Chapter 155: God And Ordinary Citizen Ian
Ian might have the Yellow Red Temperature Sun form.
But his Red Temperature Level is clearly no match for the current Yellow Red Temperature Vice Lord of Heaven. With her revealing herself so openly, how could the infinitely wise Michael not guess who the wealthy patron is?
“Boom!”
He punched directly through the computer monitor. Just before Michael’s fist touched the screen, the bullet screen was still filled with the terrifying words: “Yellow Angel Lord, wiggle your butt!”
With a bang.
The curved screen, worth thousands of dollars, exploded into a sky of shards under his fist.
The flying glass shards cut his palm. However, facing the reality that he too would bleed, Michael ignored it and began smashing things directly in the live stream.
“Damn it! Damn you!” Michael’s expression shifted from confusion and irritation to outright rage within a single minute.
His life experience wasn’t enough; he foolishly tried to dismantle the computer host with his bare hands while it was still powered. Before he could recover, the host emitted a burning smell due to a short circuit.
Immediately after, a current shot up his arm and throughout his entire body. Michael convulsed violently, letting out a somewhat heart-wrenching scream of distress, like a rich woman in pain.
“Ahhhhhh!”
For the first time in two thousand years, the Archangel experienced the pain of mortals – his feathers exploded outwards, and he collapsed onto the ground with a “thump” like a peacock struck by lightning. His body convulsed, smoke wisped from his hair, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Michael found words appearing again before his blurry eyes.
“Yellow The computer is broken, and I can see you too. See my divine power? Envious, aren’t you? It’s no use being envious! Hahaha! Yellow” The last part of the text even played a realistic voice.
“Ughhhhh!”
This time, it wasn’t a scream of pain.
Michael’s voice was filled with humiliation, like a marmot roaring at the air. The sound was drawn out and full of emotion, causing the factory ceiling to tremble slightly.
“Tap tap tap~”
Hurried footsteps echoed from outside the door.
A white angel, who was live-streaming in the next room, heard the commotion and rushed over to check on Archangel Michael.
“Venerable One, are you alright?” The streaming angel’s hands trembled upon seeing Michael’s disheveled state, and he almost dropped the selfie stick he was holding.
“Of course, I’m fine! What could possibly be wrong with me?” Michael forced himself to sit up, a trace of drool from the electric shock still on his lip. However, he had to maintain his dignified facade.
“I just encountered a small problem.” He tried his best to appear as if he had just finished a restricted-access live stream, rather than being almost defeated by a broken machine built by humans.
Of course, despite his best efforts to conceal the truth, his face, which had turned from red to pale, was still unsightly. His teeth were clenched so tightly that he almost crushed his molars.
The streaming angel nodded and didn’t ask further questions. Instead, he raised his phone on the selfie stick and pointed the camera at himself: “I asked, and he said he’s fine now.”
She said to the viewers in her live stream room.
“Who are you talking to?” Michael was utterly shocked. A very bad premonition arose in his heart, a premonition that usually served as a prophet’s prophecy. Now, having lost his power, Michael wished he had also lost his prophetic ability. Unfortunately, reality was not on his side.
Perhaps it was because Michael had altered reality too often in the past, creating a significant rift between himself and other angels.
“Uh… it’s Lucifer. Lucifer is in my live stream room right now.” The streaming angel hesitated, not daring to lie, and dryly replied.
At this moment.
Someone in the bullet screen said they were the Yellow “Chuunibyou” Heavenly Group, but the streaming angel had no time to explain because she had personally witnessed the Archangel’s face turn from pale back to red.
Immensely Red Temperature.
He was just short of smoke puffing from his ears and nostrils.
“What did you say?!”
Michael looked up abruptly, his voice like thunder.
“No! It wasn’t me who wanted to contact him!” The angel frantically waved his hands. “He… he slipped into my live stream, and then… he just kept sending me gifts.”
“Fifty Fantasy Castles.”
The streaming angel added seriously.
His eyes darted away slightly.
Michael’s face grew increasingly grim.
“Do you want to move to Hell and become a fallen angel? For a bit of virtual currency, you’d associate with demons?”
He questioned loudly.
His tone was filled with anger and disbelief.
