The Lady Paradox's tone carried a certain firmness.
There is absolutely no room for negotiation.
It was as if I were stating an ending that had to be achieved.
"You also have a responsibility to guide him to his end. You are death itself, and you shouldn't have your own preferences," the woman said softly, the shadow under her umbrella swaying slightly.
It was as if countless afterimages of timelines were constantly surging and emerging within it.
"Drink, then, lecture?"
Lady Death's smile gradually turned cold.
The temperature in the studio suddenly dropped to freezing point, and the various biological specimens on the display shelves began to tremble restlessly. The eyeballs suspended in the glass jars all turned towards the woman in the white dress.
"Are you going to give Ian Kent a destined death?"
Lady Death repeated the word softly, her fingertips tracing her lips as if savoring some unfamiliar taste. "Darling, you seem to have misunderstood something."
"Who should live and who should die is never your decision... Standing here, who do you think you're talking to?" Her voice was no longer languidly sweet.
Instead, it transformed into the deep bass of millions of souls roaring simultaneously. Lady Death's black veil skirt fluttered without wind, and the concept of death swept in like a black tide, rushing straight towards Lady Paradox, the Time Lord.
In Lady Death's realm, all life will eventually end, and all existence will eventually return to nothingness—she is not a killer, she is the embodiment of the end.
"The corrosive influence of death?"
The woman in the white dress's pupils contracted slightly, but her stance remained as steady as a rock. The runes on the umbrella flickered wildly, resisting the erosion of the power of death.
The air between the two began to distort, and the laws of time and death clashed violently at that moment.
Lady Death wasn't using her full strength.
She made a series of probes.
As expected.
The tangible concepts turned to ashes the moment they touched the edge of the umbrella, and the shadow cast by the umbrella seemed to form its own world, isolating the concept of death from it.
That seemingly ordinary black long-handled umbrella might actually be the Lady Paradox's greatest asset. The Lady Death's attacks were like mud oxen entering the sea, swallowed, distorted, and reversed by the " Paradox Space " under the umbrella.
Her power not only failed to reach the Lady Paradox, but was instead reflected as a " Power of Resurrection," causing a character who had long since died to open his eyes again in a shattered mirror.
"Tsk."
Lady Death's expression grew even colder.
"You dodged quickly."
As she spoke, she raised her hand again and closed the lucky man's eyelids, allowing the briefly revived lucky man to return to where he belonged.
"Calm down, I hope you can calm down."
The Time Lord's voice still carried a forced calm.
"Believe me, I'm absolutely not here to provoke you. I'm just doing what I have to do—fulfilling a promise." She slightly lifted the edge of the umbrella, revealing her delicate jawline.
There was a golden crack there, flowing with the energy of time.
"So you think you can convince me?"
Lady Death suddenly smiled.
" Time Lord... you are using a power that does not belong to you. It may be able to temporarily isolate me from your influence, but you and I will eventually meet at the end of your life."
She didn't make another move, but instead probed the power represented by the umbrella. It contained many universes and timelines, and it was this "moat" that blocked her invitation.
"My life is stuck in a bug, so that time will never come," the Lady Paradox said softly, her tone neither boastful nor wistful.
"Oh?"
The walls of the studio began to melt, revealing an endless void behind them, where countless spirits slept— Lady Death floated to the same height as Lady Paradox.
She tilted her head slightly, a hint of amusement flashing in her dark pupils.
"Interesting."
Lady Death did not deny the other party's statement. It is unknown what she observed, but her fingertips lightly traced the surface of the umbrella, leaving a scorching mark that emitted black smoke.
"I can sense your fear of Ian Kent, yet you harbor no hatred for him, and yet you want him dead... It's truly contradictory." Her voice suddenly took on a mocking tone.
"If you want him dead, you shouldn't be asking me, but rather seeking out the one who truly decides everything. What? Don't you have the courage to confront our Creator?"
Lady Death's tone was incredibly amused.
The shadow beneath the umbrella swayed slightly.
The Lady Paradox's golden pupils gleamed behind her veil, and grains of time trickled down from the cracks at the corners of her eyes.
"This is a promise that there can only be one ending."
Her voice was as calm as if she were announcing a given fact.
Lady Death suddenly moved closer, so close that she could see the foundation clinging to the other person's eyelashes.
