Chapter 193: Interview And Angel’s Holy Song
Bruce Wayne’s wallet will never cry.
But the Richest Man in Gotham’s emotions are genuinely very good at roaring.
Of course.
Batman knew Ian really would go to the Child Protection Agency to complain, so he wouldn’t hit the kid. He clenched his fist, and his frustrated feelings ultimately turned into a long, unrestrained sigh in public.
“Huff huff huff~”
Breathing like nine dragons pulling a coffin rose and fell one after another. To vent his emotions, he simply sat in the wheelchair and smashed his fist into the nearby raised ground.
“Boom!!”
The force was controlled with extreme precision, not affecting anyone, but enough to make that already cracked ground completely burst open, with gravel flying and leaving a clear, deep fist print.
The wheelchair even slid back half an inch due to the reaction force.
Silent anger is often the most terrifying.
However, Wonder Woman watched with shining eyes from the side, subconsciously elbowing Clark next to her, muttering softly and excitedly in a volume only the two could hear.
“Fight, fight, fight.”
The Amazon Princess who had lived for many, many years was ultimately just an old woman deep down, and the excitement she loved to watch didn’t seem much different from ordinary Earth women.
She was fanning the flames.
“Uh, that is.” Seeing this, Clark’s scalp tingled, and he immediately stepped forward, blocking between Ian and Batman, speaking to Ian in as natural a tone as possible for some fatherly education.
“Ian! Shouldn’t you be going to school? Don’t you have that… very important exam today?” He tried to find a reason to send this little ancestor away, to prevent Gotham’s richest man and the Justice League’s financier from being angered into a cerebral hemorrhage. His constant winking at Ian with a stern expression showed his strong muscle control.
“Oh oh! Right!”
Hearing this, Ian actually looked down at the medicated watch on his wrist.
“Although I am already an indispensable core member, strategic advisor, and chief Outer Universe issues expert in the Justice League, I must grasp both social status and education—both hands hard!”
This is what it means to have a strong enough heart. Even with so many titles and strength ranking in Earth, Ian still remembered his original aspirations and didn’t betray his initial profession.
“After all, in our world, no education equals no future—this is common knowledge even Darkseid knows. Then I’ll head out first. League affairs are temporarily handed to you. If there are unsolvable problems, remember to call me. Batman’s uncle is always happy to rescue any of Batman’s friends.”
With that, he completely ignored everyone’s complex gazes, flashed in form, and “whoosh” flew away like a sky monkey, leaving a twisted trail cloud in the air.
He ran really fast.
Mainly because he saw Old Father’s fist clenched very tightly, almost raised. Ian knew this was called killing the donkey after unloading the mill—only calling others good son when needed.
“Sigh!” Clark looked in the direction his son disappeared, not subconsciously refuting Ian’s self-boasting about being an “indispensable member of the Justice League” for the first time.
Mainly he was afraid that if he responded, Ian would find a reason to stay and continue sustainably draining the pond to catch all the fish on Batman, whose mental state was already teetering on the dangerous edge.
“Although I’ve always thought your little son has a spirit that’s a bit… um, special.” Wonder Woman stepped forward, looking in the direction Ian disappeared, her tone carrying a complex sigh.
She paused, then added, even with a hint of relief: “But at least now he’s only focusing his fire on tormenting Bruce alone. On this premise, I’m willing to pretend he has no illness for the time being.”
No wonder it’s said about women.
Their thinking logic is just a bit peculiar.
“Diana, please, don’t stir things up anymore!” Clark painfully covered his forehead. He was actually used to it—there weren’t many absolutely normal-minded superheroes in the Justice League.
“I’m actually being serious.” Wonder Woman shrugged indifferently, her gaze turning to Batman whose face was black as the bottom of a pot, her tone becoming somewhat incredulous. “I’ve been shocked for a long time that Bruce hasn’t found a way to capture Ian and lock him up in Arkham yet.”
At this moment, a weak but clear voice came from nearby.
Injustice Superman, firmly locked by kryptonite handcuffs and leaning against the broken wall, weakly raised his hand with a deeply empathetic, frail expression, softly agreeing.
“I agree with that idea.” Among those present, the one who most felt Ian should go to Arkham was of course Injustice Superman, blessed by Ian with twelve babies.
Even Clark couldn’t find a basis to refute his agreement.
“Sigh!”
