Chapter 145: Dream God Attacks! Batman Faces Death?
Superman stood by the window of the half-finished wooden house, gazing at the job recruitment banner by the road in the direction of Gotham. Not only were his eyes twitching, but the muscles in his cheeks were uncontrollably spasming.
There was no choice.
Who knew Old Father had such good eyes and ears.
He not only saw with his own eyes Ian trying to bewitch a group of powerless angels, but also heard Madison, holding a megaphone, shouting in broken Latin something about a “Heavenly Re-employment Project.”
“Pururu pururu.”
The Demonic Minotaur made a cautious sound.
Upon seeing Superman’s increasingly contorted expression, the hell creature completely panicked. It clearly thought its clumsy imitation had angered this God of Man.
Otherwise.
It couldn’t explain why Superman, who was supposed to have the most control, couldn’t even control the muscles in his face.
“Ian God forced me to do this!” The Demonic Minotaur suddenly slid, its head sliding three meters across the wooden floor, stopping right at Superman’s feet as it wailed. “I didn’t want to! I’m just a very ordinary trash can! But Ian God insisted I learn from other dirty demons to bewitch you with my voice!”
It was clear that the Demonic Minotaur’s true nature and instincts had been awakened. The creature secretly glanced at Superman’s ashen face, its voice growing smaller, filled with fear and unease.
“Please don’t crush my head.”
How could it not be afraid?
The Demonic Minotaur knew that Superman’s power was becoming increasingly sinister. There was even a faint, flickering divinity within his body. Who knew what version of Superman it had encountered?
“Just shut up already,” Superman sighed, rubbing his temples. Turning around, he saw Jordan standing by the door at some unknown time, his eyes fixed on the demon head on the floor.
Clark’s muscles trembled uncontrollably again—don’t forget, he was now Superman with telepathy, and he knew exactly what his second son was thinking, even if he didn’t say it aloud.
Of course, the Demonic Minotaur didn’t have this ability, but it did have demonic senses. Seeing Jordan’s strange look, it was so scared that its entire head began to frantically lose color.
“Don’t let him come over! Please! Superman!”
It was hard to imagine a day when a demon would ask Superman for help.
“…”
Superman directly put the demon head into a wooden box. The demon head didn’t resist; instead, it felt a sense of security. Superman sent it, along with the box, directly to the North Pole.
The Batcave.
The round trip didn’t take much time for the current Clark. He also brought back Lois, who was staying at the Batcave, and she had been bombarding him with dissatisfied remarks along the way.
The Old Father’s mood was naturally somber.
Upon returning to their new home, the Old Father saw Jordan still peering out the window.
“Go to work!” Superman grabbed Jordan by the collar and strode towards the door. Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, Lois, who had put down her luggage, spoke with dissatisfaction.
“What does Ian mean by not allowing him to buy me a big house because of jealousy?” Having regained her mobile signal, Lois held her phone and saw a delayed text message she had just received.
“Meow meow meow~”
An orange cat emerged from the handbag at her feet, affectionately rubbing against Lois’s ankle, which had high-end canned food. It mimicked the meowing of a specific cat and was, as desired, picked up by Lois.
“Speak up.”
Lois held up her phone.
She showed Clark the 5,000-character essay from Ian that was very “Weibo-esque.” It was reasonable that a master imitator would have a master complainer, and Superman felt that today was the hardest day of his life.
“You know Ian sometimes exaggerates… Our small home is also very cozy, and we should set an example and not indulge Ian’s extravagant spending habits.”
Clark’s Super Brain was used in similar scenarios.
He thought quickly.
He provided an answer full of “family wisdom.”
It made a lot of sense.
However, women often don’t like to reason.
“Is that so?”
Lois raised an eyebrow, her finger sliding across the phone screen: “But he said he earned that hard-earned money from Bruce with his own ability, through difficult work that pays eighty dollars per hit.”
Mother looked up at Clark.
“I think he might just want to show filial piety?”
