Night was falling.
The city skyline glowed with a silvery-gray sheen under the moonlight.
The deserted parking lot was unnaturally quiet.
"Hello?"
Ian forced himself to greet "Sam," who had suddenly awakened. He looked at the startled Flash, Barry Allen, who had retreated dozens of steps.
"Is this possession?"
Barry Allen usually only fought metahumans. For the "resurrected" boy whose eyes were bloodshot, he could only guess based on his limited imagination.
"You're right."
The boy "Sam" did not deny it.
Instead, he gave Barry Allen a thumbs-up.
A devil is also a ghost.
That was indeed correct.
Perhaps Sam's praise was too encouraging, or perhaps the praise was poisoned, but either way, the Flash immediately fainted.
Ian swallowed.
He pretended nothing happened.
"Can I use Constantine to repay this favor? I know where he is, I can go grab him for you right now." He came up with an excellent countermeasure in a flash of inspiration.
However.
"No, little darling."
The devil's eyes returned to Ian.
The scarlet eyes were deeply sinister.
It was Lucifer logging in remotely, and Sam was indeed his vessel.
"How about adding a red-robed Death? He's much cuter and totally different from the other Deaths." Ian pointed to the red-robed Death who had been staring at him from a distance.
The red-robed Death was stunned for a moment.
Then he bolted.
He disappeared around the street corner in a flash.
"He has a legal identity, has been diligent for decades, and is considered an outstanding worker." Lucifer, in Sam's body, didn't seem to care, merely staring at Ian with a playful look.
He was still wearing an evil grin.
It was as if his mouth couldn't close.
"We both know my old man likes to take in homeless children." Lucifer's tone was loaded with meaning, and his eyes watching Ian slowly turned back to their normal black.
They were profoundly deep.
"You even know that?"
Ian detected something unusual in the other party's words. He had already realized that the red-robed Death might be legally integrated, but he hadn't expected Lucifer, who was obsessed with dating, to also be paying attention to this kind of thing.
"If I want to know, I can know. That is Omniscience." Lucifer poked his own brain, or rather, the temple of Sam's vessel.
He seemed to have an excessively strong desire to share. "You may not understand this ability yet. I can tell you, consider it a small bonus. Those with Omniscience are not constantly receiving all the information in the entire universe. No one is so idle as to constantly focus on things that don't concern them."
"The so-called Omniscience is that when we want to know something, we can know it. You can think of it as possessing a special information-gathering 'organ.'"
"Oh, yes, organ, I love that term. That's right, every Omniscient being has an extra organ where a massive database is stored, one that is constantly being updated and added to."
"When you need to check a certain event, a certain person, or even the direction of a certain world, regardless of whether that event has happened or not, we only need to query our database like looking up a reference."
Lucifer used simple and easy-to-understand words to give Ian a rare piece of knowledge.
"Sounds very scientific."
Ian was also encountering this level of knowledge for the first time and was deeply impressed.
"Of course, it's scientific. Don't forget, the concept of science is also a masterpiece of my old man. Everything will be very scientific. Omniscience can be viewed as the product of consciousness combining with the rules of the universe. The extra organ of every Omniscient being is different, so higher-level beings can actually shield their information from lower-level beings' collection."
Lucifer snapped his fingers.
Nothing happened.
"If it can be blocked, is it still Omniscience?" Ian pretended not to notice that the other party couldn't go three sentences without mentioning God, his father. He didn't like to engage in a "my dad is better than your dad" competition with someone he couldn't beat.
"Good question."
Lucifer showed a carefree expression.
"It depends on how you look at Omniscience. In fact, angels also possess a degree of Omniscience, they can access the knowledge of Heaven through their connection to it."
"There is a huge library there, which can also be considered the angels' shared organ. If you ever want to deal with an angel, first sever their link to Heaven."
"Losing knowledge, angels will lose their power."
Lucifer's words carried a seductive tone.
"Why are you telling me all this?"
Ian immediately became wary.
"Of course, it's because I've watched you grow up and I'm very fond of you. And, of course, I would also love to see you take down a few angels with this knowledge someday."
"That would be very interesting, and I could brag everywhere about my contribution." Lucifer frankly admitted his motive. His excessive honesty made Ian feel ashamed.
After all, honesty was an innocence he could no longer return to.
"So, can this knowledge also be used... against you?" Ian lacked honesty but had boldness. He sensed Lucifer's attitude, so he attempted a probe.
As a DC know-it-all.
Ian knew very well the temper of the Lord of Hell before him: he didn't like people who were too flattering or overly humble. Of course, Lucifer also didn't like people who were too rude.
There was a fine line.
Ian was navigating it quite well.
Lucifer didn't get angry at the question, but smiled even more brightly.
"Unfortunately, I'm not included in that category. After leaving that filthy place, Heaven, I grew my own extra Omniscience organ. That falls into the domain of Omnipotence."
Lucifer's patience seemed excellent.
He was imparting knowledge.
It was as if he hadn't realized that Ian might be trying to take advantage of him.
"Thank you, I've gained a lot." Ian looked deeply at Lucifer. As the conversation continued, he gradually realized that Lucifer might not just be trying to be a teacher.
Lucifer was hinting at something.
As a being below God but above all creation, Lucifer's words wouldn't be without purpose. Ian's super-intelligence also allowed him to discern the hidden meaning in Lucifer's words.
He wanted Ian to understand Omniscience and Omnipotence, to make Ian realize that the reason Superman's super-hearing was blocked just now and currently was that it wasn't merely super-hearing.
It was the beginning of Omniscience.
Superman's information gathering was simply being shielded by a higher-level "computer." Yes, Ian had realized this, understanding that Lucifer was hinting at Superman's potential.
Super-hearing was the start of Omniscience, and growth through Will was the beginning of Omnipotence. Lucifer was not just giving a lesson, he was teaching Ian the [Manual for Cultivating an Omnipotent Father God]!
Did Lucifer want to see Superman rise?
Perhaps he didn't care.
But Lucifer must have seen Ian's expectations for Father God, so he catered to his preference with this lesson. This was a form of seduction different from that of low-level demons.
High-level devils do not need to read minds; they can truly perceive the heart!
"Fourteen years in DC, and I've finally met my benefactor." Ian's mood was also very excited and surging. Unknowingly, he had found the perfect identity for Lucifer.
