My ability to identify people by their voices has finally come online.
"It's Joker who can't jungle!"
When it comes to Ian's fan base, besides Madison, Gotham's Joker is undoubtedly the most prominent. Upon hearing that strange-sounding speech, Ian subconsciously uttered a name that was taboo in Gotham.
joker.
That is, the Joker.
He is one of the most prominent villains in the DC Universe. Compared to another prominent villain, Darkseid, the Joker may have a lower level of existence, but he possesses a terrifying, conceptual power.
There will always be a Joker in the DC Universe. If the old Joker dies, a new Joker will be born. That's why no one ever knows the Joker's real name, and he doesn't need one either.
All people need to know is that he is the Joker, the Eternity Dream Demon of Gotham 'Batman. According to Ian, the Joker should be a quantum life form representing an abstract entity in the DC universe.
Don't ask Ian why he likes using the word "quantum," because his education level is currently only high school.
Of course, we should believe in the great principle of quantum mechanics when in doubt.
In short, the Joker is a collection of chaos, madness, disorder, evil, and depravity, representing the pure symbol of the inherent evil in human nature.
Although he may seem like just a completely irrational madman, he is intelligent enough to rival Batman, evil enough to tempt Superman to his doom, and terrifying enough that nowhere outside Gotham can tolerate him.
Even Ian didn't know how to deal with the Joker, except for stripping Joker and dumping him in India slum.
He couldn't think of any legal way to suppress the Joker's arrogance.
How to deal with the Joker?
Ian didn't know.
He doesn't have the time to think about Batman right now.
"Your father looks like he still has about 180 or 190 breaths left."
As the sound of watching the Joker rang out again,
Ian was immediately taken aback—as for why he wasn't just terrified, it was mainly because the Joker's words were indeed not exaggerated.
Ian's father was indeed frequently on the verge of being beaten to death.
Being overly alarmed would make Ian seem hypocritical, while being moderately alarmed would be more in line with his genuine filial piety.
"Bang!"
Ian smashed through the alloy door in an instant, still somewhat anxious. Standing outside wasn't some Joker with a loudspeaker, but a man in a suit wearing a hood covered in colorful stockings.
Layers of stockings—red, green, purple, yellow—formed a twisted, colorful pyramid, almost completely obscuring his face. Through the few gaps, a pair of eyes gleamed with excitement.
He really is Joker.
Those stockings were layered, at least a dozen layers deep, each layer adorned with exaggerated Joker makeup. Heaven knows how many figures the Joker spends on foundation alone each month.
In Gotham, besides Batman, there's really no one who can afford to support the Joker.
Surprise
e-!
Just as Ian opened the door, the Joker anticipated the explosion and dodged the metal blast. He sidestepped and then slapped Ian's face hard with his hands, which he had prepared beforehand.
The powder exploded between the two men.
A system notification sounded in Ian's ear.
[Inhaling a mysterious toxic powder, Savage Tyrant experience points +339]
[Inhaling a mysterious toxic powder, Savage Tyrant experience points +321]
[Inhaling a mysterious toxic powder, Savage Tyrant experience points +322]
The Joker, who rarely showed any kindness towards humans, was planning to scare Ian before inhaling the nitrous oxide powder back into his nostrils. However, he discovered that his nose wasn't as good as Ian's.
Ian's nose is like a water pump; if the Joker didn't have to rush to breathe through his nose, Joker would feel like all the polluted air he inhaled was being stolen away by Ian.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh~"
There really was a wind blowing into Ian's nose, mouth, and even his ears and eyes— Lord Ian's specialty was using all seven orifices.
It's not strange at all.
After all, if blood can flow from all seven orifices, it naturally means that air can be inhaled, which is actually very scientific.
" Batman is nothing compared to you, the uncrowned king of Gotham's chemistry world!" Ian even used a title of respect. He didn't know how advanced the Joker's petty technology was, but he respected this technology, which was even more valuable than super-enhancing drugs. Gotham's true pharmaceutical master was indeed the Joker, the God of Medicine!
"Ah?"
Seeing Joker Ian's expression didn't seem to indicate infection, and that Ian not only didn't collapse but even showed surprise, the clown was slightly taken aback, even with his cultivation level.
