For Clark.
This was a passing down of his family values.
As for Ian.
He was still somewhat unable to grasp this unexpected turn of events.
"Thank you, Dad!" Of course, he was still grateful for his father's understanding, and his face was alight with surprise. He quickly stepped forward and gave Clark a solid hug.
He could feel his father's muscles tense for a moment.
Then, they relaxed in resignation.
A moment of genuine family warmth was overflowing.
And just then.
"Your body changes are related to you impersonating Batman, aren't they?" Clark suddenly asked, making Ian's body instantly stiffen again.
Sure enough, even a hug full of affection couldn't let him escape this topic. Ian understood that the change in his physical condition could not possibly be hidden from Superman's eyes.
Letting go of Clark.
Ian stepped back a few paces.
"This is a long story, so I'll make it short." He nodded at Clark. Clark waited for a few seconds, only to realize his son had no intention of continuing.
"Why aren't you saying anything else?"
Clark's face was full of confusion.
However.
"I did say something. Long story short... that was the short version." Ian nodded at Clark again, reminding his old father, who probably didn't use his super-brain as frequently as he did.
The air in the room solidified again.
A vein visibly throbbed on Clark's forehead, but he ultimately just sighed helplessly. "Batman said he thinks highly of you and will send you a set of his suit."
He didn't press for too many details.
Instead, he walked toward Ian's desk. Superman probably didn't realize Ian knew that Wayne was Batman, so he didn't sell out his Justice League teammate in front of his younger son.
"It's okay, Dad, I won't be Batman anymore. Batman just gets beaten up. I still want to be Superman, like you. I remember you have a black suit, right?"
Ian felt his high emotional intelligence was on display. A father would surely be disappointed if his son didn't admire him, so he showed his love for the Superman suit.
This was genuine love.
If he learned a few more [Savage Tyrant] skills, who could say that Ian Kent wasn't the Son of Superman? Ian was delighted by this, while Clark had not yet realized the seriousness of the issue.
"Flattering me now won't work." He saw through Ian's little scheme, but there was still a slight smile on his lips, which vanished when he approached Ian's desk.
It didn't last very long.
"This is..."
Clark placed the demon head on Ian's desk, and his gaze was immediately drawn to the thermos on the desk. The contents of the cup made his temple throb violently twice again.
"Ian."
Clark's voice suddenly became unprecedentedly serious.
"Did you kill a person?"
He pointed at the translucent soul of Mr. White inside the thermos.
His gaze was incredibly sharp.
Ian quickly shook his head frantically at the sight. "I didn't kill him. I saved Mr. White! If it weren't for me, Mr. White would be bathing in Hell right now!"
He was telling the truth.
Clark could tell.
"It wasn't me either! I didn't kill this fallen one! The great Trigon took its life!" The demon quickly denied it when Clark's sharp gaze turned towards it. Finding it only had a head and couldn't shake it, it quickly revealed who had taken the chemistry teacher's life.
How to put it?
Loyal, but not that loyal?
Judging by the way it sold out its own master, it was definitely a pure-blooded demon. Towards its master, whom it had never met but only heard the voice of, the demon once again demonstrated a demon's characteristic language.
"You won't get another chance to kill anyone."
Clark spoke solemnly to the Bull-Headed Demon.
"What if I say I've never killed anyone... The first time I came to the mortal world I ran into a ghost. You'll probably think I'm making a demon's sophistry..." The demon, now only a head, sounded somewhat wronged, but Clark didn't care about the past of a creature like it.
The father looked at his younger son. He was noticeably more relaxed after learning the truth, but he still spoke to Ian in his usual honest, Kansas farm-style tone of admonition.
"Self-control is very important, Ian. For people like us, a small mistake can lead to a huge disaster. I want you to maintain enough rationality in all situations."
This was definitely heartfelt, serious instruction from Clark.
Ian deeply agreed.
"Don't worry, Dad. Even for supervillains, I won't kill them. I'll just lock them all up in Hell." Ian, who responded seriously, nodded repeatedly.
"Hell? You mean... prison, right?"
Clark was momentarily confused.
The difference between those two words was quite significant.
But he was still willing to believe Ian just had poor language skills.
"Same thing."
Ian nodded again.
"..."
Clark was silent for a moment.
"No Hell! Only prison!"
