7:30 in the morning.
The Kent family's old grandfather clock chimed dully.
Master Ian, who had been up all night, was still energetic. He walked downstairs, using the window latch he had dismantled as a chew toy.
Batman's gadgets were truly miraculous. With just a slight study of the mechanism, a tool that could secure an entire window was transformed into a portable, elongated object.
"Smells good."
The aroma of burnt bacon wafted from the kitchen.
Jonathan Kent was busy in the kitchen.
"Where are Mom and Dad?"
Ian poked his head around, looking everywhere.
"Thanks to Batman's foray into Metropolis, they didn't come back last night. They just called me, asking me to watch you—they called more than twenty times this morning."
"What did you do this time?" Jonathan was still flipping the bacon in the kitchen. Curious about his parents' instructions, he stuck his head out and saw Ian pulling things out of his pants.
"I created a new round of GDP growth for Metropolis, you're welcome?" Ian tossed away the soft padding he'd pulled out of his rear, then retrieved another soft pad from the front of his T-shirt.
Temporarily useless protective gear should be discarded.
"I don't understand, but it sounds impressive." Jonathan came out and served Ian a sandwich. When the adults were away, he was usually responsible for taking care of his two younger brothers.
Ian picked up the newspaper from the table. The headline, SHOCKER! Gotham Superhero Turns 'Street Loiterer', Appears in Metropolis to Save Fallen Women! was particularly eye-catching.
This gave Ian a reminder.
Ian took out his phone and hit the redial button.
The call connected.
He spoke enthusiastically.
"Good morning, sir. Are you awake? If you're not, you can go back to sleep. I just wanted to send you my sincerest greetings for the day."
Ian was still determined to get a Green Lantern Ring from Batman.
"Beep beep beep~"
The call was hung up.
The other party gave no response.
Ian didn't mind, though. The Gotham weirdo was naturally reserved and subtle with his emotions. All that mattered was that he had successfully cultivated his relationship with the Gotham weirdo for the day.
Next.
It was time to greet his righteous father.
And, most importantly, to pray to Lady Death. He was very polite, only contacting Lady Death before eating, to avoid being considered clingy or a low-value man.
After a series of fervent confessions, Ian rarely received any response. Just as he thought Lady Death hadn't woken up, he opened his eyes and found a woman sitting across from him.
Lady Death, wearing a black slip dress, sat with a dignified posture, her long fingers tapping the table. Sunlight passed through her body, casting a faint shadow on the floor.
"This isn't right. Can you try appearing again?" Ian rubbed his eyes in disbelief, checked the colors around him, and looked at the busy Jonathan in the kitchen.
Lady Death stared at the boy in front of her.
"Time doesn't stop whenever I appear."
Her words seemed reasonable, and Ian believed her.
"Okay, mainly I thought if Jonathan saw you, he would definitely think I was tricked by a bad woman last night." Ian lowered his head shyly.
"?????"
Lady Death's mouth twitched slightly.
"He can't see me."
The Goddess rolled her eyes furiously.
Just then, Jonathan poked his head out of the kitchen: "What are you muttering about?"
The eldest brother certainly heard Ian's babbling. It didn't even require super hearing to notice.
"But he can see you talking to yourself, like a lunatic," the Goddess of Death added, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, as if ready to laugh at Ian's expense.
However.
"Nothing, I'm just chatting with my imaginary friend." Ian still remembered his father's warning, Jonathan and Jordan were too old and couldn't handle this supernatural world.
Hearing this.
Jonathan nodded calmly.
"Oh, okay, well, say hello to your friend for me." The gentle elder brother showed no sign of strangeness, even making an enlightened expression.
He returned to the stove in the kitchen to continue cooking.
"Does your whole family have some kind of mental illness?" Lady Death was quite astonished by the sight. She watched Ian take a cheerful sip of milk.
"This is my stable reputation at home."
Ian's tone was full of emotion, slightly wistful.
"..."