A woman’s way of thinking is naturally more emotional. The thought of Ian working illegally for Bruce to earn money to buy her a big house filled her with warmth.
Of course.
There was also the reason that Lois couldn’t possibly not want to live in a big house.
Every woman dreams of living in a big house.
“…”
Clark heard Lois’s explanation and couldn’t find a reason to refute it. After all, Ian didn’t seem to be lying—Ian’s essay for Lois was indeed terrifying.
An essay with a mix of truth and falsehood.
The truth was indeed hard to resist.
“Actually, we like big houses too.”
After being grabbed, Jordan was working with Jonathan processing wood. He seized the opportunity to express his wishes to Clark, dragging in Jonathan, who was actually indifferent.
“You can earn money through legal channels to buy what you want,” Clark lectured earnestly, but this did not lead to deep enlightenment for his second brother.
“I’m earning, I’m earning.”
The second brother had already found his way to make money.
However, Clark saw through his thoughts completely.
“Jordan, I’ve already warned you. Registering with those less active superheroes and selling them your so-called Kryptonian health supplements is not a legal way to make money.”
Clark was extremely helpless, trying to guide Jordan back to the right path with his low voice—however, he found that Jordan’s mind was once again leaning towards selling Kryptonian offspring to private hospitals.
“…”
The Old Father was dumbfounded.
He had clearly encountered the most troublesome Kryptonian crisis in history.
“Those are not ordinary health supplements,”
“I really added some of my blood to them, so how can that not be considered a real Kryptonian health supplement? If I don’t sell them, Ian will eventually drag me to his health supplement factory anyway.”
Jordan was unaware that his thoughts had been completely deciphered. He responded righteously, clearly having a habit of secretly reading Ian’s notebook, just like Lois.
However, Lois liked to read Ian’s diary, while he, after awakening his Super Brain, realized that he could sneak a look at Ian’s 【 business proposals 】 when Ian was out.
Of course.
Jordan’s description of Ian’s grand plan here was slightly exaggerated. The 【 business proposal 】 clearly stated that he was to be tricked into being a test subject at a silicone body double processing plant.
“………”
The Old Father’s silence was always so resounding.
Fortunately, only he could hear Jordan’s thoughts.
Lois was more concerned about the accommodation for the night. While petting the cat that had emerged from her handbag, she looked at the unfinished wooden bed.
“I think the backrest should be ergonomically designed, making it convenient for us to lean on when reading and studying at night,” Lois made a request to Jonathan, who was working.
“No problem.”
The Eldest Brother immediately agreed.
“You look quite skilled,” Lois said, sitting on the half-finished sofa, her fingers gently stroking the orange cat in her arms, her eyes fixed on the bed backrest that Jonathan was carving.
She watched her son, clad in that mysterious armor, wildly brandish a carving knife on the wood. Wood shavings flew, and a distorted human silhouette gradually took shape—it was a strange image that seemed to be doing a belly dance, its limbs twisted at impossible angles, its face wearing a smile that was not a smile.
“.”
Lois’s hand, which was petting the cat, suddenly stopped.
“Honey,” she said, trying to remain calm, her tone somewhat speechless. “I don’t think this is an ergonomic design. Did you carve a dancing person on it?”
To be honest, Lois dared not imagine what kind of nightmare it would be to sleep on this bed at night, leaning against the backrest, feeling as if she were lying in the embrace of an Indian man.
“Hahaha~”
Jordan laughed so hard his stomach hurt.
Jonathan, wearing armor, scratched his head sheepishly. He looked at the tools in his hand. “Uh, I didn’t really intend to carve it this way… it just happened by some strange compulsion.”
The carving knife in his hand moved again, attempting to correct the distorted human figure. However, after his “correction,” the image on the backrest gradually transformed from a distorted person to an even more distorted person.
Now the “person” looked like they were performing some kind of cult ritual.
“So, is the price of wearing this armor that your aesthetic sense is affected?” Lois, from her handbag, took out a bottle of red wine she carried with her.
