What's wrong with Superman's son wanting to be Superman?

Page 336

The elf reminded Franklin that magic could not destroy magic here.

"..."

Franklin was speechless. Seeing that the sun was about to unleash its thunder, he quickly had a flash of inspiration and began to praise, "Great Creator Ian! Your dimensional world is so exquisite! The art of piecing together your unique aesthetic! The diversity of languages ​​proves your wisdom of drawing on the best of everything!"

"Even those two legs that can run demonstrate your profound understanding of the multiverse!" So many years of wandering have also worn down Franklin's rebellious spirit.

He wasn't just saving himself.

It was still trying to save its own universe from being swallowed up. After a long, ten-minute monologue, the thunderclouds finally began to dissipate, and the sun's expression changed from anger to "barely satisfied." The sky finally returned to calm, the sun reverted to its comical grin, and its 108 hands retracted, even giving an "OK" sign before leaving.

"Whoo~"

Franklin wiped the sweat from his face with his little hands.

"As a newly born human race, you still need to figure out the Creator's preferences more. How about trying this? Chicken-flavored mushrooms are quite rare!"

"And that too—the red umbrella mushroom that smells like stewed meat! Only three gold coins." The elf enthusiastically promoted his find to Franklin.

"Three gold coins?"

Franklin's expression gradually shifted from shock to numbness. He saw that the other person had even opened a coconut and produced pork chop rice. It was hard to imagine what kind of bizarre world this was.

"Yes, gold coins are the currency used by all races. You need to pray to the Creator every day. You can get one gold coin by praying for half an hour, while fanatics can get two."

"The orcs have a lot of fanatics, and they're very rich," the elf said with a hint of envy. Her words silenced Franklin, who was full of conspiracy theories.

Can dimensional demons still extract faith in this way?

The Marvel creator felt he had stumbled upon a blind spot in his knowledge.

"Hey! You sucked us into your dimension, so you should come out and talk to me, right?!" Franklin looked up at the sky again, but he found that he could no longer sense the will of the dimensional demon.

The young evil god, who was also just a child, had indeed left. Ian had other things to do, and after sorting out his gains, he immediately sprang to his feet.

"No, you're only going to sleep for one minute this time?"

The Flash was so frightened that he stepped back.

The main problem was that Ian's sudden leap was too unexpected.

It hit the ceiling in one go.

“Although it was only for a minute, I’m different now. I’ve transitioned from infancy to adolescence, and I’m incredibly powerful.” Ian landed on the ground from the ceiling. Having received new dimensional data and unlocked many of the dimensional demons’ authority, he knew he had officially become a new dimensional demon.

“Now… no, my vocabulary isn’t that limited. I just used the word ‘now.’ I need to use ‘now now.’ Now I have a way to get into Uncle Bruce’s brain.” Ian’s tone was full of confidence, and his performance made the Flash’s pupils dilate slightly.

"How to get in?"

The Flash couldn't help but wonder if the boy in front of him was so strange that he could "evolve" any ability simply by lying on the ground and thinking about what ability he needed.

“Of course, we’ll use the most traditional method.” Ian looked at Bruce, and then a blurry and profound phantom began to appear, which was one of the most basic powers of the Dimensional Demon God.

[Dimensional Projection: Allows the projection of a portion of one's own dimension into the real world, automatically overriding dimensional rules within the projection area.] Almost all dimensional demons possess this ability. Ian summoned his own dimensional projection precisely because he intended to use it to perform what all dimensional demons do.

"Dimensional erosion!"

As he focused his mind, the phantom began to expand and extend, enveloping his body like a tide.

Immediately afterwards, Ian, enveloped by his own dimensional projection, transformed into a tide along with his physical body, surging into the universe contained within Batman's body.

"Is this the absurdity of idealism? Where is tradition?" The Flash stared in disbelief, and the next second, Ian's figure completely vanished from reality.

The dimensional demon launched an invasion and contamination against another dimension.

After Ian's successful intrusion.

Beneath his feet lay cracked, black earth, and the sky a sickly dark red. Dimensional phantoms swirled around him, like a flowing layer of black-gold light, slowly dispelling and reshaping the surrounding space. His presence was like a ray of light from a higher dimension, illuminating this dark and decaying world.

"Oh my god! Dad really couldn't resist attacking Batman! What is he doing!?"

Ian's gaze pierced through the desolate and ruined world, fixed on the edge of this shattered dimension, where he saw a strange space enveloped in golden light.

The story of a threesome is unfolding in this space.

However, Superman did not team up with Batman.

I saw.

Ian's pupils reflected a scene that was truly unexpected. In the golden space, Clark was working together with a man clad in golden armor.

"Don't move! Bruce! Don't struggle! Relax!" Clark and the armored man were scrambling to pin the frantically struggling Bruce Wayne down onto... a very flashy-looking golden toilet.

Chapter 153 The Emperor and Ian's Business!

In the desolate Warhammer universe.

Ian's dimensional projection flickered at the edge of the shattered universe, like an old television with a poor signal. He stared wide-eyed at the absurd scene unfolding at the edge of the broken world.

His father, who always wore his underwear on the outside when he was playing Superman, was working together with a giant in golden armor to press poor Uncle Batman into a golden chair.

"Even erotic chairs are nothing special! Is this the kind of content that minors can watch with their parents' supervision?" Ian stared wide-eyed, speechless.

Bruce's clothes were all torn to shreds.

Its body was covered with at least nine kilograms of mysterious slime, which, apart from its eerie color, looked exactly like the kind of slime that only appears in Japanese adult films.

