Ian is the kind of person with an intelligence level in the double digits. After realizing that the other party was someone he couldn't afford to offend, he immediately tried to forcefully build a closer relationship with him.
This point was mentioned in the "4S Store: Sales Guide Training". "You can't hit someone if you're related to them". As long as you have some connection with your relatives, you can always get things done very well.
"I've dreamed of having an aunt since I was a child! No! I've been dreaming about it since I was in the womb!" When Ian heard the woman say that Lucifer should call her "aunt," his eyes instantly lit up like two little suns. He and his benefactor Lucifer were quite close, and they were already Twitter friends, so they would definitely become sworn brothers in a couple of years.
His logic remained impeccable and brooked no argument. The woman's expression froze, her golden pupils narrowing slightly, as if she had seen some incomprehensible creature.
Her teeth were grinding together.
And Ian, who has no sense of boundaries, is pushing his luck.
"Auntie~ It's me, Ian. Can you grant my wish?" Ian leaned forward, mimicking Madison's affected tone, and spoke in her own cloyingly sweet voice.
"...
The woman's gaze grew increasingly strange. She narrowed her eyes slightly, her voice still elegant, but carrying a dangerous glint. "You seem to have recognized who I am?"
This is something that anyone with an intelligence level of less than two digits can discern. After all, Ian's sudden attentiveness was too abrupt, and his eyes showed only shock at her, without any confusion.
"Of course I know! You are the only being who can defeat God, Great Darkness, Aunt Amara— I must tell you, there must have been a mix-up at birth, I have to help my father find his long-lost sister!" It's hard to imagine that Ian's address at this moment was so smooth and without any awkwardness.
He had always been the most shameless member of the Kent Family, and his ability to speak so righteously even when things were going so far as to take advantage of her was truly beyond Amara's expectations.
"Do you know who I am? How dare you talk to me like that?"
She was the first to be incredulous.
"What's this? You should wait until I'm eighteen and see what I'm like then—okay, I won't say anything about how you'll do this or that just because I'm bold."
"That's too frivolous, not suitable for a fifteen-year-old like me. Let's just say the bigger the storm, the more expensive the fish. You've come to me for a reason, there must be one. It must be that my wish to have a powerful aunt is finally about to come true." Those who know Ian know that when his voice is filled with emotion, he will never tell the truth.
"What kind of child would make such a wish to Santa Claus at Christmas?" Amara certainly didn't believe Ian's words. She stared speechlessly at the boy in front of her, who seemed to have nothing but cowardice.
"No, it wasn't a Christmas wish, it was Halloween. I wished for a black aunt on Halloween, which makes perfect sense." Ian stated that he never chooses holidays when making wishes.
"??????"
Amara's expression completely crumbled.
Amara's golden pupils contracted slightly, and the temperature in the Hell guest room suddenly dropped. The mournful cries of the souls on the walls rose in unison, and even the bed woven from Demons arms quietly shrank back into its blankets.
certainly.
Amara's emotions were similar to those of these Demons.
She subconsciously took a few steps back, her dark dress turning a dark red as if affected by her emotions, still surging slightly like molten lava representing warmth.
"Don't come any closer!" Amara looked at Ian's restless appearance, clearly having never seen such a bold person before. She was afraid that Ian would rush over and cling to her leg for the rest of his life.
"It's not just your love of being a writer, but your shamelessness is as thick as God's. I think the one who switched the babies is Clark Joseph Kent." Amara took a deep breath, trying to maintain her elegance. She attempted to use sarcasm to discourage Ian, thus retaining her sharp and venomous nature.
"If that's the case," Ian blinked, his face brimming with the logic befitting a logical monster, "Then I should call you aunt, shouldn't I?"
His expression was so sincere, as if he were simply stating a fact rather than forcing a family reunion, and his eyes held only a longing for the reunion, devoid of any ulterior motives.
Amara had never discovered that she could be so silent. She had lived for countless centuries, witnessed the birth of the universe, the fall of gods, and even tore apart several overconfident supreme beings with her own hands—but she had never encountered a creature like Ian.
Um.
It should still be a biological organism, right?
Amara's gaze slowly fell on Ian's hand holding the pen. The pen twirled gently between the boy's fingers, seemingly casually, yet it faintly revealed a power fluctuation that did not belong to ordinary people. That power was still very immature, like a newly awakened flame, flickering uncertainly, yet carrying a certain familiar feeling that made her heart tremble.
That's why.
So she wasn't really sure if Ian was wrong. Everything was so similar; God loves creation, so He's very determined to be a third-rate writer.
It's hard to say that the glory surrounding Ian wasn't due to someone's affection for him after sensing his superiority.
"Do you think you can claim kinship just because you can't verify someone's origins?" Amara continued, trying to make Ian blush with shame and embarrassment with her sharp words.
Her golden eyes flashed with a dangerous light.
