Chapter 94: Evil God? Who’s The Evil God?
The sunset really gives everything a silhouette.
The Hellcat’s tires tore tracks smelling of sulfur on the asphalt road. Under the outskirts’ skyline, Ian’s car carried him speeding along at way over the limit.
That’s normal too.
After all, the outskirts highway has no speed limits… cameras. For a real old driver who follows traffic rules, a place without speed limit signs and controls means no speed limit.
The little car that hasn’t killed anyone in hours is just such an old driver.
Well versed in this.
“Taking everything in my stride~〔Following along with my steps〕”
“Don’t need reason, don’t need rhyme〔No reason needed, no rhythm needed〕”
……
In the right scene, Ian’s Hellcat loves switching to the right song, and now the computer is playing a freedom song that was all the rage in America.
《Highway to Hell》.
Of course.
Just like everything people can see in America.
It comes from Australia.
Just like the people living on this land now, all “imported”—what? Asking what’s native to America? Anyone who can answer that is now a specimen in a museum.
“Oh, no wonder you say this is hell~” Ian was a bit slow on the uptake, suddenly realizing, he patted his backpack, but the demon head inside didn’t give any flattery.
Ian didn’t care about that bit of flattery.
“Six or seven kilos, these are symbols of my achievements.” Ian had been cleaning up and recycling bullet heads, and the over a thousand pieces weighed a bit more than he expected.
“I’ll forge them into a copper chain, then when I go out walking my pet, I’ll have a leash for it.” Ian did pick up an orange cat. But that was needed for the trick to appease the mother goddess. So, from start to finish, he only had the demon head to take out walking.
Whatever.
Walking anything is walking.
“Right, you used up a lot today, here, supplement some trace elements.” Ian picked a few of the best-looking bullet heads, unzipped his backpack, and tossed them into the demon head’s mouth.
Because he hoped his trash can part-time gas station would have full fuel tomorrow too, his attitude toward the demon head was naturally a bit better than the past couple days.
“Don’t run.”
Ian casually held down the orange cat trying to sneak away, stuffed the orange cat and demon head back into the backpack, and because the “seal” on its mouth was removed for feeding.
“Damn it! It’s drilling into my mouth! Get it out!” The demon head screamed like its tail was stepped on, too bad it had long lost its tail.
“This is no excuse for you to eat my cat!”
Ian sternly warned the demon.
“If you dare eat my cat, I’ll make you put on lipstick every night and use a little clip voice to be a sexy chat buddy for otakus, guess how long it’d take you to earn enough for me to buy a new cat?”
He was getting better at threatening people.
To be fair.
At least with the minotaur demon, Ian’s threats worked better than an exorcism spell.
It instantly quieted down, aggrieved but not daring to speak, could only grit its teeth refusing the orange cat’s curiosity about the world in its mouth, really didn’t know why damn God created cats!
The demonic minotaur trembled.
It didn’t want to eat the cat.
But it felt like the cat wanted to eat it.
“Damn it!”
The demon got angrier the more it thought.
Silently shed tears.
This time it was despised by the orange cat. Maybe because it thought the demonic minotaur’s head was a comfy cat bed, the cat Ian picked up settled down quietly in the backpack.
Ian did leave air holes.
“Don’t blame me, blame that Batman battle robe before, after I wore it I was corrupted by Batman, it not only gave me strategy but made me ruthless.”
Ian thought his words made perfect sense.
No one knows if wearing Batman’s battle robe taints you with a bit of cosmic karma.
His logic closed loop was perfect.
But the demonic minotaur clearly couldn’t reach his level of thinking.
“You just role-played a bit…” The demonic minotaur weakly retorted, it really lost too much today, its whole head was completely drained.
“That’s why I’m only ruthless, fool.” Ian scoffed, the minotaur demon laughed at him for overthinking, he laughed at the minotaur demon for not understanding the bond between him and Batman.
As for what kind of bond, um, respected teacher, godfather titles seemed used up… While thinking, Ian found even he had tricky moments.
“Sigh.”
This must be because not enough attribute points added.
Can’t sustain brain operation long-term.
“My body isn’t strong enough yet, doesn’t match my brain.” Ian, a bit wistful, bagged the remaining bullet heads, and casually tossed one into his own mouth.
“Crunch crunch~”
Very crisp.
