Chapter 163: The Great Darkness! Manor Secrets!
Ian was the kind of cleverness with double digits in intelligence. As soon as he realized the other party was someone he couldn’t afford to offend, he immediately wanted to forge a connection.
《Car dealership: The sales guide training 》 mentioned this knowledge point: a relative is always easier to deal with than a stranger. If you can connect with relatives, even distant ones, you can achieve a very, very good situation.
“I’ve dreamed of having an aunt since I was little! No! I’ve been dreaming since I was in the womb!” Ian’s eyes lit up like two little suns when the woman said Lucifer should call her “Aunt.” Benefactor Lucifer had a good relationship with him and they were already Twitter friends, so they would definitely become sworn brothers in a couple of years.
His logic was still impeccable and irrefutable. The woman’s expression froze, her golden pupils slightly constricted, as if she had seen an incomprehensible creature.
Her teeth ground together.
And the boundary-less Ian was pushing his luck further.
“Auntie~ I’m Ian, can you grant my wish?” Ian leaned forward, mimicking Madison’s nasal voice, and spoke with a voice so sweet it was sickening, full of longing.
“…”
The woman’s gaze became increasingly strange. She squinted slightly, her voice still elegant, but with a dangerous glint: “You seem to have recognized who I am?”
This was something anyone with double digits in intelligence could figure out. After all, Ian’s sudden attentiveness was too abrupt, and his eyes held only shock, no confusion.
“Of course I know! You are the only one who can defeat God, the great darkness, Aunt Amara—if you ask me, they must have switched me at birth, I need to help my father find his long-lost sister!” It was hard to imagine Ian’s address sounding so smooth and natural at this moment.
He had always been the thickest-skinned one in the Kent Family Home, and it was somewhat beyond Amara’s expectations that he could still speak righteously in such a brazen situation.
“You know who I am, and you dare speak to me like this?”
She was the one who found it unbelievable.
“What is this? You should wait until I’m eighteen to see how bold I am at eighteen… Alright, I won’t say you should do this or that based on my boldness.”
“That would be too frivolous, not fitting for a fifteen-year-old me. Just speaking of how the greater the storm, the more valuable the fish—you coming to find me must have a reason, surely my wish for a powerful aunt is finally coming true.” Anyone who knew Ian knew that when his voice was filled with emotion, he wouldn’t speak a single word of truth.
“What kind of child makes such a wish to Santa Claus on Christmas?” Amara obviously didn’t believe Ian’s words, and she looked at the youth before her, who had nothing but boldness, with a speechless expression.
“No, it wasn’t a Christmas wish, it was on Ghost Festival. I wished for a dark aunt on Ghost Festival, which is perfectly reasonable.” Ian stated that he never picked a holiday for his wishes.
“???”
Amara’s expression completely cracked.
Amara’s golden pupils contracted slightly, and the temperature in the guest room in Hell dropped sharply. The wailing souls on the wall fell silent, and even the bed woven from demon arms quietly retracted into the quilt.
Of course.
Amara’s emotions were no different from those demons.
She instinctively took a few steps back, and her dark long dress, as if influenced by her emotions, turned dark red, still undulating like lava representing the red temperature.
“Don’t come any closer!” Amara watched Ian’s restless movements, clearly having never seen such a brazen person, and was afraid that Ian would rush over and cling to her for the rest of his life.
“It’s not just that you like being a writer; your thick skin is also like God’s. I think the one who was switched at birth must have been Clark Joseph Kent.” Amara took a deep breath, trying to maintain her elegance. She attempted to use sarcasm to make Ian retreat, thus maintaining her sharp tongue.
However.
“If you say so…” Ian blinked, his face reflecting the logic of a logic monster, “Then I should call you Aunt even more, shouldn’t I?”
His expression was too sincere, as if he were merely stating a simple fact, not forcing a kinship. His eyes held no ulterior motives, only a longing for recognition.
“…”
Amara had never realized she could be so silent.
She had lived for countless centuries, witnessed the birth of the universe, seen the fall of deities, and even torn apart several overconfident supreme beings with her own hands—but she had never encountered a creature like Ian.
Hmm.
He was still a creature, wasn’t he?
Amara’s gaze slowly fell on the hand Ian was holding the pen with. The pen spun lightly between the youth’s fingers, seemingly casual, yet faintly exuding a power fluctuation that did not belong to mortals. The power was still nascent, like a just-awakened flame, flickering, but with a familiar sense that made her heart race.
Precisely because of this.
She couldn’t quite be sure if Ian was mistaken. It was all too similar; God also loved to create and was therefore obsessed with being a third-rate writer.
The glory emanating from Ian was hard to dismiss as someone else’s affection stemming from seeing a reflection of themselves.
“Do you think you can just claim kinship because you can’t confirm your origins?” Amara continued to try and make Ian blush with embarrassment through her harsh words.
