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

Chapter 93 Upgrade! And it's a fucking upgrade!

today.

sunny.

The weather is calm and sunny.

however.

The Minotaur Demon felt as if he had never walked on thin ice in his entire life.

True hell.

Nothing more.

The place I was in before might have been a fake hell.

"Let me go, let me go." Ian's desperate attempts to struggle with his facial muscles were futile. He skillfully, like squeezing toothpaste, aimed the demon's head at the gas tank opening.

"I don't have hell blood! Please... don't do this." As they say, demons love to lie and their mouths are very dishonest, but the "torrent" bursting from the broken neck couldn't fool Ian's eyes.

Amidst the demon's screams.

The sound of gurgling and swallowing came from the fuel tank.

No one knows the underlying principle, and neither it nor the other is scientific, but that doesn't change the fact that they are both reasonable. At least Ian didn't seem surprised at all.

The book "Unsolved Mysteries of the World" holds a very high place in his heart.

and so.

Things that can't be explained simply need to be categorized, and everything will then have a reasonable explanation. This is how Ian has always dealt with things he doesn't understand since he was a child.

Oil is valuable, but human sap is even more so.

If it's for the sake of demonic blood, both can be discarded.

In Ian's view, the unique flavor of his newly purchased Hellcat was not a problem, but rather a cost-effective choice, as the demon's head was simply as magical as a sponge.

No matter how hard you squeeze, there always seems to be some left. The offspring of demons may be endless, but the blood of hell is clearly plentiful.

"I don't have a single drop left!"

The demon's wailing voice was still full of energy.

“Yes, yes, MacArthur… well, anyway, I heard someone say that if you take half of a demon’s blood, it will never run dry.” Ian naturally didn’t believe the demon’s lie.

When it comes to refueling a car, both experienced and novice drivers know that you should fill it up completely at once, otherwise the Mexicans next door will definitely laugh at them for not being able to afford gas in free America.

“I decide what fuel I use; that’s fuel freedom in a free and democratic world.” Ian found solid legal support for his actions.

The world was achieved only when the inhabitants of hell were injured.

They're nothing but exploitative devils.

Since the demon was not a legitimate citizen of America, but merely an unidentified inhabitant who had smuggled himself into America from Hell, Ian's exploitation of it could only be considered as conforming to the prevailing narrative.

“I’ve always said I’m good at adapting to my environment; my nickname should be Dr. Darwin.” Ian refilled the fuel tank and casually tossed the crumpled, lifeless demon head back into his backpack.

of course.

Although the devil's No. 66 gas tube has been wiped clean, its wailing is too tragic. For the sake of cleanliness and hygiene of the backpack, a few sanitary napkins will definitely need to be used as padding.

It's just a convenient thing to do at a convenience store on the street.

What's crying?

The cashier has pointed ears.

"It's nothing, I'm just listening to music."

Ian remained calm and composed, arousing no suspicion and showing no concern about encountering animal protection organizations. He had checked on his phone; demons were not on their protected list.

America has its own unique circumstances.

Animal protection organizations generally won't even glance at projects that aren't profitable.

Even if the devil's head rolled to the door of the animal protection association, it would have no chance of successfully filing a complaint. It would only be fit to sit with Runren's representative, Donut Wang Weiheng, who was squatting in the corner.

When it comes to social rules, Ian was already a master at the age of eight. Just as he said, putting aside the threat to his life, he is actually very adaptable to his environment.

"Are you buying sanitary napkins for your girlfriend? It's rare to see such a nice guy." The convenience store clerk liked to chat, but Ian, a multi-millionaire, felt he should act like a rich man.

"No, it's a training cup for my brother." Ian tried to be as concise as possible, raising his hand like the elites, but unfortunately, he didn't have a watch on his wrist.

But this doesn't bother him.

It's nothing more than borrowing a pen to doodle.

"Your music stopped playing... Is the player out of power?" The cashier, who hadn't quite figured out what Ian was talking about, took back the pen he had lent him.

