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

Chapter 92 What to do! This is cheating!?

It was 7:30 a.m.

The Kent family's old-fashioned grandfather clock chimed a dull thud.

Despite having stayed up all night, Master Yi was still full of energy. He walked downstairs while using a teething stick he had taken from the window. His T-shirt had the initials of "Super Large" printed on it.

Batman's toys are amazing. With just a little research into the mechanism, a gadget that can lock an entire window can be transformed into a long, portable object.

"It smells good."

The aroma of charred bacon wafted from the kitchen.

Jonathan Kent was busy in the kitchen.

Where are Mom and Dad?

Ian peeked around, looking everywhere.

"Thanks to Batman's adventure in Metropolis, none of them came back last night. They just called me and told me to keep an eye on you—they called me more than twenty times this morning."

"What have you done now?" Jonathan was still frying bacon in the kitchen. He was very curious about his parents' instructions. When he peeked out, he saw Ian taking something out of his pants.

“I’ve created a new round of GDP growth for Metropolis, you’re welcome?” Ian threw away the cushion he pulled out of his butt and pulled out another cushion from the front of his T-shirt.

Protective gear that is temporarily useless should be discarded.

"I didn't understand, but it sounded pretty impressive." Jonathan came out and served Ian a sandwich. He was usually the one who took care of his two younger brothers when the adults weren't around.

Ian grabbed the newspaper from the table, the headline of which, "Shocking! Gotham City Superheroes Become 'Street Ruffians' and Rescue Fallen Women in Metropolis!" stood out.

This did give Ian some pointers.

"dududu~"

Ian took out his phone and pressed the redial button.

The call is connected.

He spoke enthusiastically.

Good morning, sir. Are you up yet? If you're not up yet, you can go back to sleep. I just wanted to send you my sincerest greetings for the day.

Ian was still thinking about getting the lamp ring from Batman.

"dududu~"

The call was hung up.

The other party did not respond.

However, Ian didn't care about this. That's just how Gotham's freak is—reserved and understated in his emotions. Anyway, he's already established a connection with Gotham's freak for today, so that's fine.

then.

It was a greeting to his godfather.

And most importantly, he prayed to Miss Death. He was very polite, only connecting with Miss Death before meals to avoid being seen as a clingy, subservient man.

After his heartfelt outpouring, Ian received no response, which was unusual for him. Just when he thought Miss Death was still asleep, he opened his eyes to find a woman sitting opposite him.

Miss Death, dressed in a black tank top, sat demurely, her slender fingers tapping on the table. Sunlight filtered through her, casting a soft shadow on the floor.

"This isn't right, can't we do it again?" Ian rubbed his eyes incredulously, glancing at the colors around him and at Jonathan, who was busy in the kitchen.

Miss Death stared at the boy in front of her.

"I don't appear at any particular time; time itself stops."

What she said seemed to make sense, and Ian believed her.

“Well, mainly I think if Jonathan sees you, he’ll definitely think I was tricked by a bad woman last night.” Ian lowered his head shyly.

"?????"

Miss Death's lips twitched slightly.

"He can't see me."

The goddess, gritting her teeth, rolled her eyes wildly.

Just then, Jonathan poked his head out from the kitchen: "What are you muttering about?"

Of course, the older brother heard Ian's rambling; he didn't even need super hearing to notice it.

“But he can see you talking to yourself, like a madman,” the Goddess of Death added, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, as if she were ready to laugh at Ian at any moment.

however.

“It’s nothing, I’m just talking to my imaginary friends.” Ian remembered his father’s advice: Jonathan and Jordan were too old to grasp this extraordinary world.

Hear the words.

Jonathan nodded calmly.

"Oh, okay, then please give my regards to your friend." The gentle older brother didn't show any strangeness, and even made a look of sudden realization.

He returned to the stove in the kitchen and continued cooking.

"Does your family all have some kind of serious illness?" Miss Death was quite surprised to see this. She watched Ian take a sip of milk with a grin.

"That's my unwavering reputation at home."