Lucifer the Benefactor.
This was almost on par with a mentor and an adopted father.
"Good, I like that sharp mind of yours." Lucifer smiled and clapped his hands. He probably didn't realize that he had been hit by the [Relationship Entanglement] attack. After all, it was silent and difficult to guard against. Its only drawback was likely that as the number of entanglements increased, Ian had fewer and fewer terms of address left.
"I like my sharp mind too."
Ian was also very honest.
Lucifer might genuinely appreciate that.
"As a reward, I intend to make you owe me another favor." Lucifer was still controlling Sam's body. He climbed out of the car's compartment and tidied up the dirt on his clothes.
"I know you received rewards from those guys, giving you a more important role in this world. However, this is not necessarily all good for you."
Lucifer lifted the demon head that was playing dead in the trunk. He seemed to have a playful impulse and began using it as a soccer ball for a game.
The demon dared not be angry.
It even had to make itself bump into Lucifer's clumsy kicks.
"Are there downsides too?" Ian wasn't puzzled that Lucifer knew about the reward he got from Death, as Lucifer had just explained the concept of Omniscience to him.
"It depends on how you view the good and the bad," Lucifer seemed to love this phrasing. "The more you gain, the more you have to bear."
"I was the first to make such a deal, and perhaps your favored Goddess didn't even realize that what they bestowed upon you would bring you an unsolvable problem."
Lucifer's words made Ian pause for a moment.
"An unsolvable problem?"
Ian's brain spun rapidly.
Lucifer didn't rush and waited for him to think.
"Bang!"
Lucifer kicked the demon head forcefully.
The demon head instantly tumbled away. Space shattered, and the demon head seemed to be kicked back to Hell, then it pierced through a dimension and fell from the sky.
"Lucifer!"
A roar appeared in the sky.
It sounded somewhat like the goofy Black Angel from earlier.
"Hehe, this body is a little easier to use. Tell Michael to come down and find me." Lucifer flipped off the sky and stepped on Ian's Abyss Demon Bucket with his foot.
There was no response from the sky.
It seemed like a Birdman chickened out.
"I understand."
At this moment, Ian had an epiphany. After truly focusing on the problem, he understood what Lucifer was referring to—at least, what he thought he understood.
"The greater the status, the greater the responsibility. If a major disaster occurs and I don't contribute enough, I'll have my powers revoked?" Ian's deduction was not without reason.
However.
This was clearly not the answer Lucifer wanted to give Ian.
"You're not wrong, but you're not exactly right either. The issue you need to worry about is not this, but how to face your own 'story,' how to welcome your own... arch-enemy."
Lucifer turned to look at Ian, his tone deeply meaningful. "In every story, the protagonist has an arch-enemy. As your importance increases, your arch-enemy will also be strengthened."
"Your father and Lex Luthor, your boss and the Joker... Arch-enemies will run throughout your entire life, unavoidable. This is the stupid setting my ridiculous father loves." Lucifer still liked to mention his father, God, criticizing His flaws whenever he got the chance.
No one responded to him.
Ian didn't dare to agree either.
Normally, cursing God was one thing—God generally wouldn't mind—but cursing someone's father in front of their son was not a bet the Metropolis Gambler would place.
"No one can escape an arch-enemy, not even God Himself. Of course, that includes me." Lucifer didn't seem angry about this, instead, he was relaxed, as if chatting about household matters.
"Then where is my arch-enemy?"
Ian attempted to take a shortcut to the answer.
"You'll have to ask my idiot old man."
Lucifer did not give a definitive answer.
"Can't I owe you a few more favors? I'd feel safer owing more." Ian knew that the more favors he owed, the greater the success rate of activating [Relationship Entanglement].
Admittedly.
There were risks involved.
But as the saying goes, the bigger the wave, the more expensive the fish. Danger always accompanies opportunity. Ian was different from Constantine, his mindset was more modern.
"You wish. Besides, my favors aren't easy to repay." Lucifer didn't give Ian a chance to "innovate." He simply continued kicking the "soccer ball" toward the sky.
As the demon head repeatedly flew up and down.
Something was handed to Lucifer.
"What is this?"
Lucifer took Ian's notebook with some surprise.
"I've been quite worried about the love lives of my two older brothers for the Kryptonian population revitalization plan. This is a specially compiled dating guide. I've made a few revisions and added some Omniscient-brain flavor."
Ian had learned a new term, and of course, he would use it immediately. "You know, we ordinary people don't rely on superpowers for dating. This is the cop-flower-specific version of the guide."
To some extent, he really did possess extra-dimensional knowledge.
"Hilarious. You think I need superpowers to date?" Lucifer scoffed but still flipped through the notebook a few times. Then, the notebook vanished from his hand.
"Very well, you only owe me one favor now."
Lucifer, who had just said his favors weren't easy to repay, left only that one sentence. Then, his eyes rolled up, and Sam, the vessel, immediately became limp and collapsed onto the ground.
"God must have slipped Lucifer a love potion... terrifying." Ian realized that Lucifer had probably gone to apply the knowledge. He stood there, finding the situation completely baffling.
He was deeply shocked.
"Oh, Great God Ian, you actually know that Lord." The demon head finally dared to speak. Even though its face was covered in dirt, it was still ecstatic.
"I must be the only demon to have been to Heaven, and over twenty times at that! Trigon definitely isn't as lucky as I am!" It was likely floating now.
When mentioning Trigon, it didn't even use a respectful title.
It called him Trigon the Demon.
Creatures with bull heads are indeed often holding grudges.
"Having experienced the fumigation of that Lord's foot odor, I might be on the verge of a promotion!" The demon head did not seem to be playing abstract, it seemed to genuinely hold this firm belief.
"..."
What more could Ian say? He contemptuously tossed the demon head back into the trunk and then, like carrying a kitten, lifted the resurrected Sam back into the trunk as well.
Sam was placed back into his brother's arms.
"Oh, and my Uncle Barry." Ian decided that since he called him Uncle, he couldn't put him in the trunk. So, he used the universally applicable and effective big slap for the occasion.
"Slap, slap."
The effect was significant.
Barry Allen slowly came to.
He clutched his slightly aching face, looking around in a panic.
"Savitar... where is Savitar?"
He seemed to be stuck in the past, as if his mind had pressed the rewind button.
