SUP Chapter 93: Level Up! Still Fucking Level Up!

Today, the sun was shining brightly.

The weather was pleasant and mild.

However, the bull-headed demon felt that he had never walked on such thin ice in his entire life.

True hell was nothing more than this.

The place he used to stay in might have been fake hell.

"Let me go, let me go." The futile attempt to struggle using facial muscles was in vain. Ian skillfully squeezed the demon's head toward the fuel tank opening like squeezing toothpaste.

"I don't have hell blood! Please... don't do this." No wonder they say demons love to lie, their mouths are dishonest, but the "flash flood" bursting from the severed neck couldn't deceive Ian's eyes.

Amid the demon's screams.

The fuel tank emitted "glug glug" swallowing sounds.

No one knew what kind of principle this was, neither it nor the other thing were scientific, but that didn't prevent them from both being reasonable. At least Ian didn't feel any surprise about it.

The book "World's Unsolved Mysteries" held a high position in his heart.

Things that couldn't be explained naturally just needed to be categorized into it, and everything would have a reasonable origin. Ian had always dealt with things he didn't understand this way since childhood.

Oil may be precious, but human plasma is more valuable.

If it's for demon blood, both can be discarded.

In Ian's view, his newly bought Hellcat having unique tastes wasn't troublesome at all, but rather a cost-effective choice. The demon's head was amazingly like a sponge.

No matter how hard you squeezed it, there always seemed to be residue left. The demon's descendants might not be endless, but hell blood was obviously available in whatever quantity needed.

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

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

"There is, there is. MacArthur... uh, anyway, I heard someone say that demon blood, take half each time, and it will never run out for ten thousand generations." Ian naturally wouldn't believe the demon's lies.

Fueling up the little car was something both experienced and novice drivers knew had to be done completely at once, otherwise the Mexicans next door would definitely mock them that the people of free America couldn't afford gas.

"What fuel I use is up to me. This is fuel freedom in the free democratic world." Ian found solid legal support for his actions.

A world where only hell residents were hurt was achieved.

Just exploiting demons.

Since demons weren't legal citizens of America, but just identity-less immigrants who had smuggled from hell to America, Ian's exploitation of it could only be considered following the crowd and conforming to the mainstream.

"I've always said I'm very good at adapting to environments. My nickname should be Dr. Darwin." Ian finished fueling up and casually threw the wrinkled, lifeless demon head back into his backpack.

Although he had already cleaned the demon's No. 66 fuel nozzle, its wailing was too sorrowful. For the cleanliness and hygiene of the backpack, a few sanitary pads were definitely still needed.

It was just a matter of stopping by a roadside convenience store.

"What's crying?"

The cashier had sharp ears.

"Nothing, I'm listening to music."

Ian's expression was calm and composed. He wasn't suspected at all, nor did he worry about encountering animal protection organizations. He had checked on his phone, demons weren't on the animal protection organization's protection list.

America had its own national conditions.

Animal protection organizations basically wouldn't even glance at projects with no profit potential.

Even if a demon's head rolled to the door of the animal protection association, it wouldn't be able to successfully file a complaint. It could only huddle in a corner with the immigrant representative Donut King Wei Heng.

Ian had mastered social rules since he was eight years old. Just as he said, setting aside life-threatening situations, he was actually very good at adapting to environments.

"You're buying sanitary pads for your girlfriend? Such good boys are rare these days." The convenience store clerk liked to chat, but as a multimillionaire, Ian felt he should have the demeanor of a rich person.

"No, I'm buying them for my brother's reserve happy cup." Ian tried to appear economical with words, learning from the elites by raising his hand, though unfortunately there was no watch on his wrist to check the time.

But this didn't stump him.

It was just a matter of borrowing a pen to scribble and draw.

"Your music stopped playing... did your player run out of battery?" After taking back the pen he lent Ian, the cashier wasn't very bright and couldn't figure out what Ian was talking about for a long time.

Happy cups were usually used with tissues, right?

To need equipment like sanitary pads.

Could there really be naturally gifted spray warriors in this world?

The cashier pondered thoughtfully.

He seemed to recall some scenes from bizarre movies he secretly watched at midnight.

"It's not out of battery, my player was just slightly startled by me." Ian achieved the desired effect and stopped there, not continuing to intimidate the demon head.

After all, he was a kind-hearted good person.

"Oh, oh."

The cashier was impressed without understanding.