Aren't happy cups usually used with tissues?
You'll need sanitary napkins.

Could there really be exceptionally talented Splatoons in this world?
The cashier seemed to be deep in thought.

He seemed to recall the plots of some bizarre movies he secretly watched late at night.

"It's not that the power is out, it's just that my player was slightly startled." Ian achieved the desired effect, and stopped there, not continuing to frighten the demon's head.

He was, after all, a kind-hearted and good person.

"oh oh."

The cashier was impressed but didn't understand.

Ian stuffed the sanitary napkin into his backpack and went out the door, returning to the open space where his test drive car was located—he was definitely in luck, as the Dodge Hellcat was the name of a high-performance model under the American Dodge brand.

It is world-renowned for its ferocious power and the cultural concept of American muscle cars.

Ian's version is an even more extreme Demon version. As its name suggests, it has a large displacement engine, rear-wheel drive, and strong straight-line acceleration, making it a typical example of "horsepower is justice".

"I'm a car from hell~ I'm a car that kills people~"

"The killer car is driving recklessly!"

"All nine people deserved what they got. I'm not just an ordinary car; I'm an avenger!"

……

As Ian approached the Hellcat, the car's radio was playing music, and its exhaust pipe was emitting a rhythmic, sulfurous blue flame.

The lyrics are really upbeat.

It's also very exciting.

It clearly enjoyed the blood of the demons of hell.

It's obvious that the wild boar hasn't drunk fine urine.

"Nine spirit rings, all seven deadly sins combined. The remaining two spirit rings, one for disrespecting you by putting out your cigarette with your steering wheel, and the other for filling your gas tank with soybean oil?"

That's why the song touches people's hearts.

Ian sensed the emotions the other person was trying to express.

“Listen, buddy,” Ian said, mimicking the life coach on TV, “Killing is wrong. Even if they offend you, all you can do is send them to jail.”

"You can only send people to Hell after I've built a prison there... That's the so-called no-kill principle, understand? I've seen Batman, but you've never seen him."

Ian knew he had encountered a car with warped values, a sinful mind, and a ruthless heart, but he also firmly believed that one day he could influence the other and get him to start making cars again.

"Amen~"

Hellcat's radio suddenly switched to a Christian station.

It seemed as if they had been somewhat influenced.

"This is right!"

Ian nodded with satisfaction, "When you are good enough and kind enough to be worthy of my second-generation holy soul, I will ask my teacher Tony to teach me how to evolve you into a Transformer."

He made a promise.

Mature millionaires know from a young age how to be a capitalist who can easily make grand promises.

This is not.

Thank you~~

Hellcats switched to a radio show where quirky entertainers thanked their audience.

The car body shook excitedly.

It's obvious it has good taste, and this is its first time experiencing PUA (Pick-Up Artist) tactics. The Hellcat's four doors opened automatically, and Ian plopped down in the passenger seat.

"From now on, this will be Ian's exclusive seat." Ian fastened his seatbelt, and the seat automatically adjusted to the most comfortable angle. A line of engraved text slowly appeared on the passenger-side dashboard in front of him.

[For Ian's exclusive use]

The calligraphy composed of letters is quite elegant.

Ian was extremely satisfied.

This was the ideal vehicle he had heard about in his dreams, in the poems of the poet Ezra Pound.

"Let's go! Let's stroll around the streets!"

Ian gave the orders.

The Hellcat then shot off like an arrow.

What is intelligent driving? This is what intelligent driving is all about! The Hellcat weaved through traffic like a black mamba snake, and Ian even felt as if he could hear the echo of an old friend from the word "man".

"Buzz~"

The engine was roaring.

Although it's a wild car, it clearly also has a gentle side. Even amidst the exhilaration of speed and passion, it still obeys traffic rules and knows not to run red lights.

"Yes, yes, obeying traffic rules starts with you."