She was trying to accept and understand the current scene. Mother had also heard about Jonathan’s situation. While shocked, she was actually happy for Jonathan.
After all, she had always worried that the incapable Jonathan might develop psychological problems due to his ordinary status, so even now, she was trying to be considerate of Jonathan’s feelings.
“I don’t know either.”
Jonathan replied honestly, but his hands didn’t stop. Wood shavings continued to fly, and the carving on the backrest had now become a mass of unidentifiable lines.
Vaguely, it could be seen as three intertwined human figures.
Lois’s expression grew more and more interesting.
She guzzled the red wine.
“Let me do it.”
Clark finally couldn’t stand it anymore, his eyes glowing red. Heat vision precisely swept across the backrest, smoothing out the bizarre carvings and reshaping them into smooth ergonomic curves.
“Actually, you don’t need to be so detailed. In fact, Dad and Mom, have you considered that if you don’t let Ian buy a big house, he’ll blow up the house given the chance?”
Jordan stopped being The Batman Who Laughs Jordan.
Instead, he sat on the half-finished wooden sofa and muttered softly. As the second brother who had been closest to Ian since childhood, Jordan understood some of Ian’s methods and habits much better than the rest of the family.
“…”
Clark’s heat vision paused, and Lois’s wine glass stopped at her lips. Just as everyone seemed to be reminded by Jordan,
a knock suddenly sounded from outside the door.
“Knock knock knock.”
The rhythm was steady, unhurried.
It slightly broke the strange atmosphere inside the house.
“I’ll go open the door,” Lois said, looking back as she walked. Knowing her son as well as a mother does, she felt Jordan’s words had some merit. Therefore, she wanted to take a good look at their new home.
Mother began to have a sixth sense.
She had already determined that she might not even be able to live in this new home for a few days—perhaps this was a superpower all women possessed, and Lois’s intuition proved to be incredibly accurate.
And so.
Lois opened the creaking wooden door. Standing outside was a middle-aged man in a suit and leather shoes. He had a meticulously combed back-swept hairstyle and a kind smile like a good-natured person on his face.
He also held a delicate briefcase.
“Who are you looking for?”
Lois asked in surprise. She didn’t remember seeing this man among her neighbors, and at this ungodly hour, most people wouldn’t visit strangers.
“Is this Mr. Ian Kent’s temporary shelter?”
The man flashed an even more friendly smile, his demeanor almost servile. “I am Phil Dunphy, a star real estate agent from Modern Properties.”
Upon hearing this.
Lois’s eyelids twitched.
Phil then took out a gilded business card from his briefcase and handed it over with both hands. “I have already found a suitable property that fully meets Mr. Ian Kent’s requirements.”
Saying this.
Phil also took out an exquisite photo album.
“We don’t actually need to move,” Lois managed to maintain a polite smile, but her gaze involuntarily drifted to the bed backrest behind her, which had been disfigured by Jonathan’s carving.
Regarding this.
Phil seemed to have expected it. He wasn’t disappointed at all, and simply handed the photo album to Lois. “Mr. Ian Kent told me that I would also need to persuade his parents, who enjoy reminiscing about hardships and are incredibly stubborn.”
He glanced at the dilapidated wooden house structure with some emotion, deeming Ian’s description quite accurate. A wealthy family living in such a naturally gifted wooden house.
It was truly unexpected.
Of course.
Phil felt he could understand.
Many wealthy people, after their material needs are met, like to play these “disguise themselves as pigs to eat tigers” games.
“How do you plan to persuade me?” Lois opened the first page of the leather photo album, and a modern mansion spanning nearly a thousand square meters appeared before her eyes.
Floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows, smart home system, a constant-temperature swimming pool with massage functions… and a large wine cellar.
“It’s so beautiful,” Lois’s finger lightly brushed over the spacious and bright kitchen in the photo, her tone carrying an apology. “However, it doesn’t seem like a place we could live in.”