Ian spoke with a sigh, a hint of melancholy in his voice.

"..."

Miss Death really wanted to ask Ian what he was so proud of, but she held back and got straight to the point, "I've sifted out a few useful pieces of information from your rambling."

"You mean that the shrinking of the multiverse's living space will lead to the demotion of those in higher positions, the overlap of ordinary life forms and souls, and ultimately the universe will collapse into ruins?"

She looked at Ian suspiciously and then summarized the contents of Ian's prayer.

"Yeah yeah."

Ian nodded.

"Hmm, an interesting speculation. So you're telling me that this kind of information, which I never even thought of, was all whispered in your ear by your super brain while you were sleeping?"

Miss Death raised an eyebrow.

"It's not near the ear, it's below the top of the head."

Ian corrected the other person's word choice, then nodded his little head again. His reply made Miss Death rub her temples involuntarily.

"To be honest, I'm starting to regret why I filled myself with such a rich amount of humanity not long ago." The goddess took a deep breath, her expression like that of someone who had swallowed a hedgehog whole.

"You have no super brain whatsoever... You rambling brat, I'll verify what you're saying, but until then, I hope you won't bother me three times a day!"

Done.

Miss Death snatched the sandwich from Ian's plate.

The person disappeared completely.

They didn't even leave Ian a single piece of lettuce.

"So she means I need to contact her at least four times a day?" Ian couldn't hold onto his breakfast, so he grabbed Jordan's.

People who wake up late should bear this burden. Ian has already reported everything that needed to be said. Whether the higher-ups take it seriously or not is no longer a concern for him, an independent NPC.

"Deng Deng Deng~"

sometimes.

Jordan is just so easy to nag about. Speaking of Jordan, Jordan appears. He came down the stairs rubbing his eyes, just as Jonathan came out of the kitchen to serve his two younger brothers fried eggs and potatoes.

"Why do you look so tired?" Jonathan asked Jordan with concern. His younger brother's dark circles reminded him of an animal called a raccoon.

"It's 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.

There weren't any major mood swings.

Just a food thief.

I'm used to it now.

Jordan watched Jonathan walk back into the kitchen. He looked at Ian, hesitated for a moment, and then said in a low voice, "Ian, something strange happened to me again yesterday."

He kept glancing towards the kitchen, as if he didn't want Jonathan to hear.

"What's weird?"

Ian was munching on a sandwich.

"I went back from your room last night... I, my eyes hurt... In the middle of the night, I think I saw Batman in my mom and dad's room doing something."

Jordan's tone was somewhat hesitant, "Maybe it's just my imagination? It seems... I do tend to hallucinate sometimes. Damn it, my browser is already recommending suitable coffins to me."

"Each one is so expensive."

His voice was even more desperate than it had been the night before.

only.

"What the hell!?"

Ian is always amazed by his second brother.

"You didn't leave your room? You didn't see anyone else? You only saw Batman?" he asked tentatively. His second brother, with his X-ray vision, had also awakened. He probably went back to his bedroom and disciplined himself severely!

If they're so worried about having a terminal illness, how can they still keep going after returning to their room?
"Yeah, I didn't leave the room, so I thought it was a hallucination, since there were only a few blurry images." Jordan rubbed his eyelids, trying hard to recall.

"Wow, you're the real Superman in Metropolis." Ian gave his second brother a thumbs up from the bottom of his heart. The fact that he could awaken superpowers one after another was certainly a special talent.

"Don't try to make fun of me, I really feel like my days are numbered." Jordan sighed deeply. He was now worried that after he kicked the bucket, Ian would actually test whether he could come back to life.

“I bet you’ll live, and live a very comfortable life. You should probably talk to your dad or mom about this,” Ian suggested, offering a suggestive suggestion.

"maybe."

I don't know if Jordan listened to me or not.

"I'm full, I have to go to school." Ian checked the time, put down his cutlery, wiped his mouth with a tissue, and then stuffed it into his backpack.

"It's Saturday today, what school do you go to?"

Jordan looked up in surprise, his face full of confusion and bewilderment.