Like peanuts.
After chewing, Ian swallowed them all down.
This was an attempt.
However.
No use.
Nothing happened.
【Savage Tyrant】’s experience points didn’t increase.
“Still gotta go touch my Uncle Devourer.”
Ian failed to exploit the system bug, so he could only wait to unlock the profession from Galactus, maybe then he could have a truly good gut.
The Hellcat was still racing on the highway.
It was leading Ian to a new “mission” spot.
America’s land of sin is everywhere, just like missions in games from a certain canned food game factory, endless, can’t grind them all, so Ian felt he should learn flight today.
“What’s that?”
Ian hummed along to the song while watching ahead, soon realizing something off, still outskirts, but what’s with that grand factory marked with 【LEXCORP】?
“Luthor’s enterprise!”
Ian’s mind instantly cleared.
“No no no! That’s a dungeon for my old man! I don’t qualify!” Ian had clear self-awareness, as an independent NPC he only wanted to bully ordinary villain NPCs.
As for a villain like Lex Luthor.
Even undying Ian.
Didn’t really want to get stuck with that plaster.
“Retreat! Retreat! Retreat! Change dungeons!”
Ian patted the dashboard ahead.
The Hellcat immediately sharp-turned into a U-ie.
Obedient as it was.
But that didn’t stop it from playing music to express its opinion on the choice.
“I’d hate to look into those eyes~〔I don’t want to look into those eyes〕”
“And feel like I can’t change~〔Afraid I can’t change anything〕”
……
To be fair.
This was a bit sarcastic.
“You don’t get it, I’m just planning long-term, step by step.” Ian’s rebuttal actually made sense, after all this time he didn’t bring his dual-wield weapons.
Not only couldn’t unleash dynastyle power, no one to draw Luthor’s attention. In this setup, Ian felt simpler dungeons suited him.
“Vroom vroom~”
The Hellcat answered with engine roar. It played black mamba again, directly carrying Ian flying along the highway into the city, straight to a bustling block.
“Military goods deals here?”
Ian was a bit surprised.
He looked left and right.
This was a decently safe block, streets clean, pedestrians neat, no homeless, even zero dollar purchase black bros wore suits and ties.
He even knew to leave a tip after grabbing stuff!
Clearly a good black bro properly going to work! Ian was very curious, in such a peaceful block, was there really sinful transaction he needed?
“Trust me, Pilot。〔Trust me, Iron Rider。〕” This time the Hellcat’s radio quoted not a song, but a very short line from a game.
“Mm, mm, I get it, the most dangerous place is the safest.” Ian still trusted his little car, he observed spots around where sinful deals might happen.
Lots of clothing stores.
And various sundries.
Soon the boy’s gaze locked on a fairly upscale fast food joint, at least food fried fresh, he hurried over, pushed the door and entered.
“Here, definitely here.” Ian confidently judged, his stomach then growled twice, after using self-healing ability he always got hungrier. Though with physical quality improving, the hunger wasn’t strong most times, but that didn’t stop Ian wanting a win-win.
“Fill my belly first, full strength to grab stuff… no, I mean be a superhero.” His ordering momentum was like a glutton starved three days.
Twenty hamburgers, ten fries, five milkshakes, thirty fried chicken legs. If not worried about weird looks bullying him, Ian could’ve ordered way more fast food.
“This is my rich guy confidence.”
Ian sat at a big table by the window, even elegantly tucked a napkin into his T-shirt, pity his Coca-Cola couldn’t go in a goblet.
“Gulp gulp~”
Ian chugged the happy water that makes fat otakus happy.
He looked at the table full of food, just about to do his pre-meal prayer. Suddenly, a figure ran past the floor-to-ceiling window, directly diving into the fast food joint.
She first ran a few steps toward the restroom, then backed up and dove under Ian’s table. Before Ian could react, a group of black-clad men followed in, drawing many diners’ eyes, but no guns so no one panicked.
“What’s going on?”
Ian curiously watched the black-clad men.
They first searched the fast food joint, looked around no target, then some wise guy led them rushing toward the restroom.
Maybe thought the target would flip out the window there.
Classic plot. Ian wasn’t surprised, after all people wearing black sunglasses indoors in the afternoon must have bad eyes, that’s the only reasonable thing.
“Little punk girl, it’s safe.”