Clark felt the ruins under his feet heating up, embarrassed enough to dig out another Metropolis with his toes. Just then, Batman maneuvered the wheelchair with a slight motor sound, slowly approaching the cage holding the giggling Black Adam. His mask concealed all expressions, but his voice unexpectedly calmed down.
Even with a… very eerie calm?
“To be honest, I’ve always been quite reassured about Ian Kent.” Batman spoke, his voice through the mask showing no ripples.
He paused, as if weighing his words, then added: “—Except for that mouth of his.” At these words, everyone present except the still giggling Black Adam was stunned.
Wonder Woman sharply inhaled, incredulously patting Clark’s arm, whispering urgently to Batman.
“Clark! Did my hearing get affected by the earlier battle?”
“He says he’s reassured? Batman is reassured about someone? And it’s about being reassured on Ian Kent?! Is he lying to us, or has he finally been driven mad?!”
She grew more horrified as she spoke.
“The secret plan we discussed before, the 【Bruce Wayne Emergency Situation Therapy and Behavior Correction Center】 pre-built on Kepler 186f… shouldn’t it be activated early?!”
The institution’s name sounded nice, but no one present was stupid—everyone knew it was a preparatory confinement facility or mental hospital built for Batman.
Kepler 186f is an Earth-like exoplanet orbiting the red dwarf star Kepler 186.
About 492 light-years from Earth.
This planet is the first Earth-sized exoplanet discovered in the habitable zone of a star outside the Solar System, already verified by Clark as habitable for humans.
Of course.
No one would believe The Flash, who was “still late,” didn’t help. Hearing this, Clark’s embarrassment instantly turned to a bit of guilt.
He hurriedly lowered his voice.
“What Kepler 186f? I don’t know! I’ve never been involved in any alien mental hospital plan! Diana, don’t talk nonsense!” Clark felt Wonder Woman was the one driven mad by the stimulation.
Batman’s wheelchair silently turned, the white eyepieces precisely “looking” at Clark. Though no expression was visible, Clark felt that gaze piercing through his steel body.
“Heh heh.”
From under the mask came two extremely brief, temperatureless, dry “heh heh” fake laughs. Clearly, Batman had long known about the Justice League others plotting against him.
And even the location and general nature were crystal clear.
Making small moves in front of him, especially regarding his own “health,” these “friendly and harmonious” teammates were simply showing off an axe to Pan Gu’s door.
Clark’s face instantly turned tomato red.
However, Batman didn’t pursue the mental hospital issue, as his preparations were far more vicious than others’, so he pulled the topic back to the origin.
His tone still terrifyingly calm.
“In terms of reliability, actually, I think Ian is, most of the time, more reliable than Clark, or even you, Diana.”
Batman spoke seriously. Wonder Woman was completely stunned, looking at Batman with eyes full of pity and certainty that “this guy has finally gone mad.”
Ian Kent is reliable?
Doomed!
Batman must have died long ago, and this Batman is Ian Kent’s clone. Ian Kent might be able to casually create anyone like Ares.
Wonder Woman’s 【Ares paranoia】 showed signs of relapse years later. Just then, the distinctive low engine roar of the Batmobile came from afar. Lights pierced the smoke, the massive armored vehicle approaching like a black beast, ready to transport the cage holding Black Adam.
It was clearly a drone summoned by Bruce Wayne. The headlights swept across Batman’s face, illuminating his jawline hidden in the shadows.
At that moment, his expression in the interplay of light and dark was indescribable—a mix of extreme helplessness, chronic headache, and some extremely rare, deeply buried emotion.
Batman didn’t respond further.
Instead, he began loading the cage.
Inner emotions.
Perhaps only Clark with 【mind reading】 could slightly perceive them.
He could disbelieve Clark’s overly idealized kindness, Wonder Woman’s loyalty to humanity, or even the omniscient, omnipotent God loved by all.
But—Bruce Wayne trusted his parents.
If Thomas and Martha Wayne both thought that was an essentially “good” kid, then Bruce Wayne was of course willing to try believing it.
After all.
Those were his father and mother. Even if this trust required countless bank cards and blood pressure meds to maintain, Master Wayne never lacked money or medicine in his life.
With Batman’s control.
The Batmobile’s rear sprayed blue plasma flow.
The heavy body emitted a low roar, steadily lifting off. The special cage holding the sometimes giggling, sometimes dazed Black Adam was firmly fixed to the transport rack at the rear. Batman sat in the wheelchair, its base extending magnetic suction to perfectly dock with the vehicle’s top.
