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

Chapter 18 That Year, That Night, That Shooting Star

A strange, eerie wind swept by.

Nothing happened.

It was just an ordinary student ID that disappeared. However, this was enough to send chills down one's spine, especially for those who deal with supernatural events every day; the thought of it was truly terrifying.

"????"

Charles was startled and instinctively looked around a few times, but found nothing. He turned to Constantine with some doubt.

"what happened?"

Charles knew very well that the strong winds just now were definitely not caused by natural factors.

"Goo~"

Constantine stared blankly at his empty hand, his eyes twitching violently. He rubbed his hand, as if still savoring the feeling from just now.

"This is……"

Constantine was perfectly aware that someone had taken the card from his hand.

Such speed!

Who is this special person?
Or is it a demon from hell?

No, some of his defensive mechanisms hadn't been triggered, so it probably wasn't a malicious attack... Thinking this, he seemed to realize something.

"No! That brat!"

Constantine suddenly ran to the second-floor window. He first glanced at the farmland outside but found nothing. Then, somewhat puzzled, he looked up at the sky.

This guy's real intention was just to check the weather.

however.

He really did stumble upon a stroke of great luck.

I saw.

The dark clouds have slowly dissipated along with the binding of the evil spirit.

The sky was a golden expanse.

Constantine could vaguely see a figure looming above, looking down in a certain direction—the very direction in which the taxi had veered and disappeared along the way.

He was immediately shocked, and his pupils contracted several times.

"Charles."

Constantine swallowed hard.

The voice was serious.

"what?"

Charles was clearly still completely confused, and he kept searching the cabin for suspicious people.

"you are done."

Constantine turned to look at his friend, then stuck his head out to look at the sky. Sensing a warning gaze, he immediately shrank back into the house.

"What do you mean? My car is gone?" Charles felt Constantine was very confused. He didn't find any evil spirits or supernatural beings hiding in the cabin.

"Forget about your car, you've gotten yourself into big trouble." Constantine wiped the sweat from his forehead; he was even finding it hard to maintain his composure.

"what?"

Charles was completely stunned upon hearing this.

“That kid has connections; I think he’ll definitely report you.” Constantine swallowed hard, as if he had already figured out the eccentric high school student’s personality.

"Is he protected by angels?"

Charles used his imagination.

"It's much scarier than that."

Constantine peered out the window, hesitant to look, wanting to make sure he wasn't seeing things, but ultimately decided to retreat completely back into the cabin.

"What are you talking about?" Charles thought Constantine was like a riddle-maker who should be skinned swallows, but that didn't stop him from being quite shocked when he heard this.

More terrifying than angels?
What kind of background must that be!

"God's protecting us?" "No, why am I the one who's going to be in big trouble? Why aren't we both going to be in big trouble?" Charles seized on the crux of the matter, and once again felt Constantine's shamelessness.

That's incredibly fast to distance yourself from them!
He stared speechlessly at his old friend, while Constantine's shameless behavior continued.

“I’m not the one who abducts underage children. I’m just a passerby in the metropolis. Tomorrow… no, right now I’ll leave the metropolis overnight.”

talking.

Constantine started packing his things, completely forgetting about burying the poor woman in the house. To be fair, he really got away very quickly.

Constantine slapped a talisman on a door inside the room, and after entering, he vanished without a trace. At this point, Charles, who was still dumbfounded, had not yet recovered from his astonishment.

"My car..."

He was still heartbroken over his most valuable possession.

Charles was simply used to Constantine's actions. It was the same old "betrayal"; after dying a few more times, he wouldn't feel so angry at Constantine anymore.

……

The setting sun sank below the city skyline, bathing the streets in a dark orange hue. Ian's taxi pulled over to the side of the road, not because he had reached his destination, but because he had encountered a traffic cop.

"Please get out of the car and show me your driver's license." The traffic policeman's eyes were filled with professional vigilance, and his expression became even more serious when he saw the incredibly young Ian in the driver's seat.

no way.

Who could blame them when this taxi looked like it had just been the victim of a road bullying incident, and Ian looked too young for a teenager to be qualified to take a driving test?

"Here it is."

Ian pushed open the deformed car door with force, got out, and calmly pulled out a worn-out document holder. He casually waved the document in front of the traffic police a few times.

high speed.

It's dazzling.

He then put the documents back into his pocket.

"Just give it to me, I didn't see it clearly."

The traffic policeman frowned, his gaze full of suspicion.

"Officer, you probably don't like doing eye exercises when you get up in the morning." Ian took out his ID again and handed it directly to the traffic policeman, who then carefully checked it.

Of course, all of the above is false information.

but.

Yet it was convincing enough to pass for the real thing—the reason, of course, was not that Ian majored in forging documents, but that he had "picked up" this little gadget from Constantine before leaving the cabin.

Psychic cards.

Being able to show others the appropriate identification is a very useful little magical gadget—Ian actually realized that Constantine had taken his student ID from him.

However, he didn't make a fuss. Instead, he respected the law of conservation of matter, enhanced Lavoisier's value, and chose to transfer some of the matter from Constantine to himself.

"Are you nineteen?"

The traffic police officer carefully examined the documents for several minutes but found nothing wrong with them. However, he still harbored doubts about Ian; in his opinion, the boy in front of him was at most fifteen or sixteen years old.

"Yes, everyone says I have a baby face."

Ian really doesn't blink when he lies.

"Ok?"

The traffic police officer remained noncommittal, his gaze shifting back and forth between the documents in his hand and Ian's face. Finally, with a slightly strange expression, he returned the documents to Ian's hand.

What's wrong with your car?

The traffic police looked at the taxi; the front of the car was in a truly appalling state.

"that is……"

While Ian was still having a sudden inspiration, the car, which had stopped, began to slowly slide forward, faster and faster, and then crashed into the fire hydrant with a loud bang.

"Yes, that's how it got damaged."

It really is God helping to come up with a reason, at least that's what Ian thought.

(End of this chapter)