The demon in the black robe found it unimaginable.
What level of terrifying Hell Demon could possibly erase his demonic brand in an instant and immediately take possession of that supremely powerful artifact?
"King of Hell… you must be a King of Hell…" The fear in the black-robed demon's heart continuously grew. His mumbling words might have been considered praise in a demon's eyes.
However.
Ian was not a demon.
In his opinion.
Hell was full of self-proclaimed Kings of Hell.
The title was practically worthless.
It was not as good as the Minotaur Demon calling him a Dimensional Lord.
"I am your daddy!" Ian did not mince words, grabbing the demon again and delivering two solid punches. The curse that escaped his lips tasted strange upon closer inspection.
Was he not just cursing himself?
The Ancestor persona was indeed difficult to maintain. It seemed he had to blame the Batman suit again. After wearing it, Ian was slightly ruthless when cursing himself.
"Pft—"
The black-robed demon was punched by Ian until he was constantly spitting blood. Ian's face was filled with distress, and he immediately covered the demon's mouth, preventing the guy from wasting his extremely precious high-grade fuel.
The Minotaur Demon was just a Hell grunt, yet the Hell-blood it possessed could make a Hellcat car race across the land. If he used the blood of a Son of Demon lord, would it not take Ian directly to the sky?
Checking whether Armstrong really planted the Stars and Stripes on the moon would not be impossible!
"Do not spit up blood anymore. I will hit you lighter next time…" Ian tried to comfort the demon, but his sudden tenderness only sent chills down the black-robed demon's spine.
"Wuwuwu—"
His covered mouth was moving, trying to say something, but it was muffled and unclear.
"You promised not to spit up blood, okay?"
Ian slowly let go.
The demon's mouth immediately overflowed with a trace of fresh blood.
"Bang! Bang!"
Ian's fists struck again. This time, he chose to smash the black-robed demon's head. After all, if the demon only suffered a brain hemorrhage, it would not be a loss to Ian as long as the skull was not cracked open.
"Aaargh—"
The black-robed demon let out a painful wail. The black mist surrounding his body had completely dispersed, and he was barely clinging to life. "You said you would hit me lighter!"
He could not help but ask the heartbreaking question.
"Yes, I did hit lighter. I was going to use eighty percent of my strength, but I only used seventy percent… can you not tell?" Ian said, hitting the black-robed demon's head again.
"That is seventy percent."
He finished, then forcefully hit the second time.
"That is eighty percent."
He strained to prove that he was an honest and trustworthy person.
"Pft…"
With his head ringing, the black-robed demon, whose soul felt like it was being struck, was almost infuriated to the point of spitting blood by Ian's actions. However, when he saw Ian's bright and clear eyes, he quickly forced the blood back down his throat.
It was obvious.
As a demon.
This one possessed a certain level of intelligence.
"We are all demons, we should be on the same side, we should unite against Heaven and God… let me go, I promise I will do my best to assist you."
"I reincarnated into this body in the mortal world, possessing many powers only a sorcerer would have, and I can also perform prophecy…" The black-robed demon struggled to make Ian recognize his value.
If Ian were a demon, he would indeed possess some value. After all, due to the rules limiting Hell and the mortal world, most demons could not bring their full power into the mortal world.
For this reason.
Having a powerful warlock as an ally would make many things much easier. Unfortunately, the black-robed demon had completely mistaken Ian's identity from beginning to end.
"You curse dirtier than my Uncle Batman curses my Dad. I am this handsome, and you still think I am a demon?" Ian's fists were eager to strike.
The black-robed demon's heart was shaken.
"I… I am also a demon, and I am quite handsome, am I not?" He quickly forced a smile, frantically trying to defend his statement. The demon believed his emotional intelligence was maximized.
Little did he know.
"What class are you? Using the same word 'handsome' as me? Besides my Dad, my older brother, and my second older brother, who could recover his normal looks if he could only give up his daily routine!"
"Everyone else can only be considered alright-looking!" Under the black-robed demon's astonished, aggrieved, and terrified gaze, Ian delivered a few more punches to his lower body.
"Aaargh—"
This time, the black-robed demon's face turned white from the pain.
He felt it would have been better to hit his head.
"Stop! Stop it! Stop!" The black-robed demon furiously tried to make Ian stop. The human body was too weak, and the vital spots were indeed a bit too vital.
"Are you trying to tell me what to do?"
Ian immediately delivered a thunderous slam to the demon's head. The high-level demon constrained within the human body was not durable. A large lump visibly swelled on his forehead.
He was even less durable than the low-level Minotaur Demon.
"Damn it!" The black-robed demon was filled with lingering fear. Thankfully, the large lump did not swell on a vital spot. Otherwise, how painful would that be? In his lingering fear, he completely broke down.
