American comic book: My Father is Superman, am I just an NPC?

Chapter 197 Let me go and enlighten the darkness?
Madison and Jordan's behavior and the strange things that happened to them.

It's hard to say whether there are other driving forces behind this.

Sometimes, in the subtle and pervasive flow of life, many of our self-righteous ideas may actually be guided by some unseen force.

of course.

This likely excludes the origin story that Jordan is currently creating, or what he considers a masterpiece that could be considered the new Bible.
The urge to write furiously was a rare trait observed in Kent's second brother, who disliked studying.

[Act One: The Fallen Superhero]

[The superhero in stockings tragically died during a superhero operation against an apocalyptic crisis. His noble spirit moved Heaven, and he was elevated to become a "stocking angel."]

However, because he was born a "mortal superhero" and his battle suit was too avant-garde, he was ostracized and ridiculed by the traditional and conservative angelic group led by Michael. He was banished to the outermost part of Heaven to guard the area, where he was not valued at all and suffered all kinds of humiliation. A female angel even jumped out and said that he would only ever be a little angel.

For the sake of all living beings, and to better protect humanity, the angel in stockings endured all of this without complaint, suffering year after year in heaven.

[Act Two: The Magical Ring]

Just as the angel in stockings was losing all hope and spending his days weeping over the earth, the mysterious ring his mother had secretly placed in his coffin when he ascended to heaven suddenly burst forth with dazzling light!

A weak but wise old man's voice came from within.

"The kindest child on earth, don't panic... I am God. Many years ago, I was betrayed by that rebellious son Lucifer, and only a remnant of my soul remains hidden in this ring."

The old man's omniscient and omnipotent authority was taken away, but his vision and the "Seven-Day Intensive Method to God" remained. From then on, the stocking-clad angel began her path of revenge under the guidance of the old God's remnant soul.

[Act Three: Ten hours on the east bank, ten hours on the west bank!]

……

to be frank.

This is a plot that even a great writer like Ian Smith couldn't have written.

Jordan wrote with great passion.

Completely immersed in the grand narrative I had created, I felt like I was a modern-day Shakespeare, composing an epic saga of the divine realm with my keyboard!

He believed he had finally found the right way to contribute to his family and his brother!
"That's it, yes, that's it, the story comes alive on its own." Jordan wanted to polish the script to perfection and then anonymously release it on various online platforms.

They even considered funding a small workshop to film a low-budget web series.

As someone who has successfully entered the industry, become the actor who plays Homelander, and embarked on the Hollywood path, Jordan believes that he has already made some connections in this circle.

It's possible.

Everything is just right.

Meanwhile, at another school, Ian, walking down the corridor, suddenly shivered and sneezed repeatedly, wondering if someone was watching him.

"Ah!"

Another sneeze.

Ian rubbed his nose and went to the school cafeteria.

As the school's "invisible bully," wherever he goes, the surrounding students will subconsciously make way for him, so he can always find a seat quickly no matter when he arrives.

The cafeteria was now bustling with noise, the aromas of various foods mingling with the hormones of teenagers, creating a unique, noisy energy field.

Get your food.

Find a seat.

Ian also began to enjoy his meal alone.

He seemed to possess a silent force field, naturally creating a circle of empty space around the table where he sat, and no one dared to easily approach this school bully known for his "glorious deeds".

Of course, there are also stubborn people.

Ian was engrossed in his lunch, and secretly pulled out various things from his dimensional pocket that tasted like "garlic cloves" but were actually minerals.

[Entropy Annihilation Lord Experience Points +19]

[Entropy Annihilation Lord Experience Points +18]

[Entropy Annihilation Lord Experience Points +17]

Ian, immersed in his own world, seemed quite aloof.

However, his figure always attracts certain classmates.

"Ian is over there!"

Madison usually doesn't eat in the cafeteria at noon; she prefers to find some "elegant" food outside of school, which gives Emily a rare opportunity to be alone.

“I can definitely get Ian back!” Emily Parker took a deep breath, clutching the exquisite three-tiered lunchbox with a kitten pattern tightly in her arms, as if carrying some sacred mission. She mustered her courage, crossed the invisible “barrier,” and sat down opposite Ian.

The little girl's heart was pounding, and her face was flushed with shyness.

“I…Ian…” her voice was barely audible, her cheeks flushed, “Today…today my mother made a lot of her signature dishes, she…she asked me to bring some for you to try…”

Emily's eyes were expectant.

