SUP Chapter 36: Cautious Boy! Seeking Superhero Help!

The gains from becoming a fractured mess were sweet. Ian, wincing in pain, felt inwardly satisfied. Lying on the ground, he activated his [Healing Frenzy] skill.

The skill was as reliable as ever. Instantly, a searing force pumped from his heart to his limbs. Fractured bones made faint “crack” sounds.

Ruptured blood vessels and bones reconnected like sprouting vines. Countless “healing factors” wove through his marrow, piecing fragments together. Muscle fibers writhed like living things, torn tendons stitched by an invisible hand.

Aside from growing hunger, Ian felt back at his peak. If not for the crowd at the hospital, he’d have climbed up to jump again.

A few more rounds could level up his [Berserker] class.

“I knew the DC Universe needs its own Deadpool!” Ian grew more fixated on securing a long-term blessing, wondering what price such happiness would cost.

“I’m back in action, heh.”

Ian sprang up with a carp flip, his newly healed legs powering him like a V8 engine toward the hospital gates amid onlookers’ gasps.

No choice.

He had to run.

Ian knew his limits. No joke—he was certain if the doctors caught him, he’d likely fail a psych evaluation.

“Blame the evil spirit contamination!”

Ian was starving.

He scanned his surroundings.

There was still time, even after pausing to slip a kid two bucks (wiped clean of fingerprints) for his chocolate, the doctors and nurses riding the elevator didn’t even catch his dust.

By the time they reached the ground floor.

Ian had vanished into the streets outside the hospital.

Lightning fast.

That was his speed.

“Where’s the… organ, no, the boy?” Doctors and nurses stared at the crushed greenery, ears filled with bystanders’ talk of a “medical miracle.”

“He twitched on the ground, then sprang up like a zombie and ran! Is this a sign of the apocalypse? He’s the mother zombie!” said a gamer.

“He fell from the sixth floor! I saw it! Don’t know who pushed him, but thank God! A miracle saved this poor boy!” a priestly figure preached.

“Doctor uncle! Is that guy a secret cyborg you made? He paid for my chocolate! I was so touched I couldn’t move!” said a kid clutching two bucks, suspecting counterfeit.

“?????”

Well.

The doctors and nurses heard it all. They might’ve grasped what a miracle was, but medicine? Where was the medicine? They exchanged bewildered looks.

Amid the mix of confusion and absurdity, they spotted the familiar boy running back.

“He’s alive!”

The doctors and nurses were stunned.

They stood frozen.

Watching Ian, miraculously alive—no, rigorously speaking, resurrected—return with a hammer, bypass them, and dash into the hospital building.

The boy seemed in a hurry, like he had a mission.

“Is he going to take revenge on whoever pushed him?”

Some speculated, wanting to follow, but the doctors and nurses stayed silent, fearing no one would believe Ian jumped himself.

Bang bang bang~

The sound of something being smashed echoed.

Before the dazed doctors and nurses could process, Ian, clothes tattered, ran out hugging a pile of surveillance hard drives, smashing them with the hammer.

Security guards chased him.

Biubiubiu~

Even without a limited-edition skin, Ian dodged like a slippery eel. The guards had guns and fired, but his speed didn’t falter.

“Superboy! He’s gotta be a metahuman!”

“God, what am I seeing?”

“Father, get your hand off my son’s butt!”

…

Amid the stunned crowd, Ian bolted out the hospital gates, leaving the gobsmacked medics staring, unable to process what happened.

“Destroying evidence! This kid is—rigorous! Too rigorous!” someone exclaimed, realizing Ian’s return was to erase his surveillance footage.

Indeed, Ian was eliminating his traces. Honestly, even if his uniqueness was exposed, being grabbed for a lab was unlikely.

His dad was Superman.

Unbanned, he’s a god among men. Banned? Let’s not talk about it… And his mom’s side had a general grandfather, practically the American flag.

Still, with the world’s scrutiny as a looming sword, caution was key. That’s why Ian returned with a hammer.

“That damn woman, fake Tessa, scammed me hard!” Ian knew who to blame, but he only dared think it.

Settle scores with her?

Even a Berserker shouldn’t throw away lives.

Ian knew his limits. He could only ensure the hospital wouldn’t come after him for property damages.

…

Time passed.

Afternoon.

In an apartment building, Kara Danvers, enjoying a rare day off, returned home with a paper bag of fried chicken and fries she’d been craving.

“Binge a new show, eat juicy fried chicken and fries—what a perfect vacation!” Kara was in a good mood, thanks to her break.

But her mood lasted only until she entered the apartment lobby.

As she stepped in, a boy with holes in his clothes and dry leaves in his hair rushed from the stairwell, lunging for her food bag.

“Don’t think I’m an easy target just because I’m a girl, robbing in broad daylight?” Kara dodged, glaring sternly at the boy.

Facing a food bandit, despite his speed, Kara was far faster, his moves like slow motion to her.

“I’m starving. If those hospital guards hadn’t drained my coins, I’d fend for myself,” the boy said, showing his torn pockets.

He reached for the fragrant fast food again.

“Hospital guards ganged up on you?” Kara dodged again. Initially, she thought he was a handsome delinquent, planning a light lesson for the good-looking kid.

“Cousin, just one bite, please,” the boy said, and Kara, who secretly boasted as the world’s second-strongest, froze like she’d been critically hit.

One-shot KO!

“Who’s your cousin!?”

Kara’s brain buzzed, dumbfounded.

In her shock, Ian seized the chance to snatch her food. Proof that a mere Kryptonian superbrain was no match for Ian’s quick thinking.

Of course.

Even clever Ian had a weakness.

“Pfft, pfft, pfft! Penguin Cola! Gotham sewage!” He feared drinking Gotham’s water would turn him into a Gotham ghost. Who knew if the Joker virus was real?

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