Chapter 218: Ian’s Bloodline Remains A Mystery
Accompanied by Raven’s song full of humiliation.
“Dig, dig, dig in the little garden” became a magical background sound. Ian Kent finally dug down with one shovel and touched a hard, cold object.
“I found it!”
Ian cheered, the entrenching tool mimicked by his hands returned to normal, and he began to dig away the surrounding mud and gravel with his hands, as if afraid of accidentally damaging something with the entrenching tool.
“You’re quite concerned about that demon? So careful?” Raven also immediately stopped her “singing,” relieved with a sigh, and quickly came forward to look.
A few minutes later, a double-door large refrigerator that looked quite high-end but was now covered in mud was forcibly dragged out by Ian from the ruins of the Kent Family Home backyard.
The refrigerator door was somewhat deformed from the impact, but the overall structure was still intact. After plugging in power, the faint startup sound of the compressor could even be heard.
Don’t ask why it could still be plugged in. Without carrying hundreds of outdoor power sources, Ian wouldn’t feel embarrassed to say he has a follower who is Thor and electricity is free.
“See! I told you it was here!”
Ian proudly patted the refrigerator door, then forcefully pried open the stuck door due to deformation. Although this refrigerator still worked, as the saying goes, out with the old and in with the new.
He had secretly insured the entire house through the insurance company under Wayne Enterprises.
Because of this, broken things needed to apply for compensation, and unbroken things needed to be smashed before applying for compensation. The original new home was bombed and instantly turned into a wealth-generating scene.
After all.
Falsifying invoices was just a matter of moving his lips for Ian, who had a “full industry chain” and was committed to becoming America’s little industrial Cthulhu.
From now on.
The house gets bombed once.
The Kent Family Home can be like winning the lottery once. This is what is called foresight.
“Good, good, there’s still some freezing gas.”
Ian looked relieved. When he opened the refrigerator, a burst of cold air mixed with a smell slightly like sulfur and mint freshener hit his face.
The internal structure of the refrigerator was very unique. The conventional storage compartments had all been removed, and the entire refrigeration area was like an independent, reinforced transparent storage box.
In the center of the box, a huge minotaur head with curved horns had its eyes tightly closed, nostrils slightly opening and closing, emitting even snoring sounds.
As if having a sweet dream.
It was the head of the minotaur demon named Baal. As the guardian of the treasure here, he didn’t seem very qualified, but it wasn’t his fault for being negligent.
After all, the refrigerator contained food that Ian cherished very much.
Take two sniffs.
Even a demon would get dizzy.
“Sleeping quite soundly.”
Ian commented, then unceremoniously reached in, grabbed one of the minotaur’s horns like a shopping bag, and pulled him out of the refrigerator.
Demon Baal seemed completely unaware, still snoring loudly.
Ian casually hung this still-snoring demon head on the special hook at his waist, letting it dangle like a strange ornament.
Then, his attention was drawn to something else in the refrigerator freezer.
That was several pieces of chicken breast meat vacuum-packed and looking very fresh. Possibly because the refrigerator had lost power and restarted, plus being buried in the ruins earlier, it had slightly thawed.
This was the thing Ian had been careful with, afraid of accidentally damaging it—Raven seemed to realize at this moment that Ian wasn’t concerned about the minotaur Baal.
“Isn’t it just a few bags of chicken breast?”
Raven was somewhat confused. She didn’t think Ian was a thrifty person.
“This isn’t ordinary chicken breast!”
Ian cried out heartbrokenly, quickly took out these pieces of meat, tore open the packaging without a word, and stuffed a piece into his mouth to chew vigorously.
【Savage Tyrant Experience Points+7】
【Savage Tyrant Experience Points+11】
【Savage Tyrant Experience Points+13】
……
A series of minuscule experience gain prompts flashed through his consciousness.
“No matter how small the mosquito is, it’s still meat!”
While wolfing it down, Ian mumbled unclearly to the dumbfounded Raven beside him, “These are all hormone chickens specially supplied by my own factory!”
“Pure hormone cycle breeding, guaranteed absolutely no grain feed, no traditional feed! They grew up drinking Nine Dragon Power from young—super chickens!”
“It takes a hundred chickens to refine… I mean grow into one. Full tech, extraordinary nutritional value and energy purity! I definitely can’t waste hard-to-come-by things!”
He swallowed a large piece of meat.
Very enjoyable.
It must be said.
This explanation also revealed a situation—Jonathan that old man who loved stealing Ian’s chicken breast wasn’t without reason! After all, not every piece of chicken breast has this immediate muscle-building effect!
Perhaps.
At certain times.
In some corner.