"With whom did you make the promise?"
Her breath formed frost on her veil.
"Could it be that old guy who's always patching up the timeline?"
Lady Death chuckled.
The woman in the white dress silently turned the umbrella handle, and countless projections of the universe appeared and disappeared on the umbrella surface.
You can't stop me.
She finally spoke, her voice echoing, "Soon, God will disappear, and I will step forward and personally deliver Ian Kent's destined death."
Suddenly, a blinding golden light burst forth from the tip of the umbrella.
The influence of Lady Death's words was dispelled. Suddenly, the studio's glass shattered simultaneously, countless shards floating in the air, each reflecting a different scene of death.
Ian struggled at the edge of the black hole, was pierced by Kryptonite Spear, and vanished in a time Paradox... Suddenly, Lady Death reached out and crushed the nearest piece of glass into shreds.
"My dear, it seems you've forgotten who the true embodiment of death is?" Her black gauze gloves, stained with glistening fragments, spoke with unwavering disdain to the Time Lord before her.
"What if I say no to your request?" Lady Death suddenly raised her black veil glove and pressed it against the other person's umbrella. The somewhat surprised Lady Paradox finally let out a muffled groan.
But he still held the umbrella handle very firmly.
The studio seemed to be plunged into endless darkness.
Only the umbrella still emitted a faint light, illuminating the Lady Paradox's delicate jawline. She slightly raised her head, her golden pupils appearing like two shrunken suns in the darkness.
"I know you'll agree." She raised her left hand and gently placed it on Lady Death's chest. "After we've traveled together to the end of time."
Before Death could speak with such interest, the woman in the white dress suddenly looked up and shouted.
"TARDIS! Now!"
The words had barely left his mouth.
The Blue Police Box on the ceiling suddenly lit up with a blinding light, and the rotating police lights released huge force field ripples. The entire death workshop began to tremble violently, and the glass specimens on the display shelves began to shatter one after another. The glass shards floated in the air, and each shard reflected the figures of two women confronting each other.
How dare you—
Lady Death's furious roar was drowned out by the buzzing of dimensional jumps.
Countless golden streaks of light projected from the British police box, enveloping the entire space like a spiderweb. With the final flash, the studio and the police box underwent a kind of transformation.
The police booth, the small shop, Lady Death, Lady Paradox... everything vanished without a trace. The dimensional rift returned to silence, as if no one had ever spoken there.
Along with the figures of the two supreme beings, they were completely erased from the sight of all observers.
Inside Gotham's Batcave.
Clark's pupils suddenly contracted, and he lost his view of the dimensional rift. Not only that, after withdrawing his gaze, Clark also felt some soreness in his eyes due to overusing them.
"They've disappeared. I can't hear what they were saying. But the two women got into an argument and have now vanished from my sight together, as if they'd done some kind of spatial jump."
Clark's ears haven't evolved to that level yet, so it's like he's watching a silent film, or at least one where his field of vision is limited, preventing him from fully utilizing his lip-reading talent.
"My tracking didn't work either." Bruce looked up from the console, his fingertips rapidly sliding across the holographic projection. Dozens of monitoring screens projected based on Superman bio-science flashed warnings of "signal loss." He seemed thoughtful, then performed some more operations on the console.
"They're not invisible. The force field fluctuations indicate they may have already left this universe." Bruce Wayne finished speaking and stopped the pointless investigation.
The existing Batman technology is still somewhat insufficient.
" Clark, you should find a way to further evolve your eyes." Bruce Wayne knew that improving his Batman technology in a short period of time would be troublesome.
The best approach is to urge and remind Superman to evolve quickly. Just as Superman treats Batman as his external brain, isn't Superman also part of Batman's Batman?
As I said before, this is probably what true friends are like.
"With great power comes great responsibility." Bruce said without batting an eye, borrowing Ian's famous quote, "Since you can see the dimensional rifts, you should be able to see even further, like all the Multiverse, or even beyond the Multiverse, like the fictional universe depicted in Ian's comics."
"Then I'll acknowledge you as a true Superman."
Batman uses his superb vocalizations to spur Clark on.
"..."
Looking at Bruce's serious face, Clark suddenly had an urge to shove Kryptonite down his throat, but thankfully he was now completely sober.