He gave Clark and Wonder Woman on the ground one last look, leaving no extra words, just an icy, teeth-gritted instruction.
“Time to go back and do some ‘preparations.'” With that, the Batmobile’s engine power surged, with a piercing whoosh shooting toward Gotham City like an arrow off the string. This Batmobile flew faster than falsified F-35 specs, quickly becoming a black dot and ultimately disappearing.
Clark and Wonder Woman exchanged a glance, both seeing relief and indescribable complexity in each other’s eyes.
“I’ll check on Bruce. And ‘settle’ this one.” Clark sighed, pointing to Injustice Superman suppressed by kryptonite handcuffs with still vacant eyes nearby. He really wasn’t reassured leaving the mentally unstable Batman to handle the hot potato Black Adam alone.
Especially with possible “aftereffects” left by Ian. Hearing this, Wonder Woman nodded, flicking her disheveled long hair, straightening her back to regain the Amazon Princess’s majesty: “Go ahead, leave this to me. Someone has to stay to help these eternally ‘punctual’ New York police officers clean up the mess.”
She also loved teasing New York police.
Clark said no more, picking up Injustice Superman, turning into a blurry red-blue figure chasing toward Gotham.
“I told you they were punctual.” On the ruins, only Wonder Woman Diana remained, along with New York police cautiously approaching to control the scene and clear the debris.
Soon, like sharks smelling blood, major media interview vans and reporters swarmed in. Long guns, short cannons, and recording devices instantly surrounded Wonder Woman watertight.
“Wonder Woman! What was the cause of this incident? Who is that strong man in the black battle suit?”
“Eyewitnesses claim they saw Superman and another similarly dressed but darker-colored person appear—is this true? Are they enemies or allies?”
“The Justice League battles an unknown enemy in New York again, causing such massive destruction—what are your thoughts? Will the League take responsibility for compensation?”
“Why did Batman leave in a hurry? Did something urgent happen in Gotham again?”
Questions came like a barrage.
Diana maintained a proper smile, though her armor was damaged and she was injured, her aura still full. Using thousands of years of diplomatic rhetoric and language art, she answered effortlessly:
“This incident involved a powerful individual from ancient times whose power temporarily lost control but has now been effectively contained. The Justice League is always committed to protecting Earth from any threats. Regarding compensation, specialists will follow up with the city government… Batman had other urgent matters to handle.”
Her answers were both official and vague, showing the League’s responsibility while deftly avoiding all core secrets.
Her expression management was perfect, as if she weren’t the one who just watched the excitement, whispering “fight fight.”
How to put it—she was an independent woman, an immigrant, a minority, even with a lesbian buff externally. Wonder Woman was indeed very suitable as Justice League spokesperson.
Not overly scrutinized.
Of course.
Not without media unafraid of those buffs.
“Wonder Woman! Our TV station just received an anonymous submission with alleged satellite real-time high-definition photo evidence! The submitter claims that today, again, a nameless ‘justice messenger’ stepped in at the critical moment to save the struggling Justice League?”
“Is this true? Who is this mysterious guardian?” With that, he aimed the tablet computer’s screen at Diana.
The screen clearly showed several high-definition photos—from the most intense battle moments: one of Green Lantern, who had finished and left, struck by Black Adam’s black lightning, smoking as he fell from the sky; another of Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth being forcibly interrupted.
Her own disheveled look being blasted away by the shockwave.
Of course, Batman was included—a snapshot of his wheelchair flipped by some force, him clumsily trying to stabilize.
Even Aquaman punched flying into a pile of rebar concrete in an embarrassing shot. Each photo had tricky angles, perfectly capturing the League members’ most embarrassing, worst moments, yet crystal clear—definitely high-end military satellite work.
And the capturer had great photographic skill.
Even AI images struggled to fake such realistic embarrassment. How to put it, Wonder Woman might not know Ian’s black box was indeed infinitely versatile.
“??????”
Diana’s perfect smile instantly stiffened.
The corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
The Amazon Princess felt a rush of blood to her head, thousands of years of demeanor nearly breaking.
She wanted to immediately pull out the Lasso of Truth and drag out that anonymous, self-proclaimed “justice messenger” little bastard for a beating! Of course, this was just wishful thinking. Diana still remembered the last time she wanted to beat that little bastard, and her divine artifact got defiled.
