Honestly, if Rachel had not pointed it out, Ian really might have forgotten that his head was still on fire.
Mostly because the system constantly flashing [EXP +1] was the kind of feedback that could easily give a person temporary memory loss.
"Sorry. That explains why Mr. White looked so terrified just now. He must've thought I was the real Ghost Rider. Personally, though, I think I look more like the invincible Zoffy."
Ian walked over to the sink that had been overflowing for a while now, a little reluctant.
Water poured out like a spring.
Unfortunately, it could not put out hellfire.
"Sigh."
Seeing that, Rachel's expression turned complicated.
She raised a hand and helped him out.
She had a wide range of abilities.
With a single move, she extinguished every trace of hellfire on Ian's head.
"Thanks."
Ian immediately felt much cooler. He activated his healing ability, and his hair began growing back at a ridiculous speed. Even the slight damage to his face vanished, leaving his skin smooth and fresh again.
The kind of smoothness that would make Deadpool insanely jealous.
"General MacArthur once said that if someone helps you, you should buy them Häagen-Dazs. So at this point, you only owe me nine Häagen-Dazs."
Ian felt refreshed again.
That did not mean he had stopped wanting free ice cream.
Rachel, or Raven, did not respond.
"Your ability is impressive..."
Rachel had personally seen Ian's healing. Her eyes flickered slightly. After hesitating for a moment, she carefully asked, "Is your personality a side effect of your powers?"
She said it in a particularly tactful way. It was obvious she was already pushing her communication skills to their absolute limit.
"You mean the part where I'm just naturally lovable? A lot of girls say that."
Ian understood perfectly well what she meant. He did have superior intelligence, after all. So he spread his hands with a helpless look and answered, "Honestly, it causes me a lot of trouble too. Every day when I get to school, I have to throw away a desk full of love letters."
He was actually telling the truth.
Rachel, however, looked like she wanted to say something and then thought better of it.
She was honestly a little impressed by the adaptability of the girls at this school.
"What are you doing?" Rachel watched Ian rummage through the ruined classroom and mix together a few chemicals. She could not help feeling confused by what he was doing.
"Obviously I'm destroying evidence. Mr. White taught me this. He always thought I'd end up going to college in Gotham."
Ian gave the thermos in his pocket a little shake.
That class was when he first realized Mr. White was an incredible chemist.
...
Rachel found that she was not even surprised by that.
She silently watched Ian pour the mixture over the demon's rotting green remains, then turn around and offer her a serious little reminder.
"A demon contaminated by my spit has already lost all culinary value."
When the chemical mixture failed to do anything, Ian could only sigh to himself in disappointment. Chemistry, once again, had proven to have limits.
"No one wants to eat a creature from Hell. Except you."
Rachel's voice was as flat as a heart monitor. She raised a hand, and crimson energy poured down like a waterfall.
The demon's remains instantly turned to ash.
"Yeah, magic really is more useful."
Ian looked openly envious. He wanted to switch classes and become a mage too. The only question was whether the Marvel world might have Doctor Strange's corpse lying around somewhere.
Magic in the DC Universe came with way too high a price.
Not worth learning.
Mostly because he had not found any place to learn it without getting scammed.
"You don't know magic?"
Rachel sounded genuinely confused.
She strongly suspected Ian was also the illegitimate child of some major demon lord. Only demons liked devouring demons, and the reaper's attitude toward him earlier had already suggested there was something very unusual about his background.
"I will. I will. Once I learn a light spell, I'll officially be a qualified mage."
Ian found a rag and started wiping down every spot in the classroom he had touched.
"You should be grateful our school doesn't have cameras."
He said it with absolute certainty, addressing the girl behind him.
"How do you know that?"
Rachel sounded mildly surprised.
"The principal occasionally hires me to help her report her illegal income for tax purposes, so I happen to know that five dollars only buys cheap plastic dummy cameras. I don't get full scholarships every year just because I'm the best student."
"This is the principal's way of giving back to me."
That answer left the mentally resilient girl in silence yet again. She had a hard time imagining that these were the kinds of things a fourteen-year-old boy should be doing.
"Gotham really does deserve you."
After a long pause, Rachel finally gave Ian what was honestly very high praise.
"I'm not actually going to Gotham. The Joker lives there. He's just a tiny bit scarier than Batman."
Ian did not dislike Mr. Wayne, since the man was basically his biggest patron.
But as a normal person,
being deeply wary of Gotham's real lunatics was only reasonable.
"That makes sense. In a limited survival space, members of the same species kill each other. That's a law of nature. I understand you."
The deadpan girl said it without the slightest expression.
Her tone did not change at all, yet somehow it hit hard.
"Are you serious?"
Ian was starting to think the girl in front of him should maybe also see Dr. Hannibal about her brain.
Right then,
WEE-OOO, WEE-OOO.
The harsh sound of sirens suddenly blared from downstairs.
"We need to leave."
Rachel stood by the window and looked down. Police cars and fire trucks had arrived on campus. She turned to look at Ian, who was still carefully wiping down every possible surface that might have fingerprints on it.
"Relax."
Ian was not worried at all.
"Before we leave, the firefighters and cops definitely won't come upstairs. That's tradition."
He sounded utterly certain. This was a scientific conclusion based on his own careful study and research.
"So you're saying they're incompetent?"
Rachel was just about ready to agree.
But then Ian shook his head slightly.
"No, no, no. I'm actually complimenting them for being smart. People only do the amount of work their paycheck justifies. You need real intelligence to survive an internship in Metropolis."
"Of course, Gotham's worse. In Gotham, everything comes down to luck and whether you stay alive."
Ian had complete faith in statistical data.
...
Rachel had no answer to that.
She kind of wanted to argue.
And yet, somehow, Ian's logic really did make sense.
Reality even proved him right. Ian kept cleaning for another two minutes, and not a single footstep sounded in the hallway outside.
"Done!"
Ian set the rag on fire and burned it completely. He obviously did not know how to stage a perfect cleanup, but being cautious never hurt. Fewer mistakes were always better.
"Can you fly? I heard that demon call you Raven earlier."
Ian stared at Rachel's back, then her hair, with a level of focus she found difficult to understand.
"I'm not Superman, but..."
Rachel took a deep breath, then, sounding slightly helpless, extended a hand toward him.
"I think I have a better way to get us out of here than flying."
She watched as Ian, clearly curious, put his hand in hers.
The next second,
her teleportation and dimensional travel ability activated.
The two of them vanished instantly from the empty classroom.
And, just as Ian's science had predicted, the police and firefighters only began arriving upstairs not long after they were already gone.
Really,
what else could you call that but a superpower?
(End of Chapter)
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