Ian kicked under the tablecloth where the girl hid.
“Damn Ian! Don’t kick my boobs flat!” The girl crawled out from under, cursing, frantically grabbing napkins to wipe shoe prints off her clothes.
Yes.
It was Madison.
Ian’s school deskmate.
“You filming 《Fast Food Shop Terror》? Hollywood trash flick?” Ian remembered Madison liked auditioning weekends, so he boldly guessed like little Kogoro.
“No, can’t you tell? I’m really being chased by a bunch of lunatics!” Madison was still shaken, snatched Ian’s cola and sucked hard to calm down.
“Dead yet?”
Ian wasn’t mad, grabbed another drink, after years of habit he had no food-guarding after being robbed. His inner emotion wasn’t even as strong as his guess turning him into Mouri Kogoro instead of Mitsui Kogoro.
“Probably not dead?”
Madison was uncertain too.
“If not dead, wait while I eat.” Ian tidied the messy table, hoping Miss Death wouldn’t think him casual during prayer.
Truth be told, he was a bit scared Miss Death would push further.
“No, I’m discussing perverts trying to grab me, and you’re this calm?” Madison couldn’t understand why Ian was so unflappable.
She suspected Ian didn’t believe her.
“We live in an era where superheroes and supervillains run wild, isn’t this normal life?” Ian looked at Madison with a slightly odd gaze.
“……”
Held back a long time.
“Fuck!”
Madison was speechless, but had to admit Ian’s words always had some reason—frustrated, she picked fries from the table and started munching.
She knew Ian’s rules well.
So no reminder needed, very consciously pulled out a ten dollar bill and slapped it in front of Ian.
“You can take forty-five bites, count yours.” Though Ian no longer cared about small change, he pocketed the money fast.
“You alone ordering this much food?” Madison was surprised at Ian’s inhuman appetite, felt this food could last her a week.
He started eyes-closed prayer.
While Madison was super curious, “You actually religious? Scientology? Straight guy cult? Or Flying Spaghetti Monster?”
Had to say.
This deskmate’s filter on Ian was way too heavy.
“I only believe in New Supermanism, but that doesn’t stop me contacting that goddess symbolizing death.” Ian finished praying, knew how to probe the playing-dead Miss Death.
“No choice, can’t go a day without contact, too clingy.” Easier said than done, Ian felt an invisible hand tightly gripping his brain under the crown.
Not painful.
But the other side shook fiercely, like trying to shake out the water inside.
Hmm.
Miss Death was really just playing dead.
“Why’s your head shaking? Ate something? Gimme a piece?”
Madison had been staring at Ian.
“Just intimate interaction.”
As Ian’s words fell.
He felt the invisible hand withdraw like avoiding plague.
He became elegant again.
“My god, what are you even saying?”
The blonde girl was very confused, her deskmate spoke human words, but she understood every word yet not what they meant together.
“You don’t get it now, but after you die you will. Miss Death is supreme existence, life’s end—at least for most ordinary lives.”
Ian wasn’t showing off.
He just remembered his deskmate’s miraculous healing and wanted to probe, but this deskmate who could probably insta-save near-death folks still didn’t get it.
“Death? Goddess? Some nerd otaku’s new cult from drill books?” Madison was baffled, really couldn’t sync with Ian. She tried guessing, wondering if Ian’s show-off repression phase hit?
Why else join some goddess cult so mysteriously?
“Truth, you should get out more, come with me later, I got sisters—hang with them an afternoon, you’ll know real goddesses.”
Madison’s helpful friend vibe still had green tea flavor.
Just like pimping.
“Fine, guess you really don’t know.” Ian finished probing, believed though his deskmate’s acting was good, it couldn’t reach Oscar-level naturalness.
“Should I know?” Madison ran slender hands through her messy hair, eyes blank, twitched at the “Rolex” on Ian’s wrist.
“I know you’re bold, curse anyone, but death isn’t an evil god… look, without death, would we have such tasty hamburger meat?”
Ian didn’t know if Miss Death left, anyway hype it, “Or such tasty pork chops, if they didn’t die, could I taste this deliciousness?”
Saying that.
Ian started gnawing pork chop.
“……”
Madison hated her poor studies, knew Ian’s logic was twisted but hard to refute, after all can’t gnaw live pigs.