"Are you Uncle Barry who used the Speed Force to attend Savitar's seventh-day memorial and then traveled back in time through a time conduit?" Ian offered the speedster Barry Allen an out.
Unfortunately.
His kindness was not understood.
"Seventh-day memorial? I... I think I..." Barry rubbed his temple, his expression gradually recovering from the confusion. "I remember Savitar grabbed me, and then... you said you used a super-brain?"
"I remember now. You tricked Savitar into going to Los Angeles... and then that boy suddenly sat up, gave me a thumbs-up, and I lost consciousness."
"What did he do to me?" Barry Allen gradually remembered everything. Ian felt a slight regret that he couldn't experience the confusion caused by the Speed Force.
Just as Ian was about to answer, a cold voice suddenly sounded from behind.
"You're Ian?"
The voice was so haughty it sounded like someone owed her forty-five thousand US dollars. Ian and Barry both turned around to see a tall woman in a black leather suit standing not far away. She had a head of curly blonde hair casually draped over her shoulders, a poker face, and a very large sack trailing behind her.
"How dare you, demon! You dare to speak God Ian's name! That's outrageous!" The demon head felt its chance to shine had arrived, and it began to righteously condemn the female demon outside the car.
"Shut up."
The woman glanced at the demon head, and it rolled its eyes and fainted. She was a high-ranking demon, Lucifer's personal steward brought from Hell.
She was one of Lucifer's loyal followers in Hell.
She held the role of Executioner in Hell.
"This is the garbage you carelessly tossed out. We won't pay for the disposal." With that, the female demon dragged the sack behind her and tossed it in front of Ian.
"Thank you."
Ian nodded in response.
"Hmm?" Hearing the thank you, the female demon was actually taken aback. She had expected to meet an evil god who was familiar with Lucifer, but she didn't expect the person to be so polite.
"It seems you're not as arrogant as Lucifer keeps praising you to be." The female demon scrutinized Ian thoughtfully, then suddenly changed the subject, licking her lips.
"Date?"
What a direct invitation.
Ian smiled faintly.
"I'm afraid you have AIDS."
His refusal was equally simple and sincere.
Truly heartfelt.
"..."
The female demon, who genuinely enjoyed casual hookups, fell silent. Barry Allen shrank back to the planter, leaning against the wall, and seeing this scene, he couldn't help but genuinely feel the local customs and traditions outside of Central City.
"Bad luck!"
The female demon was severely attacked by Ian's swift rejection. With a face full of displeasure, she turned and left, her figure merging into the night. It was as if she had completely vanished from the streets of Metropolis in the blink of an eye.
"Why does that head you collect talk?" After the female demon left, Barry Allen finally looked at the unconscious demon head in the trunk.
He had previously thought it was just an action figure.
"Uncle Barry, you clearly don't have a super-brain." Ian's assessment was quite fair, if slightly tactful. He walked to the large sack and untied the rope.
Savitar was lying motionless inside.
There was absolutely no Speed Force fluctuation around him.
He was definitely not asleep.
Savitar's armor was intact, but the entire person showed no signs of life. Ian reached out and cautiously lifted the faceplate on Savitar's helmet.
Sure enough.
The person inside the armor was dead beyond dead. His entire body looked as if it had been scorched by lava, and his eyes, fixed in a death stare, were like two pieces of charcoal.
"This is impossible!"
Barry Allen leaned in for a look.
His whole body immediately trembled as if plunged into an ice cellar.
He couldn't accept this fact.
The man who had once hunted him, the terrifying being who had almost destroyed all of Central City, the one who proclaimed himself the "God of Speed," had a face identical to his own!? Realizing what was happening, a chill ran down Barry Allen's spine, and he broke out in a cold sweat, feeling as if countless needles were crawling up his spine.
"Savitar is... me?"
Barry Allen couldn't accept this fact.
He was thunderstruck.
His mind was blank.
"Speedsters are just like this." Ian had known this information for a long time, so he wasn't surprised. He began aggressively and loudly dismantling Savitar's armor.
The night wind howled.
Barry Allen remained rooted to the spot in shock and horror.
Meanwhile, Ian was collecting gear.
Since it was all future technology, it was all good stuff. Especially the wrist blade. Ian had to use his little brain to figure out how to detach it.
"Cuts metal like mud."
Ian tested the wrist blade. He casually drew it across a stone brick wall. With a light sound, the mysterious alloy blade effortlessly sliced through the brick.
It felt as smooth as cutting butter.
"If it can cut through this stone brick, it can probably cut through steel. If it can cut through steel, it can certainly cut through other things."
Ian tried again.
[Berserker Experience +3]
[Berserker Experience +2]
[Berserker Experience +23]
Once again, he proved that he was truly a genius.
"What are you doing?"
The Flash broke free from his fear of the future, not by willpower, but by external factors. He noticed Ian engaging in behavior he couldn't possibly understand.
This forced Barry Allen to suspect that Ian had been mentally controlled.
"I'm leveling up."
Ian knew his actions could easily scare outsiders.
He reattached his thigh.
With his self-healing ability activating, Ian quickly returned to perfect health. He could still leap over a hundred meters high, but the hunger in his stomach was becoming more apparent.
"Gulp."
Barry Allen swallowed.
He watched the scene.
His expression was spectacular.
Seeing this, Ian immediately offered an explanation.
"By taking the pain I inflict on myself, I'll take less pain when others hit me. You have no idea how miserable I was today. Because I'm usually not diligent, my intestines were almost beaten out of me."
"Luckily, I hadn't converted my appendix into a storage locker yet." Ian looked terrified, but Barry Allen's gaze became even more skeptical.
What did he mean by converting his appendix?
Was that a grammatically correct sentence?
The air was quiet for a moment.
"I see. Metropolis is too far from Heaven... and too close to Gotham." After a long while, Barry Allen, who had long sensed something was wrong, seemed to finally understand everything.
Ian helped him, limping, into the Hellcat.
"Do you have a driver's license?"
Barry Allen's expression was suspicious.
"Yes, I do, yes, I do."
Ian pulled out his psychic card.
The legal information displayed on it plunged Barry Allen back into silence.
He felt that something was very wrong, but what could he do since he had accidentally become a broken-legged cripple? He had no choice in certain matters.
...