Lady Death really wanted to ask Ian what he was so proud of, but she held back and got straight to the point. "I've managed to sort out a small amount of useful information from your excessive ramblings."
"You mean that the shrinking living space in the Multiverse will cause the high-level beings to be demoted, the souls of ordinary life to overlap, and eventually the universe will collapse into a ruin?"
She looked at Ian suspiciously, summarizing the content of Ian's prayers.
"Yes, yes."
Ian nodded.
"Hmm, interesting speculation. So, you're telling me that this information, which I hadn't even thought of, was secretly whispered into your ear by your Super Brain while you were sleeping?"
Lady Death raised an eyebrow.
"Not in my ear, under my crown chakra."
Ian corrected her wording, then nodded his small head again. His reply made Lady Death rub her temples.
"Honestly, I'm starting to regret why I infused myself with such abundant humanity recently." The Goddess took a deep breath, her expression like she had swallowed a hedgehog whole.
"You have no damn Super Brain... You dramatic little brat. I'll go verify what you said, but until then, I hope you don't bother me three times a day!"
With that.
Lady Death snatched the sandwich from Ian's plate.
And disappeared completely.
She didn't even leave Ian a single leaf of lettuce.
"I guess she means I need to contact her at least four times a day?" Ian failed to save his breakfast, so he grabbed Jordan's portion.
Those who wake up late deserve it. Ian had reported everything he needed to. Whether the higher-ups took it seriously was no longer a concern for an independent NPC like him.
*Thump thump thump*
Sometimes.
Jordan was easily summoned by thought. Speak of Jordan, and Jordan arrived. He walked downstairs, rubbing his eyes. Jonathan happened to come out of the kitchen and gave both brothers a fried egg and fried potatoes.
"Why do you look so haggard?" Jonathan was concerned about Jordan. His dark circles reminded him of a raccoon.
"Nothing, I just didn't sleep well." Jordan hesitated, his gaze falling on the sandwich in Ian's hand, then looking at his own empty plate.
No major emotional fluctuations.
A food thief, that's all.
He was used to it.
Jordan watched Jonathan walk back into the kitchen. He looked at Ian, struggled for a moment, and then whispered, "Ian, something strange happened to me again yesterday."
He kept glancing toward the kitchen, as if he didn't want Jonathan to hear.
"What's strange?"
Ian was devouring the sandwich.
"I went back to my room from yours last night... my eyes hurt a lot... In the middle of the night, I think I saw Batman in Mom and Dad's room doing something."
Jordan's tone was hesitant. "Maybe it was a hallucination? It seems... I'm prone to hallucinations in my condition. Damn it, my browser is already recommending suitable coffins for me."
"And they're all so expensive."
His voice was more despairing than last night.
However.
"What the hell!?"
Ian was always shocked by his second brother.
"You didn't leave your room? You didn't see anyone else? You only saw Batman?" He asked tentatively. Was his X-ray-eyed second brother also awakening? He probably went back to his room and disciplined himself severely again!
He was already so worried about getting a terminal illness, how could he still keep going in his room!
"Yeah, I didn't leave the room. That's why I thought it was a hallucination, since there were only a few fleeting images." Jordan rubbed his eyelids, trying hard to recall.
"Awesome. You're the real Superman of Metropolis." Ian genuinely gave his second brother a thumbs-up. Continuously awakening superpowers, even in this way, was a unique talent.
"Stop making fun of me. I really feel like my time is limited." Jordan sighed deeply. His only worry now was that if he kicked the bucket, Ian would actually try to test if he could be resurrected.
"I bet you'll live, and you'll live very well. Maybe you should talk to Mom or Dad about this?" Ian gave a very suggestive piece of advice.
"Maybe."
It was unclear if Jordan had taken it in.
"I'm full, I'm going to school now." Ian checked the time, put down his cutlery, wiped his mouth with tissue paper, and shoved it into the backpack behind him.
"It's Saturday. What school are you going to?"