Unfortunately, these impurities might not exist in the "underlying code" that makes up Ian. Instead of being anxious or annoyed, Ian thoughtfully stroked his chin.
"You can't even confirm my background?" He gleaned some key information from the other person's words, and after a moment of thoughtful consideration, he immediately seized the opportunity.
"So, even if I were actually your child, you wouldn't know? Oh, I see. My mother certainly wouldn't mind having another person love me, so I still have a chance to call you—"
Ian's eyes lit up, as if he had discovered a new continent. Seeing that this guy's thoughts were about to veer in a strange direction, Amara, looking alarmed, quickly raised her hand.
"Stop! Stop! Shut your wicked mouth!"
The air in Hell became completely still, as if all sound had been sealed off by this the Great Darkness entity, mainly because Amara was terrified of hearing that terrifying name from Ian's mouth.
It seems even her aunt can't satisfy the other person anymore; they're just too eager to improve. Amara really wants to teach them a lesson, but even the proud Amara knows that when she needs something from someone, she can't easily reward them with some kind of torture package. Besides, judging from the cosmic information she's read...
Torture might actually be a reward for the boy. As for killing him, Amara wouldn't consider it; she knew more secrets than most high-ranking beings.
The rules grant this boy the right to not die, which involves the influence of God's hand, and is definitely not just due to favor or affection.
"Listen, little one, don't try to claim kinship with me. You have no blood relatives in our world. But I can tell you where you really come from."
Amara took a deep breath and suddenly understood why Lucifer had to have his men deliver the keys; he was clearly still afraid after experiencing the emotional entanglement Lucifer had shown.
no way.
She could only get straight to the point.
However.
"I don't need to know where I come from—that way my connections can have Infinity possibilities! Yesterday I might have been Lucifer's cousin, today I could be your nephew, and tomorrow I might be God's long-lost son—could you ask God to tell the Angels God I am his most trusted child?"
Ian sat cross-legged on the Dragon Bone Desk, swinging his shoes which were still creaking loudly. Upon hearing this, the lava patterns on Amara's long dress paused for a moment.
"Besides, I'm very happy now. I don't dwell on my past; I only care about our family's future—" Ian's sudden seriousness made Amara a little unaccustomed.
Fortunately, the understanding Ian didn't continue to make her uncomfortable. "Don't you really want to consider becoming sworn brothers with my father? He has great potential, a true emperor's aura."
He tried one last time, but one of the Demon Head on the wall, which was being used as a chandelier, burst out with a "poof" of Hellfire. After being glared at by him, it immediately shrank into a ball.
"Does your father know that you're randomly helping him find relatives outside?" Amara covered her forehead, trying her best not to impulsively attempt to Destruction everything.
"He'll know I'm doing this for his own good. Have you heard of an ancient Eastern saying—I mean, a saying?" Ian looked at Amara with wise eyes.
"If you don't work hard when you're young, you'll regret it when you're old." This means that if children don't work hard, their fathers at home will suffer greatly. After all, I'm a very filial person.
Ian's earnest words made Amara want to slap him. The dark entity stared at this unyielding creature.
In the end, all that could be done was sigh helplessly.
"You clever Imp, you figured out I have a request of you, that's why you dare to be so presumptuous, isn't it?" Ian remained noncommittal and offered no direct response to this question.
Amara gave Ian a long, hard look.
"Well then, you have the book, you have the writing skills, but you're missing a good pen. I can pluck one off the wall for you. It won't be as good as God's, but it'll certainly be fine." She was clearly trying to curry favor with Ian in exchange for some of Ian help.
Therefore, his tone was one of barely suppressing his anger.
Ian's ears suddenly perked up.
" God has a really good pen?!"
He always manages to perceive the real key points, the elements that others don't want him to notice.
"Don't even think about it. God values his pen more than his own world. He's just like you, an unknowingly third-rate writer." Amara could see through Ian's little scheme, of course.
"First of all, I'm not a third-rate writer, I'm a bestselling author. Secondly, how good is that pen? Can it write cursive? Does it write smoothly?"
"Does God usually wear his ear or keep him in his pocket?" Ian asked with a hint of enthusiasm, as if he were a thief assessing the difficulty of his crime.
"I already told you, that's God's treasure!" Amara raised her voice to emphasize, and the temperature in the room plummeted by thirty degrees. The lava-like patterns on her skirt began to churn violently.
"Oh, baby, that's wonderful! Baby is precious, I really want one." It's not that Ian was being unreasonable; after all, the other person wasn't willing to have any blood relation with his father.
Altering bloodlines is certainly no challenge for the Great Darkness.
"Damn it!" Amara was utterly speechless. Finally, she couldn't hold back any longer. She slammed her hand on the table and shouted, "Let me out! I'll take God's pen from you!"
This is also why Zu Lu revealed himself directly.
"I knew you wanted me to do something naughty for you."
