A light drizzle is falling.
In the small, glowing mirrors in front of Lady Death.
The Metropolis of God of Gamblers, who believes that the bigger the storm, the more valuable the fish, is back in action. This time, the roles are reversed, and even Lucifer, who was previously a radical, thinks Ian is too radical.
"Are you crazy? Sending a child to that old man? Are you rewarding him?!" Lucifer was advising Ian to tone down his talents, but Ian always ignored such advice.
"As long as they have 88,888 babies in one pregnancy! As long as they're busy taking care of the children, I'll be safe, and those two won't be able to continue to tormenting me!"
"It's just that my older brother's body trembled a little, but the whole family is safe again. Any capitalist would take a gamble! And I am a qualified capitalist!"
"It's perfectly reasonable! Absolutely reasonable!" Ian had been enlightened by Lucifer. If Lucifer thought the Love Potion would work on the Creator Duo who had bound themselves to mortal bodies, then the pregnancy potion he obtained from Thanos would definitely work as well. Adding a pregnancy spell would be like double insurance.
Under the sofa, Ian and Lucifer, like two sardines crammed into a can, peeked furtively at God and the Goddess of Creation's candlelight dinner outside.
Seeing Ian's resolute expression, Lucifer was completely stunned.
"Eight, eight at most, don't go too far!" He tried to get Ian to back down, but Ian's will to survive was unusually strong at this moment.
He felt his plan was absolutely brilliant, a truly permanent solution to the crisis.
"That's called strategic defense. Your father used the child to bind the marriage, while I gained peace. In most cases, breastfeeding and estrus don't coexist under normal circumstances."
Ian thought this was the best way to dissuade the Goddess of Creation from openly pursuing him. He lowered his voice, his eyes peering through the gap in the sofa— God was using Jonathan's body to cut steak for the Goddess of Creation.
The movements were elegant to the point of being slightly affected.
"You call 88,000 children breastfeeding? That's a cosmic catastrophe!" Lucifer's eye twitched. He had finally met someone even crazier than himself.
The Lord of Hell could even see in Ian's suspicious gaze that he suspected Ian was worried about having too many younger siblings fighting over the inheritance—a direction a sane person would consider.
"Although I'm still missing a good pen, I have a brilliant plan." Ian ignored Lucifer's protests and pulled out < Ian's Grimoire > from his pocket.
"It can't affect my damn parents."
Lucifer stared as Ian opened the Magic Book that had fallen from the Source Wall. He noticed that Ian was blocking his view, and the more Ian did this, the more uneasy he felt.
Why do you look so confident?
Lucifer had no idea where Ian's inexplicable confidence came from. He was just about to pretend to Ian to see what Ian was writing when he noticed that Ian suddenly looked up at him.
"This guy found out? No, he shouldn't be able to read my mind." Lucifer saw Ian's eyes light up, and a feeling of guilt just began to rise within him.
Something he never expected in his life happened.
"Bang bang!"
In his God of God of Gamblers form, Ian was incredibly audacious, throwing two punches straight at Lucifer's nose—a super combo of two punches, as if he was afraid of not getting a nosebleed with just one punch.
Decisive and efficient, disregarding martial ethics.
Lucifer's bones emitted a sickening creaking sound.
"~~~"
Lucifer covered his nose, not daring to scream too loudly. Tears welled up in his eyes from the pain, and his devilish eyes instantly shone with a scarlet light.
This is redness from pain, slightly less severe than Jill's purplish discoloration.
" Ian Kent! Do you know who you're attacking?!" He stared at Ian in disbelief. From childhood to adulthood, even Michael had never dared to sneak up on him and beat him like this.
"I think you wouldn't want to see me become your stepfather Ian, would you?" Ian shut Lucifer up with a single sentence, his expression shifting as the pain in his nose intensified.
Fresh blood was slowly gushing out.
The tears flowed down his philtrum and dripped onto the worn carpet.
Ian paid no heed to Lucifer's anger; he immediately pulled out a paper cup and precisely caught the liquid below Lucifer's nose.
He caught a few drops of bright red blood from his nose.
Lucifer's eyes weren't as red as his nose.
