SUP Chapter 100: Superman's Corruption? Returning to Marvel! (Part Two)

Clark immediately went forward with concern.

"That car outside... whose is it? It's the car I said I really liked when I was young, you said you couldn't afford it, and I thought you were honest, so I decided to marry you!"

Lois was somewhat linguistically confused, letting the children hear some old stories. Her face was full of disbelief, showing that her inner emotions were truly fluctuating greatly.

"Hellcat! Yes, that's it! Where did this car come from?"

Lois's voice was several degrees higher than usual.

"It's Ian's car."

Clark sighed wearily in response.

"I knew it was his!" Lois rushed toward the liquor cabinet, pulled out a bottle of red wine, opened the cap, and started guzzling it directly down her throat.

"Well, that car is quite strange."

Clark didn't know how to respond either, only managing a dry, awkward laugh. Due to letting Ian take the blame during dinner, the guilty father felt he should try to help Ian keep this car.

"Can you believe it? That car actually asked me to bring it two blankets, and it even played tonight's cold weather forecast for me. I've never encountered anything so bizarre in my life!"

Lois drank an entire bottle of red wine in one go, her mood slightly calming.

Upon hearing this, Jonathan and Jordan simultaneously turned their heads, their eyes bright as if they had discovered a new world.

"What!?"

"A talking car!? That's so cool?!" Boys were always attracted to these strange and wonderful things, as if they didn't even think it was weird for a car to need blankets.

That was normal.

After all, most American boys would let the car sleep on the bed while they slept on the floor if they had such a car.

"Uh..."

Lois leaned against the liquor cabinet and reached for a second bottle of red wine, "It's not directly talking, but it can play radio broadcasts, you know, like... Transformers?"

Saying this, Mom gulped down another bottle of red wine.

"What! Transformers! Isn't that even cooler?!" The brothers exclaimed in unison, instantly jumping up from the sofa and rushing to the window, pressing their noses almost against the glass to look outside.

"Ian and I have the best relationship. He'll definitely let me drive it!"

"Damn, I need to get my driver's license tomorrow!"

"You're still young. You can't handle it. Let big brother... I didn't even awaken the Superman gene. I need comfort!"

...

The two brothers were arguing.

And Lois, after drinking two bottles of red wine, had a slightly flushed face.

She swayed as she walked toward the storage room.

"Honey, what are you going to do?"

Clark quickly followed, his tone slightly nervous. He was very worried that Lois wanted to go smash Ian's car, feeling this would surely cause a new wave of family conflict.

"Of course, I'm getting blankets for the Transformer." Lois's tone paused, and she took another sip from the wine in her hand, "Mm, indeed everything feels reasonable after drinking."

"That car said it can also fly. If I cover it with blankets and praise it a few times in front of Ian, it's willing to take me flying once." Lois was busying herself without looking back.

"..."

Clark watched his wife rush toward the backyard with two down comforters in her arms.

Leaving him alone looking helpless.

The father had originally wanted to talk to his two sons, but unexpectedly, Jonathan and Jordan also ran from the window toward the front door, looking like they wanted to go take care of Ian's little car together with Mom.

"What! It can fly too!"

"I've only seen cars like this in movies!"

Jonathan and Jordan's voices were full of amazement and longing. Seeing his two sons also run into the small yard, Clark suddenly felt that he, "the world's most powerful superhero," was a bit redundant.

"Actually, I can fly too. Does anyone want to go for a ride with Superman?" Clark leaned against the door frame and even used his super voice a little.

Even using his supreme bubble voice, no one responded.

No one even looked back.

The only thing that answered him was the car radio from the yard playing "I Believe I Can Fly."

"..."

Clark suddenly didn't want to keep his youngest son's car so much anymore.

He looked somewhat lonely.

He could only pick up the cat that had run to the door to comfort himself.

"Let me think, what should you be called, lucky little guy."

Clark looked toward the second floor while the cat trembled, the culprit's room still had its lights on. In the second-floor bedroom, Ian was sitting cross-legged in front of the computer reading today's news.

The screen had more than ten news web pages open.

《Shocking! Mysterious Street Fainting Incident, Experts Say It May Be Mass Hysteria》

《Aliens or Government Experiment? All Fainted Citizens Recover, Raising Questions》

《Eyewitness Claims to Have Seen Two Aliens Fighting to the Death, Is It New Drugs Causing Hallucinations?》

《Perhaps Silently, an Unknown Hero Saved 8,650 People in a Mysterious Crisis!》

...

The initial news wasn't much.

But seeing the last article full of positive energy and praise, Ian really didn't know whether to be happy or sad. Actually, no one knew it was the Ancestor who had created so much merit!

"If I had known no one would claim compensation, I would have left the Ancestor's name behind." Ian suspected that in this world full of superheroes, the government might have a special fund for superhero cleanup.

Looking at the continued browsing, there were many more news articles praising unknown heroes, but no one knew who it was. Ian couldn't help but sneak into Jordan's room to retrieve his "lost" phone.

"Did any reporters find you?" Ian sent all those pretentious photos to little delinquent Madison and also sent a text message to test the situation.