"Damn it! I knew the Ian Virus was more virulent!" He pounded his head in frustration and lingering fear.
Seeing Ian staring at his face, he smoothly switched between emotions again.
"Want... want to touch my **? I mean, this one around my neck, the twelve-layered surprise headgear I specially prepared for today, to make it look like a turtle's head."
The Joker must have paid attention to Stocking Superman before, knowing that Ian has a special fondness for stockings, but the ridiculously thick foundation on his head made Ian somewhat reluctant to do it.
Lord Ian only likes all-natural stockings.
"Um, next time for sure, next time for sure, first tell me where my dad is?" Ian is someone who can clearly separate work and life.
He wouldn't let meeting his fans affect his family's happiness.
" Superman, yes, Superman."
The Joker's green eyes darted around.
"Actually, I'm really looking forward to seeing the Death of Superman —without his family, you'll definitely focus on writing, right?" He licked his lips, which were painted with a smiley face, and asked with a "reasonable" tone.
Even though the Joker thinks he's trying his best to imitate the thinking of ordinary, mundane people.
However.
This reasoning, however, still doesn't quite align with the values of Family Man.
Thump!
Ian's knee struck the Joker squarely in the groin.
"Awooooo--"
The Joker instantly curled up like a shrimp, his face beneath the hood turning purplish-red, his eyes rolling back, cold sweat pouring down his face, his hands clutching his genitals, his voice distorted and confused.
"This is unscientific! How can it feel so bad?! I didn't even feel this bad when I hit myself with a hammer! This isn't just pain—it's awful! It feels like my soul has been defiled!"
The Joker started rolling around on the ground.
I desperately need an answer.
He wasn't just being coquettish; he was genuinely in pain.
"Because I know pain can't threaten you, I temporarily mutated you, adding some Happy Nervous System to your testicles. Now you can experience the satisfaction of being in love just by peeing, and the warmth of three generations living together just by pooping—unless you tell me where my dad is."
"I can even make your breath smell of justice, so you'll be a righteous Joker, unable to resist helping old ladies cross the street and urinating old men every day."
As he spoke, Ian took out the note he had just written.
The text contains his modifications to reality after he " Pen Draws the World." Although Ian's writing skills are not strong enough, he can only temporarily modify reality for now. However, this ability is extremely effective on the Joker, Joker, after all, just an ordinary person, even though he is a very important figure in the DC Universe.
Who isn't of paramount importance?
The cost of affecting the Joker is far less than the cost of affecting a powerful life form.
"Oh, Ian, who should be locked up in the Little Black, you've already learned how to poison each other at such a young age, you have a bright future!" The Joker squeezed his legs together and did a somersault on the ground.
"This matter can't be left unresolved without an extra chapter! I will not yield to a junior like you!" The Joker always spoke with a dramatic, exaggerated tone.
His emotional manipulation was excessively exaggerated.
"Then I'll add ten more chapters. Stop talking nonsense. If my dad dies, I'll turn evil and become a villain in Gotham, and I'll eliminate you!" Ian keenly sensed the Ian Virus that the other party had mentioned earlier.
This threat might not be very damaging to the Joker, but it was certainly not insignificant either. Ian stared directly at him. "Tell me, why can't I find my father on Earth?"
While talking to the Joker, Ian was also using his basic skills to multitask, scanning every area of the Earth with the Black Box.
However.
Nothing was gained.
His Black Box even detected old guys that were hard to hide, ancient guardians and Old Gods, and even power fluctuations such as the Crimson of All Beings.
Unfortunately, there was no response from Superman's life force.
Ian was getting really anxious.
His words caused the Joker to clutch his head in despair.
"Oh, damn it, the most effective way to deal with me is to surpass my teacher, to make me forgotten, to sweep me into the dust? You're not just vicious, you're ruthless!"
He suddenly pointed to the sky, as if accepting his loss, "Alright, alright! Your dad's on Mars! Playing a game of 'who's the real man' with some dark version of himself~"
As he spoke, the Joker commented that Ian's father didn't seem like a real man at the moment. Ian felt like he was spitting out poop, but eager to save his father, he decided to come back later to sew the Joker's mouth back on.
After getting some information Barry the Joker, Ian smashed through the dome of the Batcave without saying a word. Debris rained down as his figure broke through the dome and became a streak of light shooting straight into the sky!
