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

Page 70

"Quickly tell my father that I put up a strong mental resistance to your instigation, but I couldn't hold on. Also, you are not allowed to repeat my words directly again."

He also gave a warning.

"This won't work!"

The demon gritted its teeth and put up a very stubborn resistance.

however.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The muffled thud in his head was really painful, a kind of inexplicable, soul-touching pain. Even the Minotaur Demon admired himself for being able to withstand eighteen blows.

Unfortunately, it couldn't withstand the nineteenth blow.

It was true, the enemy was simply too strong; at this moment, it wholeheartedly agreed. Unable to withstand the onslaught, the minotaur demon had no choice but to submit.

"Superman! Your son...your son has a really strong will...but...ah? Hehehe? The devil doesn't laugh like that, oh my! I laugh! I laugh!"

"However, ha, hehehehe, my bewitching power is terrifying, terrifying, terrifying... I haven't forgotten my lines! I'm just still building up my emotions!"

"My spell is irresistible to all living beings! I am the most powerful demon in hell! Look! I speak fluently and with great force! I've heard it before! I know how to say it!"

……

The Minotaur was extremely indignant.

Ian cursed inwardly, quite certain that with such poor delivery of lines, this demon would never amount to anything in politics; at best, he'd be a guest actor in Hollywood. After the minotaur demon obediently finished his lines, the room fell into an eerily quiet silence once more.

Outside.

There was no response.

Ian was on high alert, his ears perked up.

next moment.

His intuition sent a chill down his spine.

"You know I can see and hear you instigating a crippled demon, right? And I can hear your arrhythmic heartbeat." The old father's voice suddenly came from behind.

Ian turned around abruptly.

I saw.

The elderly father was trying to squeeze into his room through the not-so-large window. And "not-so-large" was only relative to Superman's massive frame.

"Oh no! I forgot to lock the window!" Ian looked at the hammer in his hand with a slight panic. He had a tiny bit of a fatherly and sonly thought, but in the end, he still didn't have the guts to go up there. He stared at Clark, who had completely squeezed into the room, and quickly hid the hammer behind his back and held his breath, not daring to make a sound.

Even Ian is like this.

The demon's head turned deathly pale.

"You're right! It was this little brat who instigated me!" Its survival instinct was still very strong, and it frantically tried to shift the blame. As everyone knows, the flower language of the devil is that he is good at betrayal.

In this regard.

Clark straightened his wrinkled shirt and gave the devil a cold look.

"You know the person you're accusing is my son, right?" His words carried a seriousness that sent chills down the demon's spine. For the first time in his life, the demon was experiencing what it meant to be caught in the middle.

Ok.

It wasn't human to begin with.

Due to the demon's abilities, it could sense Superman's terrifying bio-force field and horrifying holy soul. The oppressive feeling caused crimson sweat to seep frantically from the demon's head.

"Zizzizi~"

The demon's sweat dripped onto the floor, corroding small black spots on the wooden floor. At that moment, it felt an even more overwhelming pressure that made its very soul tremble.

“You know I paid for this flooring, right?” Clark’s voice was at least eight octaves lower than usual, and Ian could even hear his father grinding his teeth.

The wear and tear on a floorboard.

This was a real blow to the frugal farm boy.

"It has nothing to do with me! This really has nothing to do with me!" As the saying goes, no one knows a father better than his son. Ian reacted extremely quickly, throwing the demon's head at Clark like a hot potato.

Clark gripped it tightly with one hand—the skull of the demon's head was deformed. However, for the demon, this was nothing compared to the pain of Ian's evil hammer.

Faced with a fate that could crush it, it still managed to come up with a few quick ideas.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm not a demon, but just a very useful trash can?" The demon's voice was shrill, and he didn't dare to look Clark in the eye.

“I’m valuable! I can work as a garbage collector and make enough money to compensate for your floor!” It has even started stealing Ian’s ideas.

