Death! Reaper?

More than just stabbing himself twice.

Even stabbing his heart twice probably wouldn't be a problem!

What was this?

It was packed full of [Berserker] class experience! Ian regretted it a little—regretted not building a better relationship with Death Tessa. Otherwise, he would definitely shamelessly ask the Reaper for a long-term curse.

"Our relationship isn't that good, but I can still be shameless."

The glass automatic doors of Metropolis General Hospital reflected Ian's face, as unyielding as a wall of bronze and iron. He stared at his blurry reflection, unconsciously rubbing the pendant on his chest.

"Right, I still have the Reapers' boss watching over me... There'll be opportunities. There'll be opportunities. The DC Universe needs its own Deadpool! If the neighboring Marvel Universe has one, then our DC Universe should have one too!"

Ian found the moral high ground for himself. He was also somewhat amazed by the Reaper's authority. In the story of Supernatural, didn't Reapers seem capable of bringing people back from the dead?

Honestly.

That American TV show was really too old. Even with his excellent memory, he couldn't remember every detail clearly. Just as Ian felt that he should find a way to build himself a memory palace after going back—

"Make way!"

An urgent shout came from behind him. Ian sidestepped, and a gurney brushed past his shoulder. Its wheels screeched sharply against the tiles.

The man on the gurney was ashen-faced, with half a steel bar lodged in his chest. Blood dripped along its path, forming a broken red line—no matter what world it was, the working class suffered hardship and danger.

"All capitalists should be hung from streetlights. Me excluded. I'll definitely be a capitalist with a conscience in the future." Ian knew that even if he shed a few crocodile tears, they would do nothing for the dying man.

The only thing he could do was avoid getting in the medical staff's way.

Following the signs, Ian found the inpatient building—he first went to the restroom. More than ten minutes later, he finally emerged looking refreshed and delighted, then washed off the bright red stains from his blade.

Luckily, nobody saw him.

After Ian entered the inpatient building, the young nurse at the ward's registration desk was organizing medical records, her chestnut ponytail swaying gently with her movements.

Ian adjusted his breathing and put on a perfectly timed smile. "Hello, I'm a student from Brewster Public High School. I'm writing a report for the school about the Star Air Flight 143 crash."

"Not only is the public concerned about this, but we students are also worried about the victims. Could you tell me which ward the survivors have been assigned to?"

Ian maintained his politeness and deliberately altered his voice as he told a small lie. Of course, he wasn't a high school student, but that didn't stop him from impersonating one.

"Interviewing patients?"

Nurse Kate had initially looked up with a frown. However, upon seeing the exceptionally handsome boy standing before her, her fairly delicate face immediately underwent an operatic transformation.

"The Star Air patients? Students these days really are so caring." Perhaps she had wanted to refuse at first, but her attitude was now genuinely excellent.

The value of being good-looking continued to rise.

"Mm-hmm, that's right. I'm a campus reporter." Ian pulled a Psychic Card from the inner compartment of his wallet and waved it in front of the nurse, but she kept staring only at his face.

The tips of her ears had turned slightly red.

"..."

Ian was a little unwilling to let it go. If he had a magical item, he had to use it. So he held the card right up before the nurse's eyes, and she finally came under the card's influence.

In truth, card or no card, Ian probably wouldn't have faced any obstacles.

"Wow, you're actually the chief campus reporter. That's amazing." The facts proved that women knew how to provide emotional value too. She even thoughtfully stood up and came out from behind the nurses' station to point Ian in the right direction.

"It's in Zone B. Rooms 32 through 40 are all occupied by that group of patients." Nurse Kate stood very close, and Ian could feel her taking deep sniffs of the scent of his body wash.

"I can take you there."

The nurse's enthusiasm continued.

"..."

Ian hurriedly declined politely. He had really run into a female pervert today. Sure enough, no matter the country, nurses were the boldest group of women.

"Thank you so much! You're such a kind Angel!"

Ian maintained his manners even as he fled.

The nurse might be happy for the rest of the day because of it.

The smell of disinfectant was even stronger in Zone B's wards, mixed with the drifting scent of certain medicines. After searching around, Ian entered one of the rooms occupied by a survivor of the plane crash.

"Hello, I'm..."

As Ian spoke, he pulled out the Psychic Card again.

However.

"A reporter? No, a kid?"

The man lying closest to the door had a leg in a cast suspended in the air. He looked Ian up and down, then spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Whose family member are you?"

He had clearly misunderstood.

"No, no, no. I'm a campus reporter. The teachers and students at my school are all very concerned about this plane crash. I came on their behalf to learn about everyone's condition."

Ian began his role-playing. As the child of two reporters, he had a natural advantage when it came to playing a reporter. He really did look somewhat like a campus journalist.

No one doubted him.

Still, just as some people liked showing off their iPhones while others flaunted luxury cars and watches, Ian displayed the magical card he had "picked up" to every survivor he questioned.

He did gather quite a bit of information, but most of it was useless.

For example, the flight attendant in Bed 20 said Superman's arms had felt as dependable as steel when he caught her. Ian fully agreed, since he had experienced Superman's solid embrace ever since childhood.

The businessman in Bed 19 insisted that he had seen the plane shot down by a green laser and complained that official investigators didn't believe him. His words did give Ian some information.

The elderly woman in Bed 17 mysteriously claimed that Superman smelled rotten. Given her Gypsy identity, Ian couldn't help spending a few more minutes on her.

However.

Other than responses like, "You carry misfortune," "Very, very great misfortune," and "I can give you a discount," Ian gained no other useful information from the elderly Gypsy woman. Afraid that she would next claim he was about to grow red fur, he hurriedly ended the conversation.

It wasn't until the man with the suspended leg watched Ian question many people and take notes that he finally spoke to him in that hoarse voice.

"Superman smelled like chemical waste from a sewage treatment plant. I worked at one for twenty years. There's no way I could mistake that awful smell."

This was definitely the most useful information Ian had gotten from all his questioning. The vending machine at the corner of the corridor hummed as Ian bought a city map and began figuring out how many sewage treatment plants there were near Metropolis.

Just then.

"The patient in Bed 43 is crashing!"

Medical staff rushed past, pushing a defibrillator.

Ian looked up.

He saw—

Inside the ward, doctors had begun resuscitating the patient. Beside the bed where the patient lay stood a woman whom it seemed no one else could see, gently watching the patient.

"Tessa!"

Although the woman had changed her skin—well, changed her outfit—Ian had exceptionally sharp eyes. Even from far away, he recognized her at a glance as Death Tessa, the Reaper who had brought him here.

He waved at her.

Smiley Boy wanted to repair their relationship.

However.

"Hm? A human? You can see me?"

Feeling his gaze, the female Reaper looked up and parted her lips slightly in astonishment. Her expression was confused, and her eyes held nothing but shock and deep puzzlement as she looked at Ian.

It was as though she did not know him at all.

[PS: An expert advised me to use a big move. These can stack. Accumulate 500 monthly votes, 500 follow-up reads, 2,000 recommendation votes, and 100 book reviews in the review section.

After the book goes premium, daily updates of over 20,000 words for an additional day.]