“These… these photos??”
Diana’s voice stuttered for the first time. She tried to stay calm, but her teeth ground: “The source of these photos is highly suspicious! Likely maliciously tampered!”
However, the reporter was prepared, immediately retorting: “But we’ve had three top-tier digital forensics experts remotely preliminarily verify—no PS traces! Pure satellite raw data! The anonymous submitter said if the League needs, he can provide more ‘wonderful’ moments.”
The words “wonderful moments” were the last straw.
Diana Prince, Amazon Princess, Zeus’s daughter, Justice League founding elder, long-lived demigod—her expression management completely failed.
Her beautiful face flushed and paled, forehead veins bulging finely—sacred Amazon veins. Those eyes that could stare down Medusa now filled with embarrassment and anger.
“That… anonymous…”
The final “bastard” was finally held back by her remaining sanity.
But her murderous expression, as if crawling through cables to kill, was precisely captured by all surrounding lenses, live-streamed to thousands of homes.
The next day.
《Daily Planet》’s front-page headline would likely be: 《Shock! Ancient War God revives to rule the world, mysterious anonymous savior turns the tide again?》.
Or perhaps 《Wonder Woman erupts on spot, heartwarming reason behind!》. Either way, Ian providing the news indeed captured art no less than the fist-raised moment of special no-spectrum’s assassination.
People were aesthetically fatigued by superheroes’ glory. But superheroes’ embarrassing moments— who knows how many youths would pay a US dollar for copyright to download as wallpaper.
Commercial genius is like that—never missing a moneymaking chance.
Little drops make the ocean, grains form towers.
Compared to Wonder Woman.
Actually, Clark and Bruce Wayne’s moods weren’t much better.
In one of Bruce’s backup Batcaves deep inside, filled with disinfectant, motor oil, and potion brewing smells—perhaps where Batman often used “medicated baths” for skin-absorbed enhancement and repair. Batman was settling the mentally sensitive Injustice Superman, while Clark handled containing Black Adam.
A specially made cell in the Batcave’s lower level for superhuman individuals. Inside, Black Adam was bound by a special energy field, sitting on a cold metal bed. That abstract consciousness journey and Ian’s “treatment” seemed to drain most of his energy, but the ancient king’s arrogance and malice weren’t fully gone.
Seeing Clark remove his shackles, he sharply raised his head, dark pupils burning with unwilling flames.
“This isn’t fair, Superman.”
Black Adam’s voice was hoarse, yet provocative: “You didn’t truly defeat me! That kid… used some evil means to steal my power!”
“You haven’t truly faced me yet—have the guts to release me, one-on-one, fair fight!” He had clearly learned the world’s basics before stirring trouble.
Clark preparing to leave paused at the transparent energy wall outside the cell. He didn’t speak, just slightly turned his head, those always sunny, gentle blue eyes.
At this moment, Superman’s eyes quietly changed—deep in the pupils, brilliant, molten gold-like colors began to diffuse.
Flickers of dangerous crimson danced within. He released no energy, not even glaring deliberately—just this subtle color shift and the intangible yet soul-trembling absolute power sense pierced the energy wall like substance onto Black Adam’s heart.
Terrifying, a pressure beyond physical, striking life’s origin, as if the universe’s weight would crush down next second.
“Ah???”
Black Adam’s remaining provocations stuck in his throat.
He felt his heart gripped by an invisible hand, breath catching. Ancient instinct wildly warned that this alien was terrifying.
Black Adam’s mind raced.
Next moment.
He extremely difficultly, minutely shrank his neck, momentum instantly deflating, voice dropping degrees, even with faint embarrassment.
“Alright, you misheard. I mean… I… I want a pillow. The bed here is a bit hard.” Black Adam showed his light-speed kneel skill.
Normally he’d be unyielding to death, but the situation now clearly wasn’t normal—Black Adam didn’t want to be a fool who croaked right after reviving.
Endure.
Endure.
Still endure.
Black Adam recalled the 【Dragon King Secret Technique】 from scanned modern literature he’d absorbed—he was more mature than that old ambitious one.
“Okay.”
Clark’s eyes’ gold-red quickly faded to deep blue.
He nodded, said nothing, blurred and vanished. Less than half a second later, he reappeared with a soft-looking pillow emblazoned with the bat symbol.
