The sunlight in Heaven seemed to be filtered through a soft veil.
It gently sprinkled down in a tranquil garden.
The air is filled with the faint fragrance of flowers and the chirping of birds. There is no hustle and bustle of the world here, nor is there pollution like mountains of corpses and seas of blood; there is only tranquility and harmony.
"Holy shit!"
In Heaven.
Unable to utter ordinary profanities, Ian could only utter sacred profanities in shock. Beneath his feet lay grass that would never wither, and the scene thirty yards away truly astonished him.
Who could have predicted that?
Ian has just entered Heaven.
He saw his grandfather next to a white, carved wrought iron coffee table.
That is, Superman's adoptive father.
Of course, this wasn't what alarmed Ian; his emotions were quite turbulent, mainly because old Jonathan Kent was having afternoon tea with an elegant lady.
The woman was wearing a long dress that looked like it had stepped out of a 1940s fashion magazine, and her every move exuded elegance. It was clear that she was not from an ordinary family before she Heaven.
Martha Wayne!
Bruce Wayne's mother, Batman's mother. Perhaps no one in Gotham doesn't know her, and even the most dangerous Joker doesn't dare to mention her in front of Batman.
at this time.
Batman's mother appears to be having a pleasant conversation with Superman's father. Such a scene would leave anyone speechless; Ian's emotions, at least, are truly indescribable.
His own grandmother Martha, is still alive, and his grandfather has fallen in love with another Martha in Heaven? Is it that his grandfather was too devoted, or was he really trying too hard to advance his career by dating a rich woman?
The problem is they've all gone to Heaven.
There's no need to try anymore!
"Oh, my rich Uncle Bruce, is he really going to become my uncle...?" Ian rubbed his eyes, and just as he was lost in thought, old Jonathan suddenly turned around.
Those eyes, weathered by life's hardships, still shine brightly in Heaven.
"I already have a feeling you'll say something outrageous when you get back, kid. Come here, let me give you a spanking first." Old Jonathan didn't seem surprised by Ian's appearance.
He teased Ian with a "fierce" expression, his graying sideburns neatly combed behind his ears, and a smile on his rosy cheeks that Ian had only seen in the videos Clark had kept.
The souls in Heaven can choose their age and appearance in the eyes of others, and clearly, the image that Jonathan Kent has chosen now is that of a grandfather.
That was the last image that was etched into Clark's mind shortly before his death. People who live on farms always age faster, and time had left deep marks on old Jonathan very early on. Every wrinkle etched on his face recorded the sunshine and rain of the Kansas farm.
"Oh, Grandfather... spanking me is fine, but spanking Ms. Martha Wayne is not." Ian was mainly worried that his still-living grandmother Martha, would be heartbroken if she knew about this. Of course, that didn't stop him from instinctively pulling out his camera and snapping photos of the two of them more than a dozen times.
In response to this...
Ms. Martha Wayne chuckled and shook her head. "If you want my child to send you money, I'll write you a letter; that would be far more effective than spreading rumors about me and your grandfather."
The two seem to have an innocent relationship.
However, it could also be a disguise.
Ian approached the long table where the two were sitting with suspicion.
"Looks like I misunderstood. Well, I am a child at heart, so it's normal for me to judge adults with a child's mind." Ian looked at Martha Wayne, clutching the pearl necklace in his hand.
"I think this is yours, Mrs. Wayne." He already knew who had slipped the pearl necklace into his pocket—that Batman Bruce Wayne, who always liked to sneak around and cause trouble.
Gotham Wayne must have practiced his skills a lot. Ian still can't recall when the necklace was placed in his hand, which clearly means Bruce knew the necklace could guide him to Martha.
He then touched the other pocket.
Ian pursed his lips.
His own father, Clark, wasn't smart enough to leave him any mementos. Fortunately, not only was Martha Wayne unharmed, but his grandfather, Jonathan Kent Sr., was also spared from the contamination.
I looked around again.
It seems that the most polluted places in the entire Heaven are the Angels ' Holy City and the Gates of Heaven outside, where the souls living still receive God's protection.
Just as Ian was deep in thought...
"Kid, they didn't send you in here just so you could stand there dumbfounded." Old Jonathan ruffled Ian's slightly messy hair.
His rough hands exerted a very gentle pressure.
Ian looked up at his grandfather, whose face was full of amusement, and couldn't resist taking a few pictures with his camera. Perhaps his grandmother Martha would like these photos.