Ian stuffed the sanitary pads into his backpack and walked out the door, returning to the empty lot where his test drive car was parked. He had definitely made a profit, the Dodge Hellcat was the name of high-performance car models under the American Dodge brand.

Famous worldwide for its violent power and American muscle car culture concept.

Ian's was the even more extreme Demon version. True to its name, with large displacement, rear-wheel drive, and strong straight-line acceleration ability, it was a typical representative of "horsepower is justice."

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

"The killing little car drives crazily~"

"Nine people all deserved what they got. I'm not an ordinary little car, I'm an avenger~"

...

When Ian approached the Hellcat, the car's radio was playing songs, and the exhaust pipe was also rhythmic, continuously spitting out blue flames with a sulfur smell.

The lyrics were exciting.

It was also excited, obviously the hell demon blood was greatly beneficial to it.

At first glance, it was a wild boar that had never drunk fine wine.

"Nine soul rings, collecting the seven deadly sins, the remaining two soul rings, one disrespecting you by using your steering wheel to extinguish cigarette butts, the other filling your fuel tank with soybean oil?"

No wonder songs touch people's hearts.

Ian felt the emotions the other party wanted to express.

"Listen, buddy." Ian spoke like a life mentor on TV, "Killing is wrong. Even if they offended you, you can only send them to prison."

"Only when I've built a prison in hell can you send people to hell... This is the so-called no-kill principle. Do you understand? I've seen Batman, and you definitely haven't."

Ian knew he had encountered a morally corrupt, evil-minded, ruthless little car, but he also firmly believed that someday he could reform it and make it a good car again.

"Amen~"

The Hellcat's radio suddenly switched to a Christian station.

As if it had been somewhat reformed.

"That's right!"

Ian nodded with satisfaction, "When you're excellent enough, kind enough, worthy of my second-generation holy soul, I'll ask my teacher Tony to teach me how to evolve you into a Transformer."

He made a promise.

Mature multimillionaires had known since childhood how to be a capitalist who casually painted big pictures.

"Thank you~~"

The Hellcat switched to a station with comedic performers thanking audiences.

The car body trembled with excitement.

You could tell it had good aesthetics and was experiencing PUA for the first time in its life. The Hellcat's four doors automatically opened, and Ian chose to plop down in the passenger seat.

"From now on, this is Ian's exclusive seat." Ian fastened his seatbelt, and the seat automatically adjusted to the most comfortable angle. On the passenger dashboard in front of him, a line of carved-like text slowly appeared.

[For Ian's Exclusive Use]

The calligraphy formed by the letters was quite elegant.

Ian was extremely satisfied.

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

"Let's go! Street cruising!" Ian gave the command.

The Hellcat immediately shot out like an arrow released from a bow.

What is intelligent driving? This is intelligent driving! The Hellcat weaved through traffic like a black mamba snake. Ian even felt he could hear echoes from the old "man."

"Vroom vroom vroom~"

The engine was roaring.

Although this was a wild car, it obviously also had a side that could smell roses delicately. Even when speed and passion were overflowing, it still obeyed traffic rules and knew not to run red lights.

"Right, right, obeying traffic rules starts with you."

Ian felt his killer car might really still be salvageable and could receive God's forgiveness. Here he should believe in God, because if he believed in the Father God, his car would probably be sent for scrapping.

Ian was enjoying the superior experience brought by intelligent driving. Outside the window, the harmonious daytime society of Metropolis constantly passed by his eyes. There was always so much tension between homeless people and urban elites.

"Give me back my bag!"

"Ma'am! Look at my skin color!"

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

"Damn! Even so, I must take this bag that nature has gifted to me. I'm a gambler, so I bet my life is worth more than Superman's!"

"I will win!"

...

Beautiful beyond compare.

Daily life in Metropolis was always like this.

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

He had no intention of getting out of the car to stop it. In a society of survival of the fittest, whoever had less strength couldn't keep their bag. Natural law was thoroughly demonstrated in this country.

He could save one.

But couldn't save all.

A bag bought from a black person was recycled by black people again. As a second-generation Superman, Ian was also unable to stop this market law. Hayek's big hand would know how to regulate itself.

"Stop the car!"

It wasn't until police sirens broke this "contemplative" moment that Ian withdrew his gaze from appreciating the scenery. Facing the police, the Hellcat also chose to be law-abiding.

It might love being law-abiding just like Ian.