" Ian, who should be locked up in the underground Little Black, definitely still has some manuscripts left. Spit them out, spit them out."
The Joker crawled to the cave entrance on his knees.
Looking up at the figure disappearing into the starry sky, he shouted hoarsely, "Hey! Aren't you going to rent a mount?! The latest mount I captured in the wild has twelve wings! It flies faster than light!"
Watching the point of light vanish in an instant, he angrily picked up a piece of gravel and threw it away.
"Damn it! I can't fool you!" Just then, the Joker suddenly seemed to remember something and quickly pulled out his phone to send a voice message: " Harley! Go and shoot down the Gotham Gazette for me."
"Tomorrow's front page headline! It must read—'Shocking! Son of Superman, with the help of the great Joker, saves his useless father and the even more useless Batman accessory!'"
"Make the fluorescent font bold!"
This was something that offered the Joker some solace. Crouching in the ruins of the Batcave, humming a bootleg Gotham tune, he pulled out a gold-plated, diamond-encrusted shovel and began digging.
[Digging and digging in Gotham's garden~]
[Sow the seeds of madness, and chaos will bloom.]
[Water it with the most toxic fertilizer]
Who's the madman? You? Me? Or him?
This is certainly not the Joker's original song, but Ian's. Batman wouldn't dare install surveillance doesn't mean the Joker wouldn't. He set up many drones outside Ian's Demon Manor.
When Ian was digging up Living Dead to create a perfect body for Dr. Hannibal, the Joker was amazed by Ian's songwriting talent.
now.
He also adapted Ian Smith's song to add some fun to his work. He dug and laughed, dirt flying everywhere, seemingly searching for something in this forgotten corner. Finally, in an inconspicuous spot...
His shovel struck the ground it had been on before.
soon.
He dug through the rubble, Joker carefully brushed aside the surrounding clods of earth, revealing the yellowed note.
"I knew there were short stories in there!"
Yes, that's what motivates the Joker to work. He picks up the note with his fingers, which are gloved with purple lace, and his green eyes tremble with excitement in the dim light.
The note was covered with dense writing, Ian couldn't contain his creative talent.
[In a gloomy corner of Gotham City, only the Joker's maniacal laughter and chaotic declarations once echoed.]
[But ever since she met Ian, that boy with a gentle smile and a determined light hidden in his eyes, everything has quietly changed.]
At first, the Joker Beast just laughed at Ian's "naiveté"—fighting evil with happiness? How ridiculous!
The Joker Beast at this.
When Ian first met him, the Joker was already terminally ill.
[All they know is destruction and screaming.]
[However, everything changed the moment he met Ian. Bathed in Ian's glory, Joker Beast Joker Beast broke through the limitation of being a Perfect-level Gotham Baby and could not evolve further. It evolved silently, and in the swirling, unseen data currents, it became an Ultimate-level Digimon.]
[[This part is crossed out; the Gotham Baby" have been rewritten in large letters.]]
[Without even needing an evolution device, the Joker, one of Gotham's two kings, received this blessing! Under Ian's influence, the Joker unknowingly evolved Happy Nervous System on the spot, becoming a... a... a... well, a lump of happy Joker Beast!]
That's all there is to the story.
The following text makes Joker Joker seem a bit unhappy.
The text not only describes the amazing transformation of the Happy Nervous System, but also mentions a special gift—[Ultimate, Invincible, Super Concentrated Limited Edition Joker Laughing Gas].
According to the note, the nitrous oxide was Joker had specially prepared for Ian on Christmas Day, on a whim.
Its production process is extremely complex, requiring the collection of the purest poison gas from deep underground in Gotham City, and its refinement through a series of mysterious and ancient alchemical steps.
Legend has it that just one drop of this laughing gas can plunge the entire city's inhabitants into uncontrollable laughter until they exhaust their last ounce of strength. It is not only highly contagious but also has a long-lasting effect; once released, it spreads like a plague, penetrating everywhere.
Even more extravagantly, to ensure the gift's uniqueness, the Joker specially added pollen from a strange flower that blooms only on the highest peak in Gotham on the night of the winter solstice each year as a catalyst.
"A mad quantum collected from the tenth dimension!"