“Of course not!” The angel quickly explained, “I am still devout to the Lord and to Heaven. It’s just… you know how important Points are to us.”
“Lucifer gave too much.”
“It’s not easy to get gifts like this, especially under such strict regulations. I can’t even wear overly revealing clothes, and asking for large tips is even harder.”
“The humans in the bullet screen said they’d give me a lot of tips if I just showed them my breasts, I really don’t know why there are Yellow ‘live stream room shows adult content’ warnings.”
The female angel’s tone was full of grievance. Her words fully illustrated that these angels, whose understanding differed greatly from humans, had already considered taking shortcuts on their first day of work.
However, they were strictly forbidden.
“Even a fallen angel wouldn’t say such shameless things!” Michael roared again. Before his words could even finish, the streaming angel’s phone vibrated again.
The female angel instinctively looked at the screen.
“Oh, he sent me another fifty Fantasy Castles and told me to remind you to be a professional streamer. If you’re not dead, hurry up and get a new computer and finish dancing for Young Master Lucifer.”
“He knows you’re a spoiled brat with a bad temper, but he said he chooses to forgive you.” The female streaming angel relayed the message in real-time, and she received another fifty Fantasy Castles.
At this very moment.
The female streaming angel didn’t know whether to be happy or not. She knew that Michael, who was stomping his feet in anger, was right, but the fallen angel they usually disdained was giving out too much.
“I’m just relaying his message, but… Venerable One, you are dancing for him.” The female angel wanted to suppress her guilt, so she used Michael as an example.
As soon as these words were spoken.
Michael could no longer stand it.
“I quit!!”
He violently tore off his floral shirt and slammed the door shut. All that remained was the pitiful female streaming angel, who silently cleaned up the mess and equipped the live stream room with a new computer.
Then.
She connected the network cable and logged into Michael’s account.
“Family, Michael quit. Can you follow me? My name is Aurelia, and I’m also a member of the Heaven family. Plus, my live stream room has benefits that Michael can’t provide.”
“What? You want to see a domineering CEO? I can be a domineering CEO too. As long as you give me more tips to help me restore my Glory, I can even sculpt myself a giant penis.”
In just half a day, the female angel had already learned how to be a “dead clingy girl.” Perhaps the title “streaming angel” was truly fitting for her, as she was exceptionally talented.
Outside the factory.
The setting sun cast a long shadow of Michael. He angrily kicked an empty soda can, which traced a perfect parabolic arc in the air—only to be disdainfully dodged by a passing stray cat.
The roar of a Hellcat engine could be heard in the distance. Michael looked up just in time to see Ian’s devil car disappear around the street corner. To this day, he couldn’t accept how someone who associated with demons could become a so-called Angel of Salvation. A feeling of abandonment suddenly surged within him. The Archangel raised his hand and pointed in the direction the vehicle had gone.
“Flip over!!!”
He channeled the remaining divine power within him, and a radiant golden light condensed in his palm—then with a “poof,” like a fart, it blew a gentle breeze that swirled a plastic bag by the roadside.
“I’ve recovered a little, but not much.”
Michael froze in place.
Even stray dogs dared to bark at him.
His expression grew increasingly dejected.
“I want to leave this damned place.”
Michael stood outside the factory door, glanced back at the lively factory, and made up his mind to leave. He walked aimlessly along the road towards the city center.
The highway leading to the city sprawled like a glowing snake under the sunset.
Michael’s steps were heavy, but he had no direction. The metropolis was still bustling in the evening, neon lights flashing, traffic flowing, and streets filled with people coming and going, alive with the breath of existence.
“Stay away from me! Stinking humans!” Michael, like a walking corpse, moved through the crowd, his eyes vacant, but his heart churning with unquenchable wrath.
He had once been an Archangel, the right hand of the Creator, in charge of Judgment and War. Now, he was banished to the Human World. This humiliation made him find fault with everyone.
“Hey, kid, are you alright?”
A voice came from his right.
Michael turned his head.
He saw an old man wrapped in a tattered blanket, sitting in a sheltered spot next to an ATM. The old man’s grizzled beard was stained with food scraps, but his eyes were remarkably clear, like two obsidian stones polished by time.
“You should be concerned about yourself.”