"Let me fix my hair." Jonathan surprisingly cooperated, running his fingers through his already neat silver hair and even adjusting the collar of his plaid shirt.
He seemed to know what Ian wanted to do.
When the photograph from Heaven was captured on camera, Ian noticed that old Jonathan looked like a handsome young man in the picture, perhaps the way he would have wanted his loved one to see him.
"So... you two really aren't on a date?" Ian asked cautiously, camera still held up, ready to capture any valuable footage.
"My dear, there's no such thing as 'dating' in Heaven. We were just very good friends, and your grandfather and I both happened to be interested in things on Earth."
Martha Wayne rolled her eyes gracefully.
Ian had never known that anyone could roll their eyes so perfectly.
"More or less." Old Jonathan took a sip of tea and pointed into the distance. "We live close by, sometimes we chat about family matters, sometimes we check on the children."
Following the direction old Jonathan was pointing, Ian saw a farmhouse and a small villa that wasn't exactly a mansion; the two areas seemed to be quite close to each other.
It was as if an unseen hand was planning the settlements for the inhabitants of Heaven.
"Okay, I believe you."
Ian didn't want to cause trouble. He felt that no matter what the truth was, he should be a simple child and not meddle. After all, being in Heaven meant he should understand that God had already arranged everything.
"Hiss~"
Thinking about this...
Ian thought the air in Heaven might be poisonous.
When will I reach such a philosophical level of thinking?
"I knew this kid's thinking was so unhealthy." Ms. Martha Wayne rolled her eyes again, pointing to the teapot and two teacups on the coffee table.
Ian leaned closer and discovered that the liquid in the teacup was not ordinary tea, but rather a mirror reflecting the world—superheroes busy saving the planet.
Gotham's streets are deserted, with only broken concrete and twisted steel bars remaining. The once bustling crime capital is now only filled with the howling of the wind amidst the ruins.
It sounded like some kind of indescribable lament.
Those once towering buildings are now just ruins, desolate and lifeless, as if even the wind itself is filled with fear, afraid to linger in this desolate place.
The fallen Angels seemed to take root in the earth; they no longer sang, but emitted a low-frequency moan that seemed to echo directly in the depths of the human brain.
It's mentally devastating.
Even more terrifying—their bodies and songs are corrupting the earth. Black slime seeps from the Angels' wounds, spreading across the ground like a living thing, devouring buildings, soil, metal, and even the air.
The steel bars were writhing like living flesh.
A monster formed from black liquid emerged, its form constantly changing, sometimes resembling a human face, sometimes a snake's body, and sometimes a mass composed of countless eyeballs.
It let out a piercing scream, and Superman Clark instantly rushed forward, smashing the monster's head with a single punch. But the next second, it reformed as if it hadn't been hurt at all.
"I need someone to take me to analyze these substances!" Faced with countless twisted and animated ruins and black liquid creatures around him, Batman successfully contained some of the black liquid substances.
The worst part is actually the shed feathers. Each shed feather takes root and sprouts upon landing, growing into a deformed life form that resembles both a plant and an animal.
They were trying to stuff Wonder Woman into their mouths—luckily, Wonder Woman was slippery enough that after the God-Slayer Sword proved ineffective, she swung her God-Beating Whip.
Thunder is surging.
It has some effect, but not a significant one.
After all, Ian only possessed a tiny fraction of Thor's power when he modified the Lasso of Truth. Of course, even so, it at least allowed Wonder Woman to mount some effective defense.
"Bang!"
Batman threw a bomb.
It drew all matter towards the center of the bomb.
Then.
He then discovered that the bomb he had thrown had come to life—combining with the surrounding matter that had been drawn to its center, it had transformed into a colossal object, giving the impression that the difficulty had been artificially increased.
"Damn it! Where's the water?! Give me some water!"
Aquaman is relatively weak on land.
He ran frantically around, seemingly oblivious to everything around him. The behemoth appeared quite interested in him and relentlessly pursued him. This New Gods almost became one of the behemoth's own.
" Bruce, I'll take you to your base!"
Superman flew over.
He reached out and grabbed Batman's skull. Batman froze, too afraid to move, and the two of them flew towards a certain place in this eagle-catching-chicken pose.
"Sizzle~"
A scene resembling a television screen displaying glitches appeared on the tea.