Ian didn't even look up.

"Hmm? Your mother? Could it be that your mother, like you, also wants to eat something good?" Only a true veteran could decipher the true meaning behind his question and surprise.

Although children in Europe and America are generally more mature, it would be too much to ask the 15-year-old Emily to understand Ian.

“My mom wants me to eat some really healthy, additive-free food.” Emily wasn’t deterred by this dismissive attitude; she carefully opened the first layer of the lunchbox.

A rich aroma immediately wafted out.

“Look, this is her specialty, roasted ribs. It’s made with a special sauce and slow-roasted for four hours…” Emily’s voice carried a hint of anticipation and pride.

Ian finally lifted his eyelids, glanced at the tempting-looking ribs, and twitched his nose: "But, I'm sorry, I think I'm allergic to soy sauce."

He's not the kind of naive boy who can be easily fooled by girls with food.

Emily's smile froze for a moment, but she quickly perked up and opened the second layer: "No...it's okay! Try this! Baked lobster with cheese! It's very fresh!"

The sycophant continued making recommendations.

“Huh, it seems like today is Tuesday. I usually have an allergic reaction to marine protein on Tuesdays.” Ian blinked, and his answer made Emily’s heart flutter even more.

Although she couldn't understand it, she still thought Ian was very unique.

"Then... how about a vegetable salad? It's very healthy!" Emily's fingers trembled slightly as she opened the third layer, which contained a colorful vegetable salad.

See this.

Ian's eyes widened immediately.

"Oh no, there's broccoli in this, and I'm really...really allergic to broccoli." This time, his refusal was much more obvious than before.

"??????" Emily was dumbfounded, staring at the last layer of the fragrant sandwich, her voice almost breaking with tears: "Could it be... that you're allergic to sandwiches?!"

She looked at Ian with her last hopeful gaze.

"Well... I am indeed allergic to this."

Ian finally put down his strange spoon, looked up, and nodded solemnly at Emily with an extremely serious gaze, as if stating a universal truth.

“Emily, I know you’re a good girl, but I’m just too fragile. I’m allergic to a lot of things and I’m destined to be an allergy sufferer.”

Ian subtly rejected Emily's advances. Emily's face instantly turned from red to white, then from white to pale. A mix of shame, anger, grievance, and disbelief welled up, instantly bringing tears to her eyes. She slammed her lunchbox shut with a loud "bang," glared at Ian, and her voice trembled with emotion.

"Ian! I hate you!"

Like a melancholic story from a romance drama, after finishing her sentence, she picked up her lunchbox and ran away without looking back, her back view filled with grief and indignation. According to the rules, she would hate Ian for at least one class period this time.

"Hey."

Ian watched Emily's figure disappear into the crowd in the cafeteria and sighed heavily. She couldn't understand why Emily couldn't like other American girls, and that her feelings for him would only last for a short time.

"If everyone were like that delinquent girl, that would be great." Having no other idea, Ian picked up his spoon again and continued enjoying his lunch, which looked unappetizing but was supposedly extremely nutritious.

The world is finally clean.

Ian also had time to do some research on his new career.

He poked at the "mineral gel" he had added to the food in the plate with his peculiar spoon, which was still slightly changing color.

Meanwhile, he also recalled the system interface that had been dormant for some time in his mind. Ever since it "devoured" Belial's dark essence, this system of unknown origin had unlocked a new job template that looked extremely sophisticated but was also extremely abstract, and it had been in an inactive gray state.

At this moment, the gray interface was floating in his sea of ​​consciousness, exuding a cold yet imaginative aura.

[Unactivated Class: Lord of Embers]

[Job Description: You once illuminated the galaxy and witnessed the end of the universe. Your existence is both the dawn of civilization and the twilight of the old world.]

Light should not be prayed for; it should only be harnessed. Unquenchable light and blazing ashes burn within you, indifferent to justice, good and evil, measuring the value of all things solely by the standard of light. O king of light and ashes, you will ultimately, in your utter destruction, reshape the eternal cosmic order!

[Job Change Quest (Not yet available)]

【Mission Name: Reversal of Light and Darkness - A New Chapter of Stealing Fire】

[Mission Requirements: You need to find the 'Primordial Dark Core' of the rebellious light in the deepest abyss. Do not use force or reason to subdue it, but guide its inner paradox with your true capacity to completely reverse its dark nature and reshape it into a torch of pure light, so that the 'Shadow of the End' can rekindle the 'Radiance of the Beginning'.]

