What's wrong with Superman's son wanting to be Superman?

Page 144

"okay."

Ian readily agreed and took out his phone to call for help. However, when he pressed the dial button to call his dad, the phone turned into a pink worm next to his ear.

The worm writhed shyly.

"Pooh!"

Without hesitation, Ian bit off half of the worm's body, chewed it a couple of times, and found that it tasted no different from a cell phone, as if the thing had turned back into plastic and metal after entering his mouth.

“Logically speaking, my dad should have noticed something was wrong by now.” Ian spat out the electronic component from his mouth and leaned over the completely shattered window to look outside.

Night had not yet fallen, but the sky seemed to have fallen into some kind of eerie twilight state—not the transition between day and night, but the blur between reality and dreams.

The sky and the earth seemed to be completely connected at this moment.

Things that were once clearly distinct and had distinct boundaries now seem to be being manipulated and wildly merged together by an invisible giant hand.

Everyone seemed to be in a dream.

The unconscious people were suspended in mid-air, gently enveloped by translucent bubbles. The real estate lady I'd seen before, the bubbles around her even touched those around her.

"You didn't even invite my second brother to the silver party?" Ian felt sorry for Jordan. His golden eyes looked at the bubbles, the fleeting images seeming to be the beautiful dream that everyone was falling into.

Memories I can't bear to part with.

Looking towards the future.

And there are also hidden desires in one's heart.

The bubbles present a beautiful scene that makes you not want to wake up.

"Are my dad and the others in the same state now?" Ian turned to look at Miss Death behind him, who was sipping a cup of coffee that she had conjured up from somewhere.

"We can't underestimate Superman's magic resistance, but we also shouldn't overestimate it—he's ultimately different from us." Miss Death gave a very clear and concise response in a low voice.

"us?"

Ian astutely grasped the key words.

And you still say it's not a crush?

This is blatantly envisioning the future!

Of course, Ian knew he couldn't go this time. Mother-in-law/daughter-in-law conflicts, father-in-law/daughter-in-law conflicts—they weren't even together yet, and Miss Death's tone when she mentioned Clark was far too sharp.

"Ok?"

Miss Death, who was drinking coffee, felt Ian's strange gaze. She raised her hand to flick his forehead, but stopped halfway, as if she was worried that Ian would get a thrill from it.

Rat-proof device.

Perhaps it has a slightly more concrete form at this moment.

“A newborn little one, being a pillar isn’t easy… This is your responsibility.” Miss Death sighed softly; she could certainly sense the changes constantly occurring in Ian.

only.

Miss Death was neither confused nor surprised.

She clearly had her own perspective on Ian. New concepts were emerging, and Miss Death sincerely hoped they wouldn't be entities representing the "abstract."

The thought had just begun to cross the woman's mind.

Have you ever heard of non-stick pans?

Ian then cautiously asked the question.

"?????"

Miss Death's face was slightly stiff, and her lips twitched.

"Judging from your expression, you probably haven't heard of me. But you're really lucky. Today you finally get to see me in person—I am the legendary non-stick pan."

Ian downed his cola in one gulp, ignoring how many tentacles were writhing in the drink. He threw the cup away and prepared to go home and run away with his family.

No joke.

What level am I?

A crisis caused by the Sandman is being handled by a fourteen-year-old boy? This isn't a children's cartoon; there's no benefit to it. Ian just wants to take his family to Los Angeles for a while.

There are tall people there who can help.

"There's also Plan B. Dad seems to have a spaceship. I wonder if it'll still work," Ian muttered to himself, before climbing out of the window without hesitation.

He ultimately did not inherit Clark's saintly heart.

"No, you?"

Miss Death couldn't sit still any longer.

She threw away the coffee cup in her hand.

"Have you never seen anyone as clear-headed as me in all your life?" Yi jumped out of the window, rolled on the ground, and found that Miss Death was still standing beside her.

"You took my favors, remember?" Miss Death said in a low voice, her arms crossed. "If I remember correctly, you said you could do anything."

"You also said you enjoyed working for me."

really.

Women are just so fond of bringing up old grievances.

Goddesses are the same.

“But it’s after get off work hours now.” Ian blinked, realizing he was being entangled with the goddess of filth, so he sighed and chose to face reality.