"It seems Bruce has taken precautions to prevent Heaven from spying on that place." Martha Wayne wasn't surprised at all; she knew how severe her son's paranoia was.
"Yes, I need to find the source of the pollution." At this moment, Ian also thought of the reason why he wanted to go to Heaven; he needed to solve the problem at its source: the notebook that was causing the pollution.
certainly.
While you're Heaven it, try the flowers, plants, birds, animals, bricks, and even the water from the so-called Holy Lake... A gourmet must always remember that they are a gourmet, no matter where they go.
"It has no taste."
Ian plucked some flowers and popped them into his mouth. He was slightly disappointed because he didn't receive any experience points from the system. This scene made old Jonathan look a little embarrassed in front of Martha Wayne.
Fortunately, Martha Wayne simply chuckled and didn't judge Ian's pica behavior further.
"Your wealthy Uncle Bruce might be willing to spend a fortune to buy some photos of his mother." Martha Wayne straightened her clothes before Ian prepared to leave.
"Excellent, excellent, Mrs. Wayne, your suggestion is wonderful." Ian's eyes lit up upon hearing this, and he couldn't help but sigh that Martha Wayne truly lived up to her reputation as a woman who married a capitalist.
As he snapped a series of photos of Martha with his camera pointed at her, he was already mentally calculating his sales strategy: a profile view is one price, a full-face view is another, and a smile is yet another.
What is this called?
This is called "learning by analogy".
Lord Ian has always had a natural talent for being a capitalist!
"Mrs. Wayne, I have a business proposal that's guaranteed to make a fortune." Ian had finally managed to find someone with a business mind, so of course he wanted to seize this hard-won opportunity.
Martha Wayne gracefully set down her teacup.
She raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Oh?"
She didn't see old Jonathan put on his headphones.
The next moment.
Mrs. Wayne immediately sensed Ian's Supreme Wisdom. Ian's eyes lit up, his expression showed anticipation for the future, and his tone was filled with excitement.
"Perhaps we should partner up to sell Indulgence. I'll handle the smuggling, and you can take care of the accommodations—I'm off to rescue the Angels soon, so selling Indulgence on Earth isn't unreasonable!"
Ian clasped his hands together.
It's like announcing a great invention.
"..."
Mrs. Wayne was stunned for a long time.
She turned to look at old Jonathan, who was sipping his tea with his head down.
Why is this child in Heaven?
Mrs. Wayne asked bluntly, her surprise evident, but old Jonathan, wearing his Heaven -made headphones, didn't hear a word of this simple question.
He was still drinking his tea with his head down.
Remaining silent.
Completely oblivious to the subtle shift in the atmosphere, Ian continued his enthusiastic pitch, "We don't sell to criminals or murderers; we specifically target wealthy capitalists whose crimes are deserving of leniency."
"Doesn't this prove that I'm kind enough and deserve to go to Heaven as if I'm going home?" He genuinely felt that he was a good person.
This perfectly meets my own criteria for going to Heaven.
"I don't think this is a good idea." Mrs. Wayne sighed deeply, rubbing her forehead. " Ian, if you really want to sell indulgences... you'll have to go to Bruce's father."
She ultimately showed Ian a way out.
"Where is my Wayne? Is he under the table?" Ian crouched down and lifted the tablecloth, but couldn't find Batman's father. He looked up at Mrs. Wayne, puzzled.
"..."
Martha Wayne opened her mouth, but ultimately couldn't say anything. Her eyes dimmed, and after a moment of silence, she simply shook her head at Ian without saying a word.
Old Jonathan coughed and patted Ian on the shoulder.
"Don't ask anymore, child."
Whether he had music playing in his wired headphones or not, only he himself knew. Hearing this, Ian blinked, his exceptionally high emotional intelligence allowing him to understand Old Wayne's situation at that moment.
It seems he'll have to go to Hell to find old Wayne, but perhaps that's not such a bad thing. He's almost at the entrance to Hell, and the price of Indulgence Hell must be even higher.
Maybe even the Demons will make a bid.
While thinking about it.
Ian patted the Minotaur that was pretending to be dead behind him. It turns out that even Demons can go to Heaven; this world is still one where shortcuts outweigh difficulties.
"Perhaps you should go and save the world, child." Mrs. Wayne seemed to have been stirred by some emotion; she wasn't angry, but she still reminded Ian that it was time to leave.
