It was clear.
Ian had not come to the wrong place.
He was just a little late.
The battle had already ended.
"This is normal. After all, I'm a DC person, and in our world, even the fastest man is late every day." Ian's gaze swept over the frozen square, where the bodies of soldiers lay scattered. In the center of the wreckage, Gwen Stacy leaned against a broken wall.
She was still wearing her combat suit, but a huge tear ran across it. Internal organs were spilling from her abdomen, dragging a horrifying trail in the snow.
"Hi, Gwen! Good evening!" Ian waved enthusiastically at Gwen. After all, among the scattered soldiers, she was the only person he knew who was still breathing.
"It's morning..."
Gwen saw Ian too. She was exasperated by this man who always appeared and disappeared mysteriously, but even in her dying state, she didn't forget to correct Ian.
"By my body clock, it's evening." Ian didn't mind her attitude. He looked at the incredibly bloody ground around them, somewhat surprised that he seemed to be quite adapted to it.
"What happened here?"
Ian picked up a relatively clean gun and poked Gwen, who was leaning against the fountain wall. Since Gwen had closed her eyes, he suspected the girl might be about to kick the bucket.
Of course.
Like the soldiers around, Ian knew Gwen could still "resurrect."
"Don't poke my mouth!"
The dying Gwen found the strength to grab the muzzle of the gun Ian was poking at her, and then, with the weak voice of one in "the last flicker of life," she begged Ian for help.
"Kill me."
Yes.
This was her plea for help.
Due to her unique physical resilience, she couldn't die, and her excessive vitality had become a problem. Ian raised an eyebrow, but before he could speak, the demon at his waist beat him to it.
"He doesn't like killing people. He promised his strict father." The demon head at his waist clearly wanted to please Ian and cooperate with the Dimension Lord disguised as a human child.
However.
"Shut up!"
Ian slapped the demon head again.
"Then again, you don't always have to listen to your father. Just like my father told me to pledge allegiance to Trigon, but look at my fate now."
The demon quickly changed its tune.
It truly couldn't figure out Ian's intentions.
"A demon..."
Gwen looked at the talking head on Ian's waist—yet another uncorrupted transcendent individual. A complex mix of emotions crossed her eyes.
Her gaze toward Ian, when she looked up again, was filled with confusion.
"How can this be? Everyone... the demons... should no longer exist." Her chest constantly rose and fell. She looked like she was about to take her last breath, but she just couldn't.
"Help me!"
She pleaded again.
"Do you have to die to resurrect? Can't ten, no, a hundred thousand of you appear simultaneously?" Ian generally understood why she was so desperate to die.
If so many Gwens could appear, the bold idea brewing in his mind would burst forth.
"We are not clones."
Seeing Ian taking no action, Gwen could only sigh and clarify. "You really don't know anything. This is so abnormal. Tony didn't record our data and memories."
"You underestimate him. You underestimate our last savior—he carries the soul of every person in the universe, not just some abstract biological information." Gwen's hand, which was gripping the gun muzzle, dropped. Her pale lips barely moved, her voice as faint as a snowflake falling.
"It can be like that? Isn't this the Gwen Stacy Absolute Power-User Program?"
Ian was extremely surprised.
"It can be like that? What is the Gwen Stacy Absolute Power-User Program?"
The demon head acted as a flawed echo.
It wasn't intentional.
The information it heard was simply beyond its scope of knowledge.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Now, can you kill me? You can ask Tony himself about the specifics later. His information processing ability will surely keep up with your thinking." Gwen's voice was pleading, making Ian, who still wanted to ask what happened, feel a bit awkward.
"No problem. I've watched the *Killer* movie, I know how to kill." Making a solemn promise, Ian stepped forward, crouched down, and first tried to cover Gwen's nose and mouth with one hand.
However.
Finding his hand wasn't large enough, and under Gwen's bewildered gaze, he dropped the laser gun he was holding and used both hands to carry out a "murder" that would make even Conan shake his head.
"Don't fight back. Actually, fighting back is useless. My strength is definitely greater than yours now. We can compare later if you don't believe me." Ian pinched Gwen's nose with one hand and covered her slightly open mouth with the other. This killing technique stunned not only Gwen but also the Bull-Headed Demon.
"You should break her neck."
The demon finally couldn't help but offer its sincere advice.
"I know! But then blood would spurt out of her mouth and nose! Do you know how expensive this outfit is?" Ian remembered how difficult his blood-soaked clothes were to wash before.
"..."
"..."
The demon and Gwen, whose mouth and nose were covered, were speechless at the same time.
The girl's eyes widened.
She couldn't speak.
She could only dip her hand into the blood on the ground and begin writing on the snow next to her, "I want to die quickly... Also, you're stepping on my colon!!!"
Her handwriting was scrawled.
She used three exclamation points at the end to express her inner feelings at the moment. Ian looked down and indeed found that he was standing on Gwen's exposed intestine.
"A woman's mouth is a deceiving ghost. This is clearly the appendix." Ian took a few steps back, and his hands naturally released her. This allowed Gwen, who had been holding her breath almost to death, to start breathing again.
"?!?!"
Gwen couldn't find the words to curse him, she desperately regretted her limited vocabulary. She grit her teeth, her trembling fingers slowly reaching for her own abdomen.
Rather than letting this hateful boy help, Gwen felt it would be quicker and cleaner to end it herself. Just then, she seemed to suddenly see something and stopped her self-termination.
"In the sky! Experiment Subject!"
Gwen's weak voice carried a note of tension.
"Experiment Subject?"
Ian looked up but saw nothing.
At this point, the demon at his waist suddenly spoke, "She's talking about that, right? It looks truly beautiful. Oh, can this marvelous dimension actually give birth to such aesthetically pleasing life?"
Its tone was one of admiration.
Ian followed suit and turned to look at the sky.
The next moment.
"Oh, my Father in Heaven... What the heck is that thing?" Ian's head was ringing, and he felt as if he had been struck by lightning, wishing he could pluck out his eyeballs and wash them with disinfectant.
"Alright, alright! If we can't eat a good-food-fighting dish in the apocalypse, we'll start playing with good-corpse-fighting, is that it?" Ian realized that the survivors of this world seemed to be engaging in a very creative new innovation.
He saw.
A bizarre figure suspended in mid-air. The figure's robust torso was encased in Homelander's iconic blue uniform, but thick, muscular arms and legs of the Hulk were attached to that body.
The knotty limbs contrasted absurdly with the relatively slender torso.
Snowflakes drifted down.
And quickly melted.
The "Good-Corpse-Fighting" set of eyes, glowing red, locked onto Ian.
***
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