"It's a fusion of the Comedian's last words, Batman's nightmares, and Lex Luthor's jealousy! ( Luthor secretly hid Batman in a lab further down there; you discovered this yourself.)"
"Eight million 'Haha Factor' are contained in every cubic centimeter!"
"It's in Antimatter Crystal Bottle!"
"Even Darkseid would tap dance if he smelled it!"
To be honest, after reading Ian's descriptions, the Joker was a bit questioning his own existence. He didn't think laughing gas was made like that, nor did he think he could make such laughing gas.
This is not Ian's story.
This is Ian's wish.
Speaking of Gotham Joker, very few people can make him speechless. He first crumpled the note into a ball, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, then, finding the taste off, spat it out, flattened it in his palm, and finally carefully stuffed it into the breast pocket of his purple suit, patting it to make sure it wouldn't fall out.
No one could explain what the Joker was thinking during those two short actions. He then continued digging through the ruins outside the Batcave, wielding his half-gilded, drill-riddled shovel. Finally, he broke through the buried entrance to the Batcave and crawled inside like a Joker emerging from its burrow.
Ah, Sweet Home!
The Joker looked around and spoke shyly.
The Batcave remained cold and damp, filled with Bruce Wayne's quirky aesthetic of "I'm rich but I like living in basements." The control panel screen still flashed a paper cutout of Injustice Superman, looping the phrase "Did you miss me?"
The Joker ignored him.
He walked straight to the locker, pulled out buckets of colored paint, and acted as if he were at home. The Joker grinned, prepared various spray paints and pigments, and began to frantically graffiti on the walls, floors, and even Batman's bed and blankets.
His theme was very clear.
This is an 18+ fanfiction of " The Tragic and Beautiful Love of Batman "—" Batman, Thrust Me Ten Thousand More Times," a 98+ fan comic full of artistic flair.
It's not advisable to look at anything that might offend your eyes before you're actually lying in your coffin.
"Hehehe!" He the Batman Who Laughs, wielding his brush like rain, his strokes creating a whirlwind. The poses of Batman and himself became increasingly outrageous, and the plot grew more and more indescribable.
Batman's cape was torn into the Joker's suspenders, his belt slacked, his muscles contorted in a servile manner. The Joker's drawing was masterful and incredibly realistic, with many Robin watching from the sidelines. His laughter echoed through the cave, still manic, but now tinged with a sense of triumphant satisfaction.
Just then, a slight noise came from the cave entrance. It was the familiar footsteps that the Joker could recognize without turning around—light, quick footsteps with the crisp sound of high heels clicking on the ground as he jumped.
"Is the newspaper thing settled?" the Joker asked without turning around. "Of course it's settled. I only took ten minutes. Now, it's yours." Harley Quinn climbed in, wearing her signature red and blue Joker costume.
This female Joker wields two pistols, her eyes carrying a hint of amusement.
"Very good."
The Joker still didn't turn around.
He continued drawing "bondage play" scenes on the Batman suit collection cabinet.
"Huh? Where's that boy?" Harley Quinn first admired the artwork covering the wall, then looked around.
I'm looking for the author who's recently captivated the Joker.
Of course, she couldn't find Ian.
She and the Joker were the only ones in the entire Batcave.
"Oh, Ian Kent, he went to rescue his crying old man," the Joker replied casually, his spray paint still flying.
They're adding 108 shiny abs to Batman in the comics.
Clearly, the Joker, being a number one fan, has updated the Bat Family image to the latest version, namely the fully muscular version that Thomas Wayne had in Ian's movie.
"You actually let him go save Superman?" Harley blinked, somewhat surprised. "I thought you were here to enjoy his suffering and lead him into darkness."
Upon hearing this...
The Joker's spray paint suddenly stopped.
"You mean 'get out of the darkness,' right?" he said softly, almost to himself. "I'm sorry—I'm a little powerless. I feel—he just wants to stay in the darkness."
Harley was completely stunned. This wasn't the Joker she knew. The Chaos King who took pleasure in destroying hope and glorified leading others to ruin was now showing hesitation?
She stared at him, trying to find the familiar madness, the twisted emotion, or even that chilling pleasure in his expression, but the Joker was calm to the point of being unfamiliar.