This was clearly an attempt to politely decline Phil.
“This house is currently on a 30% discount, and I have contacted the owner, a very kind and wealthy philanthropist, who has agreed to help Mr. Ian Kent, who has purchasing intentions, persuade you all.” Phil lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret that couldn’t be told.
Just as Lois was about to ask for more details, Clark arrived.
“Oh? How is this wealthy philanthropist you mentioned going to persuade us?” His super hearing had already picked up the conversation, and his Kryptonian intuition caught a whiff of conspiracy.
“To be honest, I’m not sure of the specific plan,” Phil checked his wristwatch, looking puzzled. “Logically, the ‘lobbyist’ assigned by the owner should have come with me.”
Most of the time.
Things just happen when you mention them. Just then, a black van slowly stopped by the roadside. The doors opened, and three people with distinctly different demeanors emerged in a stream.
The first person was wearing a polo shirt with “Community Improvement Initiative” printed on it.
He held a resident satisfaction survey form.
The second person carried a briefcase with the logo of the Child Protection Agency and had a serious expression. Clark had already heard the person’s thoughts; these were staff members investigating child abuse cases.
“…”
Clark was stunned. He had also read their deep-seated thoughts of accepting a hundred thousand US dollars in bribery from an unknown wealthy person, intending to label him and Lois as inferior parents.
“This area is planned to become a foul-smelling garbage disposal center, and only this family is left without a unified demolition plan.” The third person had a “City Planning Bureau” work ID tucked into his suit pocket.
They were walking towards Lois, Clark, and Phil. This was definitely a powerful lobbying team, making even the strongest members of the Justice League tremble.
Not only Clark.
Lois, with her mouth agape, also seemed to realize who the kind, wealthy philanthropist was.
“Damn Bruce! What is he trying to do?” Lois angrily looked at her husband. Clark’s gaze was already directed towards Gotham.
He certainly couldn’t find any trace of Gotham’s cunning and wealthy trickster.
However.
This glance.
It also allowed him to see Ian’s burgeoning “career.”
Behold.
It was in front of a ruined church.
The night was deep, and the wind whispered through Gotham’s ruins, as if still telling of the church’s past glory. Now, only broken walls remained, the dome had collapsed, and stained glass lay shattered on the ground.
However.
The place was quite lively at this moment. Ian Kent stood on a pile of bricks and tiles, with a huge banner behind him: 【 Heaven’s Human World Office – Angel Re-employment Registration Center 】.
“The Gotham Angel Re-employment Center is officially established. The first CEO, Ian Kent, stated that he will create 500 heavenly positions. First come, first served, or those who come later may lose the chance to go home.”
“One step too late, no path to heaven!!”
“Black angels, white angels, all good angels!!”
“Not for 99.8, not for 66.8!!”
“As long as you repent, heaven is not a dream!!”
“Boss Ian is kind-hearted and cannot bear to see angels stranded in the human world!!”
“Work hard today, enjoy bliss in heaven tomorrow!!”
“Believe in Ian, achieve eternal life!!”
“Believe in Ian, return to heaven!!”
“Last three days! Last three days!!”
“Miss today, wait another thousand years!!”
…
Of course, this was not Ian’s own promotion.
He also had a megaphone, inlaid with a black box, constantly broadcasting specific frequencies throughout the city. It was Madison shouting at the top of her lungs.
As CEO, Ian naturally wouldn’t shout himself. Fortunately, the little punk girl was by his side, so she could do the work. Her varied tone deeply conveyed the feeling of the Jiangnan Leather Factory.
It was clear that Ian had taught her well.
“Line up, line up! Don’t push!”
Ian waved a baton he had picked up from somewhere, shouting at the group of black-winged angels in front of him, “Those who have registered, go to the left to collect your angel work cards.”
“I’ve already sent people to find factories, and soon everyone will be able to atone for their sins.” Ian, dressed in a white mimicry robe, was acting as a great philanthropist, doing his best to help the homeless angels.