The alcohol taste is gone.
Even pretending to be drunk just needs that one perfect opportunity.
"Stop with the Ian-isms. The most important thing right now is to find out who that woman is. My gut feeling tells me she's not a 'good person.'"
Inside the Batcave, a red and blue cloak draped across the cold metal floor, its shadow intertwining with the Batman emblem. Clark Kent stood before the control panel, his brow furrowed.
His gaze lingered once more in the direction of that "disappeared dimension."
"If intuition worked, the world wouldn't need investigation, analysis, research, or reasoning." Bruce Wayne stood in front of the terminal, his fingers flying across the keyboard, expressing his distrust of Clark's intuition without even looking up. That's understandable; Batman only trusts his Batman- intuition.
So what's your opinion?
Clark turned to look at Bruce Wayne.
"If you want the answer, you'll have to let me see your brain." Upon hearing this, Bruce stopped what he was doing again, slowly turned around, and locked his gaze on Clark like a probe.
"Using this as an excuse to study me again, huh?" Clark sighed, but resignedly stood up. His exceptional vision allowed him to see from his seat that Batman had already activated a certain device.
This means that the other party wasn't actually asking for my opinion.
" Ian's praise of the Kent Family's Super Intelligence is well-deserved." Bruce offered a little emotional support, then led Clark to a newly revealed device in the corner, one that Clark had never seen before—the machine resembled a metal chair, with a complex neural interface helmet connected to the top, covered in shimmering quantum nodes.
"When did you build this thing?" Clark sat on the device that looked like it came straight out of a science fiction movie, letting Bruce put the helmet on him. However, the moment the helmet was on, he couldn't help but ask, "When you were probing Barry's dreams before, did you realize that one day you would need to probe my memories and dreams?"
It has to be said that after all these years, Superman is still that innocent boy. Upon hearing this, Bruce's fingers paused for a moment on the connector.
" Clark, do you remember the first time we met?" He looked up, his answer seemingly unrelated to the question, his eyes beneath the mask appearing exceptionally deep in the dim light.
Clark hesitated for a moment, then finally nodded.
"You beat me up so badly, of course I can't forget." He gave the embarrassed Batman a death stare, and Batman quickly shook his head, saying it wasn't this time.
He guided Clark to recall, and Clark finally realized the truth.
"Oh, right, if we're talking about our first informal meeting, I remember it was on a cruise ship. I was on vacation and was assigned to the same cabin as you on the same cruise ship. Thinking about it now, maybe it wasn't a coincidence." Clark hadn't lived in vain all these years.
We've finally made some progress in utilizing our Super Brain.
"Yes, that was many years ago." Bruce Wayne replied with deep emotion as he continued adjusting the instrument's wiring.
"So, it was around that time that you had already built these instruments targeting me?" Clark asked thoughtfully, his tone somewhat speechless.
"No."
Bruce Wayne shook his head.
"It was a little before that... probably when you were still in college." Batman continued the call, revealing a secret he had kept buried for many years.
"."
Clark was certainly caught off guard.
It felt as if ten thousand Grass Mud Horse with Batman heads were galloping through my mind.
"What does this have to do with our first meeting?" He rolled his eyes in annoyance and looked at Batman with a strange tone, while Batman continued to work on his circuitry.
"It's not really a big deal, but I just wanted to remind you of our years of friendship, so you won't get too angry about it." Batman's voice remained calm.
Clark paused for a moment, stunned.
A warm feeling suddenly welled up in my heart.
Just as he was about to marvel at how Batman actually cared about other people's feelings...
Batman added another sentence.
"Getting angry will affect the operation of this machine." Batman arranged the wiring, walked to the control panel, and gestured to Clark with his eyes to sit still and not move.
"..."
Clark's smile froze, his fists clenched instantly. Batman hadn't used his fists; he'd shattered his dream of friendship with just a single sentence, which truly made him grit his teeth in anger.
Of course, unlike Ian, Clark was good at assessing the situation. Because he was wearing the other party's device and was worried about retaliation, he could only show a very forced smile.
"Let's begin."
Clark sighed softly, deciding that once everything was over, he would pretend not to see Ian moving Wayne Enterprises ' satellite orbit to the far side of the sun when Ian launched the satellite.
A real man's revenge is silent and stealthy.
