to do with me! Really! I swear!" He tried to make his expression look sincere and innocent. "I saw something was wrong with this thing and wanted to come and save the three children! But... I didn't make it in time! I was just a little bit short!"

As he spoke, he frantically gestured with his eyes to the statue beside him, which had already revealed a ferocious face and an aggressive posture, emphasizing the real threat. Constantine dared not take his gaze away from the angel statue, because he knew all too well that such a creature understood the principle of picking on the weak.

"Ah."

Superman Clark did not refute Constantine's explanation.

His global superhuman vision and hearing did indeed detect the unusual energy fluctuations and Constantine's anxious warning at the last moment. He knew that his failure to arrive in time was the main reason for the children's disappearance, and Constantine's appearance was merely a variable that hastened their deaths.

At this moment, anxiety, anger, and lingering fear intertwined, inevitably causing him to vent his anger slightly on this seemingly unreliable guy who reeked of smoke and magic—after all, if Constantine hadn't suddenly spoken up and attracted the children's attention, they might not have been able to look away so easily.

Perhaps I can arrive before that strange change occurs!
It was only a fraction of a second off. In that split second of hesitation, he realized he could barely observe the statue's movement, and the children vanished from the spot.

“This statue…” Superman turned his cold gaze to the eerie “angel,” his anger transforming into a more solidified will to destroy.

His eyes suddenly lit up with a blinding red light, like two miniature suns, with terrifying heat gathering and churning within them, and the surrounding air began to distort due to the high temperature!
A golden hue burned deep within his pupils—a sign that his evolved heat vision was about to be unleashed. He clearly intended to annihilate the monster that had caused his sons' disappearance in the most direct way possible!

"Wait! No!" Constantine was terrified at the sight and, disregarding Superman's anger, immediately spoke up to stop him despite the suffocating pressure!

“You can’t kill it! At least not now!” Constantine’s voice was shrill with urgency. “This thing has to live to save those children!”

In order to prevent the situation from escalating further, Constantine had no choice but to bite the bullet and explain, even at the risk of being accidentally injured by Superman in his rage.

"This thing...it's special! It 'sent away' the children, instead of killing them! Its very existence seems to be tied to the point in time and space where it 'sent away' its prey!"

"If you destroy it now, who knows where those children will be thrown into time? They might even get lost in the temporal turbulence!"

"That would truly be the end!"

Although he wasn't sure if Superman's heat vision could completely annihilate these higher-dimensional beings known as "Weeping Angels," even though they lacked traditional life signs like heartbeats and blood, and conventional physical and magical attacks were almost ineffective, he dared not gamble! After all, the one making the move was the miracle maker, Superman.

If Superman were to actually do it in a fit of rage, those three children would be in grave danger! Constantine didn't even dare to think about the chain reaction that would ensue.

He is one of the few who, with a mortal body, can touch the existence of the multiverse and has also traveled through many multiverses in his spirit form. Therefore, he knows well what kind of fate Earth, and even the universe, has taken in those universes where Superman lost his family. He does not want Superman in his universe to suffer a similar fate.

Constantine's intuition and judgment told him that it wasn't a problem that could be solved by escaping to other multiverses; the superman in this universe was simply too powerful and too sinister.

To observe Superman's facial expressions and constantly guard against attacks from the angel statues, Constantine had no choice but to use magic to create a single eye on his forehead to observe Superman.

He kept his eyes constantly on the angel statue to avoid being ambushed. Superman did not punish Constantine for his observation.

"You know this creature very well?" Upon hearing that the children might not have completely disappeared, but had only been "sent away," the red light in Superman's eyes, which was enough to melt stars, gradually subsided and disappeared.

He forcibly suppressed the urge to destroy them immediately, and asked in a low, urgent voice, "The children aren't dead, so saving them is the top priority now."

Constantine breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing this, but he still dared not relax in the slightest. He had to keep his eyes fixed on the angel statue while quickly explaining the facts.

“These things are called Weeping Angels,” Constantine said rapidly, recounting some ancient knowledge. “They are among the earliest and most vicious killers in the universe!”

Clearly, Constantine is not the kind of life form capable of observing and perceiving an invasion from another universe. In his understanding, the Weeping Angels belong to the DC universe.

