What's wrong with Superman's son wanting to be Superman?

In a secluded bleachers stand at another high school in the metropolitan area, Jordan Kent sat alone. He didn't join the noisy clubs or chat with his classmates; he simply found a quiet corner, as if only there could he find a sense of security.

He wore noise-canceling headphones, but no music was playing. He used this equipment merely to justify his reluctance to communicate. His gaze was fixed on the distance, across the city, precisely on the energetic figure running on the distant football field—his older brother, Jonathan Kent.

Jonathan was giving it his all on the court, every collision and every pass brimming with power, drawing cheers from the stands. Jordan watched quietly, a hint of envy in his eyes, but more than anything, a habitual pride in his brother.

Just then, the phone in his pocket vibrated.

Jordan frowned slightly and reluctantly pulled out his phone. He didn't like being disturbed, especially when he was engrossed in his own world. The screen showed the sender as—Ian.

"Ian?" Jordan was a little surprised. His quirky and unpredictable younger brother rarely contacted him unless he got into some serious trouble that required his older brothers to clean up his mess.

He nervously opened the text message, bracing himself for either a mental or emergency call for help.

However, the content of the text message was completely unexpected:

[My dearest second brother, Jordan:]

[When you see this message, I may be working towards some distant and grand goals. But no matter what, I have never forgotten that my family is my strongest support. Thank you for your constant silent support and understanding; your kindness and thoughtfulness are the gentlest treasures of this family.]

Please believe that everything I do is ultimately for the sake of making this family better and brighter. Please continue to believe in me, just as I believe in you.

[Your loving brother, Ian.]

Jordan: "...?"

He was stunned and read the text message three times.

There were no pranks, no strange requests, no vague ramblings. There was only… sincere gratitude, warm recognition, and even a touch of poetic sentiment?

This... this really came from Ian?

Jordan felt as if something had gently bumped into his heart. A warm current, accompanied by surprise and emotion, slowly flowed through his body.

He knew they were talking about handing out flyers. He realized how much his brother cared about this! His seemingly insignificant help was so important in his brother's grand plan!

An unprecedented sense of responsibility and passion surged up Jordan's head in an instant!

Her cheeks were slightly flushed with excitement.

Family! For family!

Ian is working hard to make this family "better and brighter"! He's even willing to challenge...that supreme being? And how can he, simply handing out flyers, do that? Too superficial! Too lacking in skill! He must do more! Better! To be worthy of his brother's weighty trust and recognition!

"Money! I'm not in it for the money!"

Jordan gripped his phone tightly, his eyes hardening with determination. He immediately opened his phone's notes app and began typing furiously, his mind racing as he tried to fuel Madison's flyer campaign.

Ian has a talent for writing.

They were all raised in the same family.

How could he not have it?

"Stocking Superman in Heaven: A Magnificent Comeback from a Lowly Angel to a Supreme God." With Jordan's confirmation, the flyer's contents became even more abundant.

Beginning: The Fall of a Superhero.

Perhaps drawing inspiration from Ian Smith's unpublished work, Jordan's first storyline is a royal flush.

Chapter 197 Let me go and enlighten the darkness?

Madison and Jordan's behavior and the strange things that happened to them.

It's hard to say whether there are other driving forces behind this.

Sometimes, in the subtle and pervasive flow of life, many of our self-righteous ideas may actually be guided by some unseen force.

of course.

This likely excludes the origin story that Jordan is currently creating, or what he considers a masterpiece that could be considered the new Bible.

The urge to write furiously was a rare trait observed in Kent's second brother, who disliked studying.

[Act One: The Fallen Superhero]

[The superhero in stockings tragically died during a superhero operation against an apocalyptic crisis. His noble spirit moved Heaven, and he was elevated to become a "stocking angel."]

However, because he was born a "mortal superhero" and his battle suit was too avant-garde, he was ostracized and ridiculed by the traditional and conservative angelic group led by Michael. He was banished to the outermost part of Heaven to guard the area, where he was not valued at all and suffered all kinds of humiliation. A female angel even jumped out and said that he would only ever be a little angel.

For the sake of all living beings, and to better protect humanity, the angel in stockings endured all of this without complaint, suffering year after year in heaven.

[Act Two: The Magical Ring]

Just as the angel in stockings was losing all hope and spending his days weeping over the earth, the mysterious ring his mother had secretly placed in his coffin when he ascended to heaven suddenly burst forth with dazzling light!

A weak but wise old man's voice came from within.

"The kindest child on earth, don't panic... I am God. Many years ago, I was betrayed by that rebellious son Lucifer, and only a remnant of my soul remains hidden in this ring."