The city's neon lights twinkled in the distance, like countless stars fallen to earth. The Hellcat drove steadily through the night. There were still many pedestrians on the streets and alleys of Metropolis.
This was a level of public safety that was invisible in Central City and many other cities.
The sense of security brought by Superman.
"Your father doesn't know you have a fake license?"
The Flash, Barry Allen, slumped in the back seat. The wound on his right leg had been hastily bandaged with an emergency wrap, but what made him more uneasy was the girl with a flushed face in the front seat.
He didn't know if he should ask Ian how many people he had kidnapped.
"Did Savitar really not take me to a new parallel universe?" Barry Allen suspected he was in the universe of the Tyrant Superman, and the person driving seriously in front of him was the second-generation rich kid of Metropolis.
"Have you heard of me before?"
Ian pretended to operate the steering wheel.
"Of course."
Barry Allen nodded.
"Then you're still in the Main Universe."
Ian's answer left Barry Allen puzzled. However, his mind was currently unable to focus on Ian's problems. Savitar's face kept haunting his mind.
"Savitar's face is the same as mine, but you don't seem surprised at all?" Barry Allen found Ian strange, stranger than the strangest person he had ever met, Bruce Wayne.
"Because I have an Omniscient-brain."
Ian felt that this term sounded much cooler than "super-brain."
"..."
Barry Allen found it hard to comment on that.
After all, he had missed a crucial part of the experience.
"Savitar is your time remnant, and actually doesn't have much to do with your real self." Ian was ultimately not someone who liked to beat around the bush, he stated what could be said.
A Time Remnant refers to the phenomenon in The Flash stories where, due to the distortion or alteration of the timeline, fragments and figures from the past or future appear in the current timeline.
Speedsters have too many glitches.
Ian's Omniscient-brain couldn't sort it all out right away.
"You even know about Time Remnants?"
Barry Allen was visibly shocked.
"Omniscient-brain."
Ian poked his own temple, reminding Barry Allen. He was wondering if the Tyrant remnant left by his own teleportation could be used to impersonate a speedster's Time Remnant.
"Then do you know why Savitar wanted to do this to me?" Barry Allen was stunned for a moment, and then he seemed to accept the "Omniscient-brain" setting Ian had given.
He humbly asked.
Ian actually had the answer to this question.
"He's not necessarily your future, but you are definitely his past. If he can make you change in the direction he wants, he can effortlessly become the person he wants to be."
Ian had always believed that speedsters were even better at exploiting glitches than he was.
His tone was full of emotion.
"Hmm."
Barry Allen was, after all, an old-school speedster. He wasn't good at organizing clues, but he was good at understanding them. After hearing Ian's words, he immediately realized something and rolled up his sleeve.
"He seems to really want to see me completely corrupted by this thing." Barry Allen stared at his arm, where a monstrous scar was emitting a blue, ghostly light.
"I'm free now. Let me take a look." Ian immediately turned around, his entire body reaching into the back seat. This scene made Barry Allen gasp in alarm again.
"The steering wheel! You're still driving! Damn it! This car is faster than an airplane!" Due to his insensitivity to speed, the Flash only now realized that something was wrong with the car.
"It's fine, it's a new energy vehicle, it'll find its own way home."
Ian fully crawled into the back seat. However, despite this, Barry Allen still saw the Hellcat making a turn all by itself, much to his astonishment.
"Beep beep!"
The car even used its horn to alert the slow car in front! Even though he was in technologically advanced Central City, Barry Allen couldn't figure out what kind of technology Ian had added to this car.
When did autonomous driving technology become so mature?
Just as Barry Allen was trying to explain the Hellcat using science, Ian's hand was already pressed against his arm. The next moment, Ian heard a prompt from the system.
[Error data detected!]
[Incompatible!]
The familiar formula, the familiar feedback. Ian had encountered this situation before. It was when he encountered those "half-beasts" while attacking Luthor's wastewater plant outside Metropolis.
"Extraterrestrial universe invasion."
Ian issued a medical diagnosis that was highly likely to be correct.
"Huh? What does that mean?"
Barry Allen didn't quite understand the terminology. So, Ian began to explain the relationship between dimensions and dimensions to the speedster from an extremely grand narrative perspective.
Essentially, he was just copying what Miss Death had said.
The members of the Justice League should indeed know about this.
"The power of an entire universe is trying to kill me... doesn't that mean I'm 100% dead?" Barry Allen remained skeptical of Ian's frightening description.
After all, the statement was too fantastical.
"Not necessarily."
Ian pondered before speaking.
"I can still be saved?"
Barry Allen stared at Ian.
"You could also be directly transformed by the power of an external universe into some kind of evil rebel, a collaborator. Have you heard any crazy whispers in your head recently?"
Ian pinched his chin and asked.
"I do when I dream... Damn it, are you saying all this is true? I'm screwed! I'll die even if I don't die now!" Barry Allen didn't want to believe Ian's judgment either.
But his situation was actually accurately assessed by Ian. If what the boy said was true, then Barry Allen felt he was likely going to be sacrificed.
Speedsters might inherently have such a keen perception of their own destiny.
"Wait for me for a moment."
Ian knew that in this situation, he should report to a superior. He closed his eyes and prayed earnestly, but Miss Death gave him no response.
The intentions of this Goddess.
They were truly hard to fathom.
"Could it be that Lucifer's information shielding is still working?" Ian could only guess this. It couldn't be that Superman couldn't die, but the Flash dying was no big deal, right?
Um.
It wasn't impossible.
Didn't the Flash always die the earliest?
The big shots were already used to the Flash dying early?
Ian was deep in thought.
"Your expression is making me feel nervous." Barry Allen swallowed. His anxiety grew because he had realized that Ian might genuinely possess the so-called Omniscient-brain.
Every superhero knew that Kryptonians liked to cheat.
"This is getting a bit tricky."
Ian looked seriously into the rearview mirror.
Barry's heart skipped a beat.
"What do you mean? Can Superman save me?"
He still had so much faith in Clark.
"Don't worry, Uncle Barry. Just because you trust my old man so much, we can't let you die. Besides, if you die, the twenty thousand-plus favors you owe me will definitely become bad debt."
"I've checked. You're a perpetual bachelor, and you don't have any debt heirs to your name." Ian's reassurance and guarantee did not make Barry Allen feel any better.
Instead, he was so alarmed that he almost jumped up on the spot.