You will thus ignite the beginning of a new era.

The quest icon is surrounded by patterns interwoven with dark gold and crimson.

Like the remnants of a burning star.

Ian took a bite of the cookie, and cream spilled from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't notice.

“The Darkest Abyss… the Primal Dark Core… reversing the nature of darkness… reshaping the torch of light…” he muttered to himself, his mind racing, trying to understand what this enigmatic mission was trying to get him to do.

He didn't know what this "Primordial Dark Core" specifically referred to; it could be the dark heart of a certain universe, or a corrupted artifact.

It could also be... some fallen dark god himself.

Think of this.

Ian's eyes widened.

"hiss……"

Ian gasped, feeling a sharp pain in his teeth. He stared at the task description, his brow furrowing deeper. The system never explained, only presented riddles. And this task sounded both grand and absurd—to reverse "darkness" itself into "light"?
It's neither about defeating darkness nor sealing it away.

Instead, was it about taming darkness, making it willingly transform into light? The darkness that immediately came to mind was, of course, Lucifer's aunt, the human embodiment of the Great Darkness. Was he to be forced to truly educate the Great Darkness, and then brutally mold it into the righteous path?

Even Ian's super brain isn't enough.

He felt the system was malfunctioning.

How can I, with my weak arms and legs, confront the great darkness?
"Isn't this task a bit too difficult? 'Not to be won by force, not to be convinced by reason,' yet you want me to use my 'capacity' to guide the reversal of darkness?"

"Damn it, everyone knows that Ian has no magnanimity, only limits." Ian glanced at his pants. Whether in terms of physique or personality, he has always been very self-aware.

Ok.

Two sets of self-awareness.

The system seemed to be encouraging him to confront Lucifer's aunt. Once this thought appeared, it was like a root that wouldn't go away from Ian's mind.

"No way, absolutely no way!"

Ian shook his head vigorously.

"The Dark Lady, though she's right below my manor, is an ancient woman from billions of years ago. This isn't like using a star destroyer to swat a mosquito; it's like asking me to extinguish a solar fire with a toy water gun." He looked at the lofty job description in his mind with a worried expression, suspecting that his system might have been hacked by the shameless Dark Lady.

The Dark Lady might be a strange aunt, just like Lady God.

The little boy suddenly felt that life was hard.

Ian sighed and temporarily closed the system interface. The job change quest was tempting, but it was clearly not something he could consider right now. His priority was to get through this rare day without anything major happening.

Ian cherished the days when everything was normal and there were no major events. However, he had only just started to eat a few bites when someone sat down in the seat opposite him.

“Emily…you haven’t hated me for long enough today.” Ian put down his spoon helplessly, looked up, and saw an unexpected face.

Sam Winchester.

The younger of the two Wen family duo, Lucifer's vessel, was wearing a hoodie that looked like it hadn't been washed in a long time, exuding an aura of travel weariness and lack of sleep.

He looked much more haggard than when we last met, with stubble on his chin, sunken eyes, and his usually melancholic eyes now filled with bloodshot veins and deep anxiety.

"Hmm?" Ian raised an eyebrow, clearly recognizing the uninvited guest, but he said nothing. He simply lowered his head again and began chewing his lunch with even more gusto, almost retaliatory urges, as if he wanted to chew up everyone who had disturbed his meal.

"Um...Ian? Are you there?"

Sam sat there with his hands on the table, asking questions that were utterly absurd. He was clearly distracted, and even his fingers were unconsciously twisting together.

The knuckles are turning white.

Can you give me some kind of response?

He leaned slightly forward, appearing restless.

His eyes kept glancing at Ian, then warily scanning the noisy surroundings. This sense of alienation and tension made him look like a trapped beast that had strayed into a flock of sheep.

"Baji~baji~"

Ian ate a little louder.

Sam paused for a moment.

He waited a full minute, and seeing that Ian showed no intention of asking any questions and was even eating with increasing relish, he finally couldn't hold back any longer. His long-suppressed worry and fear seemed to have found a breakthrough, and he broke the silence first with a hoarse voice, his tone even carrying a hint of barely perceptible pleading.

"Aren't you...aren't you even a little bit curious about why I came to see you? Why...are you so restless?" He took the initiative to start a conversation with Ian.