"My father is the new Satan of Hell, the great King of Hell! You would not want to offend a new god in Hell!" Words that sounded like pleading mixed with threat came out of the black-robed demon's sausage lips.
His mouth looked much tougher than his skin.
"New Satan?"
Hearing that name, Ian felt it did not sound like something a decent demon should be concerned with.
"Satan, my foot's new Satan. Do you not know that the only god in the sky above Metropolis is my… Dad!"
Ian truly embraced this arrogant and overbearing personality. He was not one to flaunt his father, but since he had adjusted himself to the Ancestor Mode.
A different mode.
Required a corresponding personality.
Who said the DC Universe did not have its own Legion? As long as he opened enough alternate personas, even if one's reputation was ruined, there could be a second one. This was the capitalist's necessary contingency planning and hedging.
With the flexible application of the Mac performance method, Ian naturally did not have to worry about actually suffering from split personality. For this, he had to sincerely thank his teacher who taught him the [Technique of Partial Release of Innate Nature].
"Little punk, quickly find me a rope and some scaffolding." Gratitude in his heart was enough. Even if he was fully in character now, Ian could not bring himself to praise Madison as a true superhero.
The reason was simple.
Madison was "wriggling" on the ground behind him, crawling around, clearly because she could not find her phone and was trying to fish out other people's phones from the pockets of the unconscious crowd.
"Huh?"
Madison wanted to take a sad literary photo of herself—[The World Always Leaves Me Covered in Wounds]—to post on social media. When she looked up, a few fallen leaves were stuck in her blonde hair.
"What do you need a rope and scaffolding for?"
Madison had relaxed after Ian displayed his divine might. She did not know where the pedestrians and her phone had gone, and she was full of confusion regarding Ian's request.
"Do not question me."
Ian tried his best to put on a serious face. "Remember, when I use my main persona later, do not ask me questions that ruin my image. The Ancestor does whatever he wants."
"The Ancestor goes wherever he wants." He seriously instructed, reminding Madison to pay attention to their mutual adjustments. Madison could only vaguely understand such a demand.
"Oh."
She got up from the ground and quickly went searching around. It was common for Madison not to understand Ian's thought process. Most of the time, she just thought she was not smart enough to keep up with the top student's thinking.
Regarding this.
Madison did not mind.
After all, not being smart was a necessary label for a hot Hollywood actress. For this reason, Madison had her own special way of understanding Ian's instruction.
"Ancestor is Ian's 'do whatever I want' personality—" She was like an actress reciting lines, pondering the script, and suddenly it clicked. She immediately understood.
Soon.
Madison found what Ian wanted.
She watched Ian tying the black-robed demon to the scaffolding like a sausage, but she was not interested. The girl from Metropolis only knew that Ian had won, and everything was settled.
She did not care about the demon's life or death.
She even went forward and kicked him a few times because of the previous "chase."
A short memory was like that.
Fortunately, the demon's thigh was not as hard as Ian's calf.
"This hateful demon must have eaten everyone's phones. Ian, can I borrow your phone for a moment?" Madison looked at Ian's bulging pants pocket.
She was a bit anxious.
How could she not be anxious? It was not every day that she encountered such an event. If she did not quickly take a few more beautiful photos of her [fragile and easily wounded] self, the scrapes on her arm would soon begin to heal!
How else could she attract attention?
How could she elicit sympathy on social media?
"Here."
Ian did not ask any questions.
He readily handed over his phone.
"Thank you!"
Madison immediately got into character.
She began posing in front of various ruins. One moment, she was leaning against a crashed car, gazing at the sky at a forty-five-degree angle. The next, she was squatting by an exploded mailbox, posing in a terrified flight posture.
What was a mean girl like?
This was probably it.
"Are you two crazy?"
The black-robed man was tightly bound, but he could not help but speak, his expression twisted. There was no way around it, even as a demon, he could not understand how such people existed in the world.
"Do you have medicine, then?"
Ian tentatively asked. He had originally thought he could trick the demon into giving him some special Hell-supplied medicine. Unexpectedly, his hopeful anticipation only met the black-robed demon's blank expression.
"If you do not have medicine, why are you talking nonsense! Did your mother's urinary system explode?" Ian was greatly disappointed, feeling that the demon was intentionally mocking him. So, he spat out the most vicious swear words he could express in English.
Seeing Ian about to throw a punch again.
"I am sorry! I am truly sorry! No more! Please! I cannot take it anymore!" The demon begged tearfully. Although he still had not figured out what he had done wrong.
"Very good. Now, I ask, and you answer." Ian pulled the magic book out from his underwear—he had not brought his backpack, but the waistband of his underwear was a perfect temporary bookshelf.
He tucked the book, which would occupy both hands, below his belly button.
This was an emergency method only smart people could devise.
"Okay."