"Um."
Bruce Wayne, whose Batman Intelligence failed to detect the Dark Superman's thoughts immediately, did not succeed in reading his mind. After giving him a hint, he immediately started the refurbished old machine.
moment.
Clark experienced a moment of disorientation.
The memory projection began to play— Batman's pupils contracted slightly. On the screen, in Clark's dimension of consciousness, countless Starlight streaked past as he plummeted, passing through layers of fragmented spacetime. And at the end of that void, the woman in the white dress stood quietly, a mysterious smile playing on her lips beneath her veil.
He certainly noticed how familiar the smile seemed.
The instrument has stopped operating.
Clark took off his helmet.
"So, what did you find?"
Superman noticed Bruce Wayne's changing expression and asked somewhat uneasily, but Bruce Wayne did not answer him immediately.
The Gotham Weirdo kept his eyes on the recorded memories, but he didn't dwell on the woman's smile. Instead, he zoomed in on the umbrella she was holding, as if he had discovered something.
No one knew what information he had detected, but as soon as Clark looked over, he immediately deleted the recording backup file from his computer.
Some files will only be sealed away in Bruce Wayne's own mind.
That was the safest archives room.
The memory palace, which Sherlock Holmes was so proud of, was used to perfection not only by the Master of Gotham, but also by some of Gotham's little-known villains.
"What's wrong with you?"
When Clark walked over, he only saw a blank control screen, while Batman stared at it, seemingly deep in thought, his philtrum furrowed.
This is much harder than frowning.
Bruce stared at the screen, remaining silent for a long time.
After Clark shook him, asking if he was being disturbed by something again and threatening to find a crowbar to crack open his skull and see if there was any new Outer Universe contamination inside, Bruce Wayne, who knew that Superman was only 49% a joke, immediately forced himself to break free from thinking.
"Do you think it's possible that Ian Kent has a twin sister?" He slowly turned around, his gaze sharp as a knife, staring directly at Clark, who was already testing the crowbar.
Here with Batman.
Clark's decisiveness was always earnest.
"What? Why are you suddenly asking this?" Clark looked slightly disappointed as Bruce Wayne spoke in human language again. He threw away the crowbar he had used to scare Batman, somewhat bewildered.
"Something's amiss."
Under Clark's watchful gaze, Bruce Wayne offered only a brief explanation, without going into detail about the reason for his discovery of something strange.
He'll get his head smashed by Clark sooner or later; he's definitely not innocent.
" The Riddler, huh? Gotham style, huh?" Clark was used to Batman's personality; he knew he could crack Batman's skull but not his mouth.
He pondered for a moment, about to say that he couldn't answer the question either, but felt it was unlikely, when a very clear and violent tremor came from underground.
Even an ordinary person could feel that commotion.
"Earthquake?"
The thought only flashed through Bruce Wayne's mind before he immediately dismissed the possibility of an earthquake, while Clark had already used his vision to see through the underground.
It was too late.
Suddenly, the floor bulged upwards, sending rubble and dust flying everywhere. Batman and Superman both took a step back, speechless as they watched the collapsing ground. The next moment, a mud-covered hand emerged from the ground, followed by messy black hair, and finally a smug, dusty face.
"Haha! I knew the mere foundations of Gotham couldn't stop me!" Ian Kent crawled out of the hole, dusted himself off, and exuded a mix of pride and dishevelment, like someone returning from a long expedition.
There were still fragments of alloy remaining in his mouth. Clearly, Bruce Wayne's alloy foundation was inferior to God's Eternity foundation, and in Ian's mouth, it only ended up crunching.
It tastes almost as good as dim sum cookies.
[ Entropy Annihilation Lord Experience +21]
[ Entropy Annihilation Lord Experience +19]
[ Entropy Annihilation Lord Experience +23]
Ian knew he would always be warmly received when he came to Batman's house.
He emerged from the ground, his mouth full of genuine steel slag, and, thirsty, looked around, hoping to find some fitness drinks that couldn't be bought elsewhere.
" Uncle Bruce, your Uncle Ian needs your help. Quickly build me an iron crotch that even God can't open. I know you can definitely build it if you really want to."
While searching for a small drink, Ian tried to manipulate Bruce Wayne. He was genuinely terrified; heaven knows what would happen if the Goddess of Creation really came after him.