“As long as you have school in your heart, you can go to school anytime.” Ian used a backup excuse; he actually had something else to do and needed to go out.

When the ostrich temporarily hides away from its returning parents, that's secondary. Whether it's cashing checks or taking Mr. White to buy chemicals, these are secrets he can't reveal.

"Should I give you a compliment? You're great!" Jordan asked with a worried expression, watching Ian sling his heavy backpack over his shoulder and head out the door. He began to eat his meal somewhat absentmindedly.

I've only taken a few bites.

"Bah bah bah!"

Then Jonathan's movements could be heard from the kitchen.

"This isn't protein powder!" Jonathan's voice was filled with surprise and uncertainty. Jordan hurriedly ran to the kitchen and saw Jonathan holding a glass of white liquid, examining it closely.

"what happened?"

Jordan first looked at Jonathan's full protein powder container, then walked to the trash can, and immediately solved the case: "It's the milk tea sweetener that Ian loves to add when he drinks coffee."

He rummaged through the trash can and found dozens of packaging bags.

The two older brothers stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“He probably forgot to buy you protein powder yesterday.” Jordan noticed the US dollars under the protein powder container and handed the money to Jonathan with a strange expression.

What could Jonathan say?

Based on emotion and reason.

He could only forgive his youngest brother.

"It's okay, saccharin is saccharin. Ian is probably just trying to help me build muscle." As it turns out, money really does work. Jonathan clutched the two hundred dollars and was incredibly understanding.

"Then you drink it."

Jordan stared at the cup Jonathan was holding in his other hand.

"I will drink it, but not now."

Jonathan was starting to lose his composure, but he remained defiant. Jordan, however, was too exhausted to tease his older brother anymore; he grabbed a bottle of ketchup and went back into the dining room.

"What is this?" Jordan noticed the teething toy that Ian had tossed aside after using it. He saw the bat symbol on it, and his pupils immediately contracted sharply.

"Am I hallucinating?"

A true super brain may indeed be awakening at a rapid pace.

News of Batman's arrival in Metropolis.

The scene I saw myself.

And then there was his mother's grumbling and flustered demeanor last night—everything seemed to connect perfectly, and Jordan gasped, feeling as if he had uncovered the truth.

"Between Batman and his mother..."

He didn't dare to think about it.

If he kept thinking about it, he would start to feel sorry for his father.

wrong.

Is that really our dad?

Or rather—I can't think about it anymore, I can't think about it anymore. Jordan felt like he was going to explode if he thought about it any longer. He quickly threw Ian's teething toy into the trash can with trembling hands.

They pretended that nothing had happened.

of course.

If those horrifying things were true, Jordan felt he might still be alive, and he would also find the reason why Jonathan, Ian, and even himself were acting somewhat strangely.

They shouldn't be in the metropolis.

They should be in Gotham.

They must be normal people there.

"What's wrong with you?" Jonathan also came out carrying a plate. He saw his younger brother trembling and felt even more strongly that Jordan might be feeling unwell today.

"nothing!"

Jordan made a run for his life.

I ran up to the bedroom on the second floor as fast as I could.

He stared at the box containing his treasure, trying to temporarily forget the absurd reality he found hard to accept. Although he and Clark didn't get along, it didn't mean there wasn't a father-son bond between them.

Memories flooded back.

Just when Jordan wanted to escape reality.

"Ding Ding Ding ~"

His cell phone rang.

Jordan's fingers trembled like the legs of a frog being electrocuted, because he saw "Mom" on the screen and suddenly felt an urge to throw the phone out the window.

"Hey?"

of course.

Ultimately, reason prevailed over fear.

Jordan answered the phone.

"Your brother's phone isn't answering. Is Ian with you?" Louise's voice came through the phone, with the background noise of the newspaper printer running frantically.

"We were just together a moment ago."

Jordan's voice was as erratic as that of a terminally ill patient.

"now what?"

Louise's questioning was very serious.

"He's gone to school now."

Jordan gave an honest answer.