"It's you again! Stan Lee, right?" The familiar traffic cop walked over with a stern face, tapping the car window with his finger, looking from the empty driver's seat window to see Ian sitting steadily in the passenger seat.

Ian remembered this face, the culprit from the last fire hydrant incident.

"Driver's license."

The traffic cop looked enviously at Ian's new car.

His voice was serious.

"It was revoked."

Ian often blinked when lying.

Hearing this, the traffic cop showed an expression of "as expected." Ian's previous driving performance was still vivid in his memory. "Very good. I'm sorry to inform you that you might be arrested by me."

He said this while taking out his handcuffs, signaling Ian to get out of the car.

"I wasn't even driving. The car was moving by itself. What license do I need?" Ian sat steadily in the passenger seat with a confused expression. He just felt that American traffic cops' intelligence needed improvement.

"Stop playing tricks!"

The traffic cop directly snorted coldly.

"You must have seen me and secretly moved over. I've seen plenty of people like you!" The traffic cop touched his gun with one hand, this gesture was a warning to Ian.

"I don't believe it. People like me are one-of-a-kind on the entire planet. How could you possibly encounter a second one?" Ian argued while patting the Hellcat's dashboard.

The Hellcat understood immediately.

It immediately performed reverse parking followed by parallel parking for the traffic cop, finally bouncing up and down like dancing to show off its new powerful performance.

"!!??"

The traffic cop was dumbfounded.

This really touched his professional blind spot. He didn't know whether to issue the ticket in his hand or not. The handcuffs he had already taken out seemed bound by professional ethics as he put them back.

"Oh, the intersection ahead has a green light."

Ian looked forward.

The next moment, the Hellcat "whooshed" and shot away, leaving only the traffic cop questioning life on the spot, wondering if this was some large tech company conducting autonomous driving tests.

"Are taxi drivers going to lose their jobs?"

The traffic cop rubbed his eyes. He noticed the license plate on the Hellcat's rear was constantly changing, Hellcats were also cats, so naturally they should have Schrödinger-like license plates.

"Am I seeing things?"

The traffic cop had originally taken out his radio, wanting to ask his colleagues, but at this moment, he felt guilty and hesitated repeatedly before putting down his communication device.

"Maybe I'm still in bed? But why would I dream that I'm still at work? This isn't right... Maybe, just maybe, I'm actually just a brain in a vat."

The traffic cop became an abstract philosopher.

He questioned life like this.

Besides not daring to believe what he saw.

It was also related to the characteristics of free America. When traffic cops searched and found some illegal leaves, in most cases these leaves would eventually disappear without a trace.

As for where they flew to, that was an unmentionable question.

Anyway, God definitely knew.

...

Bidding farewell to the traffic cop.

The Hellcat's engine made pleasant roars.

Blue flames from the exhaust pipe left scorch marks on the asphalt road.

A sunny day, naturally called for doing some sufficiently sunny things.

"I want to go to places with lots of military-controlled chemical transactions, preferably where they have weak legal awareness, haven't paid taxes, and even the tax bureau doesn't protect them." Thinking about leveling up during vacation, Ian initially tasted the beauty brought by [Perfect Divinity], and directly gave his navigation instructions.

Smart people believed their smart little car would definitely understand.

Facts proved this was indeed the case.

"You hate the sin~"

"You hate the temptress in the bottle~"

...

Mature little cars would change songs by themselves.

It revved the gas and rushed toward abandoned suburban factories. When the tires ran over the "No Entry" sign, Ian noticed that the odometer on the dashboard was actually running backward.

This car had a heart yearning to return to youth.

"Title Douji?"

Ian was quite surprised.

He couldn't spare time to judge what gender his twelfth-hand car was, because the Hellcat, which seemed capable of tracking illegal criminal information, had already brought him into a crime scene.

Inside the abandoned factory, a bald man in military uniform was leading his henchmen in a transaction with several brown bear country strongmen.

This was a very classic scene.

"This is the goods."

The military uniform bald man's silver briefcase was neatly filled with ten blue potions.

The labels clearly read [Simulated Superman Serum (No Kryptonian Genes)]. Obviously, there was no Superman inside, but there might really be some serum.

Advertising law received unprecedented respect here.

Of course, this was still illegal business.

And illegal business meant no legal protection.

Which also meant Ian could choose his own transaction method. For this, Ian didn't even need to use inequalities. After a brief assessment, he had already solved this problem in seconds.

