Chapter 93: Leveling Up! Still Damn Leveling Up!
Today.
The sun is shining brightly.
The wind is gentle and the weather is pleasant.
However.
The Minotaur Demon felt that he had never been so on tenterhooks in his life.
Real Hell.
Nothing more than this.
The previous one he stayed in might have been fake Hell.
“Let me go, let me go.” The futile struggle using facial muscles was in vain. Ian skillfully squeezed the Demon Head like toothpaste, aiming it at the fuel tank opening.
“I have no Demon Blood! Please… don’t do this.” No wonder they say Demons love to lie; the mouth is dishonest, but the “mountain flood” bursting from the broken neck couldn’t fool Ian’s eyes.
Amid the Demon’s screams.
The fuel tank made “gurgle gurgle” swallowing sounds.
No one knows what principle this is based on; neither it nor they are scientific, but that doesn’t affect how reasonable they all are. At least Ian felt no surprise at all.
The book World’s Unsolved Mysteries holds a high place in his heart.
So.
Unexplainable things can just be categorized there, giving them a reasonable origin. Ian has always handled things he doesn’t understand this way from childhood to now.
Oil is precious, but human pulp is even more valuable.
For Demon Blood’s sake, both can be discarded.
In Ian’s view, his newly bought Hellcat having such a unique taste isn’t trouble at all; it’s a cost-effective choice. The Demon Head is magically like a sponge.
No matter how hard you squeeze it, it seems there’s always some residue left. Demons’ descendants may not be endless, but Demon Blood is clearly available in any quantity needed.
“I have not a drop left!”
The Demon’s wailing voice was still full of vigor.
“There’s more, there’s more, MacArthur… uh, anyway, I heard someone say that Demon Blood, even if you take half, will never run out for generations.” Ian naturally wouldn’t believe the Demon’s lie.
For refueling the small car, both veteran drivers and newbies know to fill it up in one go; otherwise, the Mexicans next door will laugh at Free America’s people for not being able to afford fuel.
“What fuel I use is my call; that’s fuel freedom in the free democratic world.” Ian found solid legal support for his behavior.
Only when Hell residents are hurt has the world been achieved.
Just exploiting a Demon.
Since the Demon isn’t America’s legal citizen, just an identity-less illegal immigrant from Hell to America, Ian’s exploitation of it can only be seen as following the main melody.
“I’ve always said I’m good at adapting to environments; my nickname should be Doctor Darwin.” Ian filled up the fuel and casually tossed the wrinkled, lifeless Demon Head back into the backpack.
Of course.
Though he had wiped clean the Demon’s No. 66 fueling tube, its wailing was too heartbreaking. For the backpack’s cleanliness and hygiene, a few sanitary napkins definitely needed to be padded underneath.
Just a convenience store on the street.
“What’s crying?”
The cashier’s ears are sharp.
“Nothing, I’m listening to a song.”
Ian’s expression was calm and composed, with no suspicion at all, and he wasn’t worried about running into an Animal Protection Organization. He had checked on his mobile phone; Demons aren’t on the Animal Protection Organization’s protection list.
America has its own national conditions.
Projects with no profit are basically ignored by the Animal Protection Organization.
Even if the Demon Head rolled to the Animal Protection Association’s door, it wouldn’t successfully complain; it would only end up with the stray person representative Donut Wang Wei Heng squatting in the corner.
On social rules, Ian has had it all figured out since age eight. As he said, setting aside life threats, he really is good at adapting to environments.
“Do you buy sanitary napkins for your girlfriend? Such a good boy is rare.” The convenience store cashier likes to chat, but as a multimillionaire, Ian felt he should have the face of a rich man.
“No, it’s reserve happy cups for my older brother.” Ian tried to be terse like elites, raising his hand, but unfortunately, there was no watch on his wrist to check the time.
But this didn’t stump him.
It was just a matter of borrowing a pen to doodle.
“Your speaker song stopped… Player out of battery?” Taking back the pen lent to Ian, the cashier’s brain wasn’t the sharpest; he hadn’t figured out what Ian was saying after half a day.
Happy cups are usually paired with tissue, right?
Needing sanitary napkin equipment.
Could this world really have naturally gifted squirting warriors?
The cashier pondered thoughtfully.
He seemed to recall plots from some bizarre movies he secretly watched at midnight.
“Not out of battery; my player was just a bit scared by me.” Ian got the desired effect, stopping short without further intimidating the Demon Head.
