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

Chapter 94 Evil God? Who is the Evil God?
The sunset truly casts silhouettes over everything.

The Hellcat's tires tore sulfurous tracks across the asphalt. Against the suburban skyline, Ian's car sped along, far, far exceeding the speed limit.

This is also normal.

After all, there are no speed limits or speed cameras on suburban roads. For experienced drivers who truly abide by traffic rules, the absence of speed limit signs and enforcement measures means there are no speed limits.

The car that hasn't killed anyone for several hours is driven by an experienced driver.

He is well-versed in this matter.

"Taking everything in my stride"

"Don't need reason, don't need rhyme."

……

In the right setting, Ian's Hellcat loves to switch to the right song, and right now the computer is playing a freedom song that was all the rage in America.

Highway to Hell.

of course.

It's like everything that people in the world can see in America.

It originated in Australia.

Just like the people living on this land today, everything comes from "imports"—what? What does the United States have on its own soil? Anyone who could answer that question is now a specimen in a museum.

“Oh, no wonder you said this is hell~” Ian belatedly realized, and patted his backpack, but the demon head inside did not respond.

Ian doesn't care about this praise.

"Six or seven kilograms, these are all symbols of my achievements." Ian had been sorting through the recovered bullets, and the weight of more than a thousand bullets was slightly beyond his expectations.

"I'm going to forge them into brass chains, so when I take my pets out for a walk, I'll have a leash." Ian had indeed found an orange cat, but that was for carrying out his scheme to appease the Mother Goddess. So, from beginning to end, he only had the demon's head to take out for walks.

It doesn't matter.

What's the difference between taking a stroll and just taking a stroll?

"By the way, you must have used up a lot of energy today. Here, replenish your trace elements." Ian picked out a few of the best-looking bullets, opened his backpack, and threw them into the devil's head's mouth.

Because he wanted his trash can/gas station to be fully fueled tomorrow, he naturally treated the demon's head better than he had the previous two days.

"Don't run."

Ian also held down the orange cat that was trying to escape, and stuffed the orange cat and the demon head back into his backpack, because the "seal" on its mouth had been removed when it was fed.

"Damn it! It's trying to get into my mouth! Get it out!" The demon head screamed as if its tail had been stepped on, but unfortunately, it no longer had a tail.

"That's no excuse for you to eat my cat!"

Ian issued a stern warning to the demon.

"If you dare to eat my cat, I'll make you wear lipstick every night and use your little clip voice to be a sexy chat partner for otaku. Guess how long it will take you to earn enough money for me to buy a new cat?"

He's becoming increasingly adept at threatening others.

Say something.

At least with the Minotaur, Ian's threat was more effective than any exorcism spell.

It fell silent instantly, feeling wronged but not daring to speak. It could only grit its teeth and refuse the orange cat's curiosity about the world it was talking about. It really didn't know why the damned God had created a creature like a cat!

The demonic minotaur trembled.

It doesn't want to eat the cat.

But it sensed that the cat wanted to eat it.

"Damn it!"

The more the demon thought about it, the angrier he became.

She silently shed tears.

This time, the orange cat seemed to dislike it. Perhaps because it thought the devilish bull's head was a more comfortable cat bed, the cat that Ian had picked up settled down quietly in the backpack.

Ian did leave ventilation openings.

"Don't blame me. Blame that Batman suit from before. After I wore it, I was corrupted by Batman. It not only gave me strategy but also made me ruthless."

Ian felt that what he said made a lot of sense.

No one knows whether wearing Batman's suit will taint you with even a tiny bit of cosmic karma.

His logical loop is perfect.

But the demon minotaur is clearly not at his level of understanding.

"You were just role-playing..." the demon minotaur muttered weakly. It had truly lost too much today, and its head was completely fuzzy.

"That's why I'm just ruthless, you fool." Ian scoffed. The Minotaur laughed at him for overthinking, while Ian laughed at the Minotaur for not understanding the bond between himself and Batman.

As for what kind of bond this is, well, the titles of mentor and godfather seem to have already been used up... While pondering, Ian found himself experiencing moments that felt tricky.

"Hey."

This must be because not enough attribute points have been allocated.