The black-robed demon no longer dared to talk back, nodding frantically like a pestle. He had likely realized Ian's ruthlessness and only dared to steal a few nostalgic glances at the book Ian had taken from him.
"What is the use of this book?"
Ian flipped through the strange magic book, whose pages were completely blank. He felt no subtle connection between himself and the book, so he naturally needed to seek answers from its previous owner.
"It… it was an accidental collection of my father, the Demon King Crowley. Before coming to the mortal world, I tricked my foolish brother into stealing it for me."
The black-robed demon stuttered, constantly glancing at Ian's expression. He wanted to use the name to intimidate Ian, but the effect was not as good as he had hoped.
"That Crossroads Demon? A tailor claiming to be a king when the tiger is not on the mountain." Ian's expression did not change, but he could not help but mock. He sincerely lamented Hell's particularly unusual workplace environment.
Crowley.
The name was very memorable.
It, like Sam, Death, and the good godfather, was an integration from the same universe. Originally a Crossroads Trading Demon, he later seized the opportunity and indeed became the so-called King of Hell.
"Are you not afraid of my father…"
The black-robed demon noticed Ian's lack of reaction and grew increasingly desperate. The other party even knew his father's former profession, and he was even more unable to fathom Ian's origins.
"Let us get back to the book. Do not talk about other useless things." Ian tapped the strangely shaped ancient book in his hand. Even though the black-robed demon was full of unwillingness, he could only honestly answer.
"I do not know its origin. Perhaps my father and brother do not know either. The only certainty is that it seems to possess the incredible power of a creator."
"The user can write upon it to create powers that do not belong to this world." The black-robed demon spoke the truth because he was afraid Ian had a way to test if he was lying.
Powerful beings in Hell almost all had such abilities.
"If it were really that powerful, would you have been beaten this badly by me?" Ian, of course, did not have telepathy, so he looked very suspicious, tapping the black-robed demon's face with the book in his hand.
"Creating rules does not happen out of thin air. It requires magic power as support. Because I lack enough magic power to use it, I need the Supreme Witch to die."
"Only when the Supreme Witch dies can I become the new Supreme Sorcerer and obtain sufficiently powerful magic power." The black-robed demon continued to maintain his honesty.
Because he did not know if Ian was testing him.
Such a seasoned old demon.
Could be capable of any trickery.
"Tell me about the Supreme Witch and witches in general." This was a blind spot in Ian's knowledge, so he was eager to know. Since childhood, he had been the kind of person who was enthusiastic about learning.
"Okay, okay."
To please Ian, the black-robed demon quickly began to reveal information, not daring to conceal anything. Just as Ian expected, this was a part of the story he did not know.
Witches/Sorcerers.
Were the most ancient extraordinary profession existing in this world. Only those with innate talent could become a sorcerer, and this talent was related to an ancient bloodline.
"Descendants of an Ancient God?"
Ian repeatedly pondered the black-robed demon's words.
Savoring the information within.
"Yes, that is correct. This is information many people do not know. A sorcerer's power has the characteristic of bloodline inheritance. Every sorcerer controls at least one powerful bloodline power."
"Among them, elemental control, mind control, astral projection, teleportation, resurrection of the dead, prophecy, and telepathy are called the Seven Wonders of the Sorcerers."
The black-robed demon began to talk non-stop. He knew this was his value. "Of course, sorcerers can have other abilities, but only these seven wonders are the key to judging the strength of the bloodline."
"Only a sorcerer who controls the power of the Seven Wonders simultaneously is the descendant whose bloodline is closest to the Ancient God. This person will gain the vast majority of the magic power the Ancient God left in the mortal world."
"This is the so-called Supreme Sorcerer—in fact, perhaps because the Ancient God's gender was female, almost all Supreme Sorcerers are witches without exception."
"Also, for this reason, the magic power possessed by a witch is inherently greater than that of a warlock." The black-robed demon expanded Ian's worldview, making Ian feel his knowledge growing.
Speaking of which.
The black-robed demon looked at Madison, who was immersed in taking photos not far away. "She has passed multiple tests of the Wonders. Although not all tests, she is already infinitely close to the level where she can inherit the Supreme Witch's position. Therefore, she is definitely the best vessel for the already aging Supreme Witch."
"I cannot let such a thing happen. That would add more magic power to the Supreme Witch, who is already very strong." The black-robed demon explained why he wanted to capture Madison.
"If anyone is going to reincarnate into that body, it has to be me."
Holy cow.
This was truly ruthless.
"If I were you, I would not worry about this kind of thing." Ian looked back at Madison, who, after narrowly escaping death, was still absent-mindedly taking photos.
The girl was taking a selfie leaning against the crashed police car. Her blonde hair fluttered in the evening wind, and the phone camera captured her deliberately squeezed-out tears and the scrapes on her collarbone.
A perfect "battle-damaged beauty" look.