Jonathan searched all of Metropolis and could no longer find this great tonic that just sniffing twice made his muscles grow uncontrollably.
“Smack, smack, smack~” Ian ate with relish, cheeks bulging, and added, “Mom taught me not to waste food.”
This was obviously trying to cover up.
Finding a reasonable excuse for his wolfing down.
“Uh…”
Raven watched him raw-eating the half-frozen chicken breast, her eye twitching almost like a vibration motor. She couldn’t help but carefully ask again, “That’s raw meat, right? Even if your family advocates nature and returning to primitive… it shouldn’t be this primitive, right?”
Miss Raven spoke very carefully.
She was mainly afraid that if she wasn’t careful with her words, she’d trigger something even more serious in Ian’s condition—up to now, she still didn’t know how severe Ian’s illness was.
Perhaps no mental hospital on Earth had seen such a complex case.
“Raw meat?”
Ian heard this.
Proudly shook the half piece of chicken breast in his hand.
He smiled lightly, the youth’s love for showing off fully displayed: “No, no raw meat. My family doesn’t have those messy ‘political correctness’ or ‘naturalism’ factors.”
Ian pointed to his throat and belly.
“Actually, it’s not your fault. After all, you’re just a demigod, without my full god talent.”
“Actually, it looks like I’m eating it raw, but by the time it reaches my stomach, it’s already turned into tender and juicy roasted meat!”
Ian’s explanation was dead serious.
“?????”
Raven’s bewilderment was from the heart.
“It’s like this.”
Ian seriously explained again: “My esophagus, like my other body organs, has its own ideas. It thinks its original function is too low-class, unworthy of being in my body, so with this inferiority complex, it evolved a baking function on its own.”
“From throat to stomach, constant temperature slow roasting throughout, locks in juices, brings out meat aroma, even does molecular gastronomy… Actually, this is clearly recorded in chapter 36 of Batman’s poignant tragic love! As the saying goes, art comes from life. The setting where Batman grills steak with his abs was inspired by this!”
Ian thought his work had sold throughout America.
However.
Raven’s expression looked like she was too far behind the times, having not read one of this century’s bestsellers—this wasn’t Ian bragging.
He hadn’t even bought his own books, but they sold like crazy, even making the tax department suspect he was laundering money with them.
“To think there’s a writer with the same condition as you… Indeed, modern people’s food is off, too many additives.” Raven’s mind somehow looped to food safety. Perhaps because she felt her brain CPU starting to overload and smoke.
Nonsense is a classic symptom of CPU overload.
Raven had really tried hard to understand, but every English word Ian said made sense, yet together they instantly didn’t, forming the strangest sentences, making her doubt if she’d ever truly learned English.
Esophagus… evolved baking function?
Batman’s abs grilling meat?
And that book that sounded outrageous?
Raven thought for a long time but couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the world. She decided to give up, worried her magic core would short-circuit from logic conflict.
Just like that, Raven forcibly shifted her gaze from Ian and his raw meat, landing on the demon head hanging at Ian’s waist, still snoring loudly.
“If you’re… full.” Raven’s voice carried fatigue, “Can we get to business? Start preparing things related to my father?”
She emphasized “business.”
The always busy Raven hadn’t wasted time like this in many years.
“Okay, no problem. What I’m eating now is just appetizer. Let’s welcome the real feast—don’t worry, you can’t beat Sangong Mo but Master Ian has a way.” Ian quickly devoured the last pieces of chicken breast, satisfied with a very long burp.
Action reference, roughly like Once Upon a Time in Love Apartment’s Zeng Xiaoxian. A strange mix of roasted meat and faint sulfur scent lingered around his mouth.
Ian clapped his hands.
Turning his attention to Demon Baal at his waist. He extended his index finger, lightly flicked the minotaur’s forehead: “Hey! Demon bucket! Get up! Time to work!”
The next moment.
Demon Baal jolted awake from deep sleep. His bell-like bull eyes first flashed confusion, then quickly focused on Ian’s face.
Behold.
Something that left Raven dumbfounded happened.
She thought the demon would curse loudly, but the minotaur demon’s face bloomed with a fawning yet sincerely joyful expression! Though just a head, he was extremely excited, trying to bow.
And began praising loudly and emotionally.
“Praise You! Great, supreme Emperor of All Laws Ian Your Majesty!” Baal’s voice trembled.
As if seeing the savior.
Even a cult leader would envy this.
“Your loyal, humble servant Baal misses Your light every moment! Waking to see You first is the abyss’s greatest boon to me! Your Majesty, without Your guidance by my side, every second is agony in eternal night!”