Michael could hear his own hoarse voice.
However.
He did not refrain from mocking the other person.
“Think carefully about why you’ve fallen to this point. Is it because of alcoholism? Gambling? Or are you simply too lazy?” As an Archangel, Michael believed he had witnessed the reasons for countless people’s degradation.
He had expected the old man to become angry when his sore spot was poked.
However.
The old man surprisingly smiled, revealing a few uneven yellow teeth.
“Perhaps it’s due to the exploitation by politicians and capitalists, or maybe God only watches the Human World without intervening. Of course, the biggest reason is definitely that I messed up my marriage.”
He adjusted his sitting position, and the blanket slid down, revealing a dirty hat with “Vietnam Veteran” printed on it. “You look no different from me. Are you angry about your own situation or the injustice of this world?”
The old man’s words were somewhat philosophical.
Michael, however, only felt a wave of annoyance.
“Don’t rely on God for everything. You are sinful, which is why you’ve fallen to this point.” Michael maintained his loyalty, and his words made the yellow-toothed old man chuckle softly.
“Then do you also believe you are sinful?”
The old man suddenly asked.
This question struck Michael’s temples like a blunt blow.
He froze on the spot.
His expression changed several times.
Michael recalled Ian’s taunt about “exchanging Points for answers,” Lucifer’s smug smile as he gifted items, and his own embarrassment from the bullet screen comments in the live stream room.
Of course, the stinging pain of the electricity coursing through his body after smashing the computer was also unforgettable… At that moment, he wasn’t an Archangel, not a judge, nor an existing being of the universe.
He was just a failure.
He lowered his head and looked at his hands.
Then he looked up at the sunset.
The Glory of the past was now nothing but a mockery.
“It has nothing to do with you.” Michael ultimately chose a cold response, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. His mental state also appeared somewhat listless.
As he walked away quickly.
The Archangel heard the old man still rambling behind him.
“Child, anger is a mirror; it only reflects oneself.”
The old man’s voice carried a hint of a sigh.
The Archangel found it somewhat familiar, but he didn’t think much of it, merely continuing his aimless walk down the street, the pedestrians on the sidewalk growing more numerous.
“Humans carry original sin from birth.”
Michael’s gaze swept across the street—the drunken reveler over there was sinful; the tattered beggar in the corner was sinful; the suit-wearing elite across the street was even more sinful.
“This filthy Human World!” Michael weaved through the crowd, walking faster and faster, as if trying to escape something, but no matter where he went, all he saw was “sin.”
The beggar lying on the street was due to laziness; the crying child was due to not being strong enough; the arguing couple was due to disloyalty; the exhausted office worker was also due to their pursuit of pleasure without willingness to put in effort.
“Laziness is a sin, greed is a sin, weakness is a sin. Humans, in reality, should all be sent to Hell.” He repeated this like a spell until he bumped into a wall of flesh.
“What did you say, white boy?”
A two-meter-tall black strong man grabbed his collar. Michael smelled the mixed scent of cheap cologne and sweat on the man and saw his own contorted face reflected in the man’s bloodshot eyes.
“I said you guys—”
His latter half of the sentence turned into a muffled groan.
The world suddenly spun, then darkness descended. By the time Michael realized he had been shoved headfirst into a trash can, the stench of rotting food and chemical cleaner had already filled his nostrils.
“How dare you disrespect me like this!” Plastic bottles and pizza boxes pressed against his cheeks, and a sharp object cut his earlobe. He heard the black man’s laughter and the sound of receding footsteps.
“This is what you deserve!”
Someone shouted from a distance. Michael struggled, and the overturned trash can rolled with him onto the sidewalk. When he finally crawled out, he found his work pants stained with sauce and coffee grounds, and his right palm clutched a rusty screw—perhaps the last memento from the factory.
“Need a hand?” A voice came from not far away. Michael looked up and saw a man in a tan windbreaker sitting on a public bench, leisurely licking an ice cream. The man looked to be about six billion years old, his greasy hair meticulously combed, and the wedding ring on his left ring finger gleamed with a soft light under the streetlamp.
Ice cream dripped onto the man’s shiny leather shoes.
He didn’t wipe it.
He continued to gaze at the filth-covered Michael with calm eyes.