After all, he’s a kind-hearted good person.
“Oh oh.”
The cashier didn’t quite get it.
Ian stuffed the sanitary napkins into the backpack and walked out the door back to the open space where his test drive car was parked—he definitely profited; the Dodge Hellcat is the title for high-performance models under America’s Dodge brand.
Famous worldwide for its ferocious power and American muscle car cultural concept.
Ian’s is the even more extreme Demon version; true to its name, large displacement, rear-wheel drive, strong straight-line acceleration, a typical representative of “horsepower is justice.”
“I’m a small car from Hell~ I’m a murderous small car~”
“The murderous small car races madly~”
“Nine people all deserved it; I’m not an ordinary small car, I’m a avenger~”
……
As Ian approached the Hellcat, the small car’s radio was playing a song, and the exhaust pipe rhythmically spewed blue flames smelling of sulfur.
The lyrics are hype.
It’s also hyped up.
Clearly, the Hell Demon Blood suited it greatly.
Obviously a boar that never tasted fine urine.
“Nine soul rings, collect the seven deadly sins; the remaining two soul rings, one for disrespect using your steering wheel to put out cigarette butts, the other filling your fuel tank with soybean oil?”
No wonder songs touch the heart.
Ian sensed the emotion it wanted to express.
“Listen, buddy.” Ian spoke like a life mentor from TV, “Killing is wrong; even if they offend you, you can only send them to prison.”
“Only after I build a prison in Hell can you send people there… that’s the no-kill principle, got it? I’ve met Batman; you definitely haven’t.”
Ian knew he met a morally crooked, sinful-minded, ruthless small car, but he firmly believed he could one day reform it and make it a car again.
“Amen~”
The Hellcat’s radio suddenly switched to a Christian station.
Like it was somewhat moved.
“That’s right!”
Ian nodded contentedly. “When you’re excellent enough, kind enough, worthy of my second generation holy soul, I’ll ask Teacher Tony to teach me how to evolve you into a Transformer.”
He made the promise.
A mature multimillionaire has known since childhood how to be a good pie-in-the-sky capitalist.
See.
“Thank you~~”
The Hellcat switched to a novelty artist thanking the audience station.
The body shook excitedly.
Clearly it has good taste and is experiencing PUA for the first time in its life. The Hellcat’s four car doors opened automatically; Ian plopped into the passenger seat.
“This will be Ian’s exclusive seat from now on.” Ian buckled up, and the seat automatically adjusted to the most comfortable angle; on the passenger dashboard in front, a line of sculpted text slowly appeared.
【Ian Exclusive】
The calligraphy from letters was quite elegant.
Ian was extremely satisfied.
This was the ideal ride he heard about in his dreams, in poet Pound’s poetry.
“Depart! Street prowler!”
Ian gave the order.
The Hellcat shot out like an arrow off the string.
What is smart driving? This is smart driving! The Hellcat weaved through traffic like a black mamba snake; Ian even felt he heard echoes from “man”‘s old friends.
“Vroom vroom vroom~”
The engine roared.
Though it’s a wild car, it clearly has a gentle side too; even amid speed and passion, it still obeyed traffic rules and didn’t run red lights.
“Yes, yes, obey traffic rules starting with you.”
Ian felt his murderous small car might really be salvageable and could receive God’s forgiveness—here one should believe in God, because believing in Father God would probably send his love car to scrap.
Ian enjoyed the superior smart driving experience; outside the window, Metropolis’s daytime harmonious society flashed by, with endless tensions between homeless people and urban elites.
“Give me back my bag!”
“Lady! Look at my skin color!”
“Help! If you don’t let go! I’ll call Superman!”
“Damn it! Even so, I’ll take this bag gifted by nature—I’m a gambler, so I bet Superman’s life isn’t as valuable as mine!”
“I’ll win!”
……
A sight for sore eyes.
Metropolis’s daily life is always like this.
Ian appreciated the scenery only seen in America.
He had no intention of getting out to stop it; in a survival-of-the-fittest society, the weak can’t keep their bag. Natural law is vividly embodied in this country.
Save one.
Can’t save all.
A bag bought from a black person, recycled back by a black person; Ian as second generation Superman also can’t stop this market rule. Hayek’s invisible hand will know how to regulate itself.
“Stop!”
Until the police siren shattered this “enlightenment” moment, Ian withdrew his gaze from the scenery. Facing the police, the Hellcat also chose to obey the law.
