Chapter 169: Ian: Who Put This Crown On My Head?
Ian took the teacup handed by the Demon Butler and saved the opportunity to bestow grace upon Shiva for himself.
His fingertips gently caressed the rim of the cup, the steam rising, and the aroma of tea mixed with a hint of sulfur – a special brew from Hell that not just anyone could drink.
Only high-quality individuals who owe Ian a favor have the chance to taste it.
“What happened to your third eye?”
Ian didn’t offer the tea immediately. He merely held the teacup, letting the fallen deity watch him, which was a prime example of applied psychological knowledge.
After all, guests who arrive uninvited won’t cherish tea that is too easily obtained.
“My eye? Oh, right, my Eye of Destruction.” Shiva subconsciously touched his bruised third eye socket, his lips twitching as he became even more tearful.
“Your father hit it!”
Shiva was complaining.
“Oh?”
Ian raised an eyebrow.
The steam from the tea blurred before his eyes, making them appear even more surprised.
“Do you see why I only have two hands? If I hadn’t cut off my hands to save myself, I wouldn’t have been able to escape at all. I was almost found by him through this avatar!”
“Damn Super Vision! I knew aliens created monsters!” Shiva’s expression still held a trace of lingering fear, and his voice was full of indignation.
“My father doesn’t usually hit people.” Ian knew where his loyalty lay; he wasn’t even a casual acquaintance with the Indian deity before him.
Hearing this.
Shiva became even more indignant.
“He said I disturbed the wild elephants he was interviewing! And he didn’t listen to my explanation at all! I said I was a respectable god, and he said he hits gods who claim to be respectable!”
Shiva’s face was a mixture of grief and anger. It wasn’t entirely unexpected that he was beaten, as Clark’s mood wasn’t good when he learned he had to interview African elephants that morning.
“Then you didn’t fight back?”
Ian blinked.
He tried to keep his laughter contained within his throat.
“Fight back? I did, didn’t I tell you? I escaped after leaving two hands behind.” Shiva’s expression instantly fell, as if his sore spot had been touched.
He actually had a special plan for fighting back.
Truly an Ancient God.
“If it weren’t for that disaster caused by alien monsters back then, which incapacitated all our kind and greatly reduced our strength, my eyes wouldn’t be swollen from your father’s punch.” Shiva’s tone was filled with regret, firmly believing that at his peak strength, he could have withstood at least thousands of Superman’s punches.
“Then you’re very powerful.”
Ian nodded sincerely and gave a thumbs-up. Shiva straightened his back, displaying the unique confidence of beings from India.
“Of course, I’m the most powerful god on Earth.” Bragging requires no practice. If the bottom beam is crooked, the top beam will surely be crooked. Shiva clearly had a psychological tendency to believe his own judgment.
“I’m not surprised at all to hear such words… Alright, let’s talk about my older brother, Jonathan. Are you saying that my older brother borrowed too much power, causing you to feel drained every day?” Ian had a general understanding of the situation. He had already summarized the cause, process, and result from Shiva’s fifty-thousand-word lament.
In the end, it was all about God’s free will going too far.
“Is that borrowing? He’s stealing!” Shiva’s voice rose by several dozen decibels. He finally received the tea that Ian handed him, but he didn’t realize what karma he would incur by drinking a cup of Ian’s tea.
The deity, who symbolized fertility and creation, and held the authority of destruction and rebirth, spoke increasingly aggrievedly, drinking tea to calm his nerves while continuing to repeat another round of his lament to Ian.
Ian understood the content very clearly. It was basically that God gave Jonathan a belt, and Eldest Brother could indeed transform into an Armor Hero. However, Eldest Brother thought it was divine protection, when in reality, he was merely forcibly borrowing power from the gods he “believed” in — free will can have many interpretations.
The will to freely borrow power is also free will. Since the one who bestowed the blessing was an entity whose words were law, Shiva had no choice even if he was unwilling.
“Can you go back and persuade him? After all, it wasn’t me who ate your brother’s curry rice at night.” Shiva’s face drooped, his gaze at Ian filled with grievance.
The air suddenly became silent.
Hannibal’s ghost quietly drifted a bit further away, pretending not to exist. Belial, the chihuahua, and Demon Baal were similar; intelligent beings knew to play dead when discussing God and issues related to Ian.