Michael was also looking at him.
“Gabriel.” The former Vice Lord of Heaven was disheveled, standing on the street corner, his wet hair dripping with sewage, his eyes fixed on the man sitting on the public bench.
His brother looked up and offered a gentle smile.
“Good evening, Elder Brother.”
Gabriel tidied his clothes. Michael strode over and plopped down on the bench, splashing sewage onto Gabriel’s shiny leather shoes.
“You stink.”
Gabriel wrinkled his nose and snapped his fingers. A soft white light flashed, and the filth on Michael instantly vanished, even his clothes returning to their original pristine white.
This scene.
Caught Michael completely off guard, his pupils widening.
“How do you still have divine power?!”
He grabbed Gabriel’s wrist abruptly, his voice filled with incredulous shock.
“Perhaps because I’ve always been obedient?”
Gabriel cheerfully bent down and wiped his shoes with a wet tissue.
“Good, this is great. You can send me back to Heaven.” Michael’s voice was filled with pleading and a sense of urgent excitement, “Immediately, right now.”
He didn’t want to stay in the Human World for another moment.
However.
“Oh, oh, oh, I didn’t mean help like that. I meant I can send you back to that factory for free.” Gabriel immediately waved his hands frantically, drawing a clear line. There was no such thing as plastic brotherhood; he knew that the Cherub was even harsher than him, and that guy had completely blocked the gates of Heaven.
“I want to go back to Heaven!”
Michael’s roar startled the crows in the trees.
The crows pooped on his head.
Fortunately, Gabriel intervened in time, and the Vice Lord of Heaven avoided a catastrophe.
“I won’t defy our Father for you.” This was the only help Gabriel could offer; he wouldn’t dare help Michael return to Heaven even if given ten thousand chances.
Michael’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Then go send Lucifer back to Hell.” His tone was firm, a fallback option. However, this seemingly normal request made Gabriel’s eyes widen.
He was stunned on the spot.
“Me? I’m supposed to fight Lucifer?”
He pointed to his own nostrils.
As if he had heard an unbelievable joke.
“Are you sick? Or do you have a high fever? Humans get hallucinations when they have a fever.” Gabriel reached out to touch Michael’s forehead.
But Michael dodged directly.
“If you don’t help me, I’ll find Father myself and resolve the misunderstanding… Then, I’ll settle the score with you.” Michael’s personality remained as malicious and overbearing as ever.
Seeing him about to leave, Gabriel was very helpless.
“Perhaps it’s not a misunderstanding at all.” Gabriel didn’t take Michael’s threat to heart; most angels in Heaven were threatened by Michael more than 366 times a year.
His sudden remark made Michael stop.
“What do you mean?”
The King of Angels turned back, his golden eyes fixed on his brother.
Hearing this, Gabriel stood up, patted away the nonexistent dust, and said, “Go back to screwing bolts. I’m just a prankster elf now and don’t want to get involved in this.”
He didn’t reveal any useful information.
“Did you have contact with Father?”
Michael pressed on, his eyes filled with questioning.
In response, Gabriel answered a question with a question, saying, “You underestimate the human world. It’s very dangerous here. If you’re not careful, it won’t be as simple as dancing for Lucifer.”
He was admonishing his elder brother.
“How do you know what I streamed?”
His elder brother only cared about Gabriel’s information channels.
“…”
Gabriel’s expression visibly stiffened, and his tone carried a hint of guilt. “I am an Archangel, I haven’t lost my glory, of course, I know everything.”
The intention to conceal by overemphasizing was strong in this statement. Michael had indeed lost his glory, but he hadn’t lost his mind because of it, so he immediately realized something was wrong.
“Was it you who told me to take off my pants in the live stream room before!!!” Michael grabbed Gabriel by the collar, trying to lift him but failing.
“I’m looking out for you! Brother!”
“Look at this dangerous human world.”
Gabriel chuckled dryly.
He raised his hand and conjured a floating television in the air.
The screen lit up.
On the screen, a man in clown makeup was force-feeding motor oil into Amanadiel’s mouth, muttering, “Full synthetic motor oil, I love maintaining my mount the most.”
Amanadiel remained unmoved, guzzling oil frantically, his eyes vacant, clearly under mental control. He had even manifested several jet engines on his wings.