"Yes, yes, Mrs. Wayne, Grandfather, I really have to go save the world. MVP will always be MVP." Ian picked up his teacup and drank it all in one gulp with great gusto.
Old Jonathan smiled with satisfaction.
"Keep it up, kid. We'll see you save the world again. You seem to be much better than your dad." He encouraged Ian in a gentle tone.
Upon hearing this...
Ian's golden eyes lit up again.
"Wait! Grandfather, say that again! I want to record it!" He quickly pulled out four or five cameras, ready to record simultaneously, in case one camera lost data due to quality issues.
"Of course, no problem."
Old Jonathan repeated it with a smile, Ian checked the video with satisfaction, making sure the picture was clear and the sound was loud. This was valuable material that could be used to spur on his father.
"Dad needs to work really hard and prove himself." Ian knew he needed to use his influence on his father more often to make him genuinely believe that he was Idealist Superman.
Martha Wayne watched this scene, sighed softly, and then said gently, " Ian, if you can... please pass on a message to Bruce for me."
Ian immediately raised his camera and pointed it at her.
"No problem! You tell me, I'll record! It's much better for you to say what you want to say yourself than for me to relay the message." This kind of small favor doesn't cost any money, so Ian is always happy to help.
Seeing this, Martha Wayne straightened her clothes.
" Bruce, you know we love you. So please, never give up hope." Martha Wayne's tone was extremely heavy and serious.
She seemed to be giving Bruce Wayne some advice about something she was very worried about.
"Could you please say a few more words to Uncle Bruce?" Ian asked Martha Wayne after Martha finished speaking, without stopping Wayne recording.
In response to this...
Martha Wayne did not refuse.
At Ian's request, she made another recording, repeating what Ian wanted him to tell Bruce Wayne, and Ian got a new video as he wished.
"Perfect!"
Ian was overjoyed. This place truly lived up to its name as Heaven. The moment he entered, he gained the means to rival Batman. Heaven really did fulfill everyone's desires and wishes.
"Goodbye, Mrs. Wayne, and my hardworking grandfather! Once I've raised Dad to be Idealist Superman, I'll have him come to see you!" Ian closed the dozen or so cameras with satisfaction.
He waved to the two of them, knowing he needed to hurry— Bruce might be able to find a way to solve the Kryptonite contamination, but ultimately he would still need to eliminate the source of the contamination.
Otherwise, it will sprout again with the spring breeze.
God knows when the source of pollution will spread from the restricted area. No one can fathom God's intentions; the best solution is to let the Evil God Lord devour the source of the evil Cthulhu pollution.
"We'll meet again, no need to rush." Old Jonathan smiled kindly. He watched Ian glance back before flying straight up and heading towards the now terrifying and eerie Holy City.
Under the watchful eyes of the two, Ian's figure gradually disappeared at the end of the garden. A Heaven breeze swept by, the petals swayed softly, and the tranquil courtyard returned to silence.
Will we meet again?
Martha Wayne lowered her head and took a sip of tea.
She felt the tea was a bit bitter.
This is a rare sight in Heaven.
The woman's fingertips unconsciously traced the rim of the teacup, her expression slightly dazed.
A complex emotion flashed in her eyes as she thought of Bruce, her husband, and her son, whom she hadn't been able to truly embrace since that rainy night.
Old Jonathan noticed her emotions and comforted her, "Not just us, I believe you and your husband will see each other again, and of course, your son too."
Martha Wayne sighed softly, a faint smile barely forming on her lips.
"Perhaps."
Her voice was soft, and her smile remained elegant.
"That kid's personality doesn't seem to resemble Clark's at all." This was clearly a change of topic, and old Jonathan didn't bring up Martha Wayne's concerns again.
" Clark and I aren't like each other either, but that doesn't affect our relationship. Family will always be family," old Jonathan laughed and responded.
His laughter was deep and warm, like the ever-shining sunlight on the Kansas plains. Martha Wayne nodded in deep agreement and chuckled softly in return.
"You adopted a Kryptonian, and then your Krypton child adopted an Archangel... All I want to know now is what kind of outrageous things your family will produce in the future." Martha Wayne raised an eyebrow, her tone wistful, noting that even a wealthy family like hers might be a bit less prestigious than the Kent family.
Ian is not Archangel.
Old Jonathan stared down at his teacup, where the image had reappeared— Clark was standing on the ruins of Metropolis, looking up at the sky as if searching for something.