“Cough, cough.”
Ian coughed twice, attempting to change the subject.
“That’s not important.”
He spoke sternly, feeling a little guilty.
Ian felt it wasn’t entirely his fault. Everyone knew that staying up late easily made one hungry. It wasn’t unreasonable for him to eat two bowls of his family’s curry rice after saving the Marvel Universe.
“How is that not important!”
Shiva jumped up from the sofa in a panic, his emaciated fingers trembling as he pointed at the air.
“Whoever ate his curry rice should borrow his power! It wasn’t me who ate it anyway!” The Ancient God was truly furious and indignant, looking extremely wronged.
Ian blinked.
He keenly captured the key information — it was evident that Shiva didn’t actually know who stole the curry rice.
“It’s different.” Ian realized the other party was bluffing and immediately became righteous. He shook his head gently, lowered his voice, and spoke in a serious tone, “The god who stole the curry rice has too many followers, and is petty. I can’t let my brother believe in him.”
It wasn’t that he felt believing in himself would be beneath him.
Ian was mainly afraid that Jonathan would complain to Dad and Mom. Besides, a bunny girl doesn’t eat from the nearby guys; he certainly couldn’t develop his family members into his followers.
Otherwise, family affection could easily sour.
“Many followers? Petty?” Shiva gasped, as if he had suddenly grasped some cosmic truth. “Hiss~~~ So it was He who stole the curry rice!”
He deflated like a pricked balloon, collapsing onto the ground, his eyes vacant, clearly recalling the most unprovokable existence in this world.
“Yes, it was Him. It was indeed Him.”
Ian nodded heavily, his expression solemn. He sensed the wonderful misunderstanding Shiva might have, and immediately employed the stratagem of going with the flow, one of the thirty-six stratagems.
The effect was exceptional.
Shiva didn’t suspect a thing. Both of them tacitly avoided mentioning that name. Ian, in particular, was cautious, not shifting the blame as directly as he usually did to others.
After all, petty people understand petty people better.
At this moment, Ian deeply perceived another issue: the Creation Goddess’s unrequited love for him was likely because God, not only in his love for writing but also in other aspects, was very similar to him.
Even their personalities were probably about the same.
In a sense.
God could even be called “Little Ian.”
Although this made Ian feel a bit wronged, he still displayed his magnanimity and decided not to fuss about it. Just as he was lost in contemplation of his own magnanimous spirit, Shiva suddenly sat up, lunged forward with a slide, and pounced to hug his leg.
The guy was openly weeping.
“You have to help me! Ian Kent! You must! As long as you help me, I can capture as many Indians as you want!” He seemed to be living in the last century, unaware that traditional slavery no longer existed in the 21st century. Besides, even in the last century, “Brother Three” wouldn’t fetch a good price!
“…”
Ian rarely had moments of speechlessness like this.
“Who wants Indians? What would I do with Indians?” He couldn’t help but hold his forehead in helplessness. “I don’t have a farm that needs scarecrows planted in it to fertilize my crops periodically.”
Ian had no dreams of being an agricultural tycoon; he knew he only wanted to be a technology mogul. Looking at the effects of the home appliances and furniture, divine power began to flow into Ian’s mind.
This was much more efficient than growing crops, spreading famine, and then coming out to save people, and Ian’s conscience, which was about five square centimeters in surface area, felt much better.
Seeing Shiva clinging to his leg and refusing to let go, Ian could only try to persuade him earnestly: “Asian Dance King, my brother borrowing some of your power is for the sake of justice.”
“Merit will have about one-tenth of yours, no, half of yours. So, as a god, you can’t be too petty. Haven’t you heard what MacArthur once said, ‘The peak gives birth to false users, and the twilight witnesses devout followers’? Faith is lost these days, and devoted followers like my brother are rare.”
Ian looked down at the creator of the Cosmic Dance, the master of destruction and rebirth. He was truly considering the other party’s interests; all the other party gave was divine power, while Jonathan had his faith taken away!
“Who is MacArthur? I don’t know him. He’s talking complete nonsense!” Shiva’s face turned green, his teeth grinding, and he finally squeezed out a sentence through his gritted teeth.
“It’s fine for your brother to borrow power to transform… but after he transforms, he accepts everything! Whatever outrageous wish someone makes, he says, ‘Shiva will answer you!'”