"So you've finally revealed your true intentions, haven't you?"

Miss Death's sigh was even louder.

"That's how all working people are."

Ian responded softly.

However, his tone was very self-righteous.

"Do you think you'll get nothing out of it for saving Morpheus's life?" Miss Death had completely seen through Ian's scheme; at least, she believed that Ian was playing hard to get.

after all.

Those who aren't smart enough simply can't understand how wise it is to run away.

"Hmm, what you said does make sense."

Upon hearing this, Ian was taken aback at first, then immediately put down the luggage he had been holding above his head—his beloved Hellcat, which had now turned into a cat-faced car due to the influence of the dream.

Its cat face looks just like Tom and Jerry's cat, and it's meowing. A pink tongue is sticking out from under the hood, and the equally pink exhaust pipe is even bubbling.

Even if it's a devil's car.

Clearly, they were not immune to the influence of the dream's power either.

"Morpheus is very grateful."

Miss Death gave a serious reminder.

She did indeed grasp a part of Ian's psychology.

"Is that so!"

Ian suddenly realized.

"So, I could even use this as leverage to make him acknowledge me as his father?" Ian knew that favors could always be repaid, but kinship could very likely keep him entangled with the big shot for life.

I can't raise someone else's son.

But having a really awesome son is a great option.

"???????????????????" An unprecedented number of question marks appeared on Miss Death's face. She felt that Ian was even taking advantage of her and that he had solid evidence.

"You can call me your godfather, I'm not picky at all, I've never been a picky eater since I was little." Ian also had a high EQ; he realized his oversight, so he immediately changed his tune. This time, at least Miss Death's pretty face looked much better than before.

Faced with Ian's unreasonable demands.

Miss Death rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“If you can convince Morpheus, that’s your skill.” She gave a vague response, but it still made Ian’s eyes light up.

“It’s a deal. My workaholic spirit is burning! Quick, let me get a job! What should I do?” Ian was eager to try, his eyes fixed on the chaotic scene in the distance.

The world seemed to have been turned upside down by a giant hand.

Houses are no longer firmly standing on the ground.

They could even hang upside down in the air. In mid-air, everywhere were people affected and unconscious. They were enveloped in one crystal-clear bubble after another.

Sleep peacefully.

Some people lay quietly, their faces serene, as if having a beautiful dream. Others held their heads in their hands, their brows furrowed, as if they had encountered something terrifying in their dreams.

Others had their bodies twisted into bizarre shapes, as if forcibly contorted by the power of dreams. Their bodies swayed gently in the bubbles, rising and falling rhythmically with the fluctuations of dream power.

This group is increasing.

"You have to save Morpheus and find out what happened to him." The top NPC, Miss Death, began issuing the quest, raising her slender, pale hand and pointing into the distance.

"But first, you have to take care of that woman." Miss Death's voice suddenly turned cold, not directed at Ian, but rather an expression of anger at a mortal attempting to meddle with divine power.

“I promised my father that I wouldn’t kill anyone for now. I would only bring the bad guys to justice and put them in jail.” Ian pulled out his prison from the Hellcat and held it up in front of the Goddess of Death.

"Gulu~Gulu~Gulu~"

The demon minotaur was also affected by the dream and was fast asleep.

"Demons are weak, surrender and ascend, tremble, fear, I am—the Garbage King!" It was even talking in its sleep, saying that demons are just a little bit stronger than humans.

"It's true that you get the kind of pet you raise, just like the kind of person you are."

The Goddess of Death understood Ian's meaning. She reached out and gently touched him, and the demon bull suddenly woke up from its dream. In its panic, it didn't realize that it had gained some favor with Ian through its dream.

"Oh... Mom, what do I see?" Perhaps because he had been "enlightened" by Miss Death, the Demon Minotaur was finally able to see a figure that he couldn't see before.

It even doubted that it was dreaming.

“Very well, if my prison takes a few bites of that stuff, then it’s its problem.” Ian hung the bull’s head behind his rear end and warned it not to lick his buttocks.

"Breaking that woman's neck will stop the effects she's causing." Miss Death's eyes twitched slightly as she heard Ian's "discipline" of the Minotaur, and she offered this suggestion.