Upon hearing this, Ian finally stopped his exaggerated chewing motions. He slowly swallowed what was in his mouth and then picked up a tissue with an abstract pattern to wipe his mouth.

“Okay, why are you so restless?” Ian asked in an extremely programmed tone, like a customer service recording.

They took politeness to the extreme.

As if finally granted permission, Sam's speech quickened instantly, and he said urgently, "It was my dad John and my brother Dean. They went to Wyoming yesterday to track down the last lead on that yellow-eyed devil! And then...and then they completely lost contact!"

"All the commonly used channels, safe house markings, and even the most secretive emergency contact methods we agreed on... all of them are gone! It's like they've vanished into thin air!"

His voice trembled slightly with excitement, and his eyes were bloodshot: "Those aren't ordinary demons! Ian! You know that! I'm worried about them..."

Speaking of it.

Sam didn't dare say much more, afraid that he would burst into tears if he spoke. After all, he was just a fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy, and even with his resume of returning from heaven, he was somewhat at a loss.

"Ok?"

After listening, Ian nodded thoughtfully, a perfectly measured expression of regret on his face, and then uttered two words most often heard at funerals.

"Condolences."

His words were concise and clear, and his expression was sincere.

It wasn't that Ian lacked curiosity and a kind nature; the main reason was that he was well aware of the deep connection between the Wen brothers and God, and at least Sam's older brother, Dean, wasn't someone who would die easily. The Wen brothers were practically a magnet for trouble; their affairs were always intertwined with that old man God's flawed plans, the power struggles within the angels, and the rebellion in Hell.

Ian himself didn't want to continue having too much contact with people related to God—mainly because he was afraid that the Goddess of Light, who was God's wife, would sleep with him by following the "network cable" that God had placed on the Wen family's duo.

"No, Ian, they might not be dead! They're just missing! Missing, you understand?! We need to find them, alive or dead! Right now, there's nothing!"

Sam felt as if he had been doused with a bucket of ice water, and hurriedly tried to explain, seemingly unaware of the real reason why Ian had lost interest.

“Okay, I understand. There are too many uncertainties, so directly saying ‘please accept my condolences’ would be a bit arbitrary. How about… ‘let’s mourn as if we’re in mourning’? Let’s start with hypothetical mourning and then officially mourn once the body is found. Neither way is wrong, and we have a basis for both.” Ian readily agreed and immediately changed his tune, his tone even carrying an air of agreement that “you make a lot of sense.”

"?????"

Sam's expression instantly turned as if he had swallowed a whole lemon and it was stuck in his throat. He simply couldn't understand Ian's bizarre thought process and choice of words.

What the hell is "Ru Ai"?

Is this how we mourn?
Although he'd known Ian for a while, Sam was still clearly not used to it. He took several deep breaths to barely suppress the urge to cry.

“Ian! Listen to me! You need to help me! Have you forgotten the Colt pistol you took?? That’s my family’s heirloom weapon, capable of killing almost any supernatural creature! You haven’t repaid us for that yet!” Sam may not know much else, but he’s quite adept at inflating the value of items.

Even family heirlooms have come up.

Ian blinked, as if he had just remembered this. He stroked his chin, pretending to think, and then suddenly flashed an extremely professional, enthusiastic smile, like that of a roadside vendor.

"Alright, I have a full range of funeral services. You can choose any auspicious burial site, whether it's hell or heaven. We also offer customized reincarnation packages, with options for the rich second generation or the second generation of officials."

"Which way do you think I should give in return?" Ian was indeed capable of doing these things, but Sam clearly didn't quite understand Mr. Ian's abilities.

"??????" The muscles in the second-generation Witcher's face contorted and shrank at a visible speed, as if he had been punched hard.

He lowered his voice.

She managed to squeeze out a sob through her teeth.

"I don't want my dad and brother to die like this. Didn't you say you're the Angel King? You must know what happened to them." He looked at Ian with pleading eyes.

"There are differences between angel kings. I am just a... well... a rather unconventional, not very competent angel king who usually uses his position to do some side jobs."

"I really didn't know whether your father and brother were still alive or not." Ian sighed upon seeing this, his little face twisting in distress.

Sam felt like he had grasped at a last straw.

"I have a lead, please help me, I beg you." He knew Ian was very capable, and perhaps only Ian could help him, so he made a pleading gesture with his hands.

"As an angel king, I was preoccupied with saving the multiverse this morning, so it's really inconvenient for me to get involved in this kind of thing... If word got out, it would really feel like using a cannon to kill a mosquito."