"How... how could I be injured?!" Lucifer's anger was instantly replaced by shock. He stared blankly at his nosebleed, finding it hard to believe that his invincible body could be hurt. He, the fallen Angels Lucifer, the Lord of Hell, was bleeding from his nose because of a mortal's fist?!
This is illogical! This is unscientific! This is not the devil! Lucifer looked at Ian with suspicion and uncertainty. At this moment, he couldn't help but have an extremely absurd thought pop into his mind. Could this boy also be his destined other half? After all, there aren't many beings who can make him bleed with a fist.
The moment the idea popped into his head, Ian's [ God Family Sexual Harassment Radar ] went off like a madman. He hurriedly explained as he unscrewed the ink cartridge in his pen.
"Don't try to openly date me, and don't even think about sleeping with your mother. I just happened to let your policewoman pass by our house while she was arresting a criminal."
Ian's profession as a [writer] grants him the power to manipulate coincidences, turning wondrous, accidental phenomena into echoes of reality and the mind. To a certain extent, Ian can control the minds of every being, making them act according to his own will, which these beings find difficult to perceive and believe to be their true thoughts.
The stories written by writers will become reality. Of course, if the story is illogical and instead uses vague reasons such as "inexplicable" or "strange" to drive events, then the story will consume more of Ian's writing skills. For this reason, he certainly cannot anchor himself to a life that is much, much stronger than himself.
However, Lucifer's destined lover, the policewoman, is just a mortal. This is a typical story of a CEO and a commoner. Lucifer appears as the " King of Hell," using his superpowers to seduce people, while the policewoman Chloe is the first human who is not affected by his " Demons instincts."
This naturally piqued Lucifer's interest, to the point that Lucifer became infatuated and even "defined" a weakness for himself: he would lose his invincibility when he was near the policewoman. He wanted to appear vulnerable in front of her so that his identity Demon King wouldn't be discovered. This allowed Ian to seize the opportunity to obtain some useful Divine Blood ink.
"What? Detective Chloe is nearby?" This is typical of a love-struck Demon King. Lucifer covered his nose, his mind completely elsewhere, no longer on Ian's actions.
"Oh! I have to ask her if she needs my help—" He instantly forgot the pain, stuffed a wad of tissue up his nose, and pulled out his phone to start typing like crazy.
Ian is a kind-hearted Ian.
He didn't mention that the toilet paper under the sofa came from Jordan.
It was stained with sin.
The boy, with his exceptionally high emotional intelligence, focused intently on absorbing Lucifer's Divine Blood into his pen. The Divine Blood circulated within the ink sac, emanating a certain ancient power.
"Perfect."
Ian grinned, gripped his pen, and prepared to begin his "writer's work." He still kept in mind the fundamental principle of not directly referencing God and the Goddess of Creation. He certainly wouldn't dare to depict God and the Goddess of Creation directly, but what did writing the story of [ Charlotte and Jonathan ] have to do with God and the Goddess of Creation?
Charlotte Richards felt parched. The red wine from the candlelight dinner made her slightly warm. She got up and went to the kitchen refrigerator. She opened the freezer and took out a bottle of clear liquid labeled " Ian's Special Pregnancy Divine Water." However, she didn't know that this was a forbidden potion specially concocted for the gods by Ian's newly sworn brother.
Charlotte Richards treated it like an ordinary drink and downed it. Just then, the aphrodisiac Lucifer had mixed into her dinner took effect. Divine radiance erupted within her, resonating with the pregnancy potion. Instantly, she became pregnant with 88,888 placentas.
These placentas, once they fall to the ground, become children.
If ginseng fruit can transform into a child, then the placenta can certainly transform as well, so this makes perfect sense—it's believed that every child's cry upon birth can awaken a mother's maternal love.
Jonathan faced the Goddess of Creation, was forced to forgo dinner, and began preparing his ten-thousand-year-long plan to raise children. Thus, Ian Kent finally gained freedom and peace.
Ian's extraordinary talent was coming into play. He concentrated his writing skills and, under the light rain outside tonight, penned a short Story After the Rain in his Magic Book.
The handwriting twisted and writhed on the paper, like a living thing. With each word, Ian's face grew paler. By the eighty-eighth word, his skin began to crack; by the hundredth, his hair had turned gray; and by the time he finished five hundred words, he was as dry as if he had tens of thousands of wives.