Jordan looked up, his face full of confusion and incomprehension.
"As long as school is in my heart, I can go to school at any time." Ian used a prepared excuse. He actually had something else he needed to go out for.
Temporarily hiding from his returning parents was secondary. Whether it was cashing the check or taking Mr. White to buy chemicals, these were secrets he couldn't reveal.
"Should I compliment you and say, 'That's great'?" Jordan watched Ian leave with his heavy backpack, his expression troubled. He started eating absentmindedly.
He had barely taken a few bites.
*Ptooey ptooey ptooey!
A commotion came from the kitchen.
"This isn't protein powder!" Jonathan's voice was full of shock and uncertainty. Jordan quickly ran to the kitchen and saw Jonathan holding a cup of white liquid, examining it closely.
"What's going on?"
Jordan first looked at Jonathan's filled protein powder tub, then walked over to the trash can. He immediately solved the mystery. "It's the milk tea sweetener Ian loves to add to his coffee."
He pulled out dozens of packets from the trash can.
The two elder brothers stared at each other.
"He probably forgot to buy your protein powder yesterday." Jordan then discovered American dollars tucked under the protein powder tub. He handed the money to Jonathan with a strange expression.
What could Jonathan say?
Logically and emotionally.
He could only forgive his youngest brother.
"It's fine. Sweetener is sweetener. Ian must have wanted to help me dirty bulk." The fact proved that money power was indeed useful. Jonathan tightly held the two hundred dollars, being incredibly understanding.
"Then drink it."
Jordan stared at the cup in Jonathan's other hand.
"I will drink it, but not right now."
Jonathan was struggling to keep his composure but still held firm. Jordan didn't have the energy to tease his older brother. He grabbed a bottle of ketchup and walked back to the dining room.
"What is this thing?" Jordan found the chew toy Ian had used and discarded. He saw the Batman symbol on it and his pupils immediately contracted sharply.
"Was I not hallucinating after all?"
The genuine Super Brain might truly be rapidly awakening.
The news of Batman coming to Metropolis.
The scene he witnessed.
And his mother's frantic, cursing demeanor last night—everything seemed to connect perfectly. Jordan, who gasped sharply, felt he had grasped the truth.
"Batman and Mom..."
He dared not think further.
If he thought any more, he would have to pity his father.
Wait.
Is that really our father?
Or is it—no, he couldn't think any more. Jordan felt he was about to explode if he did. He quickly threw Ian's chew toy into the trash can with trembling hands.
Pretending that nothing had happened.
Of course.
If that horrifying thing were true, Jordan felt he might actually live a little longer. And the reason why Jonathan, Ian, and even himself seemed slightly abnormal had also been found.
They shouldn't be in Metropolis.
They should be in Gotham.
They would definitely be considered normal people there.
"What's wrong with you?" Jonathan also came out with his plate. He saw his shivering second brother and felt more and more that Jordan might be feeling unwell today.
"Nothing!"
Jordan fled.
He quickly ran upstairs to his bedroom.
He stared at his box of treasures, trying to temporarily forget the unacceptable, absurd reality. Although he and Clark didn't get along, it didn't mean there was no father-son affection between them.
Memories flashed before his eyes.
Just as Jordan tried to escape reality.
His phone rang.
Jordan's fingers trembled like the legs of an electrically stimulated frog, because he saw "Mom" displayed on the screen. He immediately had the urge to throw the phone out the window.
"Hello?"
Of course.
In the end, logic triumphed over fear.
Jordan picked up the phone.
"Your brother isn't answering his phone. Is Ian with you?" Lois's voice came through the phone, the background sound the frantic churning of the newspaper office's printer.
"He was just with me."
Jordan's voice was faint, like that of a genuinely terminally ill patient.
"And now?"
Lois's follow-up question was serious.
"Now he's gone to school."
Jordan answered honestly.
"School? What school on a Saturday?" Lois sounded surprised. She even checked the time, thankfully, the double pay for overtime today hadn't been calculated incorrectly.