The flattery flowed smoothly, vivid and emotional, as fervent as a devotee seeing their deity. Crucially, with her rich demon experience and sensitivity to energy emotions, Raven could clearly tell—Demon Baal was telling the truth!
“????”
Raven’s mind crashed again.
Demons.
Not forced, not contract-bound, not fearful lies! He genuinely admired and revered Ian Kent from his soul!
This upended Raven’s understanding of demons! Demons’ essence is chaos, evil, selfishness, betrayal! They might submit to greater power, but never such… pure positive emotion! More shocking than Sangong Mo doing ballet!
Completely contradicting Raven’s years of demon knowledge!
“!!!!”
Silent for a long time.
Until Ian waved, casually stopping Baal’s endless praise, did Raven recover from the shock.
Full of confusion, she eyed Ian like an alien, finally blurting her inner turmoil concisely.
“How did you… train him?”
She couldn’t think of a better word.
Compared to Demon Baal’s performance, “training” seemed too mild.
“Very simple.”
Ian smiled profoundly.
He even gestured, manually twisting his mouth exaggeratedly into the classic “Crooked Mouth Dragon King” expression: “First, we must know demons are also life. As life, they have pursuits, dreams, love and longing for a good life!”
Hearing this.
Raven’s expression said “keep making it up, I’m listening.”
This didn’t affect Ian, who continued passionately.
“Just let them know following you means prospects! Future, good life. Good performance earns enough Ian coins for human world trips, even riding on angels’ heads shitting—that’s irresistible to every demon!”
“Yes, I’m that leader. Demons believe I can make Hell great again!” He got more immersed, eyes shining with conviction.
As they say, a lie repeated a thousand times becomes truth.
Ian fully believed his own rhetoric, his self-affirmation unassailable, like a top capitalist boss’s confidence. As his words ended, waist-hung Demon Baal shouted like a fanatic follower, shaking ruins with dust.
“Oh! Praise Emperor of All Laws Ian God! You are the only sun illuminating the abyss! MHGA!” Perfect call-and-response.
Raven opened her mouth.
Staring at the “sincere” human youth and excited demon head, she couldn’t utter a complete comment.
Her worldview needed a full format and reinstall. Finally, silently, she pulled a exquisite, magic-glowing portable energy detection instrument from her magic robe, aimed at Ian, and began scanning.
“What are you doing?”
Ian curiously asked, subconsciously cooperating.
“300 for touching my kidney, 500 for my pecs—oh, not there, not open yet.” He even quoted prices.
“Hm?? No higher demon bloodline?”
Raven checked, stunned.
“Is it possible that besides Kryptonian blood, everything else in my bones is personal charm?” Ian never blushed lying.
“…”
As Raven was speechless.
“Ding~”
Her mobile phone rang.
Billing information.
“!!!!????”
Raven stared at the outrageous items. Already not well-off, it was adding insult to injury. She looked at Ian dazedly.
Who can understand!
A maiden who hunts demons and has big tasks still needs to earn living expenses—how hard is that? How did half her savings get swiped so easily?
“How did you do that?”
She didn’t expect the fees were real, without her permission, no password, not even using her bank card.
“Used some Wayne Enterprises tech.” Ian’s scapegoat was either Luthor’s or Bruce’s group—this was another form of obsession.
“…”
Raven thought of Kent and Wayne relations, silently noting a grudge. The hard-earning magic maiden stubbornly raised her hand to cast again.
Not to take down Ian.
But suspecting his hidden bloodline was deep.
In Raven’s view, demons only instinctively loyally serve one existence—thus she now seriously doubted Ian Kent was just Kryptonian-human mix. Normal human or Kryptonian blood wouldn’t attract demons so strongly.
“I think I’ve guessed it!”
A grave glint in Raven’s eyes.
She knew Hell’s dictator’s character and rich tastes, so she suspected Ian was Clark Kent and Lucifer Morningstar’s child!
Yes!
Otherwise how to explain Demon Baal’s attitude?
Raven tried magic to probe Ian’s origins.
However.
Her usually infallible magic failed now.
Nothing gained.
“What’s wrong?” Raven frowned tighter, sweat beading. This was off—even if Ian was unknown powerful mix, her magic should react basically, not like scanning conceptual void now.
After long scanning, impatient Ian raised a brow. Seeing Raven’s serious futile effort, he sighed helplessly, in a “you don’t get it” tone: “Sigh, Miss Raven, this… is kinda freeloading, you know?”
Raven looked up puzzled.
Ian pointed to her instrument and magic array, then himself, righteously lecturing: “This is typical freeloading. Research me without paying? No such good deal. For my worth, at least tens of millions or a billion or two!”
“You can’t be too poor to afford it, right?”
