American comic book: My Father is Superman, am I just an NPC?

Chapter 13 turns out to be DC's jinx.

The car sped through the streets like a wild horse, the roar of its engine deafening, like the howling of an angry beast, but not quite the same as the howling of someone who seemed to be running out of breath and about to collapse.

Not only did he feel threatened and worried, but along the way, the crazy taxi also frightened many passersby, with all sorts of offensive words being muffledly heard inside the car.

However, the vocabulary he used was not rich, and it was just a few curse words over and over again. Ian simply didn't have time to teach the people of America practical vulgar language.

"Handbrake! Handbrake!" Ian leaned half his body into the driver's seat, his fingers trying to grasp the lever that was being protected, but he didn't dare to actually let his hand touch the lever.

He was really afraid of the car overturning.

This is a struggle with acting skills.

Fortunately, taxi drivers don't have much of a knack for distinguishing between these things.

"Go back and sit down! You want to die, but I don't! Please! Trust my driving skills!" The taxi driver panicked, his forehead covered in beads of sweat.

Large beads of sweat rolled down his cheeks, but he didn't slow down or stop. This guy was stubborn; he saw Ian still lurching towards his handbrake.

"Don't blame me! I'll pay for the medical expenses!"

Instead, he grabbed a thermos and smashed it over Ian's head as he leaned in.

It was obvious they wanted to throw Ian back into the back seat.

Berserker Class Experience +1

It didn't cause Ian any damage; it was the effect of the "upgraded pendant" continuously "draining health," which coincidentally gave Ian a little bit of professional experience at this moment.

But Ian wasn't in the mood for happiness at that moment.

"Don't you want to die! Why the hell don't you step on the brakes!" Ian gripped the headrests on both sides of the front seat tightly, his tone annoyed. He wasn't usually someone who got angry easily.

He yelled at Ian.

The driver remained silent, holding the steering wheel with one hand and gripping the stainless steel thermos with the other, smashing it wildly backward. Even after Ian pulled back, he continued smashing the air.

just in case.

"This is a matter of life and death!"

The driver roared and slammed on the gas pedal again. The scenery outside the car began to blur, the speedometer needle trembled as it approached 250, and the car body began to emit an ominous metallic groan.

"Hmm? Should I look back at my skin color again? Doesn't my life matter?" Ian finally gave up struggling and could only helplessly hide behind the driver's seat.

He gripped the metal railing on the headrest of the seat in front of him tightly with both hands.

to be frank.

Ian was genuinely nervous.

He only regretted not carrying a helmet with him when he went out. As long as his head didn't shatter, he could use his skills to heal his broken body.

of course.

Despite the tension, Ian didn't completely panic. After all, as a second-generation male, he still had one last trump card: to scream at the top of his lungs, "Dad, save me!"

I believe it will be at superhuman speed.

They could definitely rescue him before he was torn to pieces. To be honest, Ian hadn't felt this way before; now he just felt grateful that his father was truly alive.

He is a man who can truly stand tall in the sky on Earth.

"I'm definitely going to file a complaint against you, and then your license will definitely be revoked!" Ian got angrier and angrier, gritting his teeth. He just felt that this taxi driver must be out of his mind.

They might have smuggled themselves in from nearby Gotham City.

"Laughable, I don't even have a license!" The taxi driver kept waving his thermos cup, tapping the air repeatedly, clearly afraid that Ian would take advantage of his relaxed guard to launch a sneak attack.

"..."

Ian was stunned by those words, unable to understand why he was so unlucky. Under his gaze, the taxi seemed to be playing a single-player version of GTA.

Drifting through a corner?

Basic operations.

He leaped over a gap in the unfinished bridge, sparks flying from his chassis, and narrowly missed the rear of a tanker truck, his rearview mirror shattering into countless fragments with a "crack".

"Damn it! Are you filming Fast and Furious?"

Ian's face turned deathly pale.