"I asked him the same thing, but now I understand. He's probably trying to hide from you guys. I think he might have pulled all his classmates out and forced them to go to class."
To be honest, Jordan was inadvertently empathizing with Ian immensely.
He recalled that Batman iron bar. If a low-achiever like him could figure it out, Jordan was certain that the smartest child in the house must have guessed something.
"What did he tell you? What did you understand?" Lois thought Ian had confessed everything at home. She asked Jordan somewhat tentatively.
"Ian didn't tell me anything, but I gradually understood everything on my own." Jordan swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He looked very nervous.
"Yes, I understand everything... You and Dad are in a second marriage, right?" Jordan finally couldn't hold his composure. Dead silence instantly fell on the other end of the phone.
Jordan could hear the sound of his blood rushing against his eardrums.
"What are you talking about?"
A moment later.
Lois spoke again, her voice stable.
Jordan breathed a sigh of relief.
He slightly lowered his guard.
"I... I..."
He touched his eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror. "I might have awakened Batman vision. I often see on TV that Batman's eyes are red when he appears."
This statement was perhaps very subtle.
But Lois was not so foolish as to miss the implication.
*Gulp*
The sound of someone drinking something was heard on the other end of the phone.
"Go get Ian to answer the phone!"
Lois's voice was slightly cracking.
What a reputation.
This was perhaps the true reputation.
"It has nothing to do with Ian, I figured it all out myself! I have some smarts too!" Jordan defended Ian, which was, in fact, the truth.
Therefore.
"Very well."
Lois was suppressing some emotion.
"Then you wait at home. I'll have your father come back for you." After calming down a little, she realized that Jordan might have awakened Kryptonian abilities.
This was a serious matter.
Lois didn't dare lose her temper easily.
However.
The mother, who was trying hard to control her emotions, still didn't quite see her sons clearly.
"Um... which father is coming back for me?"
Jordan asked cautiously.
That one sentence alone nearly made Lois explode on the other end of the line.
...
Talent is not ubiquitous.
But the Kent family was clearly more likely to nurture talent than other families.
Just as Jordan was using his own ability to provoke the strongest person in the house, Ian was carrying his backpack and beginning his incredibly busy day.
Cashing a check was not complicated.
Although minors typically cannot cash checks alone, when the minor is the beneficiary of the check, some banks will still accept and process it.
The Joker had been very thoughtful.
Ian cashed the check smoothly and easily.
"If I didn't say anything, who would know I'm already a millionaire?" Ian bought a pair of breathable pantyhose on the street, and, guided by Mr. White, he found Metropolis's black market, holding a thermos flask.
"I once worked for Luthor... I know he was researching bio-soldiers... It was because I wanted to escape him that I ignorantly made a deal with the devil."
Mr. White was melancholic inside the thermos.
"It was the great Trigon!"
The demon's head in Ian's backpack corrected his statement.
Ian was a lively scene on the inside.
"Bio-soldiers? Good! That's more exciting! But I need to confirm, that's not some kind of drug, right? A child from a positive-energy family will be mortal enemies with drugs and gambling for life!"
Ian maintained his necessary vigilance and positive attitude.
"..."
Mr. White was silent for a moment. "It's just enhancement serum, used to create super soldiers. Luthor's ambitions are huge, he's not just limited to military orders."
He still felt a lingering fear when mentioning this matter.
"Mhm mhm, this is acceptable, very acceptable." Ian was relieved. So, guided by White, he arrived at Metropolis's so-called black market.
It was essentially just a rather chaotic street with some shops selling contraband under various signs. In reality, these shops also conducted some legitimate business on weekdays.
For instance, the shop that concealed chemical raw materials was a century-old store named Old Joey's Custom Suits. A bald, muscular man in work pants was performing delicate sewing work inside.
Ian gave the bald man the code phrase, as Mr. White had instructed.
"What are you buying?"