The little delinquent wasn't sleeping late at night, and her new phone replied super fast.

[Yes yes! But I said I didn't remember anything and drove away all the reporters. My acting was super amazing!] The little delinquent's reply didn't earn Ian's praise.

Instead, it made Ian confirm that he was indeed slightly upset.

"Although I'm not Homelander, I'm superstitious. I'm afraid the merit won't fall on my head." Ian knew that the structure of this world truly had the saying that good people go to heaven.

And he also knew that the angels in heaven were all slacking off. What if they really miscalculated his merit? Who would he complain to? This subtle worry in Ian's heart made him decide to do something.

Thinking of this, Ian's eyes immediately lit up.

"Clatter~"

For the next several hours, Ian began using his hand speed to register hundreds of accounts on major forums, frantically playing the role of [survivor] to educate the public about who saved the world, after all, stopping the demon prince's plot to descend to the human world could indeed be considered saving the world.

His computer's virus king.

A 2D girl's icon popped up at this time. It was a Q-version little figure with hair colored like sky-blue gradients that would bounce like little wings when tied in twin tails during movement. It had impossible 2.5-head-to-body proportions that couldn't exist in reality, with small hands and feet as round as marshmallows.

There was faint pink shading at the knees and elbows exquisitely crafted.

Clearly the product of high-level artwork.

"When did you start chasing superhero stars?" A small bubble with text appeared above the blue-haired girl's icon. It was the greatest contributor to the peaceful coexistence of viruses in Ian's computer.

"Of course, since I realized heroes deserve to be praised." Ian replied quickly, then locked this virus that had been stubbornly staying for many years into the locked folder in the bottom right corner.

Nothing much to chat about.

He always felt that on the other side of the icon must be some foot-picking big guy.

The kind with masochistic tendencies.

Because the locked folder was also something this virus had stuffed into Ian's computer. Since he had just been to his second brother's room, Ian also thought of the [Superhero Popularity Center] website that his second brother had mentioned before.

With such a website, how could he be absent?

A flash of inspiration, Ian began frantically creating new hero profiles.

[Stocking Superman (Feature: Stockings that never break)]

[Ancestor (Feature: Likes to make everyone call him daddy)]

[Second Uncle's Grandfather Immortal Venerable (Feature: Good at using "generational suppression," likes to force enemies to kowtow for New Year greetings)]

[Dance God Warrior (Feature: Unstoppable dance steps)]

...

[Bald Immeasurable Buddha]

When Ian created the twenty-fifth profile, he thought about it and still deleted this hero profile. The cost was too great. Even in the most coincidental circumstances, he definitely wouldn't be willing to put on such a mask.

"This is the deep thinking that Batman brought me. Whether I use it or not, I must have enough backup masks." Just when Ian was preparing to create another hundred profiles.

He found that he had been restricted from uploading information by the website.

 [I'm Really Not Batman: ????]

A private message popped up.

Ian clicked block without hesitation and found he couldn't block it.

He immediately picked up his phone.

"Beep beep beep~"

This time it wasn't the mentally challenged voicemail.

"What are you doing?"

The familiar voice, familiar questioning, could only be the familiar Batman.

"Unblock it, just once." Ian had already guessed the truth. This website was probably Batman's phishing website used to collect information from the public.

"Beep beep beep~"

The other party directly hung up Ian's call.

Ian soon discovered that although he couldn't continue creating new profiles, he could still edit the profiles he had already created. Presumably, Bruce had thoughtfully given him partial permissions after careful consideration.

[His great-great-grandfather was a slave hanged by a plantation owner on an oak tree in 1863.]

[His great-grandmother was a Chinese laundry woman born during Prohibition, who had half her face burned by fire due to the "Yellow Peril theory." His mother was a Latin American illegal immigrant fleeing famine.]

[When his mother gave birth to him at the US-Mexico border, he discovered he also had a little bit of Native American blood...]

Heroes needed origins.

And Ian chose the origin most suitable for the American stage for the Ancestor.

After all, Ian was fragile.

He couldn't bear to see people criticizing him online.

So giving the Ancestor the correct buffs was very important, this wasn't difficult for an excellent writer, and even made Ian's [Writer] profession level up due to deep thinking.

[Writer LV2 (1/20)]

Successfully gained general skill points, but as an ordinary profession, it didn't have a dedicated skill tree. Ian didn't have urgent needs, so he didn't bother with it for now.

He fully utilized his talent.

[His battle suit isn't fabric, but a thousand years of heritage!]Ian even found the most suitable excuse for possibly continuing to use disposable cheap battle suits in the future.

[He delivers food and washes dishes during the day, only practicing being a superhero at night. He was once homeless, sleeping in cars, but it was the dream of becoming a superhero that gave him hope.]

[Depression and cancer didn't defeat the Ancestor. The Ancestor was denied by Superman and denied by Batman, but all of this didn't shatter his heart that protects the world.]

Ian was writing and even became somewhat moved.

Then, he saw that in his edited document, the name [Batman] had been mysteriously deleted and refilled with the name [Green Arrow].

"????"

Ian was greatly shocked by such an operation.

Business warfare tactics.

Batman even used them in the superhero track?