Upon hearing this, Martha Wayne paused for a moment.
"Don't lie to me, he is dazzling and radiant, shining with a glory more brilliant than any Angels, but it seems he himself cannot see how he appears to us."
Her gaze was deep and penetrating.
The vision of the Soul of Heaven allows her to see many things that she could not see when she was a mortal.
"Perhaps that was just the glory of a hero?" Old Jonathan chuckled dryly, clearly hiding something, his guilty look suggesting he was uncomfortable lying.
Mrs. Wayne gave old Jonathan a deep look.
No further questions were asked.
A subtle silence fell between them, broken only by the rustling of the breeze through the flowers. Finally, their gazes returned to the reflection in their teacups.
The gardens of Heaven remain serene, while on Earth, the tales of heroes continue. Of course, Ian's story is no exception; he is drawing ever closer to the Holy City of Heaven. The radiance of Heaven should be pure and flawless, but as the distance diminishes, a thick, unsettling atmosphere begins to permeate the air.
That was the former capital of the Angels, but now it has become a breeding ground for Cthulhu corruption—a city that has been alienated, twisted, and devoured, like a rotten, abandoned land in the universe.
"How disgusting." Ian could even see that the clouds above the Holy City were no longer pure white, but had a sickly purplish-black hue, as if they had been contaminated by some indescribable force.
Unnatural tentacles even tumbled within the clouds, clearly a sign of Cthulhu corruption.
" God must be a slob, not even minding that his own backyard is diseased."
Ian couldn't help but complain in his mind.
He felt nauseous at the sight.
Just like his previous attempt to inhale the Cthulhu black mist, [error data] accompanied by physical nausea, the Evil God Lord is, after all, on a completely different path from Cthulhu.
"In the end, I still have to risk my life. This time, Evil God Lord has suffered a huge loss for Earth." He frowned, and was about to speed up when he suddenly heard an anxious shout from below.
Where is Mom?
The voice sounded strangely familiar. Ian looked down and saw two familiar figures darting around in the flower grove on the edge of the Holy City, as if searching for something like headless flies.
" Sam? Dean?" Ian blinked, making sure he wasn't mistaken—it really was his classmate Sam Winchester, and Sam's Dean never Diane when hooking up with women.
"Your mother isn't in Heaven, she's in your old house... No, you went to Heaven when you were fourteen?" Ian landed in front of the two astonished people.
Although these two are destined to fight against Heaven and Hell, they're only teenagers now. Ian suspects the two brothers are dead, otherwise this pace is truly outrageous.
Who goes there!
Dean was startled by Ian's sudden appearance and instinctively reached for his waist—of course, his weapon wasn't on him, so he just found nothing and awkwardly pretended to be calm.
Who are you?
Since Dean was unconscious when Ian first met Dean, and Dean had never seen Ian before, the young man only felt unfamiliar with Ian when he saw him.
" Angels? Guides?"
Dean tentatively probed, somewhat puzzled.
Before Ian could answer, Sam looked closely, rubbed his eyes, and then rubbed them frantically several times before finally realizing what was happening and Sam in surprise.
" Ian Kent?"
His expression was filled with disbelief.
Upon hearing this, Dean was taken aback at first, then his expression became quite interesting. "You mean that Ian Kent who took down the school bully, brought down several principals, and was so incredibly powerful?"
He began to scrutinize Ian intently.
Is this how you usually introduce me?
Ian raised an eyebrow and looked at Sam.
Sam took a few steps back, looking very nervous.
"I only mentioned it a few times! I didn't say anything bad about you!" He grabbed Dean's arm. "Let my brother go! He's so young, he shouldn't go to jail just because he offended you!"
This guy has always had a very deep prejudice against Ian.
Perhaps it was because of Ian's initial threat.
"Yes, yes, I absolutely didn't mean any disrespect!" Dean quickly nodded, swallowing hard, his voice tense. This was mainly because he was unemployed.
Still the Witcher.
They arrived at the courthouse.
Forget about Ian's outstanding record; just the fact that Ian's a little boy would be enough to prevent the jury from listening to his arguments, and the judge would probably have already reached a verdict in the first second.
Upon seeing the two exorcist boys, one big and one small, both trembling with fear, Ian genuinely felt the majesty of his Evil God god, though he outwardly feigned helplessness.