Only his eyes still gleamed with an eerie light.
[ Berserker Experience +11]
[Berserker Earth Experience +13]
[ Berserker Experience +14]
The entire short story flows seamlessly, and the author's power begins to take effect. However, even so, due to some of the descriptions...
When Ian finished writing the last period, he felt as if all his power and magic had been drained away in an instant. His skin was dry, his muscles were atrophied, and his eye sockets were sunken.
He became like a dried-up corpse.
"Writer—Sir, I've succeeded!"
Ian slumped over the sofa.
His mouth grinned and he made a dry, joyful sound, even though his voice was a little breathless, as if he might fart at any moment, but this did not affect his sense of relief in the slightest.
Ian, drained to a dry state, lay under the sofa, laughing like a mummy.
How did you become one?
Lucifer was also dumbfounded.
He also understands how to alter reality, but his power is below that of God, and he knows how difficult it is to influence God; even he has to exert all his strength to have even the slightest impact.
"This is real power!" Ian trembled as he pulled out a bottle of Veterinary Growth Hormone. The bottle was printed with the words "GG -Quack Quack Grow Meat " and he tilted his head back and gulped down the entire bottle of veterinary medicine without a doubt.
[ Savage Tyrant Experience Points +6]
[ Savage Tyrant Experience Points +7]
[ Savage Tyrant Experience Points +5]
Ian, who had started binge-eating Snickers, but judging from the feedback from the Savage Tyrant, it was indeed quite potent.
Since discovering that disinfectant can also increase experience, Ian's focus has shifted from expensive Enhancement Serum to a wide variety of cost-effective leveling items at the veterinary station.
"Wait! The source of your anchoring power to reality is—my Divine Power?!" Lucifer replied to the policewoman's message before realizing something was amiss.
The youngest son of the Kent family seems to be putting the traditional skills of this " Sweet Home " to good use, just like Superman racking his brains, Lucifer is now helping Ian with all his might.
It was discovered that Ian's "anchoring to reality" was actually a clever way of exploiting his power. The aphrodisiac was his, the Divine Blood was his.
Ian's writing is, in fact, based on his very existence.
Then the alteration of reality was completed.
This is truly something that Lucifer finds difficult to comment on.
Oh, this is the realm of wisdom.
Ian spoke weakly but proudly, "Why do you think I slapped you? How could I write a story of this caliber without letting my mortal pen absorb some Divine Blood to evolve?"
He makes a valid point.
"..."
Lucifer's expression was incredibly interesting.
He opened his mouth.
Lucifer desperately wanted to invite Ian to be the devil right now. However, before he could even figure out how to offer Ian a cigarette,
The story outside the sofa has already begun.
I'm a little thirsty.
Charlotte suddenly put down her fork. Sure enough, Charlotte's human body felt thirsty, and the Goddess of Creation inside naturally had to follow the laws of nature.
Her body instincts made her rise naturally and walk towards the refrigerator. Seeing Charlotte with her back to her, the elegant composure of the God Jonathan vanished instantly. The all-knowing and all-powerful God might not care about most things, but at this moment, God truly cared about what Ian had written.
The God- like Jonathan was a bit flustered. After confirming that Charlotte had entered the kitchen, he quickly dipped his fingertip in red wine and wrote invisible words on the table.
Ian was unaware that his pregnancy potion would become completely ineffective if refrigerated, turning it into an ordinary beverage, and that his pregnancy magic was extremely poorly applied.
There is no success, only failure.
There were no lengthy explanations or convoluted rationale; a simple definition was given, the words appeared, and were immediately erased by the God- like Jonathan with his finger.
at the same time.
Under the sofa, Ian was slowly recovering his flesh and blood with the help of various technologies and nutrients. Suddenly, he sensed something, and a sense of desolation mixed with utter defeat welled up in his heart.
"I failed to steal the chicken—damn it, no, my flesh and blood, which would still be absolutely stunning even if taken out alone!" Ian experienced what it meant to fail at the last hurdle.
Charlotte has already finished the bottle of the super pregnancy potion.