It perhaps loves obeying the law just like Ian.
“You again! Stan Lee, right?” The familiar traffic police walked over with a stern face, tapping the window; from the empty driver’s seat window, he saw Ian steadily in the passenger seat.
Ian remembered this face—the culprit from the last fire hydrant incident.
“Driver’s license.”
The traffic police eyed Ian’s new car with some envy.
Voice stern.
“Suspended.”
Ian often blinks when lying.
Hearing this.
The traffic police showed an “as expected” expression; he still remembered Ian’s driving performance clearly. “Good, sorry to inform you, you might be arrested by me.”
He pulled out his handcuffs, gesturing for Ian to get out.
“I wasn’t driving; the car moved itself. Do I need a driver’s license?” Ian sat steadily in the passenger seat, full of confusion; he just felt America’s traffic police IQ needed improvement.
“No tricks!”
The traffic police sneered coldly.
“You definitely saw me and sneaked over; I’ve seen plenty like you!” The traffic police’s hand touched his pistol, a warning to Ian.
“I don’t believe it; people like me are one of a kind on Earth. How could you meet a second?” Ian retorted while patting the Hellcat’s dashboard.
The Hellcat car understood.
It immediately reverse-parked into a spot then parallel parked, finally bouncing up and down like disco dancing twice to show off its brand-new powerful performance.
“!!??”
The traffic police was dumbfounded.
This wave really hit his professional blind spot; the ticket in hand unsure if to issue, the handcuffs already out seemed bound by professional ethics and went back.
“Oh, the crossroad ahead is green.”
Ian watched forward.
The next moment, the Hellcat “whoosh” shot away, leaving the traffic police in place doubting life, guessing if this was some large technology company’s unmanned driving test.
“Taxi drivers are going unemployed?”
The traffic police rubbed his eyes; he saw the Hellcat’s rear license plate constantly changing—Hellcat is a cat, naturally with a Schrödinger-like license plate number.
“Am I seeing things?”
The traffic police had pulled out his walkie-talkie to ask colleagues, but at this moment, he felt guilty and after hesitating put down the comms device.
“Am I still in bed now? But why would I dream of still working? This isn’t right… maybe, just maybe, I’m just a brain in a vat.”
The traffic police became an abstract philosopher.
He doubted life so much.
Besides not daring to believe what he saw.
Also related to Free America’s characteristics; when traffic police search illegal leaves, most end up vanishing.
As for where they fly to.
That’s a question not to be mentioned.
Anyway, God definitely knows.
……
Bidding farewell to the traffic police.
The Hellcat’s engine let out a joyful roar.
Blue flames from the exhaust pipe scorched marks on the asphalt.
A sunny day.
Of course needs some sunny activities.
“I want to go to a site with lots of military-controlled chemicals transactions, best if they’re lax on law, don’t pay taxes, not even protected by the tax bureau.” Thinking of holiday leveling, Ian first tasted the goodness brought by 【perfect divinity】 and directly gave his navigation prompt.
Smart people believe their smart small car can understand.
Facts proved it so.
“You hate the sin~〔You hate that sin〕”
“You hate the temptress in the bottle~〔You hate the woman in the bottle tempting him〕”
……
Mature small cars switch songs themselves.
It floored the accelerator toward the suburban abandoned factory. As tires crushed the “No Entry” sign, Ian noticed the odometer on the dashboard counting backward.
This car has a heart yearning for youth.
“Banned fighter?”
Ian was very surprised.
However.
He had no time to judge his twelve-hand car’s gender, because the Hellcat that seemed able to track illegal crime info had already brought him into the illegal site.
Inside the abandoned factory.
A bald man in military uniform was trading with his thugs and several Bear Country strong men.
A classic scene.
“Here’s the goods.”
The silver briefcase of the military uniform bald head neatly held ten blue potions.
The label boldly printed 【Simulated Superman Serum〔Does not contain Kryptonian Gene）】. Obviously no Superman inside, but possibly real serum.
Advertising law was unprecedentedly respected here.
Of course.
Still illegal dealings.
Illegal dealings mean no legal protection.
Meaning Ian could choose his transaction method. For this, Ian didn’t even need inequalities; after a quick assessment, he solved the problem instantly.
“Five hundred thousand, no haggling.” The military uniform man wiped sweat, looking around vigilantly. “Though success rate is only 1%, still more reliable than your 【God Plan】 project.”