Don’t ask why they were homeless.
Even if the angels returned to heaven, they would still be homeless. Master Ian couldn’t bear to see these displaced angels sleeping on the streets, so he stepped forward to offer help to all the angels who had lost their powers.
“Uh, what is a work card?” The black angels looked at each other, bewildered. They were originally combat angels who had been corrupted and fallen, but now they were lining up like job-seeking university students.
“I know, I know, it’s something that the laborers in the American sugarcane fields dreamed of.” Madison had indeed attended school, but she remembered this history thanks to her slave-owning ancestors.
Perhaps it was because her ancestors had once been glorious, that Madison seemed very capable now. She was responsible for the white angels, registering their height, weight, three measurements, and special skills.
“Hmm?”
Some of the angels who were familiar with history frowned, but after looking at Ian again, they didn’t think too much about it. After all, they still had the eyes of angels.
They could see the radiant glory of an archangel on Ian.
“Venerable One, why do we need to work?” A tall black angel hesitated and stepped forward. The angels in their queue did not need to register their height, weight, or three measurements.
“You can think of it as God’s tempering for you,” Ian said earnestly, his benevolent and compassionate demeanor appearing in the eyes of the angels, complementing the dazzling glory emanating from him.
“So that’s how it is.”
The angels connected their fallen experiences to this, realizing that God was not satisfied with certain aspects of them and had dispatched an archangel to guide them towards change.
“I understand!”
The black angel knelt on one knee devoutly.
“This is a test given to us by the Lord! I am willing to accept all suffering!”
He loudly announced his attitude to the other angels. The other black angels followed suit, kneeling and praying as if Ian were not a mortal but a manifestation of glory descended from heaven.
“Yes, yes, a test. You, the most devout one, will get an extra meal tonight.”
Ian took out his magic book and had all the angels sign the “Ian’s Labor Contract” in order. This was a “document” magic newly created from 【 Ian’s Magic Book 】.
The black angels came forward one by one and placed their fingertips on the pages. Instantly, their names turned into ink and merged into the spine of the book. The magic book closed a page with satisfaction.
Continuing to chew on its “food.”
Yes, the book was “crunching” a pitch-black notebook, its pages fluttering like butterflies, as if being greedily devoured by an invisible mouth.
“What is this book… eating?” An angel couldn’t help but ask.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ian waved his hand. “The child is just hungry.”
The angels nodded and asked no more questions, turning their attention back to the enthusiastic registration process. Meanwhile, on another side not far away, a girl in a white suit wearing lensless glasses was holding a microphone, asking a group of handsome angels questions as she continuously tallied their skills.
“Special skills?” she asked without looking up.
“I can bless a thousand souls simultaneously,” a female angel said proudly.
Madison rolled her eyes. “Can you dance?”
“What?”
The beautiful female angel was very confused.
“Oh, you’re really useless.” Madison sighed. “Never mind, as long as you’re good-looking. Go to live stream room number 3. Today, I’ll teach you how to shout ‘mua mua’ to your families.”
The angels were confused.
But thinking that this was a test to return to heaven, they obediently followed the arrangements. Perhaps Batman’s previous guess was not wrong: angels would either go to black factories or be trafficked into brothels. He just didn’t anticipate that new-age brothels, black factories, and even mental hospitals would be opened by a rising star of the same capitalist.
Yes, that’s right. Ian intended to arrange for these handsome male and female angels to do live streams and sell goods. The Evil God Lord’s only conscience was that angels didn’t need to sleep with big spenders.
As for the black angels.
Their live stream performance would surely not be good because they couldn’t save on electricity bills at night.
So, of course, they would all be sent to the factories to shine.
“Family members! I know you want to return to heaven! But God might have heard from MacArthur – the sun always shines after the wind and rain! There are no free opportunities to return home in this world.”
At this moment.
Ian also floated into the air, displaying seventy-two pure wings mimicked by 【 Myriad Manifestations 】 behind him. The glory emanating from him obscured the false reality.