"Puddin," Harley Quinn hesitated for a moment, but couldn't help asking the question that had been bothering her. She felt that the Joker now seemed different from the Joker she knew.
What's wrong with you?!
This is an expression of concern.
The artist, Joker, did not answer immediately. Instead, he put down the spray paint can and tapped his chin lightly with his paint-covered fingers, as if pondering a philosophical question.
" Harley," he spoke suddenly, his voice low and calm, "What style do you think I am?"
Harley was stumped.
She hesitated, trying to answer based on the public's perception of the Joker.
"What—madness? Chaos? Enjoying watching others break down? Creating art from pain?" She counted on her fingers, "Like—driving good people insane, corrupting heroes, making the world like you—happy? First give him hope, then crush it with your own hands, make him understand that the world has no meaning, and then he will completely belong to you."
Harley Quinn hesitated for a moment before saying those words, but she spoke sincerely, revealing her understanding of the Joker, which was indeed quite insightful.
certainly.
It's only a few points.
Harley Quinn, as one of the Joker's most outstanding creations, is still someone whose understanding of the Joker can only be achieved through conjecture. The Joker listens and watches quietly, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, but his eyes grow increasingly deep and unfathomable.
"Interesting."
He spoke softly, then picked up his paintbrush, dipped it in paint, and slowly walked towards Harley.
Harley didn't flinch, she just looked at him curiously.
The Joker stood before her, gently applying paint to her cheeks, altering her original Joker makeup. His movements were light, as if he were completing a delicate painting.
"That won't happen, Harley," he whispered, his voice unusually gentle, as he lightly brushed paint onto Harley's pale cheek, transforming Harley into a more Joker- like, gaping grin that pleased him even more. "You're very talented—but that's all."
Harley was delighted.
"You won't believe it, Batman won't believe it, nobody will believe it," the Joker continued, her paintbrush lightly tracing lines at the corner of her eye, "but I can see—"
His face drew closer and closer, his breath brushing against Harley's face.
Harley's heart suddenly raced, and she asked in a low voice.
"What did you see?"
Harley's heart raced, thinking he was going to kiss her—but the Joker's lips didn't fall. He simply whispered in her ear...
He spoke softly, almost inaudibly.
"I've seen the reality that the Ian Virus is real." He uttered those words in a voice barely above a whisper.
That word that Harley Quinn has been repeatedly hearing from the Joker lately.
Ian Virus.
Harley's pupils suddenly contracted.
original.
Harley Quinn had always thought it was just the Joker's banter, but hearing the Joker's voice as if he was afraid someone would hear, she instinctively wanted to ask more questions.
only.
The Joker's hand touched the woman's lips first.
Hehehehe~
The Joker had no intention or desire to explain. He took a step back, his maniacal smile returning to his face, as if the whispers from before had never happened.
They started graffitiing on the walls again.
In the vast universe.
Ian Kent broke through the atmosphere.
He reached out, and two dark, Bio-Armor immediately appeared. Ian's legs were bound with Speed Force External Legs, and red arcs of electricity crackled in the vacuum.
That was a gift he had obtained through his own efforts from Barry Allen's Speed Force Wife, and now he had forcibly bound it to the Mimicry Armor, turning it once again into a speed booster.
"Start up!"
In the next instant, he transformed into a faster-than-light meteor that pierced through the galaxy, space distorted in front of him, time stretched behind him, and stardust exploded like fireworks.
His figure was like a streak of light tearing through the galaxy, leaving a long trail of energy behind him. He was as fast as the Flash, and the Asteroid Belt he passed through were pulverized by the shockwave.
"Dad, please don't die! If you die, I don't dare go to Heaven to rescue you for the time being. I'll have to take Mom and remarry Uncle Clark from a parallel universe."
"I cannot protect my father's love, but I can protect my mother's devotion, so that I will not betray my reputation as a filial son."
Ian muttered to himself, not because he was a truly filial son, but because he believed that if his murmurs were heard by his father, they would ignite his father's boundless fighting spirit.
Even if things don't go well, he can definitely hold on a little longer. The universe is pitch black, stars like dust, and Ian's target— Mars.
It had now transformed into a dark red disc in our field of vision.
The rust-red surface of Mars is already clearly visible, but as it approaches Mars orbit, a sudden change occurs. Deep in the starry sky, countless points of light emerge.