"?????"

Clark looked at the creature in his hand that called itself a "trash can," then at his son's innocent face, his eyes twitched a few times, and then he took a deep breath.

She seemed to be trying to calm herself down.

"tomorrow,"

Clark finally spoke, his voice tinged with obvious restraint, "I'll find you a large, safe, and reliable cabinet to store all your... weird and wonderful toys."

He paused noticeably on the word "toy".

"what?"

Ian had expected to receive "fatherly love".

Surprisingly, it was genuine fatherly love, rather than Clark taking off his belt on the spot.

"Is this really okay?"

He was still somewhat dazed, so his tentative words sounded a little hesitant. To be honest, Ian had assumed Clark would be an extremely rigid person.

"As long as you don't stuff these weird things under my and your mother's beds, and you take the appropriate safety precautions, there won't be any problems." Clark looked extremely helpless.

However, he still nodded to Ian—as someone who had once been just as special a child, Clark probably understood better than anyone how to accept a child's specialness.

His parents.

They have set the best example for him in the past.

just now.

Of course, it was his turn.

Having broken free from the mystery of her womb, Lin Le looked up at this world filled with dragons, bodhisattvas, and immortals.

Chapter 77 Re-entering Marvel, Ian's Identity?

For Clark.

This is a legacy of his family values.

For Ian...

He still couldn't quite comprehend such an unexpected situation.

"Thank you, Dad!" Of course, he was still very grateful for his father's understanding, and his face lit up with a look of surprise. He took a step forward and gave Clark a firm hug.

He could feel his father's muscles tense up for a moment.

Then came the helpless relaxation.

A warm, family-like atmosphere permeated the air.

And at this time.

"Your physical changes are related to your impersonation of Batman, aren't they?" Clark suddenly asked, causing Ian's body to stiffen again.

Sure enough, even with a hug full of familial affection, he still couldn't escape this. Ian understood; his physical changes couldn't possibly hide from Superman's eyes.

Clark was released.

Ian took a few steps back.

“It’s a long story, so I’ll keep it short.” He nodded to Clark, who waited a few seconds but found that his son didn’t intend to continue.

"Why are not you talking?"

Clark's face was full of confusion.

however.

“I told you, to make a long story short… this is short.” Ian nodded to Clark again, reminding his father, who probably didn’t use the super brain as often as he did.

The air in the room froze again.

Clark's forehead veins throbbed slightly, but in the end he could only sigh helplessly, "Batman said he thinks highly of you and will give you one of his suits."

He didn't press the matter further.

Instead, he went to Ian's desk. Superman probably didn't realize that Ian knew Wayne was Batman, so he didn't betray his Justice League teammates in front of his youngest son.

“It’s okay, Dad. I don’t want to be Batman anymore. Batman just gets beaten up. I still want to be Superman like you. I remember you have a black suit, right?”

Ian felt that his high emotional intelligence was on full display at this moment. He knew that if his son didn't admire him, the father would definitely be disappointed, so he showed his love for the Superman suit.

This is genuine affection.

If he learns a few more of the "Savage Tyrant" skills, who can say that Ian Kent isn't Superman's son? Ian is delighted about this, while Clark is still unaware of the seriousness of the matter.

"Trying to curry favor with me now won't work." He saw through Ian's little scheme, but a smile still lingered on his lips, which vanished as he approached Ian's desk.

It didn't last long.

"This is……"

Clark placed the demon's head on Ian's desk, his gaze immediately drawn to the thermos on the desk. The contents of the thermos made his temples throb twice more.

"Ian."

Clark's voice suddenly became more serious than ever before.

"Did you kill someone?"

He pointed to Mr. White's translucent soul inside the thermos.

His eyes were incredibly sharp.

Upon seeing this, Ian frantically shook his head, "I didn't kill him! I even saved Mr. White! If it weren't for me, Mr. White would probably be taking a bath in hell right now!"