"My heart is already very open," Ian said. "I'm just curious why you're here." Ian truly hadn't expected to run into acquaintances from school in Heaven.
His gaze fell on the boxes that Dean and Sam were holding.
They are not very large in appearance.
It has a very rustic feel, about the size of a sneaker box, and is made entirely of some unknown material with a texture that is somewhere between metal and leather.
There were many Ian on it that Ian couldn't understand, but could translate with his Magic Book. They were clearly imbued with some kind of magic. I wondered if the two boxes had brought them to Heaven.
"No, you two seem to still be alive..." Ian's eyes were somewhat fixed, not because he had poor eyesight, but because he was trying to discern the aura emanating from the two people.
Seeing this scene.
Dean and Sam both felt a chill run down their spines.
"Here you go! Here you go!"
Dean assumed Ian was after the box in his hand.
He quickly handed the hot potato to Ian —regardless of what was inside, Dean felt he didn't want to get involved in any unnecessary trouble.
"What's this?"
Ian looked down at the box.
The box is dark gold in color, with some traces of rust, as if it has been eroded by a long period of time. It is inlaid with a circle of fine runes around the edges. These symbols do not belong to any known language system, but they faintly exude a sense of oppression that is beyond the scope of human cognition.
Whenever Ian tried to stare for too long.
His gaze would unconsciously drift away, as if his brain instinctively refused to understand the words, or perhaps he was influenced by the runes on them and wanted to subconsciously ignore them.
"I don't know. This is something some mysterious Angels entrusted to us for safekeeping. Can you tell me what you meant when you said our mother was in the house back home?"
Dean shook his head in response.
Incidentally, I also want to minimize the losses.
He remembered that Ian had mentioned him and Sam's mother before.
"You can have mine too."
Sam was quick-witted in school, and he was just as clever in this unfamiliar environment. Seeing his older brother hand over the box, he quickly handed over the box he was holding as well.
"That's our dad's precious treasure!"
Dean wanted to stop it.
However, Sam had his own reasons.
I just really wanted to know about my mother.
"We're begging him to tell us the answers, aren't we? We're in Heaven now, and to see him here like this, his background must be incredibly terrifying."
This statement clearly implies that Ian doesn't deserve to go to Heaven.
Sam has such low emotional intelligence.
He publicly criticized Ian.
Although he himself probably didn't realize it, it still made Ian feel uncomfortable. However, seeing the two boxes in his left and right hands, Ian chose to be magnanimous.
Sam's box was also very old-fashioned; it was an ancient wooden box eroded by time, its dark brown surface covered with cracks, as if it had been asleep for countless centuries.
The edge of the box lid is engraved with intricate runes, suggesting it might be a magical item or a valuable antique. Either way, it's worth Ian showing his generosity.
"Your mother, after being killed by Demons, remained in the old house, becoming some kind of special Earthbound Spirit," Ian explained.
"What?!"
The two brothers exclaimed in unison.
My brain is buzzing.
This was an answer they had absolutely not expected.
"Then do you know who killed our mother?" Dean pressed urgently. He didn't completely believe Ian's words, but he knew that the little boy who could appear in Heaven must be no ordinary person.
"It's the Yellow-Eyed Demon, Azazel. He's a powerful Demons from Hell, Prince of Hell. But don't be afraid, there are many Prince of Hell in Hell."
"My toy car loves to eat the Prince of Hell."
Ian gave a concise and clear answer.
"You actually knew!" Dean stared at Ian in shock, utterly astonished that Ian knew the Demons had yellow eyes. "How did you know so much?"
Neither he nor Sam asked about the car.
This left Ian slightly disappointed.
There was no longer any opportunity to show off.
"That's what Omniscient Brain is like." Ian tapped his temple. He even knew that the two brothers were vessels, vessels for the Archangel and the Lord of Hell.
I think what he said is true.
Sam looked at Dean with some excitement.
Dean, who was older, had constantly changing expressions.
My mind is making some kind of judgment.
And at that very moment...
Ian has already begun to examine the two ancient boxes. Yes, the two boxes are older than the other, and the way to open them is somewhat puzzling.
"What are you doing here? Were you brought here by Angels?" Ian asked, trying to change the subject and prevent the two boys from realizing the terrible fact that they couldn't even open a box.
"Aren't you supposed to Omniscient Brain? Then you should know why we're here, right?" Sam frowned, looking at Ian with a surprised expression.