"What do you mean?"
The black-robed demon did not quite understand Ian's words.
"You just said it, the reason why the Supreme Witch must die—only when the Supreme Witch dies can the portion of magic power she occupies be transferred to another person whose bloodline is close to the Ancient God."
Ian frowned, his eyes slightly flickering.
"Yes."
The black-robed demon nodded in response.
He found Ian looking at him with increasingly strange eyes.
"What is wrong?"
The black-robed demon could not help but ask.
"Let me clarify this for you. According to this rule, if you can kill all the other witches and warlocks, all the Ancient God's magic power will be carried by you."
Ian was genuinely thinking seriously again.
"Yes, if possible, I naturally want to monopolize all the magic power left by the Ancient God." The black-robed demon displayed honesty, not concealing his ambition at all.
"Hmm."
Ian nodded. "That is a very good idea, but have you ever considered why the Ancient God, whose name you do not know, has always had her residual magic power existing in the mortal world?"
"And, most importantly, this magic power can be inherited by different sorcerers in different eras. The closer the sorcerer's bloodline is to Her, the more magic power they can be allocated."
"As a demon, do you not find this situation strange at all?" Ian looked at the bewildered demon, feeling that this guy was caught not just because Ian was powerful enough.
"You ponder this, really ponder this…" Ian truly did not expect to have a day like this, teaching a demon how to be a qualified demon.
"If you gather all the magic power originating from this Ancient God, does it mean that at that moment, your bloodline would be infinitely close to this Ancient God's state?"
"For such a vessel, if She is not tempted, I would be." Ian's analysis was indeed not without reason. These words immediately made the black-robed demon look terrified.
"No… it should not be, right?"
The black-robed demon's heart was in turmoil, but he was still unwilling to admit this point. There was no way around it, admitting that this speculation might be true would not prove he was an idiot?
This clearly meant that his reincarnation had put him in a huge trap!
"Fine, sometimes being stupid is better. I understand you. Ostrich, I am familiar with that." Ian clapped his hands, his mood somewhat stabilized, after all, he had just learned new knowledge.
"Yes, yes, I am an ostrich."
The black-robed demon did not dare to object. He watched Ian looking around, and a sense of unease rose in his heart. "I have told you everything I know."
He hoped Ian would acknowledge the value he provided.
"Is that really everything?"
Ian looked suspiciously at the bound demon.
"I swear on the name of my father, Crowley! It is truly everything!" The demon nodded frantically, the iron frame clattering. He really did not seem particularly smart.
It seemed he watched too few gangster movies when he was young.
Did Hell not have televisions?
"Alright."
Ian also showed a smile.
The demon squeezed out a flattering smile, showing his sharp teeth.
"So. are we good now?"
He carefully probed, but then he saw Ian coming from not far away, holding a kitchen knife and a paint bucket, and adjusting his posture so that he was hanging upside down.
"You said we were good, brother!"
The demon, whose eyelids were twitching wildly, forced a smile and frantically tried to get closer to Ian. However, this form of address only earned him a warning look from Ian.
"Who is your brother! Watch your mouth!" Ian spoke righteously. "The Ancestor pretended to reconcile with you, but that does not mean I, Ian, do not have a problem with you."
"Do you understand my family heritage? My family's tradition dictates that I have an irreconcilable conflict with evil creatures like you." Ian picked up a stone from the ground.
"Liar! Damn you! You tricked me!" The black-robed demon's face flushed like a pig's liver. Ian thought he was just congested with blood.
This was a demon.
How could he be so easily provoked?
Their brief interaction made Ian feel that this guy was not as petty as the Minotaur Demon.
"Let me go! Let me go!!" The black-robed demon began to struggle hard. However, his strength was exhausted, and his magic power was dormant after losing the book.
Still.
This did not stop the demon from twisting his body wildly with all his might. There was no way around it. If he did not move now, even if he was truly stupid, the black-robed demon had already realized what he was about to face.
The reflection of Ian sharpening the knife had been imprinted in his pupils.
"Do not worry. My Father taught me what mercy is." Ian fiercely sharpened the knife, turning the kitchen knife he had bought at his own expense from the department store into a sharpness that even a butcher would praise.
This was true mercy.
The moment the kitchen knife was brought out, the demon's blood began to flow wildly. His skin also started to turn a sickly gray-white, and purple veins spread across his face like a spiderweb.
This was because the loss of vitality was causing him to revert to his distorted demonic true form.
The contamination of the human genes by the demon's life force was this severe. A smell of sulfur slowly spread. Ian elegantly held the iron bucket like a wine glass, collecting all the demon blood.
The demon blood was not red.
The Son of Hell's blood was thick and black, like crude oil.
It was clearly genuinely authentic fuel.
"No…"
The demon's screams gradually weakened.
Until a certain moment.
"Ssshh!"