"It was only ten thousand favors a moment ago, and now it's over twenty thousand? Huh? Huh? Huh?" Barry Allen's three consecutive questions fully showed his current inner state.
He didn't even have the presence of mind to emphasize to Ian that he was actually about to catch his true love, in three years at most, no, five years, or maybe six years.
"Loans have interest, let alone saving a life... Uncle Barry, do you know how high the interest rate is for loans from Wayne Enterprises Bank?" The spiteful Ian did not miss the opportunity to attack Old Master Wayne.
Regarding this.
Barry Allen did not dare to comment. After all, he still hadn't paid off most of the mortgage loan he took out from the bank under Wayne Enterprises.
If Ian's favor usury was added to that—all of a sudden, Barry Allen felt that his entire life was pretty much decided. Looking back, dying on the spot and being sacrificed didn't seem so terrifying anymore?
The Flash fell into a state of calm.
The Hellcat performed a beautiful drift and stopped in front of the Winchester home. Ian shoved Sam and Dean through the window into their own house like he was delivering a package. His familiarity with the routine made Barry Allen question again: was Ian's usual occupation truly that of a student?
Seeing Ian return.
"What about this girl?"
He couldn't help but point to Madison, who was curled up in the front seat, and asked Ian.
"She's my good friend. I can't just let her go home and lie down. I need to keep an eye on her condition at all times." With that, Ian took out the eggs he had previously placed on Madison's abdomen.
They were indeed fully cooked.
Barry Allen was astonished to see this scene.
"That body temperature is probably enough to kill a person dozens of times over. I think she should be taken to the hospital." The Flash, who had always advocated for modern science, offered a suggestion.
"Or to Central City. My friends might be able to help." He felt that Madison's powers might be awakening, but the specific situation needed to be investigated with equipment.
"Who's the boss of your lab now?"
Ian asked.
He wanted to use this to peek at the timeline.
"Harrison Wells."
Barry Allen gave an answer that deviated from the timeline.
"No need, thank you."
Ian secretly gave himself a thumbs-up for his caution. "Little Master Ian can save her himself. If other magic leaders saw this, they might think Little Master Ian is incompetent."
He maintained his respect for his elders, refraining from calling himself "Old Master" in front of Uncle Barry. Honestly, sending Madison to the Central City lab was indeed not as good as Ian personally looking after his nurse-like deskmate.
After all.
When a person is about to die, Death will appear, and Ian can see Death and influence Death. No one could guarantee Madison's life safety more than he could.
The Hellcat stopped in the Kent family's small yard.
It had its own dedicated room.
"First, we need ice." Ian didn't like carrying people, so he carried Madison straight toward the door. Barry Allen followed him, limping.
"You could actually carry me on your left shoulder too." Barry Allen plopped onto the living room sofa, took a first aid kit from Ian, and started to treat himself.
The battle suit definitely had to come off.
His body was covered in wounds.
Under the dim light.
Barry Allen, stripped down to only his underwear, began to hastily bandage his wounds with the simple equipment. Ian silently noted his sitting position and decided that area would be his no-go zone forever.
"I need to cool my classmate down." Ian carried Madison into the kitchen, where he saw Jordan squatting by the refrigerator, secretly eating ice cream.
The two brothers' eyes met.
Jordan's gaze locked onto the girl on Ian's shoulder.
After three seconds of silence.
"Mom! Ian killed someone!"
Jordan's scream pierced the night sky. He ran out of the kitchen and shouted upstairs, "He's not pretending anymore! He's ready to switch from not eating beef to eating his classmate's flesh!"
"Just like he told me when he was six!"
Jordan was terrified.
The awakened boy's voice was truly loud, shaking the entire house.
"That was to scare you, to tell you a ghost story." Ian tied several bags of ice to Madison's forehead and stomach. When he walked out of the kitchen, the ice was already melting and dripping.
"Wicked Jordan, how can you malign me so? Don't even think about borrowing money from me in the future." With just one sentence, Ian immediately restored Jordan's composure.
Jordan's roar stopped abruptly.
He thought of his nighttime companion that was blown to pieces, and the price of a new companion. Thus, the scales of justice and kinship in his heart tilted silently.
"What a careless brother. How can you be without your brother's help at a time like this? Brother will go get the chainsaw..." Jordan chose to become the thoughtful second brother.
This scene.
It made the Flash, Barry, who was quietly bandaging his wounds in the living room, stare blankly.
"Doesn't anyone notice I'm here? No, can you guys wait until I'm gone before discussing such terrifying topics?" He waved the bandage in his hand.
However, Jordan had already rushed out the door to the garage.
"What are you guys arguing about when you should be asleep?" Jonathan rubbed his eyes and appeared at the top of the stairs. He had a cross around his neck, Buddhist beads around his waist, and various colorful talismans wrapped around his wrist. "Mom and Dad were called into work overtime because of Ian playing with a large plane in the sky tonight."
Jonathan walked down the stairs. He didn't see the shouting Jordan, but he did see the girl Ian was carrying on his shoulder. His sleepy eyes immediately cleared up.
"Where did you kidnap this girl from?" Jonathan was greatly alarmed and hurried over to check. Finding that Madison still had a pulse, he finally sighed in relief.
Just when the Flash, Barry, who felt like he had been treated as background scenery while silently bandaging his wounds, thought he had finally seen a normal person in the Kent family.
"Ian... you picked up this girl on the road, didn't you? I think it's best to take her to the church. She wasn't murdered, she's definitely possessed by a ghost."
Jonathan suddenly began whispering to Ian. "That ghost is right here in our living room. Yes, my eyes can suddenly see ghosts."
He lowered his voice, forcing himself to remain calm, his voice trembling as he spoke. He kept making eye contact with Ian, signaling Ian to look in the direction of the Flash, Barry Allen.
Ian was a bit confused.
And Jonathan clearly misunderstood Ian's expression.
"Don't be afraid. Big Brother is here. Big Brother bought a lot of holy water at the church." He immediately pulled a bottle from his pocket and threw it toward Barry Allen, as if preparing a sneak attack.
"..."
Barry Allen did not activate the Speed Force, but simply raised his hand and caught the bottle Jonathan threw at him. This sight left Jonathan utterly shocked.
"Quick, Ian! Big Brother has burned out! Take Big Brother away quickly!" Jonathan immediately leaped onto Ian's other shoulder, urging Ian to use the Kryptonian family's super-speed.