She licked her lips contentedly.
"It tastes like strawberry soda."
The Goddess of Creation's abdomen remained unchanged; instead, she burped.
Ian watched as the other woman walked back, and the goddess remained unaffected. His last glimmer of hope that she had a [female prime minister] belly that could comfortably accommodate over 80,000 children was completely shattered.
Young writers still need more experience.
God smiled and looked towards the sofa. On the floor in front of Ian, a new line of text appeared. "The contest between two writers has ended with the older writer emerging victorious."
Ian stared at the line of text and became mute.
His only consolation was that although he hadn't succeeded, he had at least obtained a cup of Divine Blood Ink, which meant he could at least force a fair outcome.
It's nothing more than going back from a winning streak of 9,980 to a winning streak of 9,979. Thinking about it this way, the Metropolis God of God of Gamblers is still in a winning state.
Outside the sofa, candlelight flickered.
God Jonathan pretended nothing had happened, occasionally cracking a few outdated jokes; he seemed quite content, even though the Goddess of Creation chewed her food with a completely expressionless face the entire time.
The Goddess of Creation chewed her food without any expression throughout.
Did you know? The reason why humanity is so wonderful---
Jonathan God was about to do some "educational" when the Goddess of Creation suddenly interrupted him, staring at him with suspicious eyes.
"Why are you talking so much? Do you want to sleep with me too?" The Goddess of Creation never fails to shock with her words; it seems she learned human reproduction and courtship behavior just by visiting the human world.
"..."
The knife in God Jonathan's hand fell onto the plate with a "clang".
"Hmm, I see." The Goddess of Creation tilted her head, suddenly pulled up her collar, looked down at the "two big steamed buns" inside, and then nodded as if she had just realized something.
"I understand, you humans like bodies like this, I can understand." She put down her fork and stood up. "But, child, if you want to sleep, you have to go after Ian."
What explosive words!
Ian even wanted to cut off his own ear while hiding under the sofa.
"?????"
Even God Jonathan was somewhat speechless.
He watched Charlotte Richards walk toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
God Jonathan also stood up.
"Now I need to go find my new friend and see if she was eaten by wild humans on her way to buy alcohol—I remember you humans really enjoy cannibalism."
The Goddess of Creation dusted off non-existent dust from her dress, opened the door, and left. God opened his mouth as if to say something, but the Goddess of Creation had already disappeared into the night.
Stay where you are.
In front of the dining table.
Only half a steak remained, along with a sullen-looking Creator.
"Damn it, looks like my medicine didn't work either." Lucifer gritted his teeth as he crawled out, brushing off the dust and Ian's footprints that were indeed on his suit.
"Hi, Samael."
Jonathan God sat in his chair, somewhat annoyed, and threw away his napkin.
Don't call me by that name!
Lucifer instantly flew into a rage.
The restaurant's chandeliers began to sway violently—this was a relatively minor earthquake.
"Oh, right, you've changed your own name now." God slowly forked a piece of broccoli. He didn't eat it, but simply observed the ripe broccoli growing and blooming on his fork.
"You didn't stop your mother's outrageous behavior."
He appeared to be holding someone accountable, but he was actually just sighing.
"I already had a plan, but it's all your fault, your very appearance, that ruined everything. You've always been like this, never admitting it, always just shifting the blame onto others."
"It's like evil, Hell, all of which originated from your creation, but who realizes that? Nobody! Everyone just blames me for everything!"
Lucifer's skin began to redden, and his horns and fangs were revealed in an instant, his true form of demonic strife becoming faintly visible.
"Stop making that nonchalant face of yours! I'm giving you a chance to apologize to me one by one and make amends for all the crimes you've committed!"
His finger almost poked God's nose.
God put down the fork.
The metal plate made a crisp sound as it collided with the porcelain plate.
"I thought that after so much time, you would have matured a bit." He looked up, his eyes gleaming like a galaxy, "But it seems you're still as disappointing as ever."
The stern father's demeanor was very evident at this moment.
Lucifer, however, did not like this approach.
"You stripped me of my glory! You cast me into the abyss! You condemned me to eternal rest! Apologize!!!" Lucifer roared.
The sound waves seemed to shatter the entire dimension.