A translucent soul broke free from the corpse, resembling a twisted monster with extremely ugly wings. Just as it was about to fly away, Ian, who had been expecting it, grabbed it.
"How is that possible?!"
The soul let out a piercing scream.
"I should not exist in the current world!"
He was at a loss for an explanation.
Amidst the frantic roar.
Ian had already pulled out the ancient pendant. Indeed, the soul of the Son of Hell was extraordinary. The Godfather finally responded to his brazen devotee once again.
"Whoosh—"
The soul of the Son of the Demon God was sucked into the pendant, and fine, blood-colored lines appeared on the pendant's surface, pulsating like blood vessels. After a moment, it provided Ian with a reward from the Death Knight.
A familiar crystal was spat out by the pendant.
"My godfather took the demon's soul as a toy. This is just a reward he chose for me from his dessert." Ian grabbed the crystal mid-air.
The familiar deliciousness.
Always had such an amazing texture.
It melted in his mouth.
Power immediately filled Ian's entire body.
[Name: Ian Kent]
[Normal Profession: Student LV7 (586/640) Writer LV1 (7/10)]
[Supernatural Profession: Berserker LV4 (69/80) Savage Tyrant LV3 (7/40)]
[World Recognition: Independent NPC]
[Talents: Reverse Blood Furnace, Perfect Divinity]
[Professional Skills: Healing Frenzy, Iron Body, Solar Eye.]
[Professional Skill Points: Berserker (3) Savage Tyrant (1)]
[General Skills: Ian Kent's Defensive Art (Beginner) Study (Elite)]
[General Skill Points: 7]
[Strength: 23 → 26]
[Constitution: 44 → 44.3]
[Intelligence: 3.3 → 3.5]
[Spirit: 7.9 → 21]
…
It was still that familiar feeling, still focused on the spiritual aspect. It had to be said that the title of Son of Hell might indeed have some value.
This was significantly more potent than the [Spirit] increase brought by the Demon God's clone!
Far exceeding Ian's estimation!
"I got stronger again! But I still have not gone bald!" Ian subconsciously touched the top of his head. He had indeed not lost any hair. He could feel his eyes becoming even more powerful.
Even the slight temporary decrease in vision caused by the continuous use of the Solar Eye was immediately restored. Ian did not even need to use the [Healing Frenzy] skill, which consumes fat reserves.
It was not just that the duration of skill use could be significantly longer.
[Solar Eye: Eyes can release high-intensity laser beams. Continuous use will cause temporary visual impairment. The intensity of the laser beam depends on the user's Spirit attribute.]
Even the effect of using this skill had definitely received an epic upgrade. With a proper round-up, the intensity was easily three times what it was before.
"Too bad, there is no place for me to use it." Ian looked regretfully at the upside-down corpse that was completely decayed and had revealed full demonic characteristics.
The attribute increase was not the only benefit brought by the Son of Hell's soul. After checking his personal panel, Ian immediately noticed a change in his long list of status bars.
[Infernal Walker]
This was clearly the additional reward Ian received after sacrificing the Son of Hell.
It was listed side-by-side with [Death Knight's Devotee].
"So there can be such benefits! As expected of my generous godfather!" Ian did not inherit his father's Heat Vision out of thin air, but his eyes were indeed a little red now.
If the Son of Hell alone could bring an extra reward, how wonderful would it be if he captured and sacrificed the Son of Hell's father and other Demon Gods in Hell!
Unthinkable!
If he thought about it too much, Ian was afraid he would drill right into Hell!
He could literally drill now!
As long as he found a gate to Hell!
[Infernal Walker: You can freely travel between the mortal world and Hell without cost.] Yes, this was the brief introduction of the rare positive buff Ian had.
Short words.
Meant significant implications.
But for whom it was significant was a matter of subjective interpretation.
In any case, Ian was now sincerely grateful to his godfather and decided that every year on the anniversary of their meeting, he would set up a few tables of KFC as offerings for his godfather to smell.
"Luck is truly with me."
Ian was in an excellent mood. Holding the fuel bucket in one hand and the corpse, which had begun to twist back into its demonic form, in the other, he was about to call Madison to retreat.
Unexpectedly, Madison had already finished her selfie and trotted over happily.
"Ian, did you join some strange organization? The Monster Association? Why did a scrambled phone number with the note 'Gotham Freak' send you a message?"
"He told you to quickly send him the remaining manuscript in the agreed-upon way—it is not that I wanted to peek at your messages, I just happened to see it when the message came through."
Madison defended her already limited integrity.
It was meaningless.
"Read fewer Japanese mangas." Ian looked up at the sky. With his excellent eyesight, he could see the flying birds, but he was not yet at the level where he could see satellites in the sky.
"The Gotham Freak must be reminding me to hurry up and leave. It cannot be that the manuscript he took back was stolen again, right?" Ian quickly scanned the surroundings.