"..."
Ian didn't move.
He actually didn't know what was wrong with Jonathan, but he knew that the money Lois and Clark worked hard to earn every day would likely end up benefiting Dr. Hannibal.
"Our family is just like this, you'll get used to it," Ian said to Barry Allen with a smile. The half-naked Flash, covered in blood and wrapped in many bandages, was indeed easy to misunderstand.
In all fairness.
Perhaps Jonathan had overreacted a bit.
But was the Flash completely blameless?
"I finally understand why Clark always says he wants to move back to the farm," Barry Allen murmured with emotion. He felt that the situation with the three Kent children really wasn't suited for living in the city.
As for where they should live.
No matter where that was.
It should be filled with electroshock therapy equipment.
...
Perhaps having heard the Flash suffering.
A loud "bang" sounded in the living room.
Clark Kent rushed into the house like a blue and red meteor.
"Dad!"
Jonathan leaped down from Ian's shoulder.
"I was just joking with them," he seemed to realize that he might have been wrong in his judgment, and he was slightly embarrassed, forcing a smile to try and save face.
"They're not usually like this," Clark thought of the boasts he usually made in the Justice League. His embarrassment at this moment was not much less than Jonathan's.
"Mhm."
What else could the Flash, Barry Allen, respond?
He could only nod gently.
"They're fundamentally good kids," Clark continued to defend his family. Just then, Jordan, who had returned from the garage, entered the living room.
"Ian, I thought about it. You really shouldn't eat your classmate. Why don't we go out and catch some bad guys for you to eat? I know there are some very, very bad streetwalkers in the next block..."
Before he could finish his attempt to persuade Ian, he saw a majestic man standing in the living room. Immediately, the big boy, whose super-hearing was intermittent, felt a fishbone caught in his throat.
The sound stopped abruptly.
"It has nothing to do with me."
Ian quickly distanced himself from his second brother.
"It has nothing to do with me either."
Jonathan immediately followed suit, acting as a copycat.
"..."
Jordan was stunned for a moment and tried to turn and run, but Clark grabbed him and placed him, Ian, and Jonathan side-by-side on the living room sofa.
Big boy, middle boy, little boy sat in a row.
They were all being obedient.
As for Madison, she was still on Ian's shoulder.
Mainly, Clark didn't dare to move her. He had discovered the girl's abnormal body temperature and realized that Ian's deskmate was likely undergoing a transformation that touched upon his blind spot of knowledge.
What if this change could only take place on Ian's shoulder?
Not having much exposure to magical knowledge.
Clark maintained adequate caution.
"I think I overheard your situation," Clark didn't want to lecture his children right now, he was more concerned about the conversation that had taken place between the Flash and Ian.
His gaze turned to the Flash's arm.
Barry Allen sat on the Kent family's old sofa with the corn pattern. The bandage wrapped around his arm couldn't conceal the blue light seeping from the scar underneath.
Looking through the bandage at the wound, Clark's expression was very serious. He felt a familiar sensation, very similar to a situation he had experienced before.
"This kind of injury will slowly consume your life."
Clark still touched his own arm with lingering fear. Only those who had experienced it could understand how helpless and despairing that feeling of consumption was.
"How long do I have to live?"
Barry Allen also looked down at the irreparable wound.
Hearing this.
Clark looked at Ian.
"About seven days after infection?"
Ian quoted the experienced information he had previously surmised.
"Why didn't you tell me that just now? Damn it, does that mean I'm going to die immediately?" Barry was greatly alarmed. He had thought he had at least a few more months to live.
Why was this thing more poisonous than cancer?
"I haven't confessed to Iris and proposed yet!" He emphasized this, not only because he genuinely felt unwilling but also secretly indicating to Ian that he might also leave the ranks of bachelors.
"We could try digging out this piece of flesh?" Ian suggested. It was a very reasonable judgment. While Barry was still weighing the pros and cons.
"I have a chainsaw here."
The ruthless Jordan didn't want to make a trip to the garage for nothing.
"You want me to saw off my hand directly?" Barry Allen's eyes widened, trembling slightly. He recalled Ian's absurd previous actions.
Did this family think anyone could bear the price of losing a hand?
"Not a bad idea."
Ian nodded in agreement.
"Cut off whatever part is uncomfortable. We can surely find a way for it to grow back eventually. At least your life is saved. Even if it doesn't grow back, it probably won't affect Uncle Barry being the fastest man alive."
His words made Barry Allen fall silent.
This hand was his dominant hand.
He still had to live his daily life.
"I think my hand can still be saved. Sometimes my head hurts, and someone talks to me inside. You can't possibly tell me to slice off my head too, right?"
Barry Allen sighed, still wanting to opt for conservative treatment.
"That won't work. The head contains the main body, you can't cut that off at all." Ian suspected Barry had a mental issue, otherwise, why would he have no concept of what could be discarded and what couldn't?
"Actually, I have a suggestion."
At this moment.
Jonathan, who was polishing his cross with one hand and putting a patina on his Buddhist beads with the other, spoke up. "Why don't you convert to God? Then your hand and your soul will both belong to God."
"God definitely won't stand by and watch you die. I've tried it, it works great. There really are gods in our world." He felt that he was offering experienced, practical advice.
However.
Only Ian was deep in thought.
The others didn't take it too seriously.
The Flash, Barry Allen, gave no response at all, merely looking at Clark with a pitiful expression.
"You three, go back to your rooms."
Clark spoke.
Jordan and Jonathan did as they were told.
Ian did too.
The three moved in unison, as if going through military training.
However.
"You need to stay. You should know more about this kind of thing than I do." The old father stopped Ian, who was preparing to go upstairs to wash up and prepare to enter the Marvel world.
Checking the time, he still had over forty minutes, so Ian could only nod helplessly.
"Wait for me for a moment."
He found a sleeping bag in the locker, stuffed Madison into it, and sat back down on the sofa.
"Why don't you put your classmate in your bed and you sleep on the sofa tonight?" Clark noticed that Madison seemed able to be removed from Ian's shoulder and put on the sofa.
"Madison and I are indeed friends, but that doesn't mean she can use my bed. That's a matter of principle." Ian actually wanted to be able to monitor whether Death arrived at any time.
Clark's temple twitched.