The old man's omniscient and omnipotent authority was taken away, but his vision and the "Seven-Day Intensive Method to God" remained. From then on, the stocking-clad angel began her path of revenge under the guidance of the old God's remnant soul.

[Act Three: Ten hours on the east bank, ten hours on the west bank!]

……

to be frank.

This is a plot that even a great writer like Ian Smith couldn't have written.

Jordan wrote with great passion.

Completely immersed in the grand narrative I had created, I felt like I was a modern-day Shakespeare, composing an epic saga of the divine realm with my keyboard!

He believed he had finally found the right way to contribute to his family and his brother!

"That's it, yes, that's it, the story comes alive on its own." Jordan wanted to polish the script to perfection and then anonymously release it on various online platforms.

They even considered funding a small workshop to film a low-budget web series.

As someone who has successfully entered the industry, become the actor who plays Homelander, and embarked on the Hollywood path, Jordan believes that he has already made some connections in this circle.

It's possible.

Everything is just right.

Meanwhile, at another school, Ian, walking down the corridor, suddenly shivered and sneezed repeatedly, wondering if someone was watching him.

"Ah!"

Another sneeze.

Ian rubbed his nose and went to the school cafeteria.

As the school's "invisible bully," wherever he goes, the surrounding students will subconsciously make way for him, so he can always find a seat quickly no matter when he arrives.

The cafeteria was now bustling with noise, the aromas of various foods mingling with the hormones of teenagers, creating a unique, noisy energy field.

Get your food.

Find a seat.

Ian also began to enjoy his meal alone.

He seemed to possess a silent force field, naturally creating a circle of empty space around the table where he sat, and no one dared to easily approach this school bully known for his "glorious deeds".

Of course, there are also stubborn people.

Ian was engrossed in his lunch, and secretly pulled out various things from his dimensional pocket that tasted like "garlic cloves" but were actually minerals.

[Entropy Annihilation Lord Experience Points +19]

[Entropy Annihilation Lord Experience Points +18]

[Entropy Annihilation Lord Experience Points +17]

Ian, immersed in his own world, seemed quite aloof.

However, his figure always attracts certain classmates.

"Ian is over there!"

Madison usually doesn't eat in the cafeteria at noon; she prefers to find some "elegant" food outside of school, which gives Emily a rare opportunity to be alone.

“I can definitely get Ian back!” Emily Parker took a deep breath, clutching the exquisite three-tiered lunchbox with a kitten pattern tightly in her arms, as if carrying some sacred mission. She mustered her courage, crossed the invisible “barrier,” and sat down opposite Ian.

The little girl's heart was pounding, and her face was flushed with shyness.

“I…Ian…” her voice was barely audible, her cheeks flushed, “Today…today my mother made a lot of her signature dishes, she…she asked me to bring some for you to try…”

Emily's eyes were expectant.

Ian didn't even look up.

"Hmm? Your mother? Could it be that your mother, like you, also wants to eat something good?" Only a true veteran could decipher the true meaning behind his question and surprise.

Although children in Europe and America are generally more mature, it would be too much to ask the 15-year-old Emily to understand Ian.

“My mom wants me to eat some really healthy, additive-free food.” Emily wasn’t deterred by this dismissive attitude; she carefully opened the first layer of the lunchbox.

A rich aroma immediately wafted out.

“Look, this is her specialty, roasted ribs. It’s made with a special sauce and slow-roasted for four hours…” Emily’s voice carried a hint of anticipation and pride.

Ian finally lifted his eyelids, glanced at the tempting-looking ribs, and twitched his nose: "But, I'm sorry, I think I'm allergic to soy sauce."

He's not the kind of naive boy who can be easily fooled by girls with food.

Emily's smile froze for a moment, but she quickly perked up and opened the second layer: "No...it's okay! Try this! Baked lobster with cheese! It's very fresh!"

The sycophant continued making recommendations.

“Huh, it seems like today is Tuesday. I usually have an allergic reaction to marine protein on Tuesdays.” Ian blinked, and his answer made Emily’s heart flutter even more.

Although she couldn't understand it, she still thought Ian was very unique.

"Then... how about a vegetable salad? It's very healthy!" Emily's fingers trembled slightly as she opened the third layer, which contained a colorful vegetable salad.

See this.

Ian's eyes widened immediately.

"Oh no, there's broccoli in this, and I'm really...really allergic to broccoli." This time, his refusal was much more obvious than before.

"??????" Emily was dumbfounded, staring at the last layer of the fragrant sandwich, her voice almost breaking with tears: "Could it be... that you're allergic to sandwiches?!"

She looked at Ian with her last hopeful gaze.