“…”
Michael knew Amanadiel was miserable, but he hadn’t expected him to be this miserable.
“I’m not as stupid as him.”
After a long while.
Michael swallowed and commented.
“Amanadiel has always been stupid,” Gabriel said, nodding in agreement at first, then added meaningfully, “but how can you be sure Father won’t arrange a similar tempering for you?”
They were discussing the omniscient and omnipotent God.
Anything was indeed possible.
“What does Father want from us… This isn’t just tempering, it’s a catastrophe.” Michael stared intently at Amanadiel in the screen, his eyes hollow.
His Adam’s apple bobbed again.
Silence spread between them.
From afar, the sounds of “biubiubiu” could be heard every day.
It was a gang shootout.
Apparently, they were fighting over organs and male and female prostitutes being transported from overseas.
“Not bad, this batch of goods is ours. Do you know how much gigolos sell for on the dark web? It’s much more expensive than selling parts!” The sound of the gang fight reached Michael’s ears.
He touched his smooth, tender skin.
Another few seconds of silence.
“Take me back… I haven’t streamed enough today.” Michael, as a battle angel, understood the need to weigh pros and cons, so he ultimately chose to back down.
“Wise choice, my brother.” Gabriel smiled, placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder, and with a flash of white light, only a briefcase and half an ice cream remained on the bench.
A stray cat passing by jumped up, attempting to eat the gift from nature.
“Dong~ Dong~ Dong~ Dong~ Dong~”
Immediately, the cat was startled by the suddenly ringing mobile phone – Gabriel reappeared, picked up the briefcase, and answered his phone.
“I did it, don’t come looking for me anymore… I just want to be alone and quiet.” On Gabriel’s mobile phone screen, the caller ID flashed the name 【Lucifer】.
He didn’t see it.
In the distance.
The eyes of a wandering old man reflected his appearance.
“Sigh~”
A sigh echoed on the street.
The old man, wanting to avert his eyes and ears, turned to look at the road, where a Hellcat, with no one driving, sped by. The boy inside was also on the phone, using half a mobile phone.
“Okay, okay, I’ll be there in one minute… I wasn’t driving illegally, nor was I speeding.” Ian adjusted the Hellcat’s dashboard needle from 220 to 30.
Even though the Hellcat’s speed didn’t decrease, Ian could now justify himself. By the time he hung up with Officer Beckett, the Hellcat had already stopped at the foot of Emerald Lake Apartments.
The red and blue flashing lights of the police car were particularly dazzling in the twilight. Several residents were gathered in the lobby, whispering to each other.
“This is a result I truly didn’t anticipate.” Ian took two steps at a time up the stairs and found Kate Beckett, arms crossed, in the corridor on the fifth floor.
“Honestly, I’d advise you not to go in. The scene inside is truly terrifying.” The female officer’s face was not well, showing a sickly pallor as if she had been subjected to some disgusting stimulation.
“As a reporter’s son, I want to be a reporter in the future, so this is just a necessary path for me. Trust me, no matter how gruesome the scene, it won’t affect my mind, but not finding the truth really makes me uncomfortable—please, I need to know the truth, I need to get answers.”
Ian exploited Officer Kate Beckett’s weakness.
She found empathy in Ian’s words, thinking of her own mother, a reporter who had died in an accident. After a moment of hesitation, the female officer led Ian into the door.
In the living room, a woman in a nightgown was curled up on the sofa, sobbing. The female forensic doctor was gently patting her back, and Ian’s gaze swept over the bruises on the woman’s neck.
“Miss Misha?”
Ian recognized the woman as Miss Misha from his school, who had once worried about his psychological issues and whom he had then tutored on many aspects of male-female relations as her student counselor.
“Ian? Ian Kent?” Hearing someone call her name, the woman suddenly looked up. Through her tear-filled eyes, she met Ian’s gaze. She seemed to not understand why Ian was here.
“I’m a crime consultant, like a detective similar to Sherlock Holmes.” Ian first explained his identity, but his abrupt self-declaration was interrupted by Officer Kate.
“He’s just the discoverer of the first crime scene.”
Officer Kate Beckett corrected Ian’s statement.