“Their core characteristic is—quantum locking.” He pointed to the statue. “When you look directly at it, it will be locked into stone, unable to move. But once you look away, even just by blinking, it can move at faster-than-light speed and quickly appear in front of the target it has locked onto!”

"Their speed is so great that their movement trajectory cannot be measured."

“Their hunting method is to throw you to a point in the past,” Constantine said gravely. “Then they will ‘devour’ the ‘potential time energy’ that you should have spent on the original timeline, which is equivalent to them living by stealing your ‘life potential’!”

"Anyone touched by them will be instantly thrown over there and left to fend for themselves!"

"Because of the need to extract, they steal the time that should belong to you."

"They usually don't kill you directly, but rather leave you to wander alone through time, or cause even greater time paradoxes and disasters by altering the past!"

“They are living stone statues, predators of time.” Constantine certainly knew enough about the weeping angels to recognize them as a form of existence from a higher dimension.

Superman frowned deeply upon hearing this bizarre and unheard-of concept: "How could something like this... appear in the city? At the doorstep of an ordinary person's house?"

Clark's voice was filled with suppressed anger and confusion. He didn't expect Constantine to answer the question; his gaze, like a searchlight, suddenly turned to the villa—towards the homeowner, whom he sensed was hiding inside, his heart pounding with fear!

"do not want!"

Inside the villa, the female homeowner, who had been hiding behind the heavy curtains and peeking at the outside world, was terrified the moment she saw Superman arrive.

He just wanted to shift the blame for the disaster.

How did we end up attracting Superman's attention?

When she realized that Superman's cold gaze had pierced through the wall and was precisely locked onto her, she screamed hysterically like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

Then, the woman turned around and tried to escape through the back door!

However, she had only taken one step and hadn't even had time to see the handle of the back door when she felt an irresistible sense of pressure coming from behind her!

She turned her head stiffly, little by little.

Suddenly, the figure in the blue bodysuit and red cape appeared behind her silently, like a ghost.

Close at hand!

Those blue eyes held no warmth, only a suffocating majesty.

"Ah—!" The female homeowner screamed in fright, her legs went weak, and she collapsed to the ground, scrambling backward until her back hit the cold wall. There was nowhere left to go.

"No...don't come any closer! It has nothing to do with me! It has nothing to do with me!" Her voice was shrill and tearful as she began to frantically and incoherently try to distance herself from the situation.

"Don't come after me! Putting aside the facts, don't you superheroes bear any responsibility? Why couldn't you prevent these monsters from appearing in the city?!"

"Why didn't you appear to save me when I dug it out? So, it's all your fault. This whole mess is your fault."

“I’m just a girl. What’s wrong with wanting to save myself? Besides, I’ve already graduated with a PhD. I have more social value than most people!”

She tried to confuse the public by being unreasonable and shifting the focus, even subtly using the rhetoric of "boxing," attempting to use her gender and disadvantaged position as a shield.

"Ah."

Superman looked at her like this, his facial muscles suppressing the anger that came from his redneck genes.

It was these monsters and demons that caused America, and indeed the entire world, to be in such chaos. He took a step forward, and a huge shadow completely enveloped the female homeowner.

The female homeowner trembled with fear at his approaching movements, and even felt a warm, wet sensation in her crotch, clearly terrified. Despite this, she still threatened him in a shrill voice, her voice betraying her underlying fear.

"What...what do you want to do?! I'm warning you! I'm recording this! If you dare touch me, I'll sue you! I'll sue you for trying to assault me!"

"I have 300,000 followers on Twitter, I can ruin your reputation!"

"I have nothing to do with that statue! I know nothing about it! You can do whatever you want, but don't come after me! Aren't you, Superman, a symbol of justice? Can't justice be reasonable? Can't it respect ordinary people? If you dare to lay a finger on me, tomorrow's headlines will be 'Superman's atrocities: Attempted assault on women'!"

"The whole world will know you're a lawless outlaw!" She became more and more agitated as she spoke, as if she were the victim and that as long as she shouted loud enough, she could absolve herself of her guilt.