Those weren't alien fireflies, but rather familiar figures to Ian.
Clone Superman.
Thousands upon thousands, like a swarm of locusts covering the sky. They wore identical black battle suits, their eyes were empty and lifeless, their faces stiff, devoid of soul, only cold commands.
Destroy the Justice League members who came to the rescue.
"Go back! Await the outcome of the sacred duel!"
It was the voice of Injustice Superman, even less human than when they last met. His words echoed in Ian's ears, and all the Clone Superman gathered around Ian.
These clones floated in the cosmos, their muscles perfectly sculpted like those of mass-produced killing machines. The incomplete "S" mark on their chests resembled scars from violent rigging.
"Get the hell out of here, you idiots, technology and ruthless work!"
Ian did not slow down; instead, he accelerated and charged into the army of clones.
In an instant.
He ignited his own blood.
Its entire body was engulfed in pitch-black flames.
[ World-Burning Pulse: For every 1% of your blood ignited, your attacks deal Annihilation damage equal to your maximum health. When stacked to 100 layers, you can choose to unleash " Final Blast ".]
Deals damage equal to 200% of your lost health to all enemies within range—your burning blood is the abyss of all things, the prelude to your Eternity doomsday.
Flames Annihilation damage ignited from Ian's fist, with iridescent black energy ripples spreading outwards.
The moment the most recent clone raised its arm, Ian's fist pierced its skull—the instant the first drop of blood boiled in its veins, Ian's fist had already pierced the skull of the most recent clone.
The power was indeed immense; what flowed between the fingers was not blood, but pitch-black Annihilation fire. The brains of the Krypton replica were burned to nothingness before they could even splatter.
It wasn't shattering, but Annihilation. The head, along with the part above the neck, instantly vanished into nothingness, as if it had never existed. A black " Annihilation Mark " appeared on Ian's back. Beneath his skin, black veins spread like living snakes, and with each heartbeat, a wisp of Annihilation power was pumped out.
"Bang!"
The second clone had sunken temples and black flames emanating from a crack in its skull.
[ Annihilation Layers +1]
Ian's figure vanished into a blood-red afterimage amidst the frenzy of Clone Superman.
Each punch aimed precisely at the top of the head.
The third clone attempted to intercept him with his Heat Vision, but was punched into the eye socket—as the eyeball exploded inside the skull, jet-black flames erupted from its seven orifices.
"Too slow! Worse than a degraded version of a superhero from the Zombie Universe!" He spun around and kicked the fourth clone's jaw, then grabbed the fifth's head and slammed it into his knee.
"Even with sheer numbers, they shouldn't be able to defeat my old man!"
One after another.
With each punch, a clone vanished completely, and the black mark on Ian's back was reinforced.
His fists were no longer flesh and blood, but two Annihilation hammers. Each swing tore through space, leaving black cracks.
The clones fell like straws, yet one after another followed, fearless and undaunted.
Each time Ian kills a clone, the [ World-Burning Pulse ] stack increases by one.
[ Annihilation stacks +17]
Tens of thousands of clones rose from the Mars surface, their black cloaks forming a curtain that blotted out the sky. The black flames ignited by Ian's fists left scorch marks in the vacuum of space.
His blood was burning, his life was slipping away, but for every 1% of his life lost, his attacks gained an additional layer of Annihilation power, and the Berserker's [ Blood-Reversal Furnace ] power was also being triggered.
The weaker one is.
The more powerful.
This is definitely not as simple as 1+1=2.
Cracks began to appear on Ian's body, and black energy seeped out from the cracks in his skin, but he didn't care. Pain? That was just the temperature of the fuel.
Their strength and momentum are both rising explosively.
A clone attacked him from behind, punching him in the spine.
[ Berserker XP +13]
Ian's spine was attacked, triggering an upgrade mechanism, but unfortunately it didn't shatter, so he didn't gain much experience. However, with the help of his self-healing ability, he regained his mobility in the blink of an eye.
[ Wrath of the Undead: When you take any form of damage, you regenerate 1% of your maximum health per second, healing all injuries including fatal ones.]
The more severe the injury, the faster the recovery. When your health drops below 10%, you will receive an instant healing buff, a rebirth that will last until all your energy is depleted.