Hell swirled around him.
But God intervened and stabilized everything. He stood up and quietly walked to Lucifer. The two supreme beings stood face to face.
Space was being distorted and deformed by Lucifer's wrath.
This should have been an epic standoff—if only the background noise wasn't the "crackling" sound of digging.
Thump, thump, thump-.
A dull thud of digging came from under the sofa.
God frowned.
Lucifer's lips twitched.
The sound was continuous, like some kind of drilling machine frantically digging.
"Why!"
God sighed, turned around, and lifted the sofa.
The space under the sofa was empty, except for a bottomless hole with several obvious claw marks along its edges. From deep within the hole, one could faintly hear Ian humming a tune.
"I'm a little armored cat~ digging and digging and digging~"
The sound faded into the distance.
Clearly, " Ian in Armor" has already used Earth Escape.
God is the oldest life form and the creator of words and speech, but at this moment, He feels He has finally found something He could not do.
That is, how to describe one's feelings in words, and Ian's actions.
At that very moment.
Lucifer suddenly burst out laughing.
"See? He's not afraid of me, but he's afraid of you—afraid that you'll use his body to sleep with Mom. You're the truly cunning and treacherous one."
"An evil and vicious existence."
He pointed to his bleeding nose, as if it had become some kind of honor that could be used to strike at God.
"Oh?"
God silently gazed at the hole in the ground, then suddenly raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
"Holy crap! Why can't I dig anymore?! Minecraft? I've hit the hardest bedrock?" Deep underground, near the Earth's core, Ian exclaimed in surprise.
"Speaking of cunning and treachery—we haven't settled the score for you poisoning the food yet." God Jonathan straightened his clothes at this moment, then turned to look at Lucifer again.
The Demon King's expression froze instantly.
He stared at his petty-minded father and swallowed hard.
The air felt slightly stagnant.
Only the faint flickering of the candlelight remained in the living room.
Lucifer, due to his self-perception, maintained his ferocious demonic form, with his fangs protruding and blood still flowing from his nose even after the tissue was torn off.
Blood trickled down the corner of her mouth, staining the expensive wool carpet like dark red flowers—outside, there was the sound of police cars; perhaps the policewoman hadn't left yet.
No one knows what little stories Ian wrote in the Magic Book.
"My appointed time with this child is almost up." God Jonathan broke the silence first, his gaze fixed on Lucifer, his voice quiet yet carrying an undeniable power.
This moment.
Lucifer's Father-Persecution Delusion has been triggered again.
The other person's gaze and words made Lucifer's brain spin. It was like being stuffed into a washing machine, with all sorts of absurd thoughts surging through his mind.
A moment later.
"It's not that my body is mass-produced and you can't use it! You have too much light—" He couldn't help but take a few steps back, his face filled with inexplicable fear.
"Don't look at me like that! We're father and son! Father and son! You can't use my body to sleep with Mom!" Lucifer, startled and with a mind brimming with demonic energy, finally admitted that he was God's child. Since he could play with Ian so well, he must not be someone without a sense of propriety.
"??????"
Jonathan God rolled his eyes, as if looking at a hopeless idiot. "If you don't need your brain, put it away in Hell."
He took a deep breath, as if suppressing some kind of impulse.
"I'm telling you that my physical contract with this child is about to expire, and I won't break it. So, I also hope you remember what you promised me."
"Send your mother back, whether to Heaven or Hell." God Jonathan's voice deepened, though not as deep as Jonathan 'Batman due to his hoarseness. As soon as he finished speaking, Jonathan's body suddenly emitted a dazzling white light.
He then collapsed onto the sofa like a powerless doll.
God was probably so enraged by Lucifer's fantastical ideas that He sent the sun to earth.
"You old geezer! You old bastard!"
Lucifer stood still, staring at the unconscious Jonathan for a moment, then suddenly turned his head sharply, his gaze piercing through layers of dimensions, directly locking onto a certain camera that was spying on him.
"Don't let me catch you recording Gangling."
He raised his head and made a turning motion as if turning on a switch. The next moment...
In the Dimensional Gap: Death Studio, the mirror in front of Lady Death suddenly turned into a static screen, and Lucifer's threatening expression vanished instantly.