It cannot sustain the brain's functions for extended periods.

"My body isn't strong enough to match my brain." With a sigh, Ian packed the remaining bullets into a bag and casually popped one into his mouth.

"Kacha kacha~"

It's very crispy.

Just like peanuts.

After chewing it all up, Ian swallowed it all.

This is an attempt.

however.

Useless.

Nothing happened.

The experience points for the "Savage Tyrant" did not increase.

"I still need to go and touch my Uncle Tun."

Ian failed to exploit the system bug, so he can only wait until he unlocks the profession that Planet Eater brings before he can have a truly healthy gut.

The Hellcat is still speeding along the highway.

It is leading Ian to a new "mission" point.

America's Sinful Lands are everywhere, just like the endless quests in a certain canned game factory, so Ian thinks he should be able to learn to fly today.

"what is that?"

As Ian listened to the song and hummed along, he stared ahead. Soon, he realized something was wrong. The suburbs were still the suburbs, but what was with that impressive factory with the [LEXCORP] logo?

"Luther's business!"

Ian's mind immediately cleared.

"No, no, no! That's the dungeon my dad should be running! I don't deserve it!" Ian had a very clear understanding of himself. As an independent NPC, he only wanted to bully ordinary villainous NPCs.

As for villains like Luther...

Even the immortal Ian.

He also didn't really want to get himself involved with medicated plasters.

"Retreat! Retreat! Retreat! Let's find another instance!"

Ian patted the dashboard in front of him.

The Hellcat then made a sharp turn and a wide U-turn.

Being obedient means being obedient.

However, this does not prevent the song from expressing its opinion on this choice.

I'd hate to look into those eyes.

And I feel like I can't change anything.

……

Say something.

This is a bit too yin and yang.

“You don’t understand. I’m just taking a long-term view and taking things one step at a time.” Ian’s rebuttal was actually quite reasonable, after all, he hadn’t brought his dual-wielding weapons this time.

Not only was his unparalleled combat power unusable, but no one was helping him attract Luther's attention. Given this situation, Ian felt he was better suited for simpler dungeons.

"Buzz~"

Hellcat answered with the roar of its engine. It once again became the Black Mamba, speeding along the highway with Ian into the city, heading straight for a bustling neighborhood.

"Would someone trade military supplies here?"

Ian was somewhat surprised.

He looked around.

This is a relatively safe neighborhood. The streets are clean, the pedestrians are tidy, and you can't see many homeless people. Even the black guy selling zero-dollar items is wearing a suit and tie.

He even knew to leave a tip after robbing the goods!
He looked like a decent black guy who was out working a respectable job! Ian was very curious: could there be some kind of nefarious deal happening in such a peaceful and quiet neighborhood?
"Trust me, Pilot." This time, Hellcat's radio station wasn't quoting a song, but rather a very short line from a game.

“Hmm, hmm, I understand. The most dangerous place is the safest place.” Ian still trusted his car and surveyed the surrounding area for potential criminal transactions.

There are many clothing stores.

There are also various department stores.

Soon, the boy's eyes were fixed on a fairly upscale fast food restaurant, where at least the food was freshly fried. He quickly ran over and pushed open the door to enter.

"Here, it must be here." Ian made his judgment with certainty, and his stomach immediately growled twice. He was always quite hungry after using his self-healing ability. Although this hunger was not usually intense due to his improved physical abilities, it did not affect Ian's desire for a win-win situation.

"I need to fill my stomach first. I need to be full to have the energy to grab things... No, I mean to be a superhero." He ordered food with the gusto of a glutton who hadn't eaten for three days.

Twenty hamburgers, ten fries, five milkshakes, and thirty fried chicken legs. If Ian weren't afraid of being bullied with strange looks, he could have ordered even more fast food.

"This is the source of my confidence as a wealthy person."

Ian sat down at a large table by the window, even elegantly tucking his napkin into his T-shirt. The only downside to the meal was that his Coca-Cola couldn't be served in a stemmed glass.

"Cuckoo~"

Ian's "Drinking" isn't just a happy drink for couch potatoes.