Several times, I almost couldn't help but shout for help. The taxi driver, in his reckless descent, performed a series of high-stakes maneuvers, crashing out of the city and into a suburban farm.

The weather here is completely different from that in the city.

The city was sunny and bright, but here the sky was overcast and dark, as if it were already late at night, and a gloomy atmosphere enveloped the entire farm.

Ian sensed an ominous aura.

"Where have you taken me?"

Ian was wondering if this place might be a shady den for groceries.

And in response to his loud questioning.

The taxi driver ignored him. "Kid! Buckle up!" he shouted to Ian, then drove his taxi straight into a wooden house.

of course.

At this point, he had already started to apply the brakes.

"Boom!"

With a loud bang.

The taxi finally stopped inside the house.

The front of the car was completely deformed, the windshield was shattered, and the hood popped up with a bang after the car came to a stop, with black smoke hissing out from inside.

"Constantine, are you still alive?" The driver forced open the deformed car door, crawled out of the car, and ran quickly to the back seat while shouting into the house.

He wanted to check on Ian, the high school student.

at this time.

"If you had been any later, you could have been collecting my corpse!" A man in a beige trench coat emerged from the shadows of the ruins. His blond hair was disheveled, and there was a conspicuous bloodstain at the corner of his mouth.

“Charles, when I said I was going to die, I meant it literally, you understand?”

He was questioning loudly.

However, the taxi driver Charles did not respond. He yanked open the back door and leaned inside, but he did not find the extraordinary high school student in the back seat.

"What about people?"

Taxi driver Charles looked blank.

"who?"

Constantine, the man in the trench coat, walked over with a frown.

"It was just here!" Charles reluctantly climbed into the car and searched everywhere, but couldn't find a single hair. A chill ran down his spine.

Could it be that I really did encounter a ghost in broad daylight?

"Here." Just as the driver was at a loss, a hand slowly emerged from the collapsed bricks in front of the car, and a childish voice weakly rang out.

Seeing this, Charles rushed forward and helped Ian free himself from the debris. After checking him over, he found that the little boy was just disheveled and a bit unkempt.

"You're really fucking weird! Didn't I tell you to fasten your seatbelt?!" Charles first let out a long sigh of relief, then questioned loudly with extreme fear in his voice.

"Ok?"

Ian, the victim, was furious. "Can't you go check your car yourself? Feel around in that piece of junk and see if there are any seatbelts in the back!"

Hear the words.

Charles simply went silent.

"I might have missed it during the annual inspection... Uh, okay, I never had it inspected last year." He was clearly a little guilty and answered in a low voice, lacking confidence.

"..."

Ian was completely at a loss for words. Considering that the other party didn't even have the qualifications to operate, this situation didn't seem too surprising.

Ian, who was both thinking and getting angry, was just about to throw a punch.

"Charles! How could you bring a child to such a dangerous place! That demon hasn't been dealt with yet!" A voice full of surprise and doubt suddenly came.

Ian looked over.

A disheveled man in a trench coat ran towards him, his face contorted with shock and anger. If he wasn't mistaken, this man was none other than Constantine, the infamous DC conman? And the taxi driver he'd hailed was Constantine's companion? Ah! He'd figured it out! No wonder his bad luck had been so severe ever since he met the driver!

This is truly a jinx!
“We have to take this child away from here!” Constantine was unaware of Ian’s thoughts; he simply stared at Ian, his voice trembling with fear.

Done.

The man grabbed Ian and tried to run towards the front door.

however.

"Ok?"

Constantine found it strange that he couldn't move a person who was about 1.6 meters tall.

"What's going on with this guy?"

Before Constantine could react...

Suddenly, a crisp sound of wood breaking came from the second floor.

His expression changed.

next moment.

"Eat! Eat! Eat! Delicious little kid!"

Accompanied by a chilling laugh, a dark figure with a ferocious face shot down from the dimly lit second floor like lightning, rushing towards Ian with thick black smoke billowing from it.

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(End of this chapter)