“No tricks.”
Clark shoved the pillow through the supply port.
Black Adam took the pillow, hugging it, expression complex.
Watching the terrifying Superman turn to leave the cell area, he thought, suddenly stood, pressed his face to the bars.
“Wait! Listen! Your kid is terrifying! He’s not what you see at all!” Black Adam’s face mixed fear and urgency.
Clark paused but didn’t turn.
Black Adam like grasping a lifeline, rapid-fired: “He devoured it! Devoured the darkness controlling me! Not defeated—devoured! Absorbed! I feel it! Even that mind-twisting dark power fears him! Is being assimilated by him!”
“I can’t imagine what evil he hides inside! Keeping him around is raising a tiger for trouble!” Black Adam shouted with lingering fear.
Clark slowly turned, face showing no surprise or anger, but an indescribable, very helpless complex expression.
“You mean like 《Dark Aunt falls for one-armed me》, or 《Great Darkness eavesdrops my thoughts, light widow gets mad》 level ‘evil’?”
These were Ian’s private little essays after his guts returned.
Black Adam naturally didn’t understand.
“??????” Black Adam was utterly confused. Dark aunt? One-armed? Light widow? What the hell?! What ghost things is this Kryptonian saying?
He opened his mouth to keep yapping, trying to sow discord between father and son—but next moment, Black Adam’s mouth was sealed by Old Father with leftover tape.
Superman super-speed vanished again, reappearing next second with the unused roll of silver wide tape labeled “emergency seal” from sealing Ian’s mouth.
“Mm?! Mmm mmm!!!” Black Adam panicked to retreat, but too late.
Clark’s moves lightning-fast, even with afterimages.
He yanked a long strip of tape, precisely slapping it on Black Adam’s mouth, then blindingly fast wrapping around his head!
One loop, two, ten, fifty… finally, Clark tied a dead knot, even slapping the now enormous, shiny silver tape head.
“!!!!!!”
Black Adam’s head, except nose, was wrapped airtight silver mummy-style, only faint desperate “woo woo.” Clark left, leaving only Black Adam’s muffled, impotent “woo woo” echoing weakly amid the force field’s hum.
Clearly, Black Adam was slightly inferior to Ian—he didn’t know how to grow a new mouth on his belly or arm.
Climbing the stairs.
Clark entered the upper core lab.
Filled with flashing screens and precision instruments. Injustice Superman lay flat in the center of a massive CT-like scanner, humming lowly.
Batman sat at the main console, white eyepieces staring at the scrolling, dizzyingly complex data streams on screen. Expression hidden under mask, but exposed jawline tense, and… Clark keenly noted Bruce’s temple sweating finely, even sliding along mask edge.
This was unusual. Bruce only showed such physiological reaction facing extremely thorny, even beyond-understanding matters.
Injustice Superman was more uneasy—he was Superman too, surely knew Batman. Lying there staring at the ceiling, voice faintly trembling, repeatedly asking: “How is it? Bruce? Am I… unsavable? What did that little bastard stuff in my belly?”
Batman didn’t answer, as if not hearing.
As Clark approached, Bruce sharply looked up, white eyepieces “at” Clark. Though masked, Clark felt the gaze extremely complex.
Even a bit odd.
“What is it, Bruce?”
Clark tensed—did Ian really cause irreparable trouble? Batman’s voice through modulator carried suppressed yet audible absurdity and frustration.
“In his belly…” Bruce paused, as if hard to say, “How to put it—highly condensed, pure angel power from a high-order heavenly plane.”
Clark slightly relaxed.
Angel power sounded not dark at least.
Ian got along well with angels.
Clark knew that.
However.
Batman’s next words stunned him.
“Clark, these angel powers are, in an extremely stable structure… constantly echoing… a pre-set holy song as if aiding life incubation.”
At “holy song.”
Batman’s voice noticeably distorted.
As if the word burned his mouth.
Under Clark’s puzzled gaze, Batman like resolving something, yanked off his data-cable-connected monitoring headphones, handing to Clark.
His motion carried “not going deaf alone” resolve.
“Listen yourself.” Batman’s voice full of fatigue.
Clark eyed the headphones, hesitating. With super hearing, he didn’t need them… In that half-second hesitation, his super hearing auto-captured and amplified a faint but real song from Injustice Superman’s body.
“Gourd Babies, Gourd Babies, twelve babies in one belly…”