The bald man looked at the child Ian with surprise. He hadn't expected Old White to stoop so low as to use a minor for merchandise purchase.
It was truly a bit shameless.
The store owner, who cursed the shameless person in his mind, did not know that the shameless person was actually contained in Ian's thermos. Since he assumed Ian was the old customer's errand boy, he quickly retrieved the goods for Ian.
The transaction was smooth.
So smooth that Ian was a little unwilling.
"I'm just a little kid. Shouldn't you rob me, then kidnap me, and sell me to a factory?" This was the script Ian felt was more suitable for him.
Hearing this.
The bald boss scoffed.
"I'm in this for the long haul. You think I need your small change? Integrity, that's the most important thing in the black market. How much money can I make by putting you in a sack and sending you off?"
He clearly looked down on Ian's words, yet this made Ian feel that his words were incredibly sound.
No choice.
Harboring a feeling of resentment, Ian could only leave regretfully. His "fair trade" mode also had its own trigger conditions, and regrettably, this shop did not earn that honor.
"Where did all my favorite bad guys go?"
Ian walked through the gloomy alley, feeling slightly pained.
"Is this serum really worth six thousand dollars?" Since he didn't receive much material, Ian suspected that Mr. White might be taking kickbacks even after his death.
Perhaps the store owner would pre-order a few beautiful girls for Mr. White in hell later.
It was hard to say.
"Let me try a few times, and I can definitely reproduce the formula data for that enhancement serum." Mr. White, sensing Ian's unfriendly gaze, quickly reassured him.
"Why go through all that trouble?"
Ian directly mixed the formula materials together.
And drank all the gray substance in one gulp.
The next moment.
[Savage Tyrant Experience +13]
He leveled up.
Attributes were enhanced.
[Strength: 21—22.1]
[Constitution: 38—41.5]
[Intelligence: 3.0—3.2]
[Spirit: 7.6—7.7]
It was clear.
Savage Tyrant focused on Constitution, while Berserker focused on Strength. Neither contributed much to the Spirit and Intelligence attributes, which made Ian feel a slight regret.
Of course.
[Minor Genetic Breakdown]
The newly acquired negative effect could be considered a form of comfort.
[Berserker Experience +2]
One level-up session.
Double the rewards.
Ian was finally satisfied with the six thousand dollar expenditure.
"Too bad he didn't have enough stock, or I could definitely fly tonight." Ian looked at his extra Professional Skill Points and didn't choose any flashy skills.
He learned the new skill [Solar Flare Eyes], and immediately felt a scorching heat in his pupils.
"It's golden light. Now Mom won't misunderstand." Ian looked in the mirror and was very satisfied with the intimidating aura he projected in the reflection.
Since he still wanted to level up.
He continued to search for other shops in the area. Mr. White in the thermos quietly sank to the bottom. The demon's head in the backpack suddenly spoke.
"I smell the scent of hell."
It sniffled with its rotting nose. "And a filthy liar."
In its voice.
There was an emotion of intense disgust.
Ian also understood why the demon was so disgusted. Although he didn't have a dog's nose, his newly strengthened eyes also spotted the man in a vintage trench coat in the distance.
At the corner.
Constantine, wearing a beige trench coat and chewing on a cigarette, was walking this way.
The moment their eyes met.
Ian wanted to walk around.
But Constantine walked around faster than him—he immediately turned a corner and bolted, as if terribly afraid of facing something horrifying if he ran too slowly.
Constantine didn't care even when one of his shoes fell off.
Ian was instantly dumbfounded.
"Wait, is he the God of Plague, or am I the God of Plague? I should be the one avoiding him!" Ian was so angry he stamped his foot. Humanity was sometimes so contradictory.
It was one thing to guard against others, and another to be guarded against by others.
"I think he's being very wise."
The demon head's voice echoed faintly from inside the backpack.
"Shut up! I'm wearing a mask! How can he still recognize me! He must have an urgent need to go home and take a dump!"