He pondered for a moment.
Then.
He temporarily put down his collection of materials, pulled out two imps from the bundled group of demon underlings, and snapped their necks without a second thought.
"Did you switch personalities again?"
Madison blinked, looking at the decisive Ian.
"Get lost."
Ian felt that Madison's cursing was always so vulgar. He did not actually have a split personality. It was just that for demons, a normal person would probably be as merciless as him.
"Watch closely and learn, this is wisdom." Ian calculated the positions, placing the two imps in the middle of the ruins, arranging them to look like they had killed each other.
Someone had to pay for the terrible condition of this area. For the instigator, Ian was willing to hand over two imps, which was truly considering the official personnel of Metropolis.
"A kind person! I truly live up to the name!" Ian grabbed the series of materials he had acquired, picked up the bucket, and ran away, not even letting Madison, who was still editing photos on Ian's phone, catch his coattails.
"Wait for me!"
Madison was not stupid either.
Knowing what she would face if she stayed there, she quickly jogged to catch up with Ian—they arrived outside the previous restaurant, and everyone around was still unconscious on the ground.
"This must be that demon, a trick he pulled using my magic book." Ian thoughtfully looked up at the sky. He did not see any sign of the Justice League. Since even Superman did not notice the abnormality in this street area, it was conceivable that the magic book currently tucked into his waistband was indeed not a simple item.
"Was that not the magic book you stole?"
Madison's mind was sometimes a bit rigid.
That was right.
If she were not rigid, she would not have waited so long on the playground yesterday.
"He is a time assassin, you do not understand. He stole my current magic book in the past." Ian's warped logic always sounded convincing. Madison felt she had learned a new principle.
"Oh."
She replied.
Watching Ian open the hood of a Dodge Hellcat and pull out three men from the engine bay, Madison was only surprised that Ian actually had a car. The afterglow of the setting sun stained the parking lot orange-red, and the Hellcat's black paint shimmered with a strange metallic sheen in the light.
"You actually have a car? And such a new one of this caliber?" Madison circled the car. Her thought process was sometimes even more jumpy than Ian's.
"You are so rich, yet you only bought me one orange!?"
Madison was still holding the orange. After all, it was an orange she had worked hard to wait for, so it was treated with much more importance than one bought with money, even if the orange looked spoiled.
"Right! The most important thing is that this orange has grown green mold!"
Madison took out the orange and waved it in front of Ian.
"Nonsense! I only bought that orange yesterday!" Ian glanced at it. It seemed there was indeed some green fuzz on the orange. "That is fruit bloom. You probably have never eaten blueberries."
He could always find a new excuse.
However.
This time, he could not fool Madison.
"You are the one talking nonsense! What kind of fruit bloom is on an orange… if it really is fruit bloom, take a bite and show me." Girls loved eating fruit, so they had a fair amount of common sense in this area.
"You touched it. I am not eating it."
Ian shoved all the demons into the trunk—the average trunk could not fit them, but his small car was not average. It could fit as many as he wanted in the trunk.
"Do you know your arm is bleeding?" Ian saw Madison just standing there, with a puddle of blood dripping onto the ground near her feet. He suspected that the girl was deliberately self-harming to take better photos.
Some people could do such things.
"I was accidentally scratched by a street lamp… damn it, I clearly licked it a few times." Madison could not stand Ian's suspicion. She belatedly covered her wound.
"It is fine. I have a bandage."
Ian opened the passenger car door and took out the leftover sanitary pads he used.
"Wait, can this stop the bleeding?" Madison questioned, her expression utterly bewildered. She did not even understand why Ian had such things in his car.
"This is a nighttime model, super absorbent. I have tested it." Ian answered seriously, even helping to tear open the "bandage." This action made Madison feel that her desk mate was both perverse and caring.
"I will do it myself."
Madison weighed her options for a moment and chose to refuse, licking her wound twice more—this time, her intermittent witch power actually worked.
The wound healed rapidly.
It was even faster than Ian's low-level healing skill.
"What a pity."
Ian looked at the opened sanitary pad in his hand. Based on the spirit of frugality, he still tucked it back into the packaging bag and gave the whole bag to Madison.
"Use it when your time of the month comes. Then you will know I was right." Ian still wanted to prove he was not lying.
"…"
Madison was rendered speechless.
"Oh, and these. I do not think I will use them. I bought too many when I was stopping my pet's bleeding." Ian gave all the remaining dozens of sanitary pads to Madison.
"Wait, are you saying…?" Looking at the cleaning supplies she could not even hold, Madison really wanted to ask if Ian's pet was a female elephant!
"Oh, this is my pet, and also my car entertainment system." To prove he was not a pervert, Ian took out the demon head from his backpack.
The Minotaur Demon's status in Ian's heart was rising along with its usefulness.
