Chapter 10: Daily Life In Metropolis
Still that same phrase.
Anyone who has done preparation work for crossing into the DC Universe understands.
What the Bar of Light in Los Angeles means.
“Lucifer, huh…”
Ian swallowed and murmured softly.
“Huh?”
Madison’s ears seemed very sharp. “How do you know that man’s name… Yeah, it’s just that chuunibyou. Someone actually named himself Lucifer Morningstar.”
“This is just too ridiculous. It sounds like a washed-up rock singer. He’s totally wasting that handsome face. In this regard, you’re still way better than that damn bar boss.”
Madison’s sharp tongue was as reliably biting as ever.
Ian glanced sideways at Madison. This blonde girl was disdainfully critiquing the King of Hell’s taste, completely unaware of who she was judging.
“Little punk girl.”
He suddenly spoke up.
“Hm?”
Madison looked suspiciously at her deskmate.
“I hope you can be a good person in the future and go to Heaven.” Ian sincerely offered his blessing, but Madison just rolled her eyes and scoffed.
“I don’t believe in that Heaven and Hell nonsense anyway, and good people can’t make it in Hollywood.” That was Madison’s dream: to become a big Hollywood star.
Ian didn’t explain, just sighed lightly. At that moment, another whiff of perfume approached, smelling somewhat cheap, far inferior to Madison’s taste.
There, a girl with brown wavy hair was holding a necklace, happily walking toward Ian, her eyes filled with anticipation.
This was Emily.
The classmate who had fake-fallen in front of Ian more than ten times.
“Ian, you didn’t come to school yesterday. Were you sick?” Emily immediately greeted Ian, her face showing intense concern.
“Are you cursing me to get sick?”
Ian frowned slightly, his focus quite peculiar.
“…”
Emily’s expression froze, then she forced a smile and held up the necklace. “Okay, I said the wrong thing. Could you help me put on this necklace?”
“It’s a birthday gift my mother gave me this morning.” She drew out her tone, emphasizing “birthday gift.”
“My mother gives me birthday gifts on my birthday too.” Ian just gave Emily a clear-eyed look, then lowered his head to organize his textbook.
The conversation seemed dead.
A flash of embarrassment crossed Emily’s face. A male classmate nearby saw this and eagerly came over, smiling at her. “Let me help you.”
This was a helpful good classmate, but unfortunately, the freckles on his face exceeded the appropriate limit. That might be why Emily immediately pulled her hands back.
“No need, thanks.”
She remained polite but rejected him decisively. The male classmate looked bewildered, standing there at a loss, the young helpful youth still unaware of why.
“I’m dying laughing.”
Madison saw this and burst out laughing, slamming onto the desk, shoulders shaking wildly. “Hahahaha! Emily, your acting skills are terrible!”
She didn’t forget to insult while laughing.
“Mind your own business, Miss Montgomery!” Emily said hatefully, her tone indignant. Facing her warning, Madison didn’t care at all.
She even planned to pour oil on the fire.
“Your sister is in a good mood today, so I’ll teach you for free what it means to use Ian properly.” With that, Madison unclasped the necklace from her neck.
“Help me clasp it, study maniac.” Madison turned her back to Ian, slapping a ten dollar bill onto the book he was reading while speaking.
The next moment, Ian sprang into action, deftly taking the necklace, his fingers skillfully threading through Madison’s blonde hair, clasping it in under three seconds.
Extremely proficient.
Especially the speed at which he pocketed the ten dollar bill.
Gotta say.
Madison was indeed quite wealthy.
For a middle school student, this was definitely no small pocket money. So, the big bill defeated Ian’s laziness, and the knowledge in the textbook couldn’t defeat Alexander Hamilton.
Its power was only one-tenth weaker than Franklin’s.
Already very strong.
“See? That’s what professional looks like.”
Madison looked provocatively at Emily, taking back the five dollar bill Ian gave her as change—on the point of exchanging labor for reward, the Son of Superman had his own principles.
“Just you wait, bitch! Don’t let me catch you after school!” Emily, already looking upset, gnashed her teeth, stomped her foot, and stormed off.
As for her threat.
Madison still didn’t care.
“Seriously, where did you skip class to yesterday? Don’t tell me you went to the bookstore.” Madison continued chatting with Ian, pulling out nail polish to paint her nails.
“I didn’t skip class.”
Ian corrected his deskmate’s wording.
“I took sick leave.”
He showed his rigorous side.
“Oh? Sick leave?”
Madison aimed her shiny nails at the sunlight.
“Of course sick leave. My parents took me to see a psychiatrist.” Ian saw no need to conceal it. Seeing a psychiatrist wasn’t weird in the US.
After all.
Americans really don’t have steel-like will, so in this country, seeing a psychiatrist is normal. Many people don’t understand why US mental health services are so popular.
“Is this a misery contest?”
Madison was a bit surprised upon hearing this.
“Is there a prize for winning?”
Ian once again showed his unique focus. Madison pursed her lips, rolling her eyes at champion level.
“I see psychiatrists often too. Even if there’s a prize, I’d win.” She held up her hand, turning it to let the sunlight hit her freshly painted nail polish.
“What did your doctor say?”
The blonde girl asked casually.
Ian thought for a moment.
“The doctor said I have a bit of a mental problem.”
He still chose not to conceal it.
Madison scoffed disdainfully. “Psychiatrists are all like that. They like scaring people, otherwise how do they make money? The key is how you view yourself.”
Her words had a philosophical flavor, hard to imagine from a middle schooler whose grades were all single digits. Ian pondered for a moment after hearing it.
“I think my psychiatrist’s diagnosis of me is a bit too conservative. Honestly, I feel my mental problem is at the level of top of the grade in our school.”
His tone was serious.
“Ha?”
Madison was shocked.
“You’re competing on this too? Your competitive spirit is stronger than mine?” Madison called it outrageous, looking at Ian like he was some incomprehensible unknown creature.
And right then.
The first-period teacher had started class. As the teacher mentioned “the turning point of World War II,” a deafening roar suddenly came from outside the window.
Then.
The ground shook.
A few students screamed and dove under desks.
The history teacher just glanced out the window, then returned to the podium, tapped the blackboard, calmly adjusted his glasses. “Everyone, no need to panic.”
“It’s just another airplane crash… It won’t affect class. In Metropolis, this is normal. Superman has surely saved those unlucky passengers.”
The history teacher talked about the plane crash like casual chatter, his tone incredibly calm—only to be expected from Metropolis right next to Gotham.
It really had some “city” heritage.
“Cool.”
Madison whistled from under the desk.
The classmates all showed dawning realization, quickly accepting the history teacher’s reassurance, and the classroom returned to a harmonious atmosphere.
“…”
Ian’s expression was colorful. He turned to look at the thick smoke billowing in the distance outside the classroom window, hesitated, but ultimately chose to blend into the collective harmony.
He, who had just been discussing his mental state.
Now felt like he might be the only normal person in the classroom.
No one realized.
That the fallen airplane had already exploded?
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