Her golden pupils flickered with a dangerous light.
But the “underlying code” that made up Ian might not have contained such impurities. As it happened, Ian was neither rushed nor annoyed; instead, he thoughtfully stroked his chin.
“You can’t even confirm my origins…” He captured some key information from her words and, lost in thought, immediately seized the opportunity.
“If that’s the case, even if I were your child, you wouldn’t know? I see, my mother wouldn’t mind one more person loving me, so perhaps I still have a chance to call you…”
Ian’s eyes lit up, as if he had discovered a new continent. Seeing that the guy’s train of thought was about to veer in a strange direction, Amara, with a shocked expression, quickly raised her hand.
“Stop, stop, stop! Shut that evil mouth of yours!”
The air in Hell instantly fell silent, all sound sealed by the materialized form of this great darkness. The main reason was that Amara feared hearing that terrifying address from Ian.
Aunt didn’t seem to satisfy him anymore; he was truly too eager for progress… Amara wanted to teach him a lesson, but even the defiant her knew that when she had a request, she couldn’t easily bestow torture packages upon the other party. Moreover, from the cosmic information she had accessed.
Torture might be a reward for this boy. As for the choice of killing him, Amara wouldn’t consider it; she knew more hidden secrets than most high-level beings.
The entity of rules would grant this boy the right not to die, which included the influence of God’s actions, and this was definitely not just out of pampering or affection.
“Listen, kid, don’t try to claim kinship with me. You have no blood relatives in our world. And I, I can tell you where you truly come from.”
Amara took a deep breath and suddenly understood why Lucifer had his subordinates deliver the key, clearly having suffered from the boy’s familial entanglement and still being fearful.
There was no other way.
She had to get straight to the point.
However.
“I don’t need to know where I come from—that way my connections can have infinite possibilities! Yesterday I might have been Lucifer’s cousin, today I could be your nephew, and tomorrow I might be God’s long-lost son… Can you q God and ask him to say in front of the angels that I am his most trusted child?”
Ian sat cross-legged on the dragon-bone desk, swinging his feet, his leather shoes still making “owoo” sounds. Upon hearing this, the lava patterns on Amara’s long skirt momentarily froze.
“And, I’m very happy now. I don’t dwell on my past; I only care about our family’s future…” Ian’s sudden seriousness made Amara feel unaccustomed.
Fortunately, the considerate Ian didn’t continue to make her uncomfortable. “Are you really not considering becoming sworn brothers with my father? My father has great potential, truly the bearing of an emperor.”
He made a final effort. A demon head used as a chandelier on the wall “poofed” out a puff of hellfire as it chuckled. After being glared at, it immediately shrunk into a ball.
“Does your father know you’re arbitrarily claiming kinship for him outside?” Amara covered her forehead, trying her best not to give in to the urge to destroy everything.
“He’ll know I’m doing it for his own good. Have you heard of an ancient saying from the East… I mean, a phrase?” Ian looked at Amara with wise eyes.
“‘If you don’t work hard when you’re young, you’ll regret it when you’re old.’ It means if a child doesn’t work hard outside, their old dad at home will be in a lot of trouble—after all, I’m a very filial person.”
Ian spoke with such sincerity that Amara really wanted to slap him. The dark entity stared at this unyielding creature and could only sigh in resignation.
“Clever brat, you see that I have something to ask of you, which is why you dare to be so presumptuous, right?” To this question, Ian remained noncommittal, offering no direct response.
Amara looked at Ian deeply.
“How about this, you have a book, you have writing power, you just need a good pen. I can pull a pen down from the wall for you. It won’t be as good as God’s, but it will definitely be decent.” She was clearly trying to bestow kindness upon Ian to gain his help, so her tone was forced to suppress her anger.
Ian’s ears suddenly perked up.
“God has a particularly good pen?!”
He always managed to grasp the real point, the element that others didn’t want him to notice.
“Don’t even think about it. God values his pen more than his world. Like you, he’s an unknowing third-rate writer.” Amara could see through Ian’s little schemes, of course.
“First, I’m not a third-rate writer, I’m a bestseller. Second, how good is that pen? Can it write connected script? Does it flow smoothly?”
“Does God usually keep it behind his ear or in his pocket?” Ian’s tone was enthusiastic, as if he were a thief casing a crime, chattering incessantly.
“I told you that’s God’s treasure!” Amara raised her voice to emphasize, and the temperature in the guest room dropped thirty degrees. The lava patterns on her skirt began to churn violently.
“Oh, treasure is good, treasure is precious, I really want it.” It couldn’t be blamed on Ian pushing his luck, given that she refused to establish any blood relation with his father.
Altering bloodlines, that surely wouldn’t be difficult for the great darkness.
“Damn it!” Amara was speechless and finally couldn’t hold back. She slammed the table hard and exclaimed, “Let me out, and I’ll snatch God’s pen for you!”