And what if God, in a fit of anger, wanted to sleep with him again—that would mean Ian would be slept with twice, and he didn't want that kind of sexual harassment happening to him.
If Bruce can get out of his wheelchair so quickly, then Bruce will surely be able to perform the Batman miracle and create the iron crotch that Ian wants. This is Ian's respect for Batman!
[ Savage Tyrant Experience Points +88]
[ Savage Tyrant Experience Points +96]
[ Savage Tyrant Experience Points +87]
However, after taking the opportunity to drink several small beverages, Ian noticed the atmosphere in the room— Clark Kent sat in a chair, his cloak dull and his eyes tired.
Bruce Wayne stood in front of the control panel, expressionless, watching as Ian drank many of his poisons as if they were enhancement drugs. However, he did not get to see Ian collapse and spit bubbles as he had hoped.
This boy.
After drinking the poison, he became even more energetic.
"Wait! Dad, what are you doing here? My Black Box tells me this is a secret garden known only to Batman, a place he uses to hide from pests and such." Ian saw Bruce and his father, and in shock, he quickly asked.
"Dad! Are you having a secret rendezvous with Batman behind Mom's back?" After all, living in the free United States, Ian had to consider the worst-case scenario.
This is the way of thinking that < The Guide for Superiors > taught him.
"???"
"?????"
Clark and Batman both reacted quite strongly, their expressions quite interesting. Batman wanted to create a real sewing machine to sew Ian's mouth shut, while Clark simply slapped himself on the forehead.
A crisp sound, the kind that comes from a good brain, filled the air. Clark didn't want to answer that kind of question, so in response to Ian's persistent questioning, he could only point to the large bed in the room.
Lois, drunk, was fast asleep on top of it.
"!!!!!!!"
Ian reacted strongly, almost jumping up to the ceiling. His questioning stopped abruptly as he finally noticed Lois, who was lying unconscious on the bed.
This moment.
Ian had always thought his parents were very traditional, was struck dumb. However, before he could even utter a nuclear explosion, Batman had already silently slipped to the front door, his finger about to touch the emergency escape button. Just as the Bat Mutant was about to slip out, Ian used Tyrant's Leap to instantly block his path.
"I knew I heard that earlier! Someone said they wanted to have a sister for me! That damn Uncle Bruce! Are you hiding from your Uncle Ian because you're too ashamed to face anyone?"
Ian was truly furious.
Fortunately, Clark immediately explained the situation, clarifying the whole story, which prevented Ian, who wanted to protect his family's happiness, from jumping up and ripping Bruce Wayne's head off. Clark didn't know if Bruce Wayne had any backup plans; he just didn't want Ian to clash with Batman because of a misunderstanding.
"So that's how it is... A mysterious woman... stole my smile, but didn't pay me any royalties. These days, I have to pay to post even an emoji."
Ian's expression gradually became serious.
However, his focus was clearly not on the right thing.
That's not the point, is it?
Clark sighed and looked at his youngest son.
"Yes, yes, the main point is that I failed to save God's marriage. The Goddess of Creation is searching the whole world for me. The most urgent thing is to get Uncle Bruce to make an invincible iron crotch for his Uncle Ian." Ian instantly realized what was happening and tried to slap Bruce on the head, but Bruce dodged it.
"Could you please stop mentioning 'uncle' all the time?"
Bruce Wayne is just as exhausted as Clark right now. To be honest, if Ian were truly wicked and wanted to do something really bad, he could still find a way to punish him.
Unfortunately, the boy only wanted to be an uncle and had no other evil intentions whatsoever, which made Bruce Wayne, who knew the other party was not lying, feel like he had met his nemesis.
In comparison.
My own little rascal is just so innocent, pure, and naive!
"An iron crotch that even God can't open? Aren't you overestimating me? Honestly, make your wish on someone else. I think your old man is pretty good."
"Let him work hard to evolve an iron crotch for you to inherit." Bruce Wayne was already studying Ian's brain circuitry, and now he was trying to get closer to Ian.
However.
Ian tilted his head and thought for a moment.
Suddenly, he pulled a handful of colorful alchemy materials from his pocket. "Then I'll go find Brother Thomas! He can definitely make it; after all, older Batman are more chewy... I mean, they're smarter."