"Is this also a demon?"
Madison asked cautiously, afraid of exposing her lack of knowledge.
"Yes."
Ian answered while stopping the orange cat from trying to escape. Watching Ian hold a playing-dead demon head under his armpit, Madison opened her mouth but could not utter a single comment for a long time.
"Oh, this insane world. I better go home and calm down with some nightmares." Madison scratched her hair and was about to climb into the passenger seat. However, just as she leaned in, Ian grabbed her and threw her into the back seat like a helpless kitten.
"Were you trying to put me in the trunk too?" The blonde girl, with her messy hair, was stunned. She hugged the orange cat, which Ian had thrown into the car the same way moments earlier.
"Sorry, force of habit."
Ian would apologize when he should. He lifted the fuel bucket to the side of the Hellcat and began pouring the high-grade demon blood into the Hellcat's fuel tank.
It had to be said.
High-grade fuel was different. The Hellcat made a satisfied "gurgling" sound. The patterns on the car's surface began to writhe and change, and ancient, mysterious runes appeared.
"This pure blood! Did you slaughter a Son of a Demon lord?!" The demon head stopped playing dead. Under Ian's armpit, it had actually felt the aura of the killed high-level demon long ago.
It was precisely because of its trembling heart.
That it chose to play dead.
"It is fine. You can have some, too. Eat it all before I get home. If my mother finds a single drop of blood, you are dead." Ian threw his Abyss Demon Bucket into the trunk.
He had his own ideas.
[Ian's Magic Book] sounded very good, but Ian did not intend to provide magic power himself, so he needed the demon, who only had a head left, to become stronger.
Ian, who remembered how tricky DC magic was, was cautious enough.
The Minotaur Demon clearly was not.
"Do not worry! I am best at destroying corpses and erasing traces! Look! This pure demon blood and the residual aura of a Demon Lord's Son! I feel my status is about to advance!"
After being thrown into the trunk, the Minotaur immediately became extremely excited and began to wildly devour the corpses, completely unaware of Ian's intentions. It was normal. The fact that it had a bull's head instead of a smarter head was clearly not without reason.
"Eat, eat, eat more, and get stronger!"
Ian was also extremely happy. At this moment, he had already planned what kind of great magic he would have this demon help him provide magic power for, and what kind of amazing talent he would create.
It would absolutely be truly great!
"Um…" Madison tapped on the window at this moment. "Ian, your car is on fire. Do I really not need to get out? I feel like the color of the fire is not quite right."
Madison hugged the cat.
Trying her best to act as if she had seen a lot.
"A Hellcat, of course, spits Hellfire. It is normal." Ian patiently explained. And so, the easily alarmed Madison suddenly realized, once again feeling an increase in her knowledge.
She felt she was quite capable of learning, too.
She just had not learned the right knowledge in school before.
Seeing Madison's attitude.
Ian was quite approving of those who humbly accepted instruction.
"Do not worry, little punk. Although your power level is not high, as long as you rest assured and be my sidekick, when I die, I will leave this car to you."
"Also, the position of Supreme Sorcerer, passed on to me by my mentor, Tony Stark, will also be yours. It sounds much better than Supreme Witch."
"Just shave your head, and you will definitely get stronger."
Ian felt his manipulation skills were becoming more and more proficient.
Madison was not a fighter.
But she looked like a super healer.
A scarce resource.
Even if he did not need her, he had to pull her into his team.
"Uh… never mind the bald head… by the sound of you, I feel like you are very confident that you will definitely die after me?" Madison knew Ian quite well.
"Nonsense!"
Lies would not hurt people.
But the truth would definitely make the sound of someone closing the passenger car door very loud.
"No! Why is it driving itself! Holy cow!!" Even though she tried her best to hide her big-chested, brainless nature, Madison was still startled by the Hellcat, which started instantly.
"This is a new energy vehicle. Of course, it drives itself." Ian did not look back. His answer gave Madison another gain of knowledge. She swallowed hard and seriously made a mental note of the knowledge point.
Perhaps it was drunk with power.
The Hellcat was playing very loud music.
"Do not play music. I am thinking." Ian manually turned off the Hellcat's radio. He was looking at the compass in his hand—Miss Death's compass still pointed in an unknown direction.
It did not point to the heavy magic book in Ian's hand.
"It is not this, then."
Ian stroked his chin, unable to figure out what Miss Death wanted him to find. At this moment, Madison, who found the Hellcat driving faster and faster and then taking off, was extremely nervous.
She desperately hugged the cat in her arms. To divert the topic, she started talking to Ian. "I think your previous Ancestor persona is not arrogant enough."
"It needs a little more sense of vulgarity." Madison's tone was certain. The easiest thing to make this mean girl relax was, of course, something related to her beloved profession.