“Do you think I want to answer or not?!” Shiva became more agitated, his voice cracking with tears. “He answered prayers on my behalf, and my divine power flowed out like water…”
He wailed again, tears mixing with ashes, leaving pathetic tracks on his face.
This was indeed genuine grievance.
Jonathan’s free will had already acquired the universal style of America’s Lighthouse; the wronged party truly had no decision-making power, and he could even fill in for Shiva in answering prayers. Of course, Jonathan himself was definitely unaware of this, so it could only be said that the free will he possessed was indeed freer than free.
“Uh…”
Ian took a deep breath, trying to make his voice sound as gentle as comforting a heartbroken friend in a coffee shop. “I’ll think of a way for you later. Can you… let go of my leg now?”
This was Ian’s gentleness.
Of course, it was also related to how well he understood the nature of people who wouldn’t let go of someone’s leg once they grabbed it — such people couldn’t be provoked, or who knew what other part they would grab next.
As an expert at hugging people’s legs, Ian had a lot of experience.
“Really?” Shiva looked up, his eyes teary. His iconic ash-smeared body now seemed covered in mud, and his three eyes were filled with tears of grievance.
“Really, I promise.”
Ian made a decisive promise, then made a move that completely bewildered Shiva — he extended his pinky finger and hooked Shiva’s pinky finger.
“????????” Shiva stared at their hooked pinky fingers in confusion, not yet realizing whether this human child’s method of contract was effective for deities.
“So… what do I need to give?” Shiva finally calmed down, his divine rationality returning. He hesitantly and cautiously asked Ian.
Ian sized up Shiva.
From the third eye on Shiva’s forehead, to the snake coiled around his arm, to the tiger skin skirt at his waist.
“I heard you’re good at dancing?”
The youth suddenly broke into a radiant smile.
“Dancing?”
Shiva nodded blankly.
Then, he instinctively puffed out his chest, all three of his eyes lighting up.
“The Cosmic Dance was born from me. The Dance of Destruction, the Dance of Rebirth, the Dance of Balance… I am the dance itself.” It was clear that Shiva truly loved dancing.
And he loved bragging.
“That’s great!”
Ian beamed with joy.
“I have a group of streamers who need a dance teacher, and I believe you can train them well!” He didn’t care whether the other party exaggerated his strength or not.
Ian was primarily interested in his dance skills.
Ian didn’t know about Michael’s self-awakening, so Ian wanted to turn Michael into a second “Good Brother who practiced for two and a half years.”
Shiva breathed a sigh of relief. Dancing? This was child’s play for him, even a demonstration of glory.
He wiped his face, ashes and tears mixing. “Of course, this is not a problem. Ian Kent, you are indeed a helpful person as the rumors say.”
“Thank you for your help.” Fearing that Ian would go back on his word, he quickly got up and bowed. Then, he took the address given by Ian and looked back at Ian with a lingering gaze, entrusting him with his plea.
“You must help me…”
Shiva’s eyebrows seemed to dance, expressing his inner plea. The Asian Dance King truly lived up to his name, and Ian increasingly believed he could teach those angels well.
“Don’t worry, my word is my bond! If you don’t leave quickly, I’ll call immigration to arrest you. You definitely don’t have noble American residency! I mean citizenship!”
Ian waved him goodbye.
After Shiva’s figure completely disappeared.
A gasp came from the corner.
“Oh, Emperor of All Laws Ian actually has a brother favored by God! As expected! Following you! There’s a boundless future!” The “King of Lies” in the chihuahua’s form trembled all over.
He seemed to see his bright future.
“Poor guy… He probably doesn’t even know who he’s supposed to teach dancing to. Michael doesn’t just like to smash eyes; Shiva’s third eye might even be gouged out.”
Demon Baal’s head was hung by Ian next to the fireplace. He was experiencing a sense of pity in his heart, proud that he was indeed different from other demons.
Just then, Ian turned around, his gaze sweeping over the King of Lies in the corner and Baal on the fireplace.
“Now, we should think about how to help Shiva.” Ian didn’t want to betray his family’s interests, so he decided to use his external demonic wisdom.
Belial immediately wagged his tail.