He reiterated the correction, feeling uneasy.
"Okay, prison it is."
Ian was a little disappointed but agreed nonetheless. He believed this was for his own good. As a minor, being decisive and ruthless truly didn't suit his age.
But it didn't matter.
Locking up everyone who bothered him in prison and then killing them when he grew up was also a solution—Ian looked at the bull head on the desk. He felt that the demon's throat could definitely be converted into a private prison. This was Ian's super intelligence, always finding him a win-win solution.
If the demon couldn't spit out the prisoners later, that was the demon's problem, not Ian's. He could even claim to be a victim, saying his childhood dream was to punish evil people when he grew up, but the dream was shattered, turning him into a heartbroken boy.
"Very good."
Clark, who couldn't read minds, looked relieved. "It seems that while you're a bit flighty, your thinking is mature enough. I think this will put your mother and me at ease."
Saying this, he turned and walked towards the window.
*Hiss*
The demon head had already sensed Ian's malicious gaze. Seeing Clark about to leave, it weighed the options and finally screamed hysterically at Superman.
"Take me away! Take me away! Demons are also legal citizens of this universe and should have the right to be saved by Superman... I mean, don't let me corrupt your child!"
"I'm a demon again now! I'm very good at corrupting children!" It truly didn't want to stay here. Even being taken away and imprisoned by Superman felt happier than staying with Ian.
"Shut up!"
Ian quickly reached out and covered the bull head's mouth.
"I told Jordan I went out to buy milk, so I still need to go buy some milk." Clark just glanced back, not worried that Ian would be corrupted.
The demonstration of "No one knows the son like the father" was quite clear here.
Just as he expertly climbed out the window and onto the outdoor eaves, Clark seemed to suddenly remember something and circled back to give Ian an instruction.
"Oh, right. Speaking of Jordan, you absolutely must not let him see your... trash can." Clark referred to the demon head he had placed on Ian's desk using Ian's own term.
The father's expression seemed to hold back more words.
Again, the saying holds true.
No one knows the son like the father.
"I understand. Jordan needs to enjoy a normal life." Ian quickly came up with a genuinely suitable reason for his second brother, and Clark nodded approvingly at this excuse.
Everything was conveyed without words.
After Clark disappeared with a *swoosh* into the sky, the room was once again left with only Ian and the demon head. The atmosphere was fine because Ian had already picked up his hammer.
"Don't come closer! Don't you dare come closer! I beg you, don't come closer!" The demon looked at Ian's approaching figure, its murky yellow eyes filled with fear and dread.
"We demons are inherently liars and very fickle! I just can't control my nature!" Its honest voice was trembling beyond recognition.
Of course.
Honesty would not stop Ian's revenge against a snitch.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
After a round of repairs.
The demon felt like its soul was about to be hammered apart.
"I want to die! Now! Immediately! Why can't I die! I should have been hammered to death by you!" It let out a hysterical cry.
The voice was filled with intense confusion.
"Is there a possibility that you've cursed someone you shouldn't have?" Ian merely speculated. He lifted the demon head from the desk and looked at the peach-butt alarm clock his second brother had given him.
"Time is almost up. You need to assist me in an experiment."
Ian spoke softly.
"W-what experiment?"
The demon stammered.
It had an extremely bad feeling about this. Ian didn't answer. He just held the demon head tightly and lay down on the bed. The moment the clock hands overlapped.
All was silent.
When he opened his eyes again, it was another world entirely.
Snow was falling everywhere.
The boy silently appeared on a desolate street.
"It was really because of me?"
Ian looked at the demon head in his hand, his eyes filled with astonishment. He had previously brought back a laser gun from this world, and now he had actually brought a living creature into this world again.
His speculation was confirmed.
Ian was extremely shocked.
"No! No! No!"
The demon head in his hand was trembling uncontrollably, far more intensely than when facing Superman.
"This is impossible... Impossible!" The demon's voice could no longer be described as just trembling, but was filled with a sense of disbelief, terror, and horror.
"What's impossible?"
Ian was still puzzled as to why he could do this.
"You... You..."
The Bull-Headed Demon's throat seemed blocked. Its damaged vocal cords emitted a ragged, bellows-like shriek. Its insane screams completely shattered the seemingly eternal silence of this world.
"How can you be a Dimension Lord!"