Ian, who was originally deep in thought, immediately became interested. "Hmm? That demon died, but I did not even ask his name. Was my performance not vulgar enough?"
He felt he was already very vulgar.
"Not enough. The character in your comic is the same. They all lack genuine recklessness." Madison's voice was firm. Desk mates really influenced each other like this.
"Perhaps you are right. He mocked me so much, yet I did not feel my moral baseline drop at all—it seems my personal quality is too high."
Ian was reflecting.
He looked thoughtfully at his [Perfect Divinity] buff.
The toad was moving.
He punched the toad.
The car gradually flew further away.
About ten minutes later.
The unconscious crowd on the street began to wake up one after another.
People looked around blankly. Some tried to call the police but found their phones were missing. In the chaos, a woman wearing a black veil silently appeared at the fast-food restaurant entrance.
"Something seems to have happened on that street." A waiter rubbed his temples and walked over. "I am sorry, guest, but we may have to suspend business today."
"Everyone fainted. Maybe the military is experimenting with poison gas on the public. This behavior is simply heinous…" The waiter seemed to be a conspiracy theorist.
The veiled woman was not interested in this.
She merely raised her pale finger and pressed it against the waiter's temple. The next moment, the waiter's eyes became empty, and his memory seemed to be being read.
"Hmm?"
A moment later.
The woman withdrew her finger.
She immediately closed her eyes and used some kind of ability—everyone in the restaurant showed a hollow expression. As she read their memories, the woman's expression beneath the veil became extremely solemn.
"This cannot be right!"
A gasp of surprise.
By the time the waiter came to his senses, the woman had already disappeared. Five minutes later, in a dark alley, the veiled woman who had mysteriously disappeared took out her phone and dialed a number.
"Mother, I…"
She began to tell the person on the other end of the phone the ridiculous information she had pieced together after another round of investigation. It was indeed ridiculous, and the person on the other end of the phone was silent for a long time.
"You mean to say, our prospective witch hired a powerful exorcist for eight hundred US dollars, who disposed of a Son of a Demon King before we even reacted?"
"And this human was not consumed by that book?" The old, hoarse voice sounded very strange. If the person calling was not her daughter, she would definitely think the other party was playing a trick on her.
Well.
It was normal for the old voice to think that way. After all, the situation described by the veiled woman would feel abnormal to anyone with normal logical thinking.
How to describe it?
It was practically as absurd as a street gang fight where one side found Darkseid to be their hired thug. The veiled woman tried her best to explain to her mother that she had checked repeatedly.
She was very panicked.
No one knew the woman on the other end of the phone better than her.
The Supreme Witch.
Was a terrifying existence that even she, as her daughter, feared.
"Do not worry, my child. Come back first… I naturally believe you. After all, there are many things in this world that cannot be explained but truly happen before our eyes."
The Supreme Witch Fiona's voice quickly calmed down after the initial emotional fluctuation.
"Yes, Mother."
The relieved veiled woman Cordelia Fox gently brushed her pale fingers across the ancient bricks of the wall. With a faint, almost inaudible sound, her figure vanished as if it were chalk drawn and erased.
She instantly disappeared from where she stood.
This was the Teleportation magic, one of the Seven Wonders the demon had spoken of. When she reappeared, the veiled woman stood beneath the stained-glass window of a Gothic church.
Several witch apprentices were wiping candelabras. Seeing the veiled woman, they immediately bowed their heads in greeting.
"Principal Fox."
These witch apprentices were extremely respectful.
"Good afternoon."
The veiled woman, Cordelia Fox, gave a perfunctory reply. Her robes swept across the cold marble floor as she quickly walked towards her office.
However, she did not enter the office.
Instead, she stopped in the empty corridor, in front of the broken statue of the Virgin Mary. Cordelia placed her palm on it, and the stone statue rumbled dully before slowly moving aside.
An secret passage was revealed behind the statue.
It was a deep spiral staircase. The damp smell of mold mixed with the scent of herbs rushed out.
"I hope Mother has not acted yet." Cordelia lifted her skirt and descended the stairs step by step. Candles automatically lit up with greenish-blue flames as she passed.
In the center of the basement.
A hunched figure stood with their back to the entrance.
"Mother."
Cordelia called softly.
Her demeanor was cautious.
"Wait for me to finish thinking. I want to examine your memories." The Supreme Witch Fiona's voice was hoarse and somewhat weak. She did not turn around but kept gazing at the enormous glass sphere in front of her.
The sphere was filled with dark, viscous liquid, with occasional faint blue light spots swimming inside, like fireflies trapped, and a man trapped inside them, who was just as pitiful. He was a pale, thin man with long, messy hair, curled up like a fetus in a womb.
"This god who fell into the mortal world… how should I seize his supreme power?" The Supreme Witch murmured. She seemed to be pondering the same question every day.
***
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