"Go to school? What kind of school is on Saturday?" Louise asked in surprise. She even checked the time, and thankfully, the extra pay for working overtime today was calculated correctly.

“I asked him the same question, but now I understand. He probably wanted to avoid you guys. I think he might have dragged all his classmates out of bed and forced them to go to class.”

To be honest, Jordan also found himself incredibly empathetic towards Ian by sheer coincidence.

He recalled the bat-shaped metal bar. If even a mediocre student like himself could figure it out, Jordan, as the smartest kid in the family, was certain his younger brother wouldn't be completely clueless.

"What did he tell you? And what did you understand?" Louise thought Ian had revealed something at home, so she tentatively asked Jordan.

“Ian didn’t tell me anything, but I gradually came to understand everything.” Jordan swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, looking very nervous.

“Yes, I understand everything… You and Dad are remarried, right?” Jordan finally couldn’t hold back, and the other end of the phone fell into a deathly silence.

Jordan could hear the sound of his blood pounding against his eardrums. "What are you saying?"

After a while.

Louise, her emotions now stable, spoke again.

Jordan breathed a sigh of relief.

They lowered their guard slightly.

"me……"

He touched his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror. "I may have awakened Batvision. I often see Batman's eyes are red when he appears on TV."

These words may be very euphemistic.

However, Louise was not a fool who couldn't understand the implied meaning.

"Cuckoo~"

The sound of drinking came from the other end of the phone.

"Go and get Ian to answer the phone!"

Louise's voice was cracking.

What is word-of-mouth?

This is perhaps the true meaning of reputation.

"It has nothing to do with Ian, I guessed it all myself! I'm quite clever too!" Jordan defended Ian, and it was indeed true.

and so.

"very good."

Louise was suppressing some emotion.

"Then you just wait at home, I'll have your dad come back to find you." After calming down a bit, she realized that Jordan might have awakened Kryptonian abilities.

This is a very big deal.

Louise didn't dare to lose her temper easily.

only.

Despite her best efforts to control her emotions, the mother still couldn't quite see her sons clearly.

"Um...which dad will come back to find me?"

Jordan asked cautiously.

One sentence almost made Louise on the other end of the phone explode with anger.

……

Talented people aren't found everywhere.

However, the Kent family was clearly more likely than other families to produce talented individuals.

Just as Jordan was using his strength to provoke the most powerful person in the family, Ian had already started his incredibly fulfilling day with his schoolbag on his back.

Cashing checks is not difficult.

Although minors are generally not allowed to cash checks at banks on their own, some banks will still accept and process checks when the minor is the beneficiary of the check.

Ugly Master was very thoughtful.

Ian's redemption went very smoothly and to his satisfaction.

“If I didn’t tell anyone, who would know I’m already a millionaire?” Ian bought a breathable meat shred on the street, and with his thermos in hand, he found the location of the Metropolitan Black Market under Mr. White’s guidance.

“I used to work for Luther… I knew he was researching bio-warriors… It was because I wanted to get rid of him that I unknowingly made a deal with the devil.”

Mr. White was feeling melancholy in his thermos.

"It's the great Sangu Demon!"

The demon's head in Ian's bag corrected his statement.

Ian was in a state of great excitement.

"A bio-warrior? Great! That's more like it! But I need to make sure, it's definitely not some kind of drug, right? Kids born into positive families will never tolerate gambling or drugs again!"

Ian maintained the necessary vigilance and a positive mindset.

"..."

Mr. White was silent for a moment. "It's just an enhancement drug, used to create super soldiers. Luther's ambitions are huge, not just limited to getting military orders."

He still feels deeply saddened when he talks about it.

"Yes, yes, that's fine, that's perfect." Ian was relieved, and so, guided by White, he arrived at the so-called black market in the metropolis.

It's actually just a rather chaotic street with some shops selling contraband under different signs. These shops also do some legitimate business on weekdays.

Like a shop hiding chemical raw materials, it is actually a century-old shop called Old Joey's Custom Suits, where a bald, burly man in overalls is doing meticulous sewing work.