What a terrifying capitalist!

"What a dirty heart."

Ian found that he couldn't modify the entry no matter what. Helplessly, he could only choose to give up. He had tinkered enough today, and his mask background was already full enough.

"This will be the Ancestor's defense even stronger than the Man of Steel!" Ian was in a great mood. Looking at the time, it was about right. He got up and pulled the demon skull out of his backpack.

"Oh, great Ian Kent, I feel I'm about to evolve. I just need a few more demons..." The demon skull issued crazy praise for Ian.

However, it didn't achieve very good results.

Ian's mood remained unmoved.

Before the other party finished speaking, he stuffed this head into new furniture in the room, it was an alloy cabinet with many things carved on the surface that Ian couldn't understand.

However, regarding the security of this cabinet for storing items, Ian had no doubt even though he didn't understand it. After all, this was a cabinet his father had brought back from Uncle Bruce's house tonight. Although the bat logo on it hadn't been completely scraped off, it didn't prevent Ian from pretending not to see it.

He knew, father's old friend Uncle Bruce had everything at his house.

Like Doraemon Bruce, much more loyal than that [I'm Really Not Batman] on the forum.

"Oh, these are traces of magic and technology, used to imprison magical creatures like me. What a powerful tool. Great Ian can indeed create anything."

Even though locked in a new cage, the demon skull was still praising frantically. This chattering head had figured out some things during these few hours of silence.

Serving the Three Palace Demon certainly had broad prospect but changing allegiance might not be less promising.

It also wanted to maintain firm faith.

But having eaten the demon prince, the bull-headed demon felt it really couldn't go back... It had no way to personally apologize to the Three Palace Demon, mainly because demons' nature of being good at betrayal made it unable to refuse.

"Praise Ian God!"

Who said hell couldn't have a new master.

The bull-headed demon now only felt it must be bootlicker enough.

In this way, its family should also prosper in hell starting from its generation. Although Ian abused it, scared it, and tested it, it felt Ian's nature could definitely be a good hell king.

"Shut up!"

Ian stuffed Jordan's used socks into the bull-headed demon's mouth.

Tasting that disgusting flavor.

The bull-headed demon was even more convinced of its choice.

Being like this at just over ten years old.

What would it be like after more than ten thousand years?

Under the bull-headed demon's "affectionate" gaze, Ian felt the other party had some serious brain problems. He fiercely closed the cabinet door and lay on the bed holding the [Ian's Magic Book].

Time was approaching.

Seeing that Lady Death still hadn't come to find him, Ian certainly couldn't wait any longer. He also didn't have the right to wait. The Marvel Universe's call for him would come as scheduled every day.

"Tonight, I need to change to a mage class."

Ian wanted to study the magical book in his hands clearly.

However, a world-shaking person should only study their own world-shaking magic. So Ian was also trying to find a way to make himself the source of magic. He knew that the almighty Tony God in the Marvel Universe could definitely help him.

"I just don't know what the price will be."

With anticipation, Ian fell into a deep sleep as the clock struck midnight.

...

At the same time.

The night was deep.

The hallway at midnight was empty. In the room near the parents' room on the second floor, the young man on the bed had his brow furrowed, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead.

Jonathan Kent's fingers unconsciously gripped the bed sheets, his knuckles white from exertion.

As if having a nightmare.

"Power..."

Perhaps it was indeed a kind of nightmare.

In the dream, Jonathan stood in a void, with a shattered galaxy beneath his feet and a twisted black sun overhead. The whispers in his ears were like cold snakes, crawling from his spine all the way to the back of his neck.

"We can give you power"

The voices seemed to come from all directions.

Jonathan looked around blankly but only saw countless "selves" floating in the void, some wearing Kryptonian battle suits, some covered in blood, some with only two black holes where their eye sockets should be.

"Are you willing?"

The strange, low voice suddenly seemed very close.

"Damn! What is this place?" Jonathan looked around, unable to see any source of the voice. Even when he covered his ears, those words drilled directly into his brain.

"Jordan, Ian, they have both become members of that supreme race."

"And you?"

"Mediocre and wasting your life? Even training accidents that could happen anytime on the field have left you with irreversible injuries. Do you really think you can avoid your destined tragic fate?"

The voice entered his ears.

Tempting and seductive.

Images of family portraits appeared in the void, Clark and Jordan laughing in the clouds, Ian making faces while holding a talking car, Lois holding a Pulitzer Prize trophy in the spotlight.

And him.

Jonathan.

Standing at the very edge like a background actor who had mistakenly wandered into a superhero movie.

"No!"

Jonathan unconsciously shook his head.

"You... or all of you! Who exactly are you! What are you trying to do?" His attitude was extremely firm, but no matter how he ran, he seemed unable to escape this illusory dreamscape.

"We are like you, once failures."

That voice sounded again.

"However, if you can help us... we can climb to new heights in this world together!" The demonic voice entered his ears, as if it wanted to seep into Jonathan's soul word by word.

"Get lost!"

Jonathan roared in anger.

Thunder flashed, as if illuminating countless shadows in the darkness.

Those things that didn't belong to this universe.

[NEXT CHAPTER]