Ian felt that his killer car might actually be salvageable and could be forgiven by God—he should believe in God here, because if he believed in the Father, his beloved car would probably be sent to the scrap heap.

Ian was enjoying the superior experience brought by intelligent driving. Outside the window, the harmonious society of the metropolis during the day kept passing by in his eyes. There was always so much tug-of-war between the homeless and the urban elites.

"Give me back my bag!"

"Madam! Look at my skin color!"

"Help! If you don't let go, I'm calling Superman!"

"Damn it! Even so, I'm going to accept this bag that nature has given me—I'm a gambler, so I bet Superman's life isn't as valuable as mine!"

"I will win!"

……

Beautiful.

This has always been the way of daily life in a metropolis.

Ian admired the scenery that could only be seen in America.

He didn't intend to get off the bus to stop them. In this dog-eat-dog world, whoever is weaker can't protect their bag; the laws of nature are vividly reflected in this country.

One was saved.

You can't save everyone.

The bags bought from Black people were then recycled by them. Even Ian, as the second-generation Superman, couldn't stop this market law. Hayek's powerful hand would know how to regulate it.

"parking!"

Ian only turned his gaze away from the scenery when the sound of sirens shattered his moment of "enlightenment." Faced with the police, Hellcat also chose to obey the law.

It might be like Ian, who loves to obey the law.

"It's you again! Stan Lee, right?" The familiar traffic cop walked over with a stern face, tapping on the car window with his fingers. Through the empty driver's side window, he saw Ian sitting comfortably in the passenger seat.

Ian remembered this face—the culprit behind the last fire hydrant incident.

"drving license."

The traffic police officer glanced at Ian's new car with some envy.

The voice was serious.

"It's been revoked."

Ian often blinks when he lies.

Hear the words.

The traffic police officer had a "I knew it" look on his face. He still vividly remembered Ian's driving performance. "Very well, I'm sorry to inform you that you may be arrested."

As he spoke, he pulled out his handcuffs and gestured for Ian to get out of the car.

"I wasn't even driving, the car was moving by itself, what kind of driver's license do I need?" Ian sat calmly in the passenger seat, looking confused. He just felt that America's traffic police intelligence needed improvement.

Stop trying to pull any tricks!

The traffic policeman simply gave a cold laugh.

“You must have seen me before you sneaked over there. I’ve seen plenty of people like you!” The traffic policeman touched his pistol with one hand, a gesture that was a warning to Ian.

“I don’t believe it. Someone like me is one of a kind on Earth. How could you possibly meet a second one?” Ian retorted while patting the Hellcat’s dashboard.

Hellcat Cars understand.

It immediately performed a reverse parking maneuver followed by a parallel parking maneuver for the traffic police, and then bounced up and down twice like a disco dancer to show off its brand-new and powerful performance.

"!!??"

The traffic police were dumbfounded.

He really crossed a line in his professional conduct this time. He was unsure whether to issue the ticket or not, and the handcuffs he had already taken out seemed to be restrained by professional ethics, so he put them back.

"Oh, the light at the intersection ahead is green."

Ian stared ahead.

The next moment, the Hellcat darted away with a "whoosh," leaving the traffic policeman standing there questioning his life, wondering if this was some kind of self-driving test conducted by a large technology company.

Are taxi drivers going to lose their jobs?

The traffic policeman rubbed his eyes and noticed that the license plate on the Hellcat's tail was constantly changing—a Hellcat is a cat, so it should naturally have a Schrödinger-like license plate number.

"Am I dazzled?"

The traffic policeman had taken out his walkie-talkie, intending to ask his colleague a question, but at that moment, he felt guilty and hesitated before putting down the communication device.

"I might still be in bed now? But why would I dream that I'm still at work? That's not right... Maybe, just maybe, I'm actually just a brain in a vat."

Traffic police have become abstract philosophers.

He was so skeptical of life.

Aside from not being able to believe what I was seeing.

This is also related to the characteristics of free America. When traffic police search for illegally planted leaves, in most cases these leaves will eventually disappear.