"Who cares to look at him? When it comes to narcissism, Ian is number one, and Lucifer is always his second best." Lady Death curled her lip and turned her attention to another mirror that showed Ian.
In the scene, the boy is frantically gnawing on some kind of hard rock, comparable to bedrock in Minecraft, deep underground, muttering things like "a close match"—her gaze remains fixed on the mirror, watching Ian relentlessly digging at the modified soil and stone like a groundhog.
Just as Lady Death was engrossed in watching, the woman in the white dress, who called herself "The Theory" lord, suddenly spoke.
"If you keep spying on him like this, he'll have solid proof that you have a crush on him." The Lady Paradox's voice was as cold as a wind chime, as if she were warning Lady Death.
Lady Death was taken aback for a moment, then laughed.
"Oh? It seems you know my little follower quite well." Lady Death's voice was like silk gliding over a blade. She slowly floated away from the mirror, her black skirt fluttering even without wind.
The embodiment of the concept finally looked at the other person, scrutinizing the Lady Paradox from head to toe. A few Starlight slipped from her hair, transforming into fragments of spiritual images the moment they touched the ground.
"You seem a bit special, Time Lord. Is there something you need from me?" She suddenly moved closer, her icy breath condensing into frost flowers on her veil.
Lady Death, her fingertips veiled in black gauze, lifted the edge of the umbrella, revealing the delicate chin of the woman in the white dress—a chin almost invisible with a golden crack.
Something about it looks rather strange.
The umbrella was tilted slightly.
The Lady Paradox raised her head, revealing a pair of dazzling golden eyes beneath her veil. Countless fragments of time were reflected within them, each seemingly reassembling Annihilation in the blink of an eye.
Seeing this scene.
Lady Death narrowed her eyes slightly, a playful smile curving her lips.
"Indeed, it seems my judgment was still sharp." Her voice was like silk gliding over a blade, carrying a hint of languor and danger. "You are different from other Time Lord."
She floated closer, her black gauze skirt fluttering even without wind, her entire body shrouded in countless Antonian spirit images. Lady Death extended her hand, her fingertips attempting to gently lift the white-dressed woman's chin.
Her cold nails almost pierced the thin veil. However, there was clearly a reason why the other person was using an umbrella indoors; no one in this world genuinely wishes they were short.
Just as Lady Death's fair fingers were about to touch the other person, some kind of barrier appeared, preventing her from actually making contact with the woman indoors who seemed to be showing off while holding an umbrella.
That's clearly the purpose of that umbrella.
"There are quite a few gadgets, but they're boring."
Lady Death withdrew her command.
Her voice suddenly lowered, as if whispering, "Tell me, at the end of time... was it me who saw you off, or you who witnessed my demise?"
Lady Death sensed something about the other person, but the other person didn't answer the question. The woman in the white dress remained silent for a moment, her expression unchanged beneath the veil.
"If you want to know your fate, you can ask your brother." The Lady Paradox did not answer the Lady Death's question.
She simply turned her head slightly, avoiding Lady Death's gaze.
"I'm here for Ian Kent." She raised her hand, her slender finger pointing to a small mirror floating to the side. In the mirror,
Ian had already started digging again.
Because he had used his intelligence to take a different path, and since all roads lead to Gotham, Lord Ian was going to find his most beloved nephew to create an invincible iron crotch. It had to be the kind that could defend against attacks from the Goddess of Creation; such a treasure "could only be created by the wisdom of Batman."
"Oh? For my little follower?" Lady Death chuckled, her gaze falling on the umbrella. Her eyes held a thoughtful expression.
It seemed as if something could be gleaned from the light flowing between the umbrella ribs.
Throughout, the woman in the white dress held her umbrella steadily above her head, its surface shrouded in obscure runes, as if it contained the most brilliant power of some kind of technological achievement at its end.
"Yes."
The next moment.
The woman in the white dress raised her head again, her delicate face partially obscured by the veil.
Her gaze pierced Lady Death like a sharp sword.
"I'm here to have you remove his protection— Ian Kent —and face his destined death." At this Time Lord's demeanor clearly indicated he wasn't discussing anything.
It felt like a forced requirement.