His words furrowed the Bear Country strong men’s brows.
“Our project doesn’t need you Americans judging!” The Bear Country strong man glared angrily, while the deal-desperate military uniform bald head shrugged helplessly.
“Fine, I don’t care about that.”
With that, the military uniform bald head was about to have his men inspect the goods.
And at that moment.
“Vroom vroom vroom~”
The Hellcat crashing through the iron gate interrupted the trade. In the dust cloud, Ian wearing flesh-colored stockings got out; unable to find a leather jacket, he pretended to have one.
“I smell the scent of sin!”
In the low voice.
Ian had just pulled out his lighter to cross-world top up as Ghost Rider.
“Rat-tat-tat-tat~”
The ruthless talk-less villains wouldn’t give him the chance; the Bear Country men drew guns and fired without a word, bullet storm enveloping Ian’s whole body.
【You attempt to learn catching bullets with hands, 【student】 profession experience points +1】
【You attempt to learn catching bullets with hands, 【student】 profession experience points +1】
【You attempt to learn catching bullets with hands, 【student】 profession experience points +1】
……
Ian just sneered contemptuously.
His waving hands dazzled the eyes in the air; student profession experience points increased madly. When the military uniform man’s team also started shooting, Ian’s hands were nearly afterimages.
【You attempt to learn catching bullets with hands, 【student】 profession experience points +1】
【You attempt to learn catching bullets with hands, 【student】 profession experience points +1】
……
A very successful leveling session.
“I knew I could do it.” Ian opened his palms; two handfuls of deformed bullets clinked to the ground. The first success made his mood especially pleasant.
“Firearms, nothing special.”
Ian tried to replicate Dragon King’s crooked smile.
The air was very quiet.
The illegal villains were stunned speechless; the military uniform bald head’s group and Bear Country strong men were all terrified, trembling and pale-faced.
The wind blew gently.
Swallowing sounds followed one after another.
“Is he human or ghost?”
The Bear Country strong man looked terrified.
“I… I don’t know…” The military uniform bald head’s voice trembled too; he tried retreating behind the Bear Country strong men, but they pushed him forward.
No choice.
The military uniform bald head could only drop his empty-magazine weapon.
“You… how are you not dead?”
The military uniform bald head shakily addressed Ian.
He’s seen a lot, even Superman’s power, but even witnessing Superman’s steel body didn’t stir his heart as violently as now.
“Heroes don’t die bare-handed, so of course I won’t die.” Ian followed their gazes, looked down at his body, then quickly turned his back to everyone.
“Your bullets are all caught by me; I won’t die at all.” Ian said while secretly yanking out bullets guiltily; about seven or eight hundred were stuck in his muscles.
Some blood flowed out.
But bullets only penetrated the skin layer.
【Berserker experience points +1】
Such little gain is the best proof the injury was too minor.
Facts still prove Ian is a tiny bit short of true bulletproof—low-level Iron Body only gives Ian’s body cold weapon era invulnerability.
Forty times normal physical quality is far from invincible.
Not enough to completely ignore large-caliber rifles or submachine gun sprays as many think. Human tech crystals still deserve a bit of respect.
“Actually just a tiny bit short; my capillaries aren’t prominent enough.” Ian felt no pain earlier, so he believed his future was promising.
“That was just scary-looking; do it again, I guarantee better performance this time.” Ian used the unused sanitary napkins to wipe blood off his face.
He tried to farm mobs again.
But not all bad guys are idiots.
“Run!”
The military uniform bald head reacted extremely fast.
He had realized.
This was more than just encountering a superhuman. Everyone snapped to, scattering like birds and beasts; Bear Country strong men even dropped weapons to lighten load.
But.
All futile. They were clever, but Ian was cleverer; purely relying on physical quality to force super speed, one punch each knocked them all down.
The military bald head running last ate Ian’s fierce tiger pounce.
Instantly fell into dog-eating-shit shape.
Dragged back by Ian holding his leg to the transaction site.
“Done, wrap up; this wave’s performance counts on my family.” Ian doesn’t like killing to silence, because without looking up, he knows there are two suns in Metropolis’s sky.
So.
After weighing.
Ian decided to add some weight to his student career.
He really hoped since childhood his grandfather would work harder, crazily promote before his college graduation, qualifying him to pen 【My Five-Star General Grandfather】 this epic masterpiece.