Ian saw this situation.

I couldn't resist putting on sunglasses.

That way, he won't let his biased perspective lead him to overthink things.

"Where did I end up? In the Warhammer universe?" Ian looked around, confirming his surroundings. Blood-red storms raged in the sky, the earth cracked into endless abysses, and the air was thick with the stench of decay, madness, and despair. Of course, the most recognizable features were the armored man and his unwashed toilet.

This is no ordinary Batman consciousness space; it is a fragment of the Warhammer 40K universe, one of the core sources of extraterrestrial contamination. No wonder Batman has been acting strangely lately.

"Where's Slaanesh? Where's Nurgle? Where are Tzeentch and Khorne? They're practically my capitalist's four-piece suit!" Ian, using his dimensional projection, began searching everywhere.

He couldn't even imagine how wonderful it would be to lock Tzeentch's brain in a cage and have him develop a strategy game for him every day. Slaanesh is also crucial in contributing to the global decline in birth rates.

If you can add a bit of Khonor to the weapons and a bit of Nurgle to the bio-viruses—the Wayne Enterprises, the Stark Industries, Ian McKellen would be the most lucrative super arms dealer in the American comic book universe!

There are no truly terrifying evil gods in the world.

Only Lord Ian can control the evil god.

"Where are my lucky cats?" Ian, who had grand plans in mind, was filled with the desire to become a capitalist, but his gaze swept across all the broken universes and he still couldn't find the hidden warp god.

"roar--"

Bruce suddenly let out a roar that sounded inhuman.

His pupils split into five vertical pupils, each reflecting Khorne's blood axe, Tzeentch's grimoire, Nurgle's pustules, and Slaanesh's roses, as well as the fifth, the filth of chaos.

"Let me go! I'm perfectly fine! I'm going to kill you two lunatics!! I'm going to get Afu to sue you!! I'm going to lock you up in a mental hospital!!"

"Believe me! I can do it! I am Bruce Wayne! The richest man in the world! If I wanted to, I could even buy the whole of America!" Batman struggled, his eyes filled with chaos and pain, and he let out a low growl, as if some invisible force was eroding his soul.

His desires and tyranny were no longer under control.

"No, Bruce, you're not good at all!" Superman's projection of his soul also possessed unshakeable strength, and he firmly held down Batman, whose body was bursting with strange power.

"Don't get distracted, keep him under control."

The Emperor's voice was like a thousand overlapping harmonies. At that moment, the Emperor seemed to sense something, and slowly raised his head to look in Ian's direction.

Their eyes met.

Ian winked his right eye at him.

"..."

The Emperor did not respond. He looked at his throne and continued to whisper instructions to Superman. Superman increased his strength, and the Kryptonian muscles gleamed with a healthy glow in the shattered universe.

His unscientific biofield actually protected him from the contamination on Batman's body, which means that Ian's long-held aspirations are on the road to success.

“I will help him suppress the contamination.” As the Emperor infused the Golden Throne with psychic energy, the chaos in Batman’s eyes gradually faded, but the slime solidified into crystalline scars.

"What's wrong with me?"

Batman, who had been screaming incessantly, gradually calmed down. The chaos and darkness in his eyes slowly dissipated, replaced by a brief moment of clarity and bewilderment.

"Don't let him get up."

The emperor spoke in a low voice, his tone firm.

"clear."

Superman nodded, still firmly suppressing Batman. Meanwhile, Ian quietly approached the edge of this shattered universe, a ghostly blue dimensional phantom emerging behind him.

It seemed as if they were ready to strike at any moment.

"What's wrong with my Uncle Bruce? Did he get a stomachache and start mutating on the spot, and then you guys caught him red-handed?" Ian looked at Superman with one eye.

The other eye was looking at the emperor.

The Fiend was so adept at using one eye for multiple purposes that his gaze didn't need to move back and forth at all. He approached like a curious cat, hesitated for a moment, but still didn't try to swallow the slime on Batman's body.

Mr. Ian does not have pica.

He always had some foods he ate and some he didn't eat.

"Bruce went mad and tried to take down the evil gods of this universe, but he failed completely and was instead affected by the power of the four evil gods."

Superman was not surprised that Ian could enter this place like him. He looked at Ian, who was taking out a black box and filming Bruce, and responded in a deep voice.

"There are five."

The Emperor corrected Superman's statement.

Psionic flames formed a protective matrix around the throne.

Upon hearing this, Superman turned his head in surprise: "You included the Cthulhu contamination he brought in himself? I've already dealt with that contamination using special methods."

When talking about special methods, Superman glanced at Ian, being careful with his wording so that his youngest son wouldn't realize there were places where he could collect royalties from him and Batman.

"The erosion of the Destruction Realm has merged with his soul and cannot be eradicated. My psychic energy can only maintain a balance for about a hundred years. Until then, you must find a way to solve the problem."

The Emperor's golden armor creaked heavily as he pointed to the crystallizing scar on Bruce's chest, surprisingly believing that Batman might live to be a hundred.

With Superman and the Emperor offering their explanations, Ian gradually pieced things together. It was clear that Batman had messed up some fancy maneuvers.

"No wonder he's my Uncle Bruce, just like me, he likes to self-destruct at the drop of a hat. It's a pity he's not as lucky as me." Ian looked thoughtfully at the golden toilet under Batman's butt.

Of course, that was actually the throne of the Warhammer Emperor, which was part of the Emperor's life support system.