“You were once the guardians of heaven, the purest radiance before the throne of God.” Ian’s voice was not loud, but it was sonorous and impassioned, piercing every angel’s heart. “But now, you have fallen into this mortal world, your wings stained with dust, your faith shaken, and you even begin to doubt – will heaven still accept you?”
He paused, looking around, meeting every gaze as if he were not speaking but looking directly into their very pure souls.
“I tell you, the answer is: Yes! As long as you work hard, you can return to heaven!” This sentence exploded like thunder, shaking the hearts of all the angels.
It swept away their hesitation and fear.
“You may have been banished, judged, tested… but this does not mean your destiny ends here!” Ian’s voice gradually rose. “Heaven has never truly closed its doors; it is only waiting, waiting for you to prove yourselves again – with actions, with perseverance, with unremitting effort to earn recognition beyond that door!”
“Whether it’s screwing bolts or doing live streams to sell me goods, these are all tests, ladders to salvation! You don’t need to question the meaning of these tasks, because they are precisely the opportunities God has given you – to temper yourselves in hardship and to sublimate in the ordinary!” Ian’s seventy-two wings were all flailing.
His voice was full of infectious power.
“Some people ask me: ‘Kind Ian, can we really go back?'” He smiled slightly, his eyes shimmering with a mysterious and firm light. “I will say: Of course. As long as you are willing to pay, willing to strive, willing to believe – you will eventually spread your wings again, fly through the clouds, and return to that holy land.”
“This is not a lie, it is hope.” His voice lowered but became more sincere. “You are not failures, but warriors who have not yet completed their mission. You are not fallen ones, but children on their way home. Therefore, please remember – work hard for Ian, and you can return to heaven.
This is not a slogan, but a promise;
This is not a scam, but an opportunity;
This is not a lie, but a choice. Working for me is to temper your will, to let you know the suffering of all beings. Live streaming is to get close to people and let you understand their worries and concerns.”
“The working hours of 007 are precisely to let everyone feel and experience the period of the seven days of creation by God! Without experiencing wind and rain, how can you see God!”
He extended his hand.
Pointing to the night sky in the distance:
“Look, the starlight has not died, and heaven is still waiting for you to return.” This speech was indeed a successful imitation of Charlie Chaplin, speaking to the hearts of almost every angel.
The angels fell silent.
Then, thunderous applause and cheers erupted.
The angels were filled with fervor, and some were already wiping away tears. The later angels scrambled to sign contracts, fearing they would lose this “precious opportunity” if they were a moment too late.
The angels, both white and black, had no objections to the contract content that bound them to Ian twenty-four hours a day. After all, it was reasonable for God’s test to require twenty-four hours of continuous work.
You should know.
When they encountered penitents before, they used similar words, requiring them to restrain their behavior twenty-four hours a day, every moment, to brainwash the world.
Now.
It was their turn to need salvation.
Naturally, they would desperately seize this life-saving hope. No one could clearly say whether Ian’s actions were just absurd trickery. Perhaps the angels could truly gain the tempering they deserved from this experience.
The angels prostrated themselves before Ian, and hymns of praise echoed in the dilapidated church. Ian stood on a makeshift platform, holding a cup of milk tea with triple the amount of “pearls.”
He was full of pride, but it didn’t last long, because suddenly, his peripheral vision caught sight of a figure silently appearing at the church entrance, accompanying the angels as they entered the church without a complete roof.
Morpheus, the Dream God, lifted his foot and took a step. The next moment, without any of the angels noticing, he arrived in front of a relatively intact chair and slowly sat down.
He didn’t say anything. He just calmly watched Ian, who, realizing his arrival, was frantically slurping his milk tea, his cheeks ballooning twenty-four times a second.
【 Entropy Lord Experience +199】
【 Entropy Lord Experience +199】
【 Entropy Lord Experience +199】
…
As the system prompts continued to appear, Ian gained experience and leveled up as he wished.