The annoyed Ian hesitated for a moment but decided not to take off his sock and stuff it into the demon head's mouth. He couldn't compromise his foot comfort for a moment's pique.
Just at this moment.
"No! What happened to me just now! Why did I feel dizzy and take this car!" A heartbreaking wail came from the distance, instantly catching Ian's attention.
Ian perked up his ears. Realizing the direction the sound was coming from was the same direction Constantine had been walking from, he realized someone else must have been scammed.
"Damn it, why didn't Constantine scam me! I love being scammed the most! Even if he likes to punish scum like himself, it's not like I can't be a piece of scum!"
Ian followed the sound and found an empty lot.
A fat car dealer with a scowling face was wailing desperately in front of a black Dodge Hellcat. The car keys in his hand were like a hot potato that he couldn't shake off onto the ground.
Clearly, this person had been haunted.
"This car has killed nine people! A total of nine people! Why did I buy it! Someone must have drugged me!" The car dealer knelt in front of the Dodge Hellcat, trembling.
His face was desperate.
"What! Nine Soul Rings! A Titled Douluo-level Muscle Car!" Ian detected the key elements and immediately became interested. He quickly approached the wailing car dealer and spoke softly.
"Eight hundred dollars. I'll take this car."
Hearing this.
The car dealer looked up abruptly as if he had grasped a life-saving straw, then saw the boy wearing a nylon stocking mask standing in front of him. His subconscious first reaction was that he had encountered an on-the-run robber. But realizing Ian was just a child, the car dealer relaxed slightly.
"Kid, do you even have a license? And you want to buy a car?"
The car dealer's eyes were conflicted.
As if he were fighting a moral battle.
"That's hilarious. If I'm going to become a Soul Ring, why would I need a driver's license?" Ian thought the other party was not quite right in the head. He hoped the dealer would drink a few more bottles of walnut juice when he got home.
"..."
The car dealer's conscience immediately stopped struggling.
"You want the money but not your life, right? Take it!" He pulled out a large wad of dollars from his pocket and slapped it, along with the keys, into Ian's hand. The moment the keys left his hand, he felt a huge sense of relief.
"You brought this on yourself. Don't blame me, don't blame me." As if to convince himself, the car dealer repeated the phrase and ran away as if his life depended on it.
"..."
In the empty lot.
Ian was left alone, looking at the keys and the money in his hand.
His expression was somewhat blank.
"I said eight hundred, and he gave me seven thousand two hundred... Metropolis has too many suckers." Ian sighed. He felt he should probably adjust his service prices appropriately.
Yes.
His charging standard at school was clearly unsuitable for this society. Having earned back all his previous expenses, Ian started circling the cool American muscle car.
"So cool~"
Ian wasn't interested in the Soul Rings on the car, of course. He simply judged that a Titled Douluo-level muscle car with so many Soul Rings must have an autonomous driving function.
"And maybe even automatic repair. This is my dream car!" As Ian ran his finger over the hood, the Dodge Hellcat's lights flashed eerily.
"This car runs only on human blood."
The demon head spoke faintly from the backpack behind Ian.
It was very scary.
Ian was indeed startled.
Because he quickly calculated in his mind that even if he bought human blood as a first-hand recycler, a 400 ml bag of whole blood would cost between $200 and $300.
This fuel was genuinely much more expensive than oil.
"As expected, high-end cars have high-end operating costs." Ian couldn't help but sigh. He had a flash of inspiration, then a second, and by the third flash, he had a perfect countermeasure.
"I told you I was resourceful."
The happy Ian perked up again.
"What do you mean?"
The demon head was still puzzled.
"Human blood is too expensive. A Hellcat should drink hell blood. Free fuel is the best fuel." Ian's words made the demon head in the backpack even more confused.
"What hell blood?"
The demon head was completely baffled.
However.
This confusion only lasted until Ian pulled it out of his backpack.
"No! Don't!"
As Ian wrung it out forcefully like a wet rag.
The demon understood.
***
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