Then, he sighed.
"Your classmate's abnormal situation should be related to what happened downtown this afternoon?" The old father's super-brain was actually functioning as it should most of the time.
The information was connected.
"I was brave and fearless, saved the world, and I even saved the Flash tonight."
Ian nodded. He also wanted to employ his creative talent to exaggerate his accomplishments slightly, but his little scheme was seen right through by Clark.
"I won't hit you tonight."
Clark had indeed seen through Ian's little plan.
Ian felt reassured.
"Where is your Goddess?"
Clark continued to ask.
He still remembered how he was rescued.
"The Goddess isn't answering, she's acting aloof. Maybe she doesn't like the Flash?" Ian said, unsure. He truly hadn't received any response from Miss Death.
"What Goddess? And... I haven't offended anyone, have I? Why would someone dislike me?" Barry was completely confused, still not quite grasping the situation. So, Clark gave a brief explanation about his youngest son, essentially the matter of Ian being favored by a genuine Goddess.
Evidently.
The old father had researched the information Ian had provided about "Death."
"Hiss, no wonder he said he was Omniscient." Barry looked at Ian with suspicion. Since the Justice League included demigods like Wonder Woman.
His level of acceptance for these matters was relatively high. The only thing that puzzled the Flash was that he usually didn't have the opportunity to offend such beings, did he?
"Beings like that are too far away from us. We can't rely on the will of the universe to have pity on us," Clark sighed, looking at the stars outside the window.
Although he felt very uncomfortable, the Flash agreed with this statement.
"First you, then me, this is definitely not a coincidence," Clark said, pulling out his phone and dialing a number. "I have a very strong feeling."
"This so-called extra-dimensional invasion is probably not a simple problem." Superman's call was quickly answered, and a low voice belonging to Bruce Wayne came from the other end.
He hadn't even started to explain the situation.
"I'll be there right away."
Bruce Wayne's deep voice already sounded like he understood everything.
This did not surprise anyone.
Everyone knew the Batman's reputation. He couldn't monitor Superman's house, but he certainly could monitor the Flash. In fact, some of the components on the Flash's suit came from Wayne Enterprises' raw material supply.
"In this situation, I find it a little strange that Uncle Bruce hasn't been corrupted. He should have been the first to suffer," Ian was both polite and slightly impolite.
His confusion, from his perspective, wasn't actually aimed at Bruce.
However.
The sound of Bruce hanging up the phone was still very rude.
"Beep, beep, beep."
The dial tone sounded.
Clark was just about to put his phone down.
He seemed to remember something else.
"You need to call Dr. Hannibal back. He asked about you after he woke up this afternoon and found you were gone," Clark handed his phone to Ian.
Ian took the phone and walked to the window.
He used the half-broken phone Batman had given him to make the call. After all, using Clark's phone a little less and saving some on the phone bill would allow the family to save a bit more money.
"Hello,"
After the call connected.
The crisp sound of cutlery clinking came from the background.
Hannibal seemed to be eating.
"You sound like you're having a feast."
Ian sniffed, as if he could smell the food through the phone.
"Beef liver with red wine, a classic that never goes out of style," Hannibal's voice was still elegant. He seemed to be listening to music, this man really knew how to live when he was off work.
"That's very hearty."
Ian picked up his notebook.
He started searching for death records of people who had lost their liver.
"Ian, you woke up before me this afternoon, didn't you?" Hannibal asked again in a puzzled voice. What happened that afternoon had indeed caught everyone off guard.
"I don't know what happened. I woke up lying in the middle of the street. Maybe I was abducted by aliens and then released?" Ian did not tell the truth.
Hannibal did not voice any skepticism.
"I imagine being interviewed must be exhausting," he simply said softly to Ian. Before Ian could respond, he proactively changed the subject.
"This session's consultation will not be charged due to unexpected circumstances."
It must be said.
Professional ethics perhaps still had a place with Hannibal.
"Thank you, Dr. Lecter."
Ian quickly expressed his thanks.
Maintaining the appropriate courtesy.
"I can sense in your voice some unasked questions you have for me," Hannibal continued. His perception of a patient's emotions was indeed somewhat abnormal.
"Um."
Ian mainly hadn't found the death information of relevant people yet.
"Actually, it's like this," Ian chose to shift the topic in another direction. "A friend of mine has amnesia. Is there any way to make him remember the intimate relationship I had with him?"
He asked very sincerely.
Which was met with a long silence from Dr. Hannibal.
"Implanting false memories in someone else is an illegal act," Dr. Hannibal gave a cautious reminder after realizing Ian seemed very insistent on the question.
"What if the law doesn't protect him?"
Ian spoke, refusing to give up.
He felt that the Dream Lord should not be a legal American citizen.
Hearing this.
Hannibal was silent again for a moment.
"If it's purely for academic research, there is a technique in psychology called 'dream inception.'" He ultimately chose to answer Ian's question.
"In that case, forget it. I can't grow hedgehog quills on my face, so I lack the confidence to use that trick," Ian regretted. He didn't want to show off his limited abilities in front of the Dream Lord.
"I can hear many metaphorical undertones in your words. This might be a way for you to close off your inner self. If you ever need to talk about anything, you can find me at any time."
Hannibal profiled Ian thoughtfully.
He was actually quite kind.
Hopefully, it wasn't because he thought the livers of children without worries were more tender.
"Good night, Dr. Hannibal. Since you showed concern for me, I should show concern for you too. Honestly, you should really eat more vegetables on a daily basis."
Ian chose to hang up the phone after speaking.
On the other end of the dial tone.
"A very difficult patient."
Hannibal sat in his dining room, elegantly eating beef liver with red wine.
Candlelight reflected off the blood-red sauce on the table.
He thoughtfully chewed the last piece of beef liver.
Then, the sound of a key turning was heard. A young girl humming a tune walked in. A few freckles on the tip of her nose made her look like the kind of girl-next-door that Caucasians loved most.
"I'm home."
The girl's voice came from the foyer.
Accompanied by the crisp sound of high heels tapping the floor.
"Oh? I smell fresh veal cutlets. You brought me a present." Hannibal looked up, a slight smile on his lips, revealing an almost perfect, gentle smile that could make anyone drop their guard.
"Your nose is as sensitive as ever. Will said he came looking for you this afternoon?" The girl changed into a pair of slippers, carrying a bag of groceries, and walked toward the kitchen refrigerator.