He didn't mean it; he was just multitasking, and his Super Brain couldn't keep up. As Ian took out the alchemical materials, he began to set up the alchemy in a rather professional manner.
Bruce Wayne tensed instantly.
He wasn't ready yet! But a teleportation array emitting purple smoke lit up on the ground, and a smell resembling Sulfur began to permeate the Batcave.
"Etc!"
Bruce rushed back and stomped on the magic circle, destroying it.
"Let me think about it."
He stared into Ian's expectant eyes and added with difficulty.
"It may take some time." The King of Gotham used military tactics; it was a delaying tactic, but at least it wasn't empty promises. He simply gritted his teeth and stopped Ian's actions.
He only mentioned a timeframe, not a specific one, so it wasn't exactly a lie. Ian had already figured this out, but that didn't stop him from expressing his gratitude.
With Batman carried in a sedan chair, Ian believed that Batman would not disappoint him. Unlike the Flash Batman, Batman was someone who was highly likely to be able to save his loved ones in time.
Of course, this attribute is an exception when it involves parent-child relationships.
"I knew Uncle Bruce could do it! Go for it!" Ian instantly switched from "angry mode" to "grateful mode," and Bruce immediately took action as if he had found a savior.
First, I put away the materials.
Then one side began to make a decision.
Immediately afterwards.
Under the astonished gaze of his father, Clark, Ian didn't say a word, and with a thud—not kneeling down, of course, but rather "supporting" himself on his elbows while doing a handstand on the ground.
This is a way of expressing gratitude that only Super Brain could come up with.
Thump!
He slammed his elbows to the ground with a dull thud. With his elbows on the ground and his knees bent and hanging in the air, Ian perfectly embodied the astonishing talent that "a man's knees are worth gold, but a man's elbows are not."
This wave represents a high level of wisdom.
"..."
Clark watched his son's fluid movements and was truly speechless. For a moment, he couldn't tell whether he or Ian was the strange alien.
"You felt my sincerity, and I felt yours. So—stop crawling in the shadows on the ground. If I remember correctly, it's almost time for you to go to sleep." Batman looked at Ian, who was supporting himself on his hands as he "stood up," and felt like his muscles were about to twitch into twenty-four-pack abs.
"Huh?" Ian was taken aback, and quickly pulled out his watch, which had a different graffiti style every day. It had a grinning skull and the symbol "Zzz" on it.
This is a manually adjusted Graffiti Watch Face, much better than a digital watch.
"That's right, I need to go to sleep. Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy." He immediately pulled a sleeping bag with the words " Ian Special Edition " printed on it from his Dimensional Pocket, his movements as practiced as if he had rehearsed it a thousand times.
Since his last nap, Ian had made some civilized preparations. Ian turned around and told Bruce to pay close attention to this matter, saying things like, "Uncle Ian's innocence depends entirely on your brain," before he crawled into his sleeping bag and, along with the sleeping bag, wriggled under Lois's bed.
As Ian peacefully closed his eyes...
The sleeping bag fell completely silent.
The laboratory suddenly became eerily quiet.
Clark and Bruce stood there, staring at each other.
"Don't speak." Bruce broke the silence first, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded. He had anticipated Clark's prediction, so he gave him a heads-up.
Your youngest son is not my uncle.
His tone was firm, his voice resolute, and he possessed a stubborn handsomeness.
"To be fair, Bruce, that was your father's choice," Superman suddenly said thoughtfully, patting Batman on the shoulder.
"We all need to respect our fathers, don't we?" It's hard to imagine how Clark managed to hold back; he silenced Bruce Wayne with an impeccable justification.
Bruce's lips twitched.
Clark, however, became even more serious.
"Oh, by the way, does this mean our relationship needs to be redefined?" He deliberately counted on his fingers, his tone carrying a rather exaggerated sense of bewilderment.
"If Ian is your uncle, then I should be yours." He didn't finish his sentence, but instead stared at Bruce Wayne with his eyes that could emit Heat Vision.
This moment.
Superman's silent gaze seemed more intense to Bruce Wayne than Heat Vision.
He was in extreme distress.
"I'll go check on Ian's condition." Bruce Wayne changed the subject, turning decisively and striding towards Lois's bed, then kneeling down and reaching for the sleeping bag.