As for where it flew to...

That's a question that can't be brought up.

Anyway, God surely knows.

……

We said goodbye to the traffic police.

The Hellcat's engine roared with pleasure.

The blue flames spewing from the exhaust pipe left scorch marks on the asphalt road.

A sunny day.

Of course, we need to do some positive things.

"I want to go to places where there's a lot of military control over chemical transactions, preferably places where people have a weak sense of the law, don't pay taxes, and aren't even protected by the tax bureau." Ian, eager to level up during his vacation and experience the benefits of [Perfect Divinity] for the first time, immediately provided his navigation suggestions.

The clever person believed that his smart little car would surely understand.

The facts prove that this is indeed the case.

You hate the sin.

You hate the temptress in the bottle.

……

Mature cars can automatically change the music.

It floored the gas pedal and sped toward an abandoned factory in the suburbs. As the tires rolled over the "No Entry" signs, Ian noticed the odometer on the dashboard was even running backwards. This car had a heart yearning to recapture its youth.

"Titled Battle Princess?"

Ian was quite surprised.

but.

He no longer cared about judging the gender of his 12-times-old car, because the Hellcat, which seemed to be able to track illegal and criminal information, had already led him to the scene of the crime.

Inside an abandoned factory.

A bald man in military uniform was making a deal with several burly men from the Brown Bear Country, accompanied by his henchmen.

This is a classic scene.

"This is the goods."

Ten vials of blue medicine were neatly stacked in the silver briefcase of the bald man in military uniform.

The label clearly states "Simulated Superman Serum (Kryptonian Gene-Free)". Obviously, it doesn't contain Superman, but it may actually contain some serum.

Advertising laws have received unprecedented respect here.

of course.

This is still an illegal activity.

Illegal activities are not protected by law.

This means Ian can choose his own trading method. Ian didn't even need to use inequalities; a quick assessment was all it took to solve the problem instantly.

"Five hundred thousand, no bargaining." The man in military uniform wiped his sweat, looking around warily. "Although the success rate is only 1%, it's still more reliable than your 'God Project'."

His words made the burly man from the Brown Bear Kingdom frown.

"Our project is none of your business, Americans!" The burly man from the brown bear country was filled with annoyance, while the bald man in military uniform, who was determined to close the deal, shrugged helplessly.

"Fine, I don't care about that."

As he spoke, the bald man in military uniform ordered his men to inspect the goods.

And at this time.

"Buzz~"

The loud crash of the Hellcat smashing through the iron gate interrupted the transaction. Amidst the billowing dust, Ian, wearing flesh-colored stockings, stepped out of the car; unable to find his leather jacket, he had to pretend he did.

"I smell evil!"

In a deep voice.

Ian had just pulled out his lighter, ready to cross over to the top-tier Ghost Rider.

"Da da da da~"

The ruthless and taciturn villains had no intention of giving him that chance. Without a word, the people from the Brown Bear Kingdom pulled out their guns and opened fire, a storm of bullets engulfing Ian.

[You attempted to learn how to catch bullets by hand. [Student] Job Experience +1]

[You attempted to learn how to catch bullets by hand. [Student] Job Experience +1]

[You attempted to learn how to catch bullets by hand. [Student] Job Experience +1]

……

Ian simply smiled dismissively at this.

His waving hands were dazzling in the air, and the students' professional experience points were increasing wildly. When the first team of men in military uniforms also began to fire, Ian's hands were almost blurry.

[You attempted to learn how to catch bullets by hand. [Student] Job Experience +1]

[You attempted to learn how to catch bullets by hand. [Student] Job Experience +1]

……

A very successful leveling session.

"I knew I could do it." Ian opened his palms, and two handfuls of deformed bullets clattered to the ground. His first success made him feel exceptionally happy.

"Hot weapons, nothing special."

Ian attempted to replicate the Dragon King's crooked smile.

The air was very quiet.