“Woof! I can weave a grand lie to fool him for a lifetime!” The King of Lies puffed out his little chest, his words full of confidence in his abilities.
As for Baal, it pondered for a moment.
“Divine Being Ian, we could find Shiva’s main body and make him into a living statue for your brother to use—that way, he’ll never have a moving mouth to worry about losing divine power!” It had to be said, perhaps Demon Baal wasn’t very old, but in the path of demons, it was truly destined for a great future.
Two demons, one newcomer and one elder, offered completely different “help” plans.
The superiority was clear.
“Alas, this is not the help I intended to offer.” Ian merely sighed gently and shook his head, placing a hand on the Human Bone Piano with a hint of melancholy.
The old believer Baal immediately responded skillfully.
“Divine Being Ian, this sin will be counted as mine.”
Baal’s head spoke with a tone of devotion and caution, firm and unwavering, making it difficult to refuse.
In response, Ian said nothing, but quietly took out a few demon corpse snacks he had obtained from Hell earlier and stuffed them into Baal’s already burning mouth, like feeding treats.
“Shiva has a good personality, and after all, he is a god my Eldest Brother believes in, so… we must be kind to him. I believe that as long as he feels my kindness, he will one day choose to become Jonathan’s source of power.” Master Ian reprimanded the demons’ malice and displayed his benevolence.
He truly felt that Demon Baal was too cruel, which did not align with his values as a teenager. Moreover, Shiva himself could be developed into a valuable streamer.
How could such a high-quality Pal be turned into a statue just like that? Ian was also a thoughtful person with a warm heart, so he wasn’t truly so cold-blooded.
The reward he gave to Baal just now was to encourage the demon to ponder his intentions.
“Make him feel Divine Being Ian’s kindness? Alright, I understand!” Demon Baal didn’t know what he had understood. He had indeed practiced pondering “Ian’s heart” to a divine level. At this point, even Ian was unsure what thoughts the demon had come up with that he himself didn’t know.
“…”
Hannibal, who had been watching silently, his ghost floating on the ceiling, opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Ian pulled him down. After sending Shiva away, Ian turned and entangled Hannibal’s ghost again, continuing to enthusiastically promote his “Assembled Corpse” service.
“Doctor! Look at this stitching, how neat!”
He spun the assembled corpse around like he was displaying a limited edition figurine.
“Seriously, if there’s anything you’re not satisfied with, I know people in several morgues in Gotham, Metropolis, and Central City. I can get any style of body you want!”
Ian’s tone was full of pride in his extensive internet connections.
However.
“Actually, I have mysophobia.” Hannibal’s ghost finally managed to break free from Ian’s tangible little hand, his face pale, floating a tiny distance away in mid-air.
It was almost as if he had dived into the fireplace.
“Mysophobia?”
Ian suddenly realized.
He remembered that Hannibal indeed had mysophobia.
“That’s not a big problem, I can soak it in disinfectant, and even if the new body’s blood vessels flow with disinfectant, it’s not a big deal!”
Ian had clearly misunderstood the direction of his mysophobia.
Hannibal’s expression was like seeing someone brew tea with formalin.
“Hey, that’s not the reason.”
He sighed heavily, not wanting to completely dampen Ian’s enthusiasm.
“Huh?”
Ian clapped his hands again.
“You like them warm, right?” He pulled out his mobile phone, further showcasing his connections. “I know several Grim Reapers. I’ll go ask right now which hospital has freshly deceased warm bodies!”
As soon as he finished speaking.
“Ian!”
Hannibal was first surprised at how many strange beings Ian actually knew.
He then spoke with a heavy tone.
“The deceased perhaps should not return to the human world.” A rare look of fatigue appeared on his spectral face as he began to reflect, not just because Ian had chosen a body that didn’t suit his taste.
“Hm? Nonsense. Jesus didn’t think so back then.” Ian spoke righteously, quoting scriptures. This naturally left Hannibal speechless and unable to refute.
Just as the atmosphere became awkward.
Ian’s mobile phone suddenly rang with a cheerful Christmas carol.
“Dear Grandfather!”
Ian switched to a well-behaved mode in an instant.
“Are you calling to ask what Christmas gift I want?” His tone held a slight confusion. Normally, Sam Lane didn’t like to contact their entire family except during holidays.
