Make Superman Feel Fear!

There had been no conversation in the office for a long time.

But Dr. Hannibal had observed every change in Ian's expression.

"You are deeply wary of me... but that is only natural. After all, today is our first meeting. It will take time to build trust between us."

"Let's leave it at that for today. I also need some time to properly study your condition." Dr. Hannibal spoke to the boy in the same calm tone.

"Is my condition that unusual?"

Ian could not help asking.

"No, it is merely excessive psychological stress. It does not count as any kind of mental illness, so do not burden yourself too much." Dr. Hannibal set down his notebook and fountain pen, then stood and straightened his clothes.

"I recommend that you try writing. Painting is also a good choice. Express the stories from your dreams; it will help reduce the impact those dreams have on you."

"Being troubled by nightmares is not necessarily a bad thing. It may help you become a great creator. I know that many timeless classics by famous writers came from dreams formed by the subconscious."

Dr. Hannibal finally offered a rather professional suggestion.

"Perhaps. I'll give it a try." Ian raised his brow. He had long considered becoming a literary plagiarist, but he had never found the right opportunity.

"Very good. I look forward to our next meeting."

Dr. Hannibal smiled warmly as he escorted Ian to the entrance. Outside, Ian's adoptive parents, Clark Kent and Lois Lane, had already been waiting for quite some time.

"Ian, how do you feel?" Lois had the capable air of a strong career woman, but when facing her family, she was nowhere near as forceful as she was at work.

"Not bad?"

Ian accepted his mother's embrace and looked past her at his father, Clark Kent. This man possessed the power of the God of Mankind, yet with glasses on, he did not look particularly imposing. Instead, he appeared rather refined. If he entered a gym, the seasoned regulars would probably mistake him for a complete beginner.

"You two should come into my office and have a talk." Watching the scene before him, Dr. Hannibal gave the two adults a meaningful look and pointed Ian toward the waiting area outside his office.

"It won't take long. Young Mr. Kent can go play with the little toys over there." Dr. Hannibal's suggestion made Ian roll his eyes internally—he was not really a child. He was already fourteen in this life; how could he possibly enjoy playing with building blocks?

How ridiculous!

Though that was what he thought, Ian still walked over. He turned back and saw Clark and Lois enter the office, after which Dr. Hannibal closed the door.

"Is there something wrong with Ian?" Seeing the doctor close the door, Clark revealed a somewhat worried expression. He had clearly realized that the situation might not be simple.

"The problem is serious."

Dr. Hannibal's response made Lois's heart leap into her throat.

"What kind of problem?"

She hurriedly pressed him.

Dr. Hannibal walked to the desk where he had left his notebook. "First, much of what he said proves that he believes there is a real world within his dreams."

"And he also believes that both his dreams and the world we live in are very dangerous..." The doctor was indeed professional, having picked up on the details in Ian's words.

"Perhaps it is because we are both reporters, and we often write about negative social news at home. Maybe that is why little Ian has become so uneasy?"

Hearing this, Lois could not help feeling guilty and remorseful. Clark gently put an arm around his wife and looked at Dr. Hannibal with concern in his eyes.

"If we pay closer attention and stop letting him come into contact with that kind of information, can his condition improve?" Clark's voice carried the distinctive magnetism of a mature man.

"That is something you must do, and it will indeed help somewhat. But it must still be combined with medication. He is already at the stage where persecutory delusions are developing into schizophrenia." Dr. Hannibal took out a prescription and swiftly wrote down several medicines he considered appropriate.

He had clearly noticed the boy's fear of him long ago.

"You can find a way to mix it into his food so he will take it, avoiding any resistance or unnecessary psychological burden." Dr. Hannibal handed over the completed prescription.

"All right. We'll follow your advice, Doctor."

Lois accepted the prescription and carefully placed it in her handbag. She exchanged a glance with her husband. Both concealed their worries and left with smiles to pick up Ian.

"Time to go home, little guy."

Clark patted Ian on the shoulder.

Ian, who had been building a Gundam out of blocks, hurriedly stood up and dusted off his backside.