Ian exchanged a secret code with the bald man, just as Mr. White had instructed.

"buy what?"

The bald man glanced at Ian, the little boy, in surprise. He hadn't expected that Old White had gone to such an extreme, actually using a minor to make purchases.

That's just too shameless.

The shop owner, who was cursing under his breath, had no idea that the shameless person he was talking about was actually inside a thermos by Ian. Since he assumed Ian was a regular customer's henchman, he quickly retrieved the goods for Ian.

The transaction went smoothly.

Even though things went smoothly, Ian was somewhat reluctant.

“I’m just a kid. Shouldn’t you rob me, kidnap me, and sell me to a shady factory?” This is the script that Ian thinks suits him.

Hear the words.

The bald boss just scoffed.

"I'm in this business for the long term. Do you think I need your pittance? Honesty is the most important thing in the black market. How much can I sell you for if I put you in a sack and send you out?"

His obvious disdain for Ian's words only made Ian think they made perfect sense.

no way.

Filled with resentment, Ian could only leave with regret. His "fair trade" mode also had its own trigger conditions, and unfortunately, this store did not receive that honor.

Where have all my favorite villains gone?

Ian walked down the gloomy alley, looking somewhat heartbroken.

"Is this potion really worth six thousand dollars?" Since he didn't get much material, Ian suspected that Mr. White might be living off the shop's kickbacks even after he died.

Who knows, the shopkeeper might pre-order a few beautiful women from hell for Mr. White later.

It's hard to explain.

"Let me try a few times, I'm sure I can recreate the formula data for that enhancement potion," Mr. White quickly assured Ian, sensing his unfriendly gaze.

"Why go through all that trouble?"

Ian simply mixed the ingredients together.

He drank all the gray substance in one gulp.

next moment.

[Savage Tyrant Experience Points +13]

Upgraded.

The attributes have been improved.

Strength: 21-22.1

[Physical fitness: 38-41.5]

Intelligence: 3.0-3.2

[Spirit: 7.6-7.7]

It is clear.

The Savage Tyrant focuses on physique, while the Berserker focuses on strength. Neither of them significantly improves the attributes of [Spirit] and [Intelligence], which made Ian feel slightly disappointed.

of course.

[Mild Genetic Disruption]

The newly acquired negative effects can be considered a kind of consolation.

Berserker Experience +2

One level up.

Double the harvest.

Ian was finally satisfied with the six thousand dollars he had spent.

"It's a pity he didn't have enough stock, otherwise I would definitely be flying tonight." Ian looked at his extra skill points and didn't choose any of the fancy skills.

He learned the new skill [Eye of the Blazing Sun], and immediately felt his pupils burning intensely.

"It's a golden light! Now I don't have to worry about Mom misunderstanding." Ian looked in the mirror and was very satisfied with the imposing presence he projected.

Because I want to upgrade.

He then continued searching for other shops in the area. White silently sank to the bottom of the thermos. The demon head in the backpack suddenly spoke.

"I smell the scent of hell."

It twitched its rotting nostrils, "And filthy liars."

Between words.

With utter disgust.

Ian understood why the demon loathed him so much; after all, even though he didn't have a dog's nose, his newly enhanced eyes still managed to spot the man in the old trench coat in the distance.

street corner.

Constantine, wearing a beige trench coat, was walking this way with a cigarette in his mouth.

The moment their eyes met.

Ian wanted to take a detour.

Constantine, however, was much faster than him in taking the detour—he simply turned a corner and ran, as if afraid that if he was too slow, he might face something terrible.

Even when his shoes were lost, Constantine didn't care.

Ian was completely dumbfounded.

"No, is he a plague god, or am I the plague god? I should be the one avoiding him like the plague god!" Ian was so angry that he jumped up and down. Human nature is sometimes so contradictory.

It's one thing to be on guard against others, and it's another thing to be on guard against by others.

"I think he's very wise."

The voice of the demon's head echoed eerily from inside the backpack.

"Shut up! I'm wearing a mask! How could he possibly recognize me? He must be in a real hurry to get home and take a dump!"