This woman attempted to use public opinion and the law as weapons to threaten him. Superman watched as she was clearly terrified, yet still trying to bluff and protect herself with despicable means.

at last.

Superman couldn't help but laugh in exasperation.

The laughter was cold.

There was no temperature, as if it were a cold wind from Siberia.

"I don't care about your despicable nature of shirking responsibility." Superman's voice was terrifyingly calm, as if stating a fact unrelated to himself. "But you have to tell me—why did you leave that harmful thing out there? And where did you find it?"

His questions went straight to the heart of the matter and could not be avoided.

The female homeowner swallowed hard, her eyes darting around, clearly aware of the situation. But the path dependency formed from years of boxing made her continue speaking sharply.

"What if I don't say anything?!" She raised her head, trying to appear tough. "You're Superman! You're a hero! You can't lay a hand on an ordinary person like me! That's your rule! You dare touch me?! I have plenty of ways to make people believe you're trying to violate my body!"

She was certain that Superman was bound by morality and reputation.

I dare not use violence against her.

They attempted to use this as a talisman.

Superman's smile grew even colder, and he nodded as if agreeing with the other person's words.

"Well, you're right."

Superman's voice remained calm: "My upbringing and my beliefs prevent me from using my powers on you, even if I know you're a scoundrel."

Upon hearing this, the female homeowner immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

A hint of relief at surviving a close call and a barely perceptible smugness even appeared on her face. See? These so-called heroes are just fools bound by these rules and regulations!

She was even prepared to take advantage of the situation and make a few more sarcastic remarks to solidify her "victory".

However, just as a slight smile appeared on her lips, and she was about to speak, Superman suddenly changed the subject, his tone carrying a cold decisiveness.

"but……"

"There's a right person for dealing with someone as hopeless as you. At this moment, I wholeheartedly agree that superheroes should also be diverse."

After saying that, Superman didn't even look at her again. He turned around and walked steadily out of the house, as if he was no longer needed there.

"What nonsense are you spouting? Has your brain gone mad, you brat?" The female homeowner was stunned by this sudden change, completely bewildered and at a loss for words.

She muttered to herself, watching Superman's departing figure, thinking that Superman was just protecting his reputation and had chickened out, unable to do anything to her, so he could only say a few harsh words and then slink away.

A surge of inexplicable courage welled up within her, and she couldn't help but want to utter a few more harsh words at Superman's back, trying to salvage the face she had just lost by being terrified.

"Hmph! What are you pretending for! You just don't dare to do anything to me! Let me tell you, this isn't over! I'm going to..." She hadn't finished speaking.

Boom! ! !

A deafening explosion came from overhead! The villa's sturdy roof shattered as if hit by a cannonball! Wood chips, drywall, and dust rained down like a storm!

A pitch-black figure, seemingly blending into the shadows, descended from the sky with the force of a thunderbolt, accompanied by shattered building materials!

"Who! Who destroyed my house!"

"Where's Superman! Superman!" In the terrified, still-reacting gaze of the female homeowner, a boot sole covered in hard armor rapidly magnified in her pupils.

"boom!"

A muffled sound!
That boot landed precisely and ruthlessly on the female homeowner's head! It slammed her head, which she had just managed to get up and raise, back onto the floor.

Dust settled slowly.

The silhouette of his helmet, resembling the pointed ears of a demon, and the bat emblem that appeared particularly cold and menacing in the moonlight cast by the broken rooftop, were all reflected in the light. He was clad in jet-black armor, his cloak billowing like bat wings, and his right foot precisely pressed down on the back of the female homeowner's head, pinning her to the ground.

"Ugh—!"

She let out a short scream, her face pressed against the floor, unable to utter another word.

Batman coldly looked down at her, his voice low and echoing like the sounds of hell.

"You're right, Superman can't touch you."

He slowly squatted down, his eyes beneath the mask as cold as icy stars.

"But I can."

Batman's eyes held an absolute coldness.

"The Qing Dynasty had seventy-eight kinds of cruel punishments, and ancient Rome had thirty-two: skinning, slow slicing, the Iron Maiden, dismemberment, wheel breaking... We can choose one to start with."

The night wind howled.

Inside this villa.

Justice has come in another form.

(End of this chapter)