"What did the doctor say?"

Ian began trying to probe for information.

"The doctor thinks you should not always keep your nerves wound tight while studying. Tonight, you need to do something unrelated to schoolwork." As a famous reporter, Lois's acting skills were excellent.

She adjusted Ian's collar for him.

"Yes, perhaps you can learn to repair cars with me, just like your two brothers." Clark also offered a suggestion as he led his wife and youngest son back onto the street.

Metropolis was bustling.

Tall buildings stood everywhere, and traffic flowed endlessly. But the people living here were somewhat impatient as well, perhaps because Metropolis was not far from the outstanding Gotham.

Beep beep beep!!

A large truck passed by, blaring its horn several times.

Ian's body immediately stiffened.

"What is it?"

Clark, who had been supporting Ian's back, noticed his reaction.

"Nothing. It just startled me." Even after fourteen years, Ian still had a stress reaction to large trucks. Naturally, that was because of how he had transmigrated.

Anyone with transmigration experience knew that the cause of their transmigration was always unforgettable. Ian still remembered the last thing he had heard before transmigrating: "I thought it was just a speed bump, Officer. My whole family is working hard to live. You can't impound my car. Please believe my insurance company!"

After experiencing something like that,

Ian had indeed been left with deep psychological trauma.

"Darling, you really need to find something to do besides studying." A trace of worry flashed through Lois's eyes. Neither she nor Clark could quite understand some of Ian's strange reactions.

"Mm-hmm, the doctor gave me some advice."

Ian's answer allowed the couple to relax a little.

Soon,

the three of them returned home.

It was not a particularly large house, but it was still a detached home with a small yard. Since it was still school hours, his two older brothers, Jonathan and Jordan, had not returned yet.

"I still have a report to finish, so I need to go back to the newspaper office. Can I leave dinner to you tonight?" As an ace reporter, Lois was very busy with work every day.

Compared to her, Clark had made some sacrifices in his career for the family.

"Of course."

Superman kissed his wife goodbye and tied on a cooking apron. He had planned to ask Ian what he wanted for dinner and whether he wanted to help make it.

However,

the moment he knocked and entered Ian's room, he saw Ian writing something.

"Didn't you promise us that you would not study so hard?" Clark frowned, and his voice took on a slightly stern tone.

"No, Dad, I'm not studying. I'm following the doctor's advice and doing some literary creation." Ian turned to look at Clark behind him.

He deliberately shifted aside, clearing the space in front of his desk.

"Oh?"

Curious, Clark leaned closer.

He had originally intended to offer a few words of praise, but when his gaze landed on Ian's so-called "literary work," the expression on his face immediately froze.

The Overbearing Superman Falls in Love With Me

What kind of damned title was that?!

"Next, I plan to write The Overbearing Batman Falls in Love With Me and The Overbearing Aquaman Falls in Love With Me too. I think my Overbearing Trilogy will definitely become a classic of the era and help me achieve financial freedom." Ian felt he had been quite cautious, choosing an opening that could, to some extent, avoid character copyright disputes.

"???"

Clark's face was full of question marks. He had never told any of his three children that he was Superman, so he should have been happy that his child liked Superman of his own accord. Yet when he saw Ian's title, his instincts told him this was definitely not a proper work.

"How about trying painting instead? Comics are developing quite well these days." With a strange expression and exaggerated facial features, Clark offered his suggestion.

"Uh..."

Ian thought about it.

"Sure!"

The boy eagerly spread out a sheet of drawing paper.

Unfortunately,

he had only written the title of the drawing. Before he could mix his paints or begin drawing, Clark immediately clapped a hand over the paper spread across the desk with trembling hands.

The old father's voice even carried a hint of terror.

"Forget it, forget it, Ian. I think you should stick to writing books to relieve stress."

Clark could not be blamed for changing his attitude twice in a row. Mainly because he truly did not want to know what The Overbearing Superman Has Me meant. It was even more stimulating to his super-heart than that The Overbearing Superman Falls in Love With Me from before.