The other party indeed had something to discuss. From the telephone, Sam Lane’s voice was so stern it could freeze lava: “Ian, has your father been neglecting you lately?”
“I’m calling to ask you why you’re acquiring enough chemical raw materials to submerge a small country.” This was indeed an exaggeration, as the chemical raw materials Ian acquired only accounted for one-third of what North Korea had.
“Perhaps because I like to drink it, I like to drink a lot, and Kryptonian genes allow me to become stronger by drinking water.” Ian honestly gave his answer, at least that was the philosophy he firmly believed in.
“Nonsense! You’re talking utter nonsense!”
The old General’s roar made the mobile phone tremble. “The ‘health supplement patent’ you declared is clearly a formula for some kind of serum that can create super soldiers!”
“The raw materials you’ve procured are enough to arm a real army!” Grandfather’s tone was stern, his judgment decisive. He held great power and was clearly paying close attention to the Kent family’s movements.
“I just wanted to reward myself, and incidentally reward aspiring individuals.” Ian blinked, feeling a twinge of guilt for having his little secret exposed.
He indeed needed a group of extraordinary doormen, cleaners, and logistics personnel. Ian had always been dedicated to the New Justice League, so he needed extraordinary logistics personnel for stability. After all, if the New Justice League headquarters was blown up by a jealous Bat, the compensation for ordinary employees would not be a small sum.
“Aspiring individuals?”
Sam’s voice suddenly became dangerous.
“Do you know how many secret meetings the old guys in Congress held overnight after seeing this procurement list? The Pentagon has already marked your file as a ‘potential national-level threat’!” Grandfather Sam Lane sternly warned Ian, incidentally leaking a piece of top-secret information.
“Don’t you still have me?”
Ian walked to the window.
Looking at the Demon Maids in the manor grooming the Hellhounds.
He lowered his voice.
And began to flatter his grandfather profusely.
There was a three-second silence on the other end of the phone.
“I’m just a General, not a Marshal.”
Sam’s voice suddenly became subtle.
“I can’t protect you right now.”
His voice remained extremely stern.
However, Ian keenly caught the hint of sourness and jealousy.
“Grandfather, why do you seem to have a problem with me?”
Ian tentatively asked.
“Of course I have a problem!”
At this moment, the old General finally erupted. “You’re using religion as a stepping stone to do big things, and you didn’t even inform your grandfather? Do you not trust me, or do you think I can’t help?”
Hearing this.
Ian felt increasingly guilty.
He assumed his “God Ian” faith implantation plan had been exposed.
“Well… what can you help me with, Grandfather?”
He asked cautiously.
The sound of paper rustling came from the other end of the phone, followed by Sam’s extremely hushed voice.
“Listen, kid. As long as you’re willing to pay – increase basic military subsidies, compensation for casualties, and improve meal standards – I can bring you a hundred thousand troops to help you in minutes.”
The old General’s voice was very low, as if he were sharing a secret with Ian.
“Ah? What are you talking about?” Just as Ian wondered what he would do with a hundred thousand troops, as he wasn’t a War God, nor did he have a daughter who had been sold into a brothel.
“Stop pretending! Ian, your grandfather has been a soldier his entire life. I’ve seen through all your tricks, and I’m fully capable of providing you with some assistance.”
“To be honest, although the time isn’t ripe yet, your company’s strategy of using seemingly outrageous but cheap daily necessities to win over the poor is quite good.”
“And subtly, you can influence the users’ thoughts. I have to say, with the widening wealth gap nowadays, you’ve found a real breakthrough.”
“Trust me, our system won’t last a few more years before it collapses. At that time, economic debt will bring a real winter, and that will be your chance to rise. I’ll have my intelligence agencies create conflicts in various continents, and you can then rise up in rebellion. Yes, a new America will surely be within reach.”
Sam Lane’s reasoning was clear and his tone resonant. This approach was indeed very insightful. Not all officials in America were blind to the situation.
However.
“Splat~”
Ian’s mobile phone fell to the ground with a clatter.
His Super Brain was always very useful, but it hadn’t reached this level yet. Heaven knows why Sam Lane was able to connect the function of Ian’s Greatest Technology Company to such a place!
He swallowed.
Ian finally understood.
His grandfather was currently just a General, but he definitely wanted to be a Marshal!