“Then I’m also a witness like Detective Sherlock Holmes.” Ian could always steer the conversation in the direction he wanted. After saying that, he immediately adopted a strategy of changing the subject.
“Miss Misha, why are you here? Are you and Dr. Hannibal in a relationship? I knew Dr. Hannibal, like me, always liked twenty-two-year-old girls.”
“Not too big, not too small, just right everywhere.” Ian was actually quite curious about the answer to this question himself. His Gundam-level high intelligence didn’t think Miss Misha would be crying here for no reason.
“Detective? Ha?”
Officer Kate shook her head speechlessly.
Miss Misha also quickly composed herself.
“No, Hannibal is my older brother. Someone killed my brother and almost killed me. They said they would cooperate with the killer’s torture, and only then did the killer spare my life!”
Her emotions began to break down again.
“Will Graham.”
Ian narrowed his eyes and uttered a name.
“It was him! Yes! It was him! I recognize his eyes! He can’t fool me!” Miss Misha’s voice was very agitated, filled with a hysterical hatred.
“?????????”
Officer Kate’s expression instantly turned dumbfounded.
“No, you recognize the killer? You just got here? How do you already know who the killer is!” She scrutinized Ian with an incredulous look, laced with suspicion.
“If the deceased was my psychiatrist, then the killer would naturally be Will Graham… Honestly, I am a detective, but even with my current intelligence, I’m somewhat surprised.”
Ian spoke words that Kate couldn’t logically follow and led the way towards the bedroom sealed off by the police. Hannibal Lecter’s corpse was suspended from the chandelier by his own intestines.
He had also been made into a piece of “artwork,” his chest cavity cut open, ribs folded outward like wings, and a spread-out 《Culinary Art》 placed in the cavity where his heart should be.
The most bizarre was his expression, his mouth sewn into a smiling grin, as if he were enjoying this death feast, the entire person looking like a meticulously arranged marionette.
“The killer was very meticulous, much more so than the previous work. He loved Dr. Hannibal, but Dr. Hannibal betrayed him, or at least he thought Dr. Hannibal betrayed him.” Ian’s fingertips brushed against the dried bloodstains on the doorframe. He suddenly noticed Hannibal’s dangling finger, seemingly pointing to a spot on the floor.
He rushed over in three steps, his fingernails prying open the floorboards.
“What are you doing?! That’s tampering with evidence!”
Officer Kate Beckett’s voice nearly blew off the roof.
“I’m solving the case.”
Ian replied without looking back.
“I didn’t ask you to do our job for us, but I hope you won’t text me every minute.” Officer Kate tried to stop Ian but found that he had already dug open the floor.
“That’s the work of my tech assistant, it has nothing to do with me.” Ian pulled out a map from the floor. This map was clearly the clue Hannibal had left for the police at the last moment.
It marked the location of a lakeside cabin.
“I think…” Ian raised the map and suddenly froze.
“Beep—Beep—Beep”
A faint electronic sound came from the kitchen.
Ian’s pupils constricted, and he rushed into the kitchen—as expected, a C4 bomb with a countdown timer was inside the microwave, the display showing 00:07 ticking down to 00:06.
“Don’t touch any equipment at the scene! I’ll call the bomb squad!” As Kate reached for her holster, she saw Ian pull out the bomb with his bare hands and sprint towards the floor-to-ceiling window, smashing through it as he leaped out.
“Ian!!”
When the female officer rushed to the window, she only saw shards of glass glinting in the sunset. From twenty stories up, where was the person? She looked around, but her vision was limited and she couldn’t see anything.
There was no explosion.
No roaring sound of falling.
A moment later, the female officer, her spine chilling and feeling like she had seen a ghost, heard a belch, and then, two small hands appeared on the window.
“Where’s the bomb?”
The female officer stared at the boy in front of her.
“What bomb? Officer Beckett, are you tired from working overtime? I’m just hanging out here to get some fresh air. Anyone who likes fresh air understands me.”
Ian, who had climbed back into the kitchen, attempted to manipulate the female officer, but the crumbs around his mouth were too conspicuous, making it difficult for the female officer to pretend she hadn’t seen them.
Ordinary citizen Ian? ×!
Master of self-deception? √!