He looked at the table full of food and was about to begin his pre-meal prayer when suddenly a figure ran past the floor-to-ceiling window and disappeared into the fast-food restaurant.

She first ran a few steps towards the restroom, then retreated and crawled under Ian's table. Before Ian could react, a group of men in black followed them into the fast food restaurant. They attracted the attention of many diners, but since they weren't carrying guns, no one seemed to panic.

"what happened?"

Ian watched the group of men in black with curiosity.

They first searched the fast food restaurant, looked around but didn't find their target, and then, seemingly led by some wise person, rushed towards the fast food restaurant's restroom.

Perhaps they thought the target would escape through the window.

It's a classic plot point. Ian wasn't surprised at all; after all, it's perfectly reasonable for someone to wear dark sunglasses indoors in the afternoon if they have poor eyesight.

"Little punk, that's enough."

Ian kicked the girl hiding under the tablecloth.

"Damn Ian! Don't kick my chest to pieces!" The girl crawled out from under the tablecloth, cursing and frantically grabbing napkins from the table to wipe her clothes, which had shoe prints on them.

Yes.

She is Madison.

Ian's school deskmate.

"Are you in 'Fast Food Restaurant Horror' now? A Hollywood slacker?" Ian remembered that Madison liked to audition on Saturdays and Sundays, so he made a bold guess, much like Kogoro.

"No, can't you see? I'm really being chased by a bunch of lunatics!" Madison, still shaken, snatched the Coke from Ian's hand and took a few big gulps to calm himself down.

"Is it dead?"

Ian wasn't angry about this. Instead, he picked up another drink. After all, he had been used to it for several years, and he didn't exhibit any food-guarding behavior after his food was taken away. His inner emotions weren't even as strong as his own speculations; he was simply more like Kogoro Mouri than Kogoro Akechi.

"He shouldn't die?"

Madison was also somewhat uncertain.

"If you're not going to die, let me have some food first." Ian tidied up the slightly messy table, hoping that Miss Death wouldn't think he was a casual person while he was praying.

To be honest, I'm a little afraid that Miss Death will take advantage of this.

"No, I'm talking about a bunch of perverts trying to catch me, and you're just so calm?" Madison couldn't understand why Ian was still so unfazed.

She suspected that Ian did not believe her.

“We live in an era where superheroes and supervillains roam around, isn’t that a normal life?” Ian looked at Madison with a slightly strange expression.

"..."

I held it in for a long time.

"Grass!"

Madison was speechless, but she had to admit that Ian's words always made a bit of sense—feeling frustrated, Madison picked up a box of fries from the table and started eating.

She knows Ian's rules very well.

So without being reminded, he very consciously took out ten dollars and slapped it in front of Ian.

“You can eat forty-five bites. Count how many you ate yourself.” Although Ian no longer needed to care about this small amount of money, he still put the money in his pocket very quickly.

"You ordered so much food for yourself?" Madison was somewhat surprised by Ian's unusual appetite; she felt that this amount of food would definitely last her at least a week.

He began to pray with his eyes closed. Madison, however, was a very curious person. "Someone like you actually believes in religion? Scientology? A cult of straight men? Or the Flying Spaghetti Monster?"

have to say.

This classmate's bias towards Ian is really too strong.

“I only believe in the New Superman God Cult, but that doesn’t affect my connection with the goddess who symbolizes death.” After Ian finished praying, he also knew how to test the Miss Death who was pretending to be dead.

"I can't help it, I can't go a day without contacting them, they're too clingy." Before he could finish speaking, Ian felt an invisible hand gripping the top of his head.

No pain.

But the other party was shaking violently, as if trying to shake out the water inside.

Ok.

Miss Death seems to have really just been faking her death.

Why is your head shaking? Have you eaten anything? Can I have a piece?

Madison kept his eyes on Ian.

"This is just a close interaction."

Ian finished speaking.

It felt as if an invisible hand had withdrawn as if it couldn't avoid it.

He became elegant again.

"My God, what are you talking about?"

The blonde girl was very confused. Her deskmate was indeed speaking human language, but although she could understand each word, she couldn't figure out what they meant when strung together.