The villains who broke the law were stunned and speechless. The bald man in military uniform and the burly man from the Brown Bear Country were all terrified, each of them trembling and pale.

A gentle breeze was blowing.

The sound of swallowing saliva rang out repeatedly.

"Is he a human or a ghost?"

The burly man from the Brown Bear Country looked terrified.

"I...I don't know..." The bald man in military uniform also trembled. He tried to retreat behind several burly men from the Brown Bear Country, but the group of burly men pushed him in front of them again.

no way.

The bald man in military uniform could only have put down his weapon, whose magazine was already empty.

"You... how come you're still alive?"

The bald man in military uniform spoke tremblingly to Ian.

He was quite knowledgeable and had even witnessed Superman's power. However, even when he saw Superman's steel body, the waves in his heart were far less intense than they were now.

“Heroes never die unarmed, so of course I won’t die.” Following the gazes of the group, Ian looked down at his body, then quickly turned away from them.

"I've caught all your bullets, I'm not going to die a little bit." Ian said, while nervously frantically pulling out the bullets; about seven or eight hundred bullets were stuck in his muscles.

There was some blood flowing out.

However, the bullet only penetrated the skin layer.

Berserker Experience +1

The fact that this little bit of gain is the best proof that the injury was too minor.

As it turns out, Ian is still a tiny bit short of being truly invulnerable—a low-level iron body can only make Ian's body invulnerable to weapons from the era of cold weapons.

Having physical abilities forty times that of an average person is far from invincible.

It's not enough to make Ian completely ignore the barrage of heavy rifles and submachine guns, as many people believe. Human-made technological achievements still deserve a little respect.

"Actually, it's only a tiny bit short; my capillaries aren't strong enough." Ian hadn't felt any pain, so he believed he still had a bright future.

“That just looked scary. You guys do it again, and I promise I’ll do a better job this time.” Ian took out a half-used sanitary napkin and wiped the blood off his face.

He attempted to repeatedly kill monsters.

However, not all bad people are fools.

"Run!"

The bald man in military uniform reacted unusually quickly.

He has realized it.

This was definitely not just a simple encounter with superhumans. Everyone realized what was happening and scattered like birds and beasts; the burly man from the Brown Bear Kingdom even threw away his weapons in an attempt to reduce his load.

only.

It was all in vain. They were indeed clever, but Ian was even cleverer, relying solely on his physical abilities to force out super speed, knocking each of them to the ground with a single punch.

Finally, the bald military officer who was running at the front was pounced on by Ian like a tiger.

He fell face-first into the dirt on the spot.

Ian dragged him back to the trading site by the leg.

"Done, that's a wrap. This wave of sales goes to my family." Ian didn't like killing to cover up his crimes because he didn't need to look up to know that there were two suns in the sky above Metropolis.

and so.

After careful consideration.

Ian also decided to add some weight to his academic career.

He had always hoped that his maternal grandfather would work hard and get promoted before he graduated from university, so that he would be qualified to write the masterpiece, "My Five-Star General Grandfather".

"Hello? Is this General Ryan?" While tying up all the unconscious villains, Ian took out his phone and dialed a number.

"I am an anonymous superhero who likes to bring good fortune to others. Well, your good fortune has come. I accidentally caught a group of people who were stealing military supplies and illegal immigrants."

"Who am I? How did I get your private phone number? That's not important. I already said I don't want to reveal my name—yes, I'm drinking something, and I'm afraid if I don't drink now, there won't be any left later."

Ian had used his extremely skilled voice-changing techniques to the fullest extent.

[Savage Tyrant Experience Points +3]

[Savage Tyrant Experience Points +2]

……

【Savage Tyrant lv3 [1/40]】

He frantically drank enhancement potions.

It's finally been upgraded again.

Strength: 22.1-23

[Constitution: 41.5 — 44]

Intelligence: 3.2 - 3.3

[Spirit: 7.7-7.9]

The attributes have also been improved.

Perhaps we can do it again.