"Is Will asking you again who my favorite patient is?" Hannibal also put down his dining knife. The silver handle glinted coldly in the light.
"Yes, he contacts me often. Perhaps he likes me."
The girl stared at the drinks in the refrigerator as if searching.
Cold air rushed out like a thin mist, brushing against her cheek. The LED light in the refrigerator illuminated her profile—young, delicate, and full of vitality.
"Keep your distance from him."
Hannibal walked in from outside, pulling a narrow-bladed boning knife from the knife block behind the girl. The blade flipped between his fingers like a silver snake.
"Excellent veal cutlets shouldn't be stored in the refrigerator. Tonight... let's have an extra meal." Saying this, Hannibal, holding the knife, walked toward the girl, whose back was to him.
His leather shoes stepped on the floor without making a sound.
"You still love meat so much."
The girl didn't turn around, she just lamented. Her finger rested on one of the refrigerator shelves. Her voice was full of emotion, speaking casually as if discussing the weather.
"I also had a patient today who advised me to eat more vegetables, but I think protein intake is very important," Hannibal replied softly, standing behind the girl.
The girl still didn't turn around.
She simply took a piece of beef wrapped in butcher paper from the shopping bag and handed it behind her.
"I need it well-done."
The girl even made a request.
Hearing this.
Hannibal chuckled softly.
He took the beef, his thumb tracing the texture of the meat, as if stroking a piece of art. Then, the man walked to the cutting board, and the blade lightly sliced the wrapping paper.
A faint tearing sound came from the cutting board.
"Normally, I wouldn't satisfy a request that so desecrates superior ingredients," Hannibal's tone carried a hint of helplessness. He began to prepare the ingredient the girl had given him.
"But you are my sister."
The man's tone became affectionate.
"If you truly love me, then you should transfer Will to me. His situation is too special," the girl took the opportunity to make her request, looking at Hannibal with a pleading gaze.
Evidently.
This girl was also a psychology expert.
"Will is dangerous, and I need you to stay away from danger," Hannibal's hand paused for a moment, the tip of the knife suspended over the beef. He refused his sister with a firm tone.
"A person's mind can become very unstable after the death of a wife and child, but what we psychologists do is help them regain peace."
The girl neither agreed nor disagreed with Hannibal's assessment.
She still persisted.
"Will is different."
Hannibal lowered his head to prepare the ingredient. The blade came down again, precisely dividing the meat. The cutting board issued a rhythmic tapping sound. The meat was cut into perfect sizes.
The force of every cut was terrifyingly precise.
"Brother, you should really be a butcher," the girl, drinking orange juice, walked up to Hannibal. After lamenting for a moment, she asked a curious question.
"What makes Will different from your other patients?"
She was still trying to pry into the patient's situation.
"I've smelled the scent of blood on him several times recently..."
Hannibal stopped his actions and looked out the window.
At some point, a light rain had begun outside.
Raindrops trailed down the glass window, like transparent snakes.
"That is definitely not the smell of animal blood."
His voice deepened, like a stone plunging into the deep sea. The girl silently finished the last sip of orange juice. The glass made a slight clinking sound when placed on the counter.
"Oops."
The girl gasped in surprise.
"Be careful."
Hannibal quickly helped his sister apply a bandage.
Outside the house.
The sound of rain intensified.
On the street of dazzling lights.
The neon lights blurred into smudges of color in the rain. A man in a black raincoat stood in the alleyway. Rainwater dripped from the brim of his hat, collecting in small puddles on the ground.
"Here's the money."
The man's voice was hoarse.
As if he hadn't spoken for a long time.
A few thugs handed over a black briefcase. He took it with one hand, the other remaining tucked in his pocket.
"Next time, same time. Don't make me come looking for you." The man didn't open the case immediately, only lightly tested its weight, then nodded and turned to leave.
He walked toward a car parked by the curb, opened the door, and tossed the briefcase onto the passenger seat. The lid popped open slightly, and the contents inside were vaguely visible.
It was a very fresh head.
"This afternoon, that boy, he noticed something was wrong with me. He needs to die, but I don't eat boys. I have to find a way to dispose of his body," the man muttered with a grim expression while driving.
He seemed to be talking to himself.
And also to a person who only existed in his imagination.
[Will Graham]
On the passenger seat.
The name tag on his clothes reflected the light from passing car headlights.
Shining with a metallic luster.
Very conspicuous.
Perhaps.
Good people can turn bad.
And bad people can turn good.
To complete such a story.
All it takes is fate to pluck its strings slightly.
...
Rain slid off the eaves.
The Kent house roof had been fixed long ago.
It wouldn't leak.
Ian was ultimately squeezed dry of information, and then his ruthless father sent him back to his room.
"The Justice League is gathering, but I'm not in it. This is so upsetting," the moment the door closed, he flopped onto the bed like a fish washed ashore. The spring mattress groaned under the strain.
Madison was thrown under the bed by Ian.
She really shouldn't sleep on the bed.
"After I wake up, I need to make a long-term plan. The Justice League cannot be without me, just like that place cannot be without Jerusalem." Ian looked at the alarm clock on his desk.
His timing was always very precise.
More accurate than some struggling authors' update times.
Look.
Not long after he returned to the room.
The minute and hour hands perfectly overlapped on the "definitely shouldn't be awake" mark. The next moment, Ian fell straight back onto the pillow like a robot whose power had been pulled.
The instant he closed his eyes.
A new world was already presenting itself before him.
"Oh, got a guest so early?"
A hearty laugh rang out. Ian found himself in a restaurant. The fragmented golden light reflected by the crystal chandelier made him feel momentarily dazed.
"Where did my friend end up?"
Ian found himself sitting at a carved walnut dining table. The deep red velvet chair was as soft as a giant's palm. A strange aroma, a mix of rosemary and sea salt, drifted through the air.
"This is the Son of Odin Western Restaurant."
The hearty man's voice rang out again.
Ian looked up.
He saw.
A bearded man in a stained apron was clanging a steel fork against an iron pot.
"Would you like to try a giant octopus, just shipped from Asgard to Earth, still thrashing alive?" The man's belly was as round as an over-fermented loaf of bread, and several suspicious scales were caught in his golden-red beard.
It was.
Thor.
***
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