【 Level Up! 】
【 Entropy Lord Lv11 [1300/10240] 】
【 Strength: 332—384 】
【 Constitution: 375—401 】
【 Intelligence: 25.0—26.1 】
【 Spirit: 129—136 】
Before leveling up, Ian’s attributes had been slightly increased by divine power, but the increase from leveling up was clearly the main part. He had become even stronger again.
At the same time.
Unbeknownst to Ian himself, the angelic glory on him became even more radiant, a holy aura swirling around him, visible only to the angels.
“Lord Ian must be acting under the Lord’s will!”
“This radiance, this majesty… it cannot be wrong!”
Seeing this.
The angels unanimously concluded that Ian was an archangel sent by God to the human world.
Otherwise.
Why had the already intense glory on Ian increased even more after the speech? It was obvious that this was a sign of God’s increasing trust in this archangel!
He was doing the right thing!
The angels became even more fervent and convinced. Of course, Ian had no time to pay attention to this. He stopped his speech and, while glaring at the Dream God nearby, continued to guzzle his milk tea.
【 Entropy Lord Experience +134】
【 Entropy Lord Experience +99】
【 Entropy Lord Experience +78】
…
Racing against time.
Ian was trying his best to minimize his losses.
【 Entropy Lord Lv11 [4300/10240] 】 He was truly drinking to his fill, to the point where his body could no longer absorb and convert experience points.
The skill 【 Ultimate Hunger 】 was still a few skill points away from leveling up. Ian regretted it greatly and even wanted to take out a loan from the system to borrow skill points to increase his body’s load capacity.
“…”
Watching Ian’s cheeks go from twenty-four times a second to sixty-eight times a second, like a starving ghost reincarnated, Morpheus, the Dream God, could no longer maintain his composure.
“It’s time to return what you owe me.”
The Dream God’s voice was very soft, but it caused the temperature in the entire church to drop. Ian frantically wiped his mouth, and before he could respond, Morpheus raised his pale finger.
He snapped his fingers lightly—
“Snap.”
Time froze at this moment. The angels remained in their kneeling posture, Madison’s hand holding the live streaming equipment was frozen in mid-air, and even the falling dust was still.
The only ones who could still move were Ian, holding the milk tea, and the Dream God, who was slowly approaching. The angels had lost their radiance, so naturally, they could not escape the influence of the Dream God’s power.
In fact.
Besides having an extra pair of wings compared to humans, and perhaps not needing to sleep to replenish energy, angels were truly no different from mortals. They couldn’t even move an object with their minds.
“Okay, okay.” Ian had his bottom line, so he usually kept his promises. He reluctantly handed the wet sandbag back to Morpheus with some reluctance.
“Dada-da~”
Morpheus stared at his soaked sandbag. He dared not ask what kind of milk Ian had used for his milk tea, and he, who knew little about this ancient god, feared hearing a frightening answer.
He carefully checked the remaining dream sand in it.
His silent attitude became even more silent.
“That…” Ian blinked his eyes and suddenly put on an embarrassed expression. “Can you leave me a little bit more? Just a little bit! I helped you find the sandbag, so you should be filial to me.”
His words carried a hint of greed, though not excessive.
Morpheus’s hand trembled visibly. He stared at Ian in silence for a long time, finally grabbing a handful of sand from the sandbag and placing it heavily in Ian’s palm.
“Indeed, you are generous. I’m going to put you and Miss Death on a generosity ranking.” Ian was easily satisfied and happily poured the sand into his milk tea cup.
A few tiny crystals slipped through his fingers and silently seeped into the ground. Morpheus did not stop them, merely looking at the pitted ground of the church with his silent expression.
Those sand grains did not disappear. They were drawn by some force, sinking continuously… sinking through ten meters, one hundred meters, many, many meters of soil.
Finally, they landed on a roof made of special alloy.