Ian spoke hesitantly.

Sam Winchester, seeing Ian's unyielding attitude, felt his anxiety and despair almost overflowing. He knew that conventional requests and favors seemed utterly useless against this eccentric fellow. He gritted his teeth, as if making a firm decision, and suddenly grabbed the bulging, stained old backpack next to him.

"Ian! Wait!"

Sam's voice carried a desperate urgency. He suddenly turned his backpack upside down and forcefully shook it onto the cafeteria table!

Suddenly, a pile of magazines and books with provocative covers, sensational headlines, and varying printing quality scattered across almost half the table. Titles like "Guns and Angels," "Hot Hell," and "Devil's Night" bombarded the eye with their explosive titles and suggestive cover images of women (or men), and even included a few old-fashioned, yellowed books with more explicit covers.

The students who had been secretly watching them widened their eyes instantly, letting out suppressed gasps and snickers. The cafeteria lady almost dropped her soup ladle.

Sam's face flushed red, but he still forced a smile and pointed at the pile of "spiritual food" to Ian, saying, "These...these! These are all from my brother Dean's private collection! They're all rare and can't be found on the market! If you're willing to help me, these...these are all yours!"

Ian's gaze swept over the pile of "exquisite and unique" items, a clear look of disdain on his face. He shook his head and refused with righteous indignation.

“Mr. Sam Winchester! Have some self-respect! Do you think I, Ian Kent, am the kind of person who would indulge in such lowbrow pleasures and need these paper stimulants to stimulate dopamine release? My mind is as vast as the universe, and I have absolutely no interest in this kind of superficial art of the flesh!”

Ian glanced around.

He even elegantly adjusted a non-existent bow tie before adding, "However, I can introduce you to my second brother, Jordan. He seems to be quite interested in this kind of... uh... 'anthropological research data' lately, and he can take on your business."

Sam: "..."

He felt a throbbing sensation in his temples.

Seeing that this "honey trap" had failed.

Sam took a deep breath and unleashed his final trump card. He quickly stuffed the pile of magazines back into his bag, leaned forward, lowered his voice, and spoke with extreme seriousness.

“Ian! I know you’re particularly interested in things like starting a company, manufacturing, and making money! Our Winchester family has accumulated a wealth of valuable exorcism notes over generations! They contain detailed records of the weaknesses of various supernatural creatures, the details of various ancient exorcism rituals, and even some recipes and blueprints for homemade exorcism tools! From the optimal duration of the blessing of holy water to the choice of the particle size of salt bullets, to the rune carving techniques for dealing with demons of all levels... everything is included!”

He stared intently into Ian's eyes and offered the most tempting terms: "If these things were in your hands, with your 'wisdom' and 'business acumen,' you could absolutely establish an efficient, standardized, and low-cost production line for exorcism items! Just imagine, holy water would be as cheap as mineral water, salt bullets would be sold by weight, and rune daggers would support custom engraving... This would completely transform the entire exorcism industry!"

Sam also learned how to manipulate Ian and became a complimenter. Sure enough, his words were like precise magic, instantly striking Ian's weak spot!

Ian's previously indifferent and lazy expression vanished instantly, his eyes lighting up as if countless stars were twinkling within them. He even unconsciously sat up straight, his fingers tapping lightly on the table, as if mentally calculating just how great he could be.

He stroked his chin, his gaze drifting into the distance, muttering to himself, and even quoting a famous saying he'd heard somewhere.

"An era where everyone can afford exorcism tools? Interesting... Technology serves the people, no, magic, and exorcism also serve the people..."

Great, needless to say.

Ian seemed to see a vast, global supernatural products business empire rising up, and he was the "Lei Buss of the exorcism world" hiding behind the scenes and controlling everything!
A few seconds later, Ian snapped out of his daze, his face instantly switching to an expression of utmost sincerity and brotherly loyalty. He grabbed Sam's hand and shook it vigorously.

“Sam! My brother! My nineteenth best friend! You’re being too polite! Helping a friend is my duty! How could I, Ian Kent, stand idly by while your father and brother go missing? Don’t worry! Leave it to me! I’ll take care of this!”

“Even Jesus would have to stop me twice before he could stop me,” he said, patting his chest with a strong and resolute tone, as he casually put the magazines into his bag.

The movements were incredibly fluid, as if they had been rehearsed a thousand times in the mind.

(End of this chapter)