Annoyed, Ian hesitated for a moment but still didn't take off his socks to stuff into the demon's mouth. He couldn't let his emotions ruin his feet.

Just at this time.

"No! What happened to me just now! How could I have been so confused as to take this car!" A heart-wrenching wail came from afar, immediately attracting Ian's attention.

Ian's ears perked up. Realizing that the sound was coming from the direction Constantine had come from, he knew that someone else had been tricked again.

"Damn it, why doesn't Constantine trick me instead! I love being tricked! Even if he likes punishing scum like himself, it's not like I can't be a scumbag!"

Ian followed the sound and found an open space.

A burly car dealer was desperately wailing over a black Dodge Hellcat, the car keys in his hand like a hot potato, impossible to shake off the ground.

This person is clearly being harassed.

"This car killed nine people! A full nine people! Why would I buy it? Someone drugged me!" The car dealer knelt in front of the Dodge Hellcat, trembling.

His expression was one of despair.

"What! Nine spirit rings! A Title Douluo-level muscle car!" Ian noticed and immediately became interested. He quickly approached the wailing car dealer and whispered.

"I'll take this car for eight hundred dollars."

Hear this.

The car dealer looked up sharply, as if grasping at a straw, and saw a boy wearing stockings standing in front of him. His first instinct was to think he'd encountered a fugitive robber. However, after realizing Ian was just a child, the car dealer breathed a slight sigh of relief.

"Kid, do you even have a driver's license? You want to buy a car?"

The car dealer looked conflicted.

It's like a struggle with one's conscience.

"Hilarious! I'm about to become a spirit ring, why would I need a driver's license?" Ian thought the other person's brain wasn't quite right, and he hoped that the other person would drink more walnut juice when he got home.

"..."

The car dealer's conscience immediately stopped bothering him.

"You'd rather lose your life than your money, huh? Here you go!" He pulled a large wad of US dollars from his pocket and slapped the keys into Ian's hand. He felt a huge sense of relief the moment the keys were released.

"You asked for it, it's not my fault, it's not my fault." As if trying to convince himself, the car dealer kept repeating this sentence and ran away as if his life depended on it.

"..."

On the open ground.

Ian was left alone, staring at the key and the dollar in his hand.

He looked somewhat bewildered.

"They promised 800, but they gave me 7,200... There are still a lot of suckers in the Metropolis." Ian sighed, feeling that he should probably raise his service prices a bit.

Yes.

His tuition fees at school were clearly out of step with the realities of society. Having recouped his previous expenses, Ian started circling the cool American muscle car a few times.

"That's so cool!"

What Ian valued was not the presence of spirit rings on the car, but rather the fact that with so many spirit rings, a muscle car at the Title Douluo level must possess autonomous driving capabilities.

“It might even have auto-repair capabilities, this is the car of my dreams!” As Ian’s finger traced the hood, the Dodge Hellcat’s headlights flickered eerily.

"The only fuel for this vehicle is human blood."

The demon's head spoke softly from inside the backpack on Ian's back.

It's really scary.

Ian was indeed frightened.

He quickly calculated in his mind that even if he were to buy human blood as a primary recycler, a 400ml bag of whole blood would cost between $200 and $300.

This fuel is really much more expensive than oil.

"Sure enough, high-end cars come with high operating costs." Ian couldn't help but sigh. He had a flash of inspiration, and by the third thought, he had a foolproof solution.

"I always said I was resourceful."

Ian, delighted, perked up again.

"What do you mean?"

The demon's head was still somewhat bewildered.

"Human blood is so expensive. Hellcats should drink hell blood. Free fuel is the best fuel." Ian's words made the demon head in the backpack even more confused.

"What hellish blood?"

The demon's head was a mystery to him.

but.

This confusion only lasted until Ian took it out of his bag.

"No! Don't do this!"

While Ian twisted him into a muggle shape.

The demon understood.

Don't worry, big shots, we won't renege on our debts. We'll make up double for any outstanding payments.


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(End of this chapter)