"Five hundred thousand, no negotiation." The military man wiped sweat, looking around vigilantly, "Although the success rate is only 1%, it's still more reliable than your [God Project]."

His words made the brown bear country strongmen frown.

"Our project is not for you Americans to criticize!"

The brown bear country strongman's eyes were full of anger, while the military bald man who desperately wanted to complete the transaction shrugged helplessly.

"Fine, I don't care about those things either."

Saying this, the military bald man was about to have his subordinates verify the goods.

And just at this moment.

"Vroom vroom vroom~"

The Hellcat crashing through the iron gate interrupted the transaction. In the dust cloud, Ian wearing flesh-colored stockings got out of the car. He couldn't find a leather jacket so he had to pretend he had one.

"I smell the scent of sin!"

In a low voice, Ian had just taken out his lighter to cross-world top up as Ghost Rider.

"Da da da da~"

But the ruthless, taciturn villains weren't going to give him this chance. The brown bear country people drew their guns without a word and started shooting. A storm of bullets directly covered Ian's entire body.

[You attempt to learn bullet catching. [Student] profession experience +1]

[You attempt to learn bullet catching. [Student] profession experience +1]

[You attempt to learn bullet catching. [Student] profession experience +1]

...

Ian only smiled contemptuously at this.

His waving hands created dazzling movements in the air, and his student profession experience was increasing wildly. When the military man's team also started shooting, Ian's hands had almost created afterimages.

[You attempt to learn bullet catching. [Student] profession experience +1]

[You attempt to learn bullet catching. [Student] profession experience +1]

...

A very successful leveling session.

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

"Hot weapons, nothing special."

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

The air was very quiet.

Several illegal villains were stunned speechless. The military bald man's group and the brown bear country strongmen were all badly frightened, everyone trembling with pale faces.

The wind blew gently.

The sounds of swallowing saliva rang out continuously.

"Is he human or ghost?"

The brown bear country strongman looked terrified.

"I... I don't know..." The military bald man's voice also trembled. He tried to retreat behind several brown bear country strongmen, but they pushed him forward.

No choice, the military bald man could only put down his weapon with an empty magazine.

"You... why aren't you dead yet?"

The military bald man spoke to Ian tremblingly.

He was also well-traveled and had even witnessed Superman's power, but even when witnessing Superman's steel body, the waves in his heart weren't as intense as now.

"Heroes don't die from bare hands, so of course I won't die." Ian followed these people's gaze and looked down at his body, then quickly turned around and adopted a strategy of facing away from everyone.

"You caught all your bullets. I can't die at all." Ian said while secretly pulling out bullet heads frantically. About seven or eight hundred bullets were stuck in his muscles.

Some blood did flow out.

But the bullets only penetrated the skin layer.

[Berserker experience +1]

Only getting this little reward proved the injury was too light.

Facts still proved that Ian was still a tiny bit away from truly being invulnerable to weapons. Low-level iron body could only give Ian's body the invulnerability of the cold weapon era.

Physical attributes forty times that of ordinary people were far from invincible.

It wasn't enough to completely ignore large-caliber rifles and submachine gun fire as many people thought. The technological crystallization created by humans still needed a little bit of respect.

"Actually, I'm only a tiny bit short. My capillaries aren't strong enough yet." Ian hadn't felt any pain just now, so he believed he still had a promising future.

"That just looked scary. Try again, I guarantee I'll perform even better this time." Ian took out unused sanitary pads to wipe the blood off his face.

He attempted to repeat the monster farming.

However, not all bad guys were idiots.

"Run!"

The military bald man reacted exceptionally quickly.

He had already realized.

This definitely wasn't just encountering a superhuman. Everyone reacted and immediately scattered like birds and beasts. The brown bear country strongmen even threw away their weapons to reduce weight.

Everything was futile. They were indeed clever, but Ian was cleverer. Relying purely on physical attributes to forcibly activate super speed, he knocked them all down with one punch each.

The military bald man who ran at the front even got Ian's vicious tiger pounce.

He immediately fell into a dog-eating-shit shape.

Ian dragged him back to the transaction site by his leg.

"Done, mission complete. This performance counts toward my family's record." Ian didn't like killing witnesses, because without looking up, he knew there were two suns in Metropolis' sky.

After some deliberation, Ian also decided to add some weight to his academic career.

He had always hoped since childhood that his grandfather could work harder and get promoted crazily before his college graduation, so he would be qualified to write the masterpiece "My Five-Star General Grandfather."