Ian forced out the other party's true purpose: he felt that his wisdom was superior to that of God's sister, and to put it mildly, without elaborating, it was equivalent to being superior to anyone else.
He's quite modest.
"The important thing is to let me out!" Amara's red dress billowed without wind, her voice filled with gritted teeth, and as she spoke, all the eyeballs on the wall seemed to burst.
"But you're already out, aren't you?"
Ian remained unmoved, simply pointing to the other's complete form. Amara glanced at him sideways, then helplessly explained to the boy.
"This is just a projection of my will; in fact, my true self is still in the basement of your damn Kent Manor!" This is probably what it means when love runs deep.
Before you know it, Amara starts swearing again.
"Manor?"
Ian blinked.
The haunted manor Crowley was offering him? He was somewhat surprised, but he didn't dare to accept. Being bold was one thing, being reckless was another.
"You know, I'm a kid~" Ian suddenly sighed, playing the underage card, and said in a somewhat worried tone, "I'm afraid God will spank me..."
Even as Amara glared at him with annoyance.
He remained unmoved.
He just put on a terrible performance on his own.
"Damn it! You just tried to steal God's pen!"
Amara spoke through gritted teeth.
"I was just thinking about it secretly, I never intended to commit a crime. Besides, if I could steal something from God, it would be worth it, even if I got a spanking."
"Anyway, if it's broken, I can just tear it off and throw it away; a new one will grow back." Ian's logic remained impeccable, and his words caused Amara's expression to change repeatedly.
The projection of this the Great Darkness embodiment began to flicker. She suddenly leaned down, her icy breath brushing against Ian's ear. "Let me out, and I'll give you everything you want."
Perhaps time is running out.
Amara's tone carried a hint of urgency. However, Amara's clumsy seduction was not as skillful as that of the Demons who had practiced for two and a half years.
Why not look for Lucifer?
Ian remained silent.
"Because you... are different." Amara's figure began to fade. "Although your power is weak, your essence is closest to God."
Your power is the most suitable universal key.
A very apt metaphor.
It made Ian feel incredibly awesome.
He felt the other party's stern gaze, so he quickly resorted to the delaying tactic from the Seventy-Six Stratagems.
Can I think about it?
Ian felt that even a hundred years wouldn't be a long time for the darkness.
Silence spread through the room. The spirits on the walls held their breath.
"Can."
Amara's figure had faded into the mist, "But don't disappoint me."
Ian flashed his most obedient smile.
"Don't worry, in the very end, it definitely won't happen~" Ian used the art of language; no one specified what the exact time of "the end" would be. It was clear Amara hadn't been fooled many times before, as she hadn't even noticed this. She glanced at Ian's hand again.
Then he drifted away like the wind.
The blood moon, which had been obscured outside the window, reappeared. After Amara left, Ian tried to use his abilities again, but was interrupted once more by a knock on the door.
"Knock knock knock~"
It's Thomas Wayne.
Today, the King of Hell was dressed in a dark red suit, the jeweled lapel pin on his tie gleaming ominously. He leaned against the doorframe, his silver-grey eyes scanning the room.
His nostrils twitched slightly, as if he were sniffing out information in the air.
"I sensed that the Demons furniture here had perished, so I came to check it out." Clearly, Thomas Wayne had no idea that anything had happened here.
Ian turned around.
As expected, all the Demons furniture had withered away. Clearly, this was the work of the dark entity Amara, who did not want other beings to know about the conversation that had just taken place.
"I was just bored and messed around with these Demons." Ian's admission, thanks to his reputation, didn't arouse Thomas's suspicion. It only made Thomas imagine Ian's methods were.
He gave Ian a look that any man could understand, and seeing that Ian remained unmoved and seemed to be pretending to be serious, he immediately changed the subject to another important topic.
"I've found your Demons servant for you."
This is indeed good news.
"So fast?"
Ian was somewhat surprised.
Never underestimate the power of a King of Hell.
Thomas chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. Ian nodded, gave a thumbs-up, offering emotional value, and then inquired about where his Trash Can was.
Thomas's expression turned somewhat strange upon hearing this. He removed his lapel pin, toying with it in his hand, avoiding Ian's gaze. "Regarding that... the situation is a bit special."
"Your Demons servant has been captured by a King of Hell."
These words made Ian frown.
"Which Demon King has captured him and is demanding I go and ransom him?"
Ian is ready to make a big splash.
However.
"No, quite the opposite." Thomas finally looked up, his face displaying a complex expression Ian had never seen before. "Your servant... is... quite capable."
"Impressive?" Ian repeated, the image of that witty, rolling head flashing through his mind. "Are you sure we're talking about the same Demons?"
Thomas took a deep breath, as if organizing his thoughts.
"According to the intelligence I've received, your servant has somehow persuaded, or rather, your servant has already convinced, the King of Hell of King of Hell, and he's now packing his bags to come and join you."