Its texture was unusual, as if it had a will of its own. Upon contact with the metal, it began to penetrate slowly. Through microscopic gaps, it silently slid in, like a drop of water falling into soil, passing through the defense system, data cables, and steel structures without a sound, reaching the space beneath the alloy roof.
Finally.
These sand grains, barely visible to the naked eye, settled on the ground in front of a pair of battle boots. The dazzling white light illuminated the entire laboratory. The owner of the battle boots sensed something and looked down but saw nothing.
“Bruce, what are you planning to do?” The Flash, Barry Allen, sat inside a transparent isolation chamber, tapping his knee restlessly.
He watched Batman outside performing some operations. Batman stood before complex instruments, holding a test tube in each hand. The test tube in the superhero’s left hand shimmered with a rainbow-like glow, like solidified aurora, while the test tube in his right hand contained a viscous black substance that occasionally emitted a sickly luminescence.
“As expected, you’ve retained a part of that contaminant. That’s not a safe enough practice; it’s likely to adapt to the environment and pollute you without you even noticing.”
The Flash stared intently at the black test tube.
His voice held a rare seriousness. Batman didn’t answer immediately. He placed two test tubes into the centrifuge, and the instrument immediately emitted a low hum.
“I’ve been affected too,” Bruce’s voice was hoarser than usual as he manipulated the instrument panel. “It’s just that my condition is more subtle than yours and Clark’s symptoms.”
“So I’m going to attempt to save myself.”
It was clear that, after his self-assessment, Batman, whose personality was somewhat out of control, had finally realized what the problem was, even if he didn’t remember his previous dreams.
“Clark’s feelings towards you were actually right!”
The astonished Flash was taken aback for a moment, his gaze shifting to the rainbow-colored test tube. “What’s in there? Can it save us? I think you should just use me for the experiment.”
“If you completely lose control due to a dangerous experiment, you won’t be the only one who’s doomed.” This was what he and the other Justice League members feared the most.
“This is a special substance I collected from the air in Metropolis when I dealt with a witch before Ian,” Batman stopped his work and turned to look at him. His eyes, hidden beneath his mask, seemed particularly deep in the cold light of the laboratory. “Actually, this isolation chamber you’re in isn’t protecting me at all.”
This statement made one shudder upon further thought.
The Flash began to pound on the glass cover.
However.
He couldn’t stop Batman’s stubborn decision.
Heaven knew if Batman’s deep influence was behind such a decision.
As soon as he finished speaking, Bruce had already extracted the fused reagent. Under the Flash’s shouts and terrified gaze, the Gotham Master injected it into his carotid artery without hesitation.
“Wait! You should at least do an animal experiment—”
The Flash’s exclamation came to an abrupt halt.
Because Batman had already fallen directly onto a bed prepared nearby. He seemed to have entered some strange dreamscape, his expression on his face becoming one of pain and determination.
In the air.
Sand granules that had fallen into the laboratory began to float.
“Bruce!”
The Flash inside the isolation chamber obviously couldn’t see the sand granules.
He just watched in horror as strange scars appeared on his friend’s body. The patterns crawled beneath Bruce’s skin like living things. He frantically pounded on the isolation chamber, looking around.
The Flash knew.
He had to try to find a way to escape.
Bruce was too reckless.
He had to notify Superman about this situation quickly!
“I knew I shouldn’t have gone into the cage again!”
The Flash struggled to use resonance to penetrate the glass. Fortunately, Batman hadn’t used his speedster defenses on the glass again. He successfully broke through the glass and entered the laboratory.
“What should I do!?”
He first went to check on Bruce’s condition.
Just as the Flash was taking out his mobile phone.
“Oh, it looks like things aren’t good, Flash. Danger is imminent. Perhaps you need my help.” A voice the Flash was very familiar with suddenly echoed in his mind.
It was the tone habitually used by the mysterious boy from his strange dreamscape who treated him like a toy!
[PS: Please vote for your monthly tickets at the beginning of the month. I’m going to start a burst of updates.]