Death? That has always been a luxury for you.
None of these were instantly fatal injuries, and Ian didn't need to worry about them at all. He didn't even trigger the instantaneous repair of his phoenix rebirth, and continued to break through towards Mars.
Without turning his head, Ian grabbed the other's head and twisted it sharply—the clone's head, which had been attacked in the spine but was now trying to attack the kidneys, turned to ash and scattered instantly.
"Gasp!"
When the ninety-ninth head was crushed in his palm, Ian's skin was covered with spiderweb-like black lines. His blood vessels throbbed violently beneath his skin, and each heartbeat caused the clones within a kilometer radius to tremble.
A clone attempted to ambush Ian with a Green Kryptonite weapon. Ian neither dodged nor evaded, letting the green light shatter on his chest. He then grabbed a handful of fragments and stuffed them into the attacker's mouth.
He is Krypton second-generation idealist.
It's reasonable that they've already "overcome" their fear and weakness towards Kryptonite.
[ Annihilation Layers +1]
Just as the final layer of Annihilation was being collected, Ian suddenly froze, and the prelude to the Eternity apocalypse began with fireworks.
In an instant, the 100 layers of Annihilation power accumulated within him, along with 99% of his burning blood, erupted completely! Centered on Ian,
A ring of black, pulsating ripples spread silently.
That wasn't an explosion.
Rather, it was an Annihilation eruption.
All the clones froze simultaneously, their empty eye sockets reflecting a horrifying scene—the blood-soaked figure slowly opening its arms and releasing an incredibly terrifying pulse.
"The End-"
My blood is boiling at this moment.
The instant his blood vessels burst, billions of black pulses surged from Ian's body. It wasn't light, but a tangible manifestation of "non-existence," an abyss that could be etched even into the vacuum.
"Explosion!!!"
A black torrent swept across the entire star field.
It spanned all the clones across a vast expanse of starry sky.
"Boom--!!!"
The entire orbit of Mars seemed to be held in place by an invisible giant hand, and ruthlessly crushed.
Sunlight and Starlight were being devoured, and the clone army melted away like an avalanche. The scene was as if the universe itself was being ignited and burned to ashes by Ian's blood.
A torrent swept across the sea of stars.
When the black tide receded, the starry sky was as clean as a pencil drawing erased by an eraser.
The few remaining clones hovered at a safe distance, their biological instincts screaming alarm bells—only to see Ian reassemble his body from nothingness, his burning pupils locking onto his final target.
"Now."
Black ripples spread out beneath his feet.
"The trash has been cleaned up."
Ian swooped down toward Mars. The remaining clones, unafraid of death, tried to stop him, but Ian pulled out the Gungnir and pierced them into living kebabs.
"These cheap knock-offs are only good for fighting Wonder Woman. So, is Injustice Superman leading them back to try and take my father's place again?"
"Did this guy go to another universe to level up and come back to fight another boss? And he succeeded right away?" Ian, filled with worry, swooped down into the Mars atmosphere.
His right fist, brimming with the residual power of the World-Burning Pulse, suddenly crashed into an invisible barrier just as he was about to break through.
"Boom!"
Golden and black energy ripples exploded in the void, and he was sent flying backward like a baseball hit by a bat, crashing through the remains of more than a dozen floating clones before barely managing to regain his footing.
What the hell is that?
Ian shook his numb arm, his gaze scanning the entire planet. The visual feedback made his pupils shrink sharply— Mars was surrounded by layers of something resembling chains.
It's like magic.
There are also some differences.
Those invisible and intangible chains pulsated like blood vessels, and with each contraction they caused a subtle shrinkage in space, as if the entire Mars were locked up, preventing any life from entering.
"Damn it! What the hell is this?!"
Ian tried three more times.
All attempts failed.
Even the assassin [ Pen Draws the World ] struggled to put pen to paper—this was a sign of insufficient skill, making it impossible to alter reality, even with the amplification of Magic Book.
Just as Ian was covered in sweat...
"It's meaningless."
The voice of Injustice Superman suddenly rang out. The voice sounded like a combination of more than a dozen vocal tones, possessing both Clark's mellow tone and a kind of inhuman electronic noise.