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

"I'm a superhero who doesn't want to reveal his name. I like giving people good karma. Look, your good karma has arrived. I accidentally caught a group of people stealing and selling military supplies plus illegal immigrants."

"Who am I? How do I know your private phone number? That's not important. I already said I don't want to reveal my name. Yes, I'm drinking something. I'm afraid if I don't drink now, I won't have anything to drink later."

Ian was already using his extremely skilled voice-changing techniques.

[Savage Tyrant experience +3]

[Savage Tyrant experience +2]

...

[Savage Tyrant lv3 (1/40)]

He chugged enhancement potions frantically.

Finally leveled up again.

[Strength: 22.1→23]

[Constitution: 41.5→44]

[Intelligence: 3.2→3.3]

[Spirit: 7.7→7.9]

His attributes had improved.

Perhaps one more time, Ian could really catch more bullets. He didn't use the new skill points but planned to save up two to upgrade his [Iron Body].

"Evolving to steel body will definitely block bullets."

Ian looked forward to it.

He had gained another wave of strength enhancement.

This was a good thing, according to the law of energy conservation.

Bad things would occasionally show what it meant to follow like a shadow.

On the other end of the phone.

His grandfather's doubts came through.

Ian immediately became extremely alert.

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

"Trust me, I'm really a superhero, just with unspeakable difficulties that can't be made public. Ah? What are you saying? Who's Ian? How does my tone resemble Ian's?"

"Fine, fine, since you're slandering people like this, I confess, I'm Batman! Batman! Check the source of this phone and you'll know!"

"No! What do you mean you're even more certain now? Huh? Mom told you everything? What did she say? I have a cross-dressing fetish? If she loves tattling so much, why doesn't she become a report..."

"Bah bah bah! Mom definitely wasn't liked by classmates when she was in school!" Ian, who clearly felt he had improved significantly, once again fell into another round of exasperation.

"Fine, don't come! I'm going to tell Dad! You're secretly researching Superman serum! So bad!" He angrily hung up the phone, and his upset mood prompted him to give each villain another kick.

This scene, even a passing stray orange cat was stunned.

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

It frantically puffed up at Ian.

"Get lost, you low-level henchman have no right to challenge me!" Ian was really angry enough to curse even passing cats. This was perhaps true breaking point.

"Meow~"

The stray cat still puffed up at Ian.

Its eyes flashed red for a moment.

Before anything could happen, Ian had already grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and stuffed it directly into his battered backpack, and Ian also blocked the demon head's mouth.

This was to prevent the demon from eating the cat.

"Good quality. Put it in a gift box, and you'll be my apology gift when I get home." Ian's calculation was very loud as he pressed down hard on the orange cat still struggling frantically in the backpack.

"Really strong." Ian sensed something was wrong.

But he still had business to do, taking out 300 dollars, wiping off fingerprints and stuffing it into the military bald man's pocket. He knew the real market price of enhancement potions like the back of his hand.

He had bought them at the gym entrance.

"Done, mission complete."

After paying, Ian jumped onto the Hellcat and drove away.

"We shall overcome evil"

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

The little car also played a new song for Ian.

The blue flames from the exhaust pipe formed a middle finger shape behind them.

People with personality, drive cars that are just as personalized.

"He even knew to make a phone call. Speaking of which, what he called was indeed an official number." Relativity again, when Ian was happy, someone would always feel complicated.

After Ian left.

In the sky above.

The second sun in Metropolis' clouds slowly descended. Seeing all the illegal personnel tied up in human centipede formation, his red cape seemed slightly disheveled in the wind.

"At least he has a heart that wants to be a hero. That's not wrong." The old father, not knowing how to evaluate Ian's behavior, could only build himself up psychologically like this. Hmm, the world might have many misunderstandings about this man. Who said he wouldn't use his super brain?

Wasn't he already using his super brain?

Perhaps, Superman shouldn't be a journalist, but should be a lawyer.

"This is really a mess..."

The old father was sighing..

"Hiss~"

There was a sound of sharp intake of breath.

It was the brown bear country strongman.

Their physical attributes were indeed strong enough.

"Bang~"

But before this person could fully wake up, Superman stepped forward and used a neck chop that only appeared in TV shows. Perhaps Ian couldn't be blamed for liking to knock people unconscious.

It ran in the family, naturally so.

Ian was just surpassing his master.

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