This also directly revealed the reason for her presence.
“I knew you definitely wanted me to do something naughty for you.”
Ian had exposed her true intentions. He believed his intelligence was superior to God’s sister, and by extension, it was equivalent to being superior to whoever else.
He was just being modest.
“The point is to let me out!” Amara’s red dress billowed without wind, her voice gritted, and with her emotions, all the eyeballs on the wall exploded.
“But you’re already out, aren’t you?”
Ian remained unmoved, merely pointing at her complete form. Amara glanced at him sideways and reluctantly explained to the boy.
“This is just a projection of my will. In reality, my true body is still in the basement of your damned Kent Manor!” Love makes people say extreme things, perhaps that’s how it is.
Unintentionally, Amara started cursing again.
“Manor?”
Ian blinked.
The haunted manor that Crowley had given him? He was a little surprised but didn’t dare to agree. Being bold was one thing, but being reckless was another.
“You know, I’m a child~” Ian suddenly sighed, playing the minor card, and said with a worried tone, “I’m afraid God will spank me.”
Even though Amara glared at him with annoyance.
He remained unmoved.
He just started putting on a shamelessly poor performance.
“Damn it! You just wanted to steal God’s pen a moment ago!”
Amara gritted her teeth and said.
“I only thought about it secretly, I didn’t intend to commit a crime. Besides, if I could steal something from God, let alone get spanked, it would be worth getting hit in the groin.”
“Anyway, if it breaks, I’ll just tear it off and throw it away, and a new one will grow.” Ian’s logic was still as impeccable as ever, and his words caused Amara’s expression to change repeatedly.
The projection of this great darkness began to flicker. She suddenly leaned down, her cold breath brushing Ian’s ear: “Let me out, and I’ll give you everything you want.”
Perhaps time was short.
Amara’s tone carried a hint of urgency. However, Amara’s clumsy attempt at bewitchment was not as skilled as demons who had been practicing for two and a half years.
“Why don’t you ask Lucifer?”
Ian still delayed his response.
“Because you are different.” Amara’s figure began to fade. “Although your power is weak, your essence is closest to God’s. Your power is the most suitable universal key.”
A fitting analogy.
It made Ian feel incredibly awesome.
He felt her stern gaze and quickly employed the stratagem of delaying the enemy.
“Can I think about it?”
Ian felt that thinking for a hundred years wouldn’t be too long for darkness.
Silence spread through the room. The souls on the wall held their breath.
“Yes.”
Amara’s figure was as thin as mist. “But don’t disappoint me.”
Ian showed his most well-behaved smile.
“Don’t worry, in the end, I definitely won’t~” Ian employed linguistic artistry; no one specified what the exact “end” time was. It seemed Amara hadn’t been tricked much to not realize this. She glanced at Ian’s hand again, and then dissipated like the wind.
The blood moon, which had been obscured outside the window at some point, reappeared. After Amara left, Ian was about to try a skill again, but he was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Knock, knock, knock~”
It was Thomas Wayne.
The King of Hell was wearing a dark red suit today, and the gem on his tie glinted with an ominous light. He leaned against the doorframe, his silver-gray eyes scanning the room.
His nostrils twitched slightly, as if sniffing the information in the air.
“I sensed that the demonic furniture here has perished, so I came to see what’s happening.” Clearly, Thomas Wayne hadn’t sensed what had transpired here.
Ian turned around.
As expected, all the demonic furniture had withered. It was clearly the work of the dark entity Amara, who didn’t want other beings to know about their conversation.
“I broke these demons out of boredom.” Ian’s confession, thanks to his reputation, didn’t arouse suspicion in Thomas, but it did make Thomas imagine Ian’s methods.
He gave Ian a look that men understood. Seeing Ian unmoved, as if feigning seriousness, he immediately changed the subject to another important matter.
“I’ve already found your demon servant.”
This was indeed good news.
“So soon?”
Ian was somewhat surprised.
“Never underestimate the power of a King of Hell.”
Thomas chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. Ian nodded, gave him a thumbs-up for emotional value, and then asked where his trash can was.
Thomas’s expression became somewhat strange at this. He removed his tie pin and fiddled with it, avoiding Ian’s gaze. “Regarding that… the situation is a bit unusual.”
“Your demon servant has been captured by a King of Hell.”
This made Ian frown.
“Which Demon King is detaining him? Are they asking for a ransom?”
Ian was prepared for a big undertaking.
However.
“No, quite the opposite.” Thomas finally looked up, his face a complex expression Ian had never seen before. “Your servant… well… is quite formidable.”
“Formidable?” Ian repeated, the image of the head that only knew how to make witty remarks and roll around appearing in his mind. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same demon?”
Thomas took a deep breath, as if organizing his words.
“According to the intelligence I’ve obtained, your servant somehow convinced that King of Hell, or rather, your servant has already fooled that King of Hell, and is now packing to come join you.”