"You don't understand now, but you will definitely understand after you die. Miss Death is the supreme being, the final destination of life—or at least the final destination of most ordinary lives."

Ian wasn't trying to show off.

He only wanted to test his deskmate's amazing healing ability because he remembered it, but his deskmate, who could probably save even the dying in an instant, still didn't seem to understand.

"Death? A goddess? Is this some new cult targeting nerdy guys?" Madison was completely bewildered, genuinely unable to connect with Ian. She could only try her best to understand and start to think outside the box, wondering if this was because Ian was going through a period of suppressed ego.
Otherwise, why would they be so superstitious as to join some kind of goddess cult?
"To be honest, you should get out more. Come with me later. I have a group of girlfriends—spend an afternoon with them and you'll know what a real goddess is."

Madison's helpfulness towards her friends still had a hint of manipulative charm.

It's just like pimping.

"Okay, it seems you really don't know." Ian had finished testing him. He believed that although his classmate's acting skills were good, they certainly couldn't reach Oscar-level naturalness.

"Should I know?" Madison ran her long, slender hands through her messy hair, her eyes blank. Her eyes twitched slightly when she saw the Rolex logo on Ian's wrist.

“I know you’re bold and dare to curse anyone, but death is definitely not an evil god… Look, look, if there were no death, would we have such delicious hamburger patties?”

Ian didn't know if Miss Death had left or not, but he just kept talking about it, "And there are such delicious dead pork chops. If they hadn't died, would I be able to eat such delicacies?"

talking.

Ian even started gnawing on a pork chop.

"..."

Madison regretted not studying hard enough. Even though she knew Ian's words were fallacies, she still couldn't refute them. After all, one can't really gnaw on a live pig.

That picture.

It's terrifying to even think about.

It's just that there's no alcohol here, otherwise Madison would definitely have had a few sips—that's how women are.

"They're all junk food; eating too much of them will make you fat."

Her well-intentioned reminder was probably an attempt to change the subject.

but.

Ian took this very seriously.

“Junk food is great, my godfather loves to eat it.”

He's showing off.

Madison felt as if Madison hadn't eaten for ten or fifteen days.

"Goo~"

The blonde girl swallowed hard.

"Godfather? You mean your godfather, right? Since he loves to eat, I think you should bring some back for him, instead of using him as an excuse to eat and drink to your heart's content here?"

Madison's words made a lot of sense.

but.

She doesn't have the same level of reasoning as Ian.

“My godfather is in jail right now, so he can’t eat, so I’m eating for him. He’ll definitely be able to smell it because of the bond between us.” Ian was absolutely certain of this.

His cheeks were bulging out, like a hamster.

"..."

Madison slapped his forehead, clearly not believing Ian's nonsense.

"You're making me laugh out loud."

She shook her head, feeling helpless.

Looking at the table full of food, Madison stopped eating. It wasn't that she was disciplined enough, but rather that she noticed Ian glanced at her after she had taken her forty-fifth bite.

"With the way you eat, how can you possibly have muscles? Was that muscle photo you sent to everyone in the middle of the night photoshopped?" Madison looked at Ian with suspicion.

"what?"

Now it was Ian's turn to be dumbfounded.

"I haven't done that."

He took out his phone and checked it.

Oh shit.

This is Batman's revenge, though late, it has arrived!
"You promised you wouldn't pursue this!"

Ian felt he shouldn't have trusted every conman who came out of Gotham—but it didn't matter, even someone as powerful as Batman probably underestimated Ian's shamelessness.

He quickly composed himself.

"Want to touch it? First time is free, subsequent times are ten dollars... wait... how much do you think I need to price it to cater to every pretty girl in the school?"

Ian lifted his T-shirt, revealing abs that weren't exaggerated, but were incredibly muscular—Madison's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but exclaim in genuine admiration.

"You... you've got some tech stuff going on, haven't you?"

The blonde girl seemed to know her stuff.

Her questioning was forceful and resolute.

"Nope."

Ian's answer was equally confident. He was drinking enhancement potions, not getting involved in some kind of high-tech or brutal treatment. As long as the names are different, they can be considered different things.

Is cold-dressed houttuynia cordata the same as fish mint oral liquid?