However.
Bruce Wayne's fingers, however, pierced through the surface of the sleeping bag.
Even the sleeping bag was blurred, completely untouchable. Bruce frowned and tried a few more times. The sleeping bag was like a holographic projection, untouchable and its surface rippled with eerie waves.
This is not invisibility, nor is it an illusion; rather, it is a shift in the level of existence—it is no longer within the physical space of this dimension, but has entered some kind of " Pre-sleep Reality Bubble."
Only Ian can enter and exit.
"Just as Barry said... What kind of phenomenon is this? His self-protection mechanism?" Batman Bruce Wayne muttered to himself in surprise.
He couldn't understand it.
So he immediately got up to drag over the testing equipment, hoping to test on-site for any unknown abnormalities related to Ian.
Just then--
Hahahaha!!!
A burst of the Batman Who Laughs suddenly echoed throughout the Batcave. The laughter sounded like Bruce Wayne's voice, yet it also had a chilling quality.
Before Clark and Batman could react...
boom!!!
All the alarms inside the Batcave went off instantly!
A red light flashed, and an alarm blared, engulfing the entire space. All the computer screens lit up simultaneously, the images distorted, and finally froze on a familiar face— Clark Kent's face.
But that wasn't Clark.
Did you miss me?
Injustice Superman's face appeared on every screen, his emotionless, almost thoughtless eyes staring directly at Clark and Bruce in the real world.
at the same time.
Inside the sleeping bag.
Amidst the resounding chimes, Ian surprisingly didn't experience a long journey; he was instantly transported into the Marvel Universe, just like before. He had initially thought he would be "refreshed" back into the black hole he had been in before.
However, he found himself standing in the rain on Earth. Raindrops pattered on Ian's face, cold and real. He blinked and looked down at his hands—there was no black hole tearing, no dimensional distortion; he was simply standing abruptly in the rain curtain of Earth, as if he had been precisely "dropped" here by some force.
"It seems that Professor New Tony's calculations were incorrect..."
Ian looked up at the gloomy sky, rain streaming down his cheeks.
The streets were empty and silent, with only the sound of rain echoing in his ears. The streetlights in the distance flickered, as if their electricity was being interfered with by some force. Just as Ian was about to go to the original form of New Tony to borrow another spaceship and return to space to save his followers with the unparalleled power of his second playthrough.
" Ian Kent..."
A hoarse, deep voice came from the end of the street, accompanied by the rhythmic tapping of a cane on the ground.
"I know you, yes, Ian Kent, the world's first superhero, people call you Superman... and you're the one who ultimately freed us all."
"I'm your fan."
The voice was old and carried a hint of humor.
Ian turned his head to look.
Through the rain, an elderly man in a well-tailored suit walked slowly. Each time his Ruby Cane touched the ground, it created an unnatural ripple in the puddles.
"I've been watching you."
The old man had a smile on his face.
But his eyes burned with Hell flames.
Right now.
A blinding flash of lightning suddenly tore through the night sky, illuminating the entire street as if it were Hell. In an instant, the old man's kind face was revealed in perfect detail, and beneath his loose skin emerged the true face of a demon. Sulfur- colored flames danced in his eyes, and his mouth twisted from ear to ear.
Two rows of fine, sharp teeth were revealed.
The moment the lightning disappeared, the face returned to human form.
"Ah?"
Ian was stunned.
"Were you scared?"
The old man blinked and gave an overly friendly smile. At that moment, raindrops hung suspended in mid-air, each drop reflecting his previously devilish face.
"Don't worry, really, don't worry." The cane tapped the ground lightly, and all the raindrops simultaneously burst into tiny green flames. "This is just a little surprise at the fan meeting."
He walked step by step toward Ian.
Raise your hand.
He wanted to touch Ian's cheek.
"Your fans want to give you a small gift, perhaps..." Before the old man could finish speaking, he saw Ian's eyes light up and he bit down on his palm.
" Mephisto! It's you! Chicken flavor! Crunchy! Ten times the nutritional value of an ordinary Demons!" Ian's teeth were no fewer than the terrified demon's.
This is what the Evil God Lord looks like.
You can grow as many rows of teeth as you want.
DC's teeth have been personally tested by God; anyone who gets bitten by them knows!