He demanded hugely, with provocation.
“Poor” hit Raven like a precise arrow!
Truth is a sharp knife! Raven recently wasn’t as flush. Tracking Sangong Mo, preparing anti-father magic materials, maintaining concealment… huge expenses. Her wealth and resources depleted.
Ian’s casual truth broke her defenses. Uncontrollable blush surged to her pale cheeks and ears. Not anger, more embarrassed annoyance at the sore spot. She opened her mouth to retort but couldn’t.
Finally glared fiercely at Ian, sullenly putting away the useless detector.
At that moment.
“Ding-dong—”
A crisp tone from Ian’s pocket.
Ian pulled out his flashy, gem-studded mobile phone, swiped the screen to see the message. His expression turned… serious?
“Alright, enough chit-chat, business time.” Ian pocketed the phone, yanked the excited minotaur demon Baal from his waist like stuffing a basketball into Raven’s arms.
“Here, hold him.” Ian instructed, “Be careful, don’t damage him, or one Sangong Mo won’t compensate.”
Suddenly in unfamiliar arms, Demon Baal was confused, shook his head: “Your Majesty? What’s up? Not doing the great cause?”
Ian concisely explained: “Plan as is. Use you as bait to fish out his dad… uh, or your former boss Sangong Mo.”
“Then…” He paused, bluntly: “Eat him.”
Too direct, even Raven stunned.
She assumed the horrific plan would scare Baal. After all, Sangong Mo was supreme, irreverent fear to most demons.
However, to Raven’s shock, Baal’s bull eyes widened in astonishment, then turned to ecstatic joy!
“As expected! I knew this day would come!” Baal trembled in Raven’s arms, drool flowing uncontrollably from his mouth onto her robe, sizzling corrosion. “Great! Your Majesty finally acts on that old bastard! I knew following Your Majesty means meat! You eat meat, I Baal can at least sip soup… no, even sniffing or licking scraps!”
Raven: “???”
Seeing the drooling demon excited over eating his old master, she hurriedly adjusted, grabbing Baal’s horns to lift him, avoiding her robe burning through. She keenly noted Baal’s energy fluctuations were much stronger than at the school event! This status elevation speed was abnormal!
Could… this relate to his devotion to Ian?
A terrifying thought crossed Raven’s mind. She looked sharply at departing Ian, voice shocked: “How many demons have you… eaten?!”
Ian hovered mid-air, turned back with meaningful smile: “Not important~ Important is, prepare summoning ritual here. I gotta hit the warehouse, pluck some archangel feathers as insurance, in case we underestimate Sangong Mo and he slips— you know, archangel feathers, holy light energy top-notch, definitely suppresses demons, then shut the door and beat the dog… uh, shut the door and beat dad easier!”
Finished, before Raven reacted, Ian’s energy surged, “whoosh” into a streak of light toward city outskirts, vanishing in the sky.
Raven held drooling Baal, standing dazed and confused.
“He even… knows archangels?”
Raven muttered.
Ian’s demeanor didn’t seem like someone communing with heavenly forces or having a holy soul—opposite of angelic virtue.
Held Baal heard, snickered mockingly in old demon tone like BJ accent: “Hmph! Ignorant! You don’t know Ian God! Knows? That equal relation unworthy of His Majesty!”
Baal’s voice full of pride and awe: “Ian God doesn’t know angels—he farms them! In his blood-sweat factory! Don’t say I didn’t warn you! Respect Ian God! Or next in the fridge is you!”
“Farms… angels?” Raven’s brain crashed again. More outrageous than Sangong Mo tap-dancing!
No truth from this demon’s mouth.
“You messing with me?”
Recovering, Raven flushed red, swung other hand with pure magical energy, slapping chatty Baal hard!
“Smack!”
After crisp sound, Baal spun dizzily, soul pain making him shut up and self-isolate.
No more words.
Of course, his bull eyes still gleamed with longing for “scraps.”
Meanwhile, Ian landed outside a large factory in an unremarkable, rundown industrial park on Metropolis outskirts.
Just landed, he saw little punk girl Madison holding a tablet computer, arrogantly directing uniformed workers unloading goods from battered big trucks.
This moment.
Even Ian was stunned.
“No, I told you to save money, and you feed angels this?” Few could shock Ian so.
Little punk girl was one.
No way around it.
How could Ian not be shocked?
Even he couldn’t imagine this saving and generating income—look at those food boxes, stamped with blurry Russian labels and iconic pattern.
Definitely old Soviet stock.
Older than Ian’s grandfather possibly.
Ian was a capitalist, somewhat conscientious, but Madison had real entrepreneur style—even zombie meat can’t be this zombified, right!