Ian was indeed able to catch more bullets. Instead of using his new skill points, he planned to save up two to upgrade his [Iron Body].

"Evolving into a body of steel will definitely allow you to stop bullets."

Ian had high hopes.

He received another boost in strength.

This is a good thing.

however.

According to the law of conservation of energy.

Bad things happen from time to time, showing what it means to be ever-present.

On the other end of the phone.

My grandfather raised his doubts.

Ian immediately became extremely alert.

"No, there's nothing wrong with my voice, and this isn't a prank..."

"Believe me, I really am a superhero, but I have some unspeakable secret that I can't reveal to the world—huh? What are you talking about? Who's Ian? How do I sound like Ian?"

"Fine, fine, since you're going to slander me like this, I'll confess, I'm Batman! You can check where this phone came from and you'll know!"

"No! What do you mean you're even more sure now? Huh? Mom told you everything? What did she say? That I have a cross-dressing fetish? If she's so fond of tattletales, why doesn't she become a reporter..."

"Pah, pah, pah! Mom must have been disliked by her classmates when she was in school!" Ian, who felt he had made significant progress, was once again filled with exasperation.

I've taken the medicine.

It's like this.

"Fine, don't come then! I'm going to tell Dad! You guys are secretly researching the Superman serum! You're all wicked!" He angrily hung up the phone, and his indignation led him to kick each of the villains once more.

This scene.

Even the stray orange cats passing by were stunned.

It seemed to sense the anger that was already half full in the lower right corner of Ian's eyes.

He was furious with Ian.

"Get lost, Hakimi of your level has no right to 'hakimi' me!" Ian really would curse even a passing cat, which was perhaps the real sign of his defenses crumbling.

"Meow~"

The stray cat was still bristling at Ian.

Its eyes reddened slightly.

however.

Before anything could happen, Ian grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and stuffed it into the tattered backpack, also gagling the demon's mouth.

This is to prevent the demon from eating the cat.

“Nice appearance. Once it’s boxed, it’ll be my apology gift when I get home.” Ian was very calculating, and he firmly held down the orange cat that was still struggling wildly in the backpack.

"You're really strong."

Ian sensed something was wrong.

However, he had more important things to do, which was to take out $300, wipe his fingerprints clean, and put it into the pocket of the bald man in military uniform. He knew the true market price of the enhancement potion like the back of his hand.

He bought it at the entrance of the gym.

"Done, call it a day."

After payment.

Ian jumped onto the Hellcat and rode away.

We shall overcome evil.

"for the Lord is always on the side of victory."

The little car also played a new song for Ian.

The blue flames emitted from the exhaust pipe formed the shape of a middle finger behind it.

A person with a strong personality.

The cars they drive are all so unique.

"He even knows how to make phone calls. Come to think of it, the calls he made were indeed official calls." It's still relative; while Ian is happy, there will always be someone else with mixed feelings.

After Ian left.

above the sky.

The second sun slowly descended from the clouds above the metropolis, and he saw a group of lawbreakers bound in the shape of human centipedes. His red cloak looked slightly disheveled in the wind.

"At least, he has the heart to be a hero, that's for sure." The elderly father, unsure how to evaluate Ian's actions, could only offer this mental reassurance. Yes, perhaps the world misunderstands this man; who says he wouldn't use his super brain?
This already activates a super brain!
perhaps.

Superman shouldn't be a reporter; he should be a lawyer.

"This is a real mess..."

The old father was sighing.

Suddenly.

"Sigh~"

A gasp of astonishment was heard.

He was a strong man from the Brown Bear Country.

Their physical abilities are indeed quite strong.

"Bang~"

However, before the man could even wake up, Superman stepped forward and used a move that had only appeared in TV dramas—perhaps Ian really can't be blamed for liking to knock people unconscious.

Family tradition.

That is so.

Ian simply surpassed his teacher.

[P.S.: The doubts in the comments section have made me panic; I'll combine the rest into one long chapter tonight.]

(End of this chapter)