“Hello? General Ryan?” While tying up all the passed-out villains, Ian pulled out his mobile phone and dialed a number.
“I’m a superhero unwilling to reveal his name, likes delivering blessings; here, your blessing arrived. I accidentally caught people stealing and selling military supplies plus illegal entrants.”
“Who am I? How I know your private number? Not important; said I won’t reveal name—yes, I’m drinking something; afraid if not now, none later.”
Ian had tried his best with his expert voice-changing skills.
【Savage Tyrant experience points +3】
【Savage Tyrant experience points +2】
……
【Savage Tyrant lv3〔1/40〕】
He chugged enhancement potions.
Finally leveled up again.
【Strength: 22.1————23】
【Constitution: 41.5————44】
【Intelligence: 3.2————3.3】
【Spirit: 7.7————7.9】
Attributes also improved.
Perhaps one more time.
Ian could really catch more bullets. He didn’t use new skill points, planning to save two to upgrade his 【Iron Body】.
“Evolve to steel body and definitely block bullets.”
Ian anticipated.
He gained another strength boost.
A good thing.
However.
Per conservation of energy.
Bad things occasionally show what inseparable companionship means.
On the phone.
Grandfather’s doubt came.
Ian instantly went on high alert.
“No, my voice is fine; this isn’t a prank…”
“Believe me, I really am a superhero, just with unspeakable reasons can’t go public—huh? What? Who’s Ian? Where does my tone sound like Ian?”
“Fine, fine, since you slander so, I confess: I’m Batman! Batman! Check this phone’s source and you’ll know!”
“No! What do you mean now you’re more sure? Hm? Mom told you? What did she say? I have cross-dressing fetish? She loves tattling so why not be a repor…”
“Pah pah pah! Mom definitely wasn’t liked by classmates in school!” Ian, feeling obviously improved, faced another round of fury.
After drinking potion.
It’s like this.
“Don’t come then! I’ll tell Father! You secretly research Superman serum! Iron bad!” He angrily hung up, still mad prompting him to kick each villain once more.
This scene.
Stunned even the passing stray orange cat.
It seemed to sense Ian’s bottom-right anger bar half full.
Fur exploded at Ian madly.
“Scram, you this level Hakimi has no right to hak me!” Ian even cursed passing cats; this might be true breakdown.
“Meow~”
The stray cat still fur-exploded at Ian.
Its eyes reddened briefly.
However.
Before anything happened, Ian grabbed its scruff, stuffing it straight into the riddled backpack, and conveniently blocked the Demon Head’s mouth.
To prevent the Demon from eating the cat.
“Good appearance; gift box it, and you’re my apology gift home.” Ian’s abacus clacked loudly, firmly pressing the still-struggling orange cat in the backpack.
“Such strong strength.”
Ian sensed something off.
But he had proper business: take out 300 US dollars, wipe fingerprints, stuff into military uniform bald head’s pocket; he knew the true market price of enhancement potions well.
Bought at gym door.
“Done, wrap up.”
Payment done.
Ian hopped on the Hellcat and sped away.
“We shall overcome evil〔We shall defeat evil〕”
“for the Lord is always on the side of victory〔The Lord is always on the side of victory〕”
The small car played Ian a new song.
Blue flames from exhaust formed a middle finger shape behind.
People with personality.
Drive cars with such personality.
“Still knows to call; speaking of, the call he made counts as official.” Relativity still; Ian happy, someone always feels complex.
After Ian left.
Above the sky.
The second sun in Metropolis’s clouds slowly descended; seeing the illegal personnel tied into human centipede shape, his red cape slightly disheveled in the wind.
“At least, he has a heart wanting to be a hero; that’s not wrong.” Old Father, unsure how to evaluate Ian’s behavior, could only psychologically comfort himself thus. Hm, perhaps the world misunderstands this man; who says he doesn’t use his super brain?
Isn’t this super brain activated!
Perhaps.
Superman shouldn’t be a reporter, but a lawyer.
“What a mess…”
Old Father sighed.
Suddenly.
“Hiss~”
A gasp of cold air sounded.
From the Bear Country strong man.
Their physical quality is indeed strong.
“Bang~”
But before this one woke, Superman stepped up for a nape chop only seen in TV series—perhaps, liking to knock people out can’t blame Ian.
Family tradition.
Naturally so.
Ian just outdid the master.
〔ps: Doubts in comments panicked me; rest combined into a big chapter tonight.〕