In addition, other unusual noises appeared on Phobos, Mars ' first moon. In the shadow of Phobos, a familiar metallic scraping sound suddenly came.
"Click-clack--"
That was the sound of the joints of the Hellbat Armor turning.
Ian certainly wouldn't be unfamiliar with the company that Ian helped create.
"Hmm? The battlefield is over there?"
Ian turned his head sharply, his gaze piercing through the dust, and met a pair of scarlet eyes.
Injustice Superman.
This corrupted version of himself floated silently on the surface of Phobos, his black cloak writhing like a living thing, his exposed skin covered in Magic Runes, each line shimmering with a faint light like the whispers of Evil God.
Beneath his boots—a figure was struggling.
"Hey, lift your foot? You're blocking my eye contact with my Uncle Batman." Ian floated closer and pointed to his feet, where the corrupted Superman was standing on one foot with Batman's head. The mask of the Hellbat Armor was mostly shattered, Bruce's chin was crushed into the rock by his boots, and his only intact left hand was still stubbornly digging at the Magic Runes on Injustice Superman's ankle.
Batman is unkempt.
Instead, he tried to shave Injustice Superman's legs with Nano Blade?
Ian thought he had probably been beaten so badly his brain was damaged.
Injustice Superman remained unmoved by Ian's request, while Batman, whose mouth was deformed from being stomped on, managed to squeeze out a few electronic sounds.
Don't worry about me!
"Go find your father! He's talking to..." Before Batman could finish speaking, Injustice Superman stepped on his mouth, and if Batman opened his mouth even slightly, he would lick the sole of Injustice Superman's shoe.
"Okay!"
Ian turned and flew away.
The roar of the Hellbat Armor overload came from behind.
"You fucking—at least hesitate for a second—" Bruce thought through gritted teeth as he continued trying to scrape off the runes on Injustice Superman's legs.
Yes.
It's not about shaving leg hair.
It's about scraping away those strange runes.
This is how Yi sees the misunderstanding of the human base.
"Leave."
Injustice Superman's words were concise and clear. Seeing Ian about to fly away, he immediately raised his head and released Heat Vision to intercept Ian, which was extremely powerful. Two Heat Vision, more intense than the Solar Core, pierced through the air, but their trajectories were as strange as venomous snakes controlled by an invisible hand, drawing tricky arcs in the air and heading straight for Ian's back!
"Holy crap?! Heat Vision tracking? Cornering assist? Adaptive cruise control? This 360-degree turn—damn it! Is there no science here?!" Ian braked suddenly in mid-air, tumbling sideways like a wolf, the rays grazing his cloak and burning two charred spacetime folds in the vacuum.
"You fucking cheated too! You cheater!"
Ian was furious.
Injustice Superman did not answer; the Magic Runes writhed beneath his skin, pumping more energy into his eyes as if they were alive. The next wave of Heat Vision split into dozens of beams.
Like a crimson net, it enveloped Ian!
"Is this never going to end?!"
Ian was completely enraged. The black flames of the World-Burning Pulse pulsated from his fist, shattering the oncoming ray net with a single punch. The undiminished force of the punch slammed into Injustice Superman's face, twisting his cold expression into a distorted shape.
"Bang!"
Two Superman- like objects crashed into the rock formations of Phobos like cannonballs. In the dust cloud stirred up by the shockwave, two figures could be seen fighting each other at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye.
"Destroy those runes on this person! Those are locks that suppress emotions!" Batman seized the opportunity to climb into the distance.
He ignored the whispers in his ear that praising Ian would save him.
He's a stubborn guy too.
Ian was about to take action.
Damn it!
The supposedly emotionless Injustice Superman suddenly developed some emotions.
And at that very moment...
The entire solar system seemed to freeze for a fraction of a second.
Next -
"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Mars exploded.
The crimson surface of Mars exploded without warning! An indescribable, terrifying energy erupted from the planet's core, causing the entire planet to shatter like glass, expand, and then explode one by one!
A nebula formed from dust and fire instantly swept across the entire orbit.
It seemed poised to affect the entire Galaxy.
In the heart of that Destruction.
Two golden figures appeared and disappeared, " Idealist Superman versus Idealist Superman!"
Ian's eyes were almost blinded by the light, but that didn't stop him from letting out a gasp.