Same principle applies!

“Whether those muscles are fake or not, they’re definitely intimidating.” Madison was still a little shaken as she pulled out her wallet and started looking for small denominations.

A girl who sees film as her future career path and is decked out in luxury goods naturally comes from a well-off family. A child who carries thousands of dollars with them is at least from a high-class elite family. Hmm? As for how Ian knew there were thousands of dollars, it's because he glimpsed Madison's wallet.

No misunderstanding.

Pure voyeurism.

And there are reasons for this.

“Seriously, you have to come with me to the police station to report this. I need a female officer to protect me.” Madison looked at Ian, who was suddenly eating at an accelerated pace as if he had been possessed by a wild boar.

Her eye twitched.

However, I still held back my complaints.

Feeling somewhat apprehensive, he began to make his request.

"Give."

Madison only had ten-dollar bills in her hand, so she handed them to Ian and waited for the very proper Ian to give her change. The blonde, green-tongued girl who had been sitting at the same table with him for many years knew Ian's price list very well.

Don't have too much money.

can not be less.

If you take an extra portion, you'll get scolded.

If you're short one portion, you'll get laughed at.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking of raising prices lately, but… since we’re such good friends, let’s stick to the old rules.” Ian stuffed all the food into his mouth in one go.

He swallowed the last bite of his burger and then snatched Madison's wallet.

"what?"

Madison watched as Ian counted out eight hundred dollars and put it in his pocket. She wasn't angry, just blankly wondering what eight hundred dollars represented on Ian's service price list.

I've never used this kind of service before.

She seems to have forgotten.

"Eight hundred dollars, and you can bring me back a policewoman?"

The blonde green tea girl got her imagination running wild.

People who can sit together are unlikely to be in a bad mental state.

"Dream on, eat my fart, no, you don't deserve to eat my fart—I'm here to save your life." After Ian finished speaking, he wiped his mouth and threw the tissue from his chest onto the table.

"Save my life for what?"

Madison hadn't reacted yet.

She saw Ian skillfully pull a bag of new stockings out of his pocket.

"???"

Under Madison's horrified gaze.

Ian put it on his head.

"What do you say?"

He looked back.

Just the right time.

The toilet door slammed open.

Five or six men in sunglasses, looking menacing, filed out—the same group of unpredictable men in black, the leader of whom was holding up a huge toad with its tongue sticking out.

The direction the toad was pointing was exactly where Madison was sitting.

"Damn it!"

Madison was horrified.

They grabbed Ian and tried to run out of the restaurant.

however.

"No! Wait for me... wait until I poke two holes where my eyes are!" Ian, having failed again with his back to everyone, could only jog along with Madison.

"Wow~"

You used too much force.

The shredded meat tore apart into tattered cloth.

You have to pay me back!

Fortunately, Ian always manages to find someone to shift the blame to.

“I have a car! My car is over there…” Ian wanted to show off a bit, but found that the crowd on the street was a little commotion. That was because the hood of his Hellcat was opening and closing repeatedly, as if it was about to swallow a black man with a crowbar—it seemed to understand what prison was, but it also seemed not to fully understand.

"..."

Ian's voice stopped abruptly.

"Do you have a car?"

Madison threw away all her high heels.

She turned around in surprise.

"Why don't you wait a moment while I log into my account..." Ian didn't mention his car at all, but instead took out a bag of shredded meat and opened the packaging.

"No? How much of this stuff did you buy?" Madison asked breathlessly, but that didn't stop her from being amazed at what Ian had in his pockets.

"you guess?"

Ian pulled the stockings over his head and logged in again. He knew that wealthy people should keep a low profile, so he wouldn't easily reveal the extravagant fact that he had bought a full hundred pairs and only planned to use them for a month.

"Let them come!"

“I think they’re definitely not simple! Look, I have superhero identification… no, this is my expired mental illness certificate, this is my real identification.”

Ian finally pulled out his psychic card.

He wasn't necessarily trying to be a hero, but his intuition told him that the group of people who looked like male magicians might be the criminals that his Hellcat had sent him to surround.

High-quality express delivery.

Ian definitely has to sign for it.

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(End of this chapter)