Ian paused.
"My Omniscient Brain isn't always in use! It needs rest too!" Even when he was furious, Ian could always find a suitable excuse for himself.
That makes a lot of sense.
Sam and Dean exchanged a glance.
I was truly speechless, so I didn't dare to refute it.
So, what's the answer?
Ian sat cross-legged on the grass of Heaven, with two boxes in front of him. He picked up Sam's box first, examining it from all angles, his fingers feeling along the seams.
Trying to find the mechanism to open it.
He first carefully examined the box Sam had given him, his fingers gently tracing the edge of the box. The mysterious runes gleamed faintly in the sunlight.
It seemed as if it might come back to life at any moment.
"Um... it feels like you're interrogating us."
Dean crossed his arms, wanting to yell at someone, but afraid that the other person might really be Angels.
"A Black Angel suddenly attacked our house, knocked out my dad who was trying to ambush him with one punch, and then dragged Sam and me straight to this damn Heaven."
His displeasure was clearly evident.
Sam added, "The Angels also said that chaos was about to break out on Earth, but we can't let anything happen to us, and the things in the box can't be harmed either, even the box my brother gave you."
His gaze fell on the box, which had a metallic and leather-like texture. The edge of the lid was indeed wrapped with a band of worn, dark brown leather, which remained sturdy despite the passage of time.
It exudes a faint fragrance and a metallic chill.
"Looks like someone in Heaven realized something big was about to happen, which is why they chose to protect you two... handsome guys." Ian stopped himself in time.
It wasn't that he was unwilling to tell the two of them the truth, but rather that they certainly couldn't bear the truth right now. Dr. Hannibal Dr. Hannibal earned too much; he couldn't refer any more patients to him.
"Who knows? That guy's been acting strangely, and I don't know why he cares so much about us." Dean rolled his eyes. Luckily, the Angels who captured them was a big, black guy.
Otherwise, he might genuinely doubt whether the father he thought he had was actually his father.
Ian didn't respond.
"Click~"
Because he finally found the clasp on the box.
Sam opened the box.
Gently lifting the lid, a musty and chilly aura wafted out—inside lay a gleaming black revolver, or more precisely, a Colt revolver.
Its metal barrel gleamed with an eerie dark light, as if it had absorbed the resentment of countless souls. Several strands of dried blood were wrapped around the handle, like a curse frozen in time. A light touch could even feel a faint pulse, as if it were not just a weapon, but some kind of extremely terrifying living thing.
"Coo coo~"
Ian's breath caught in his throat for a moment.
He swallowed hard.
His pupils suddenly dilated slightly.
" God-Killing Gun, Colt!"
Ian is a discerning person; he knows that what lies in the box might be the artifact from that Supernatural, and some say that this gun can kill anything.
Whether it's true or not.
This gun once brought Angels and Demons to an end, and even threatened the balance of the entire universe. Now, it has reappeared, sleeping in this ancient box.
It awaits the next person who dares to grasp it.
"Where's the other one! Where's the other blind box!" Ian quickly hugged the metal and leather-textured box to his chest, fumbling around for a while, trying to find the opening mechanism.
However.
"This box has no opening; it's a single, seamless piece. We've tried, and it's impossible to open it," Dean cautiously warned, seeing Ian slamming the box on the ground.
"It's very hard, not even a hammer can break it, let alone a stone..." Dean hadn't finished speaking when he and Sam heard a very crisp sound.
Sam and Dean's expressions froze instantly.
All I saw was...
Under their incredulous gaze, the sturdy box was bitten open by the impatient boy, who not only that, but also swallowed all the remains.
[ Savage Tyrant Experience Points +11]
[ Entropy Annihilation Lord Experience Points +888]
Ian chewed with relish, and of course, he didn't forget to take out the contents of the tattered box. As he threw the last piece into his mouth, he also grasped the contents inside.
It was a short sword.
It caused Ian's pupils to dilate slightly and then constrict slightly again.
"Sending supplies before the great battle... This is Lucifer's sword, that Holy Sword." The moment Ian grasped the short sword, its blade suddenly burst into a blazing Holy Flame.
The flames were burning very brightly.
It was an intense, almost overwhelming force, as if it could burn down the entire Heaven.
"Damn it, I only like pretty girls, God forbids me from having a crush on someone!"
The bright white light illuminated the little boy's bewildered face.