That image.
Scary just thinking.
Good no booze here, or Madison’d drink—women do that.
“All junk food, eat too much and gain fat.”
Her kind reminder probably to change topic.
But.
Ian took it seriously.
“Junk food’s great, my godfather loves it.”
He was scarfing.
Posture like starved ten days half month.
“Gulp~”
Blonde girl swallowed.
“Godfather? You mean godfather right? If he loves it, you should bring some back, not use him as excuse to pig out here?”
Madison’s words sounded reasonable.
But.
She didn’t have Ian’s reason solid.
“My godfather’s in prison now, can’t eat, so I eat for him, through our bond he’ll smell it.” Ian firmly believed.
His cheeks bulged like a hamster.
“……”
Madison patted her forehead, clearly not buying Ian’s nonsense.
“You almost made me laugh from anger.”
She shook head, helpless.
Looking at the full table, Madison stopped eating, not from discipline, but noticed Ian glanced after her 45th bite.
“Eating like that, you still have muscles? Those midnight group-sent muscle pics last night were photoshopped right?” Madison eyed Ian suspiciously.
“Huh?”
Now Ian was baffled.
“I didn’t do that.”
He pulled out his phone to check.
Damn.
Batman’s revenge late but arrived!
“Said no letting it go!”
Ian felt he shouldn’t trust any Gotham conman—good thing whatever, even mighty Batman probably underestimated Ian’s thick skin.
He quickly adjusted mood.
“Wanna touch? First free, later ten dollars, no… how much you think I should price to cover every pretty schoolgirl?”
Ian lifted his T-shirt, revealing not exaggerated but explosive abs—Madison’s eyes widened, sincerely amazed.
“You… got tech’d?”
Blonde girl seemed knowledgeable.
Her doubt resounding.
“Nope.”
Ian’s answer righteous. He drank enhancement potion, not technology and ruthless tactics, different name means different things.
Cold-dressed houttuynia same as fishy grass oral liquid?
Same logic!
“Real or fake, these muscles can scare people.” Madison still shaken, pulled wallet searching small bills.
Girls eyeing movie career with luxury goods everywhere naturally from good families, carrying over thousand dollars out means elite family kid at least. Hm? Why Ian knows thousand dollars? He glimpsed inside Madison’s wallet.
No misunderstanding.
Pure peeking.
Naturally reason.
“Seriously, come report at police station with me, I need female police officer bodyguarding me.” Madison watched Ian speed-eat like wild boar possessed.
Her eye twitched.
But held back snark.
Somewhat scared, made request.
“Here.”
Madison only found ten dollar bills, handed to Ian waiting for change from rule-following Ian, years of deskmate blonde green tea knew his price list.
Money not too much.
Not too little.
Too much gets scolded.
Too little gets heh.
“Actually been wanting to raise prices lately, but… our bond so iron, old rules.” Ian stuffed all food in one go.
After swallowing last hamburger bite, he snatched Madison’s wallet.
“Huh?”
Madison watched Ian count eight hundred dollars into pocket, not mad, just blank, frantically recalling what eight hundred meant on Ian’s service list.
Never used this service before.
Forgot.
“Eight hundred dollars, you getting me a female cop?”
Blonde green tea brainstormed.
People sitting together probably similar mental state.
“Dream on, eat shit, no you don’t deserve my fart—this is me saving your life.” Ian finished, wiped mouth, tossed chest napkin on table.
“Saving what life?”
Madison hadn’t reacted.
She saw Ian skillfully pull new nylon stockings from pocket.
“???”
Under Madison’s horrified gaze.
Ian put them on his head.
“What do you think?”
He turned back.
Perfect timing.
Restroom door “bang” opened.
Five or six menacing sunglass guys filed out—the black-clad men not following script, leader holding a huge tongue-lolling toad.
Toad pointed right at Madison’s seat.
“Damn!”
Madison paled in shock.
Grabbed Ian to run out restaurant.
However.
“Wait! Let me poke eye holes…!” Ian back to crowd failed again, could only jog after Madison.
“Rip~”
Used too much force.
Nylon stockings tore to rags.
“You owe me!”
Good thing Ian always found blame target.
“I have a car! My car’s there…” Ian wanted to show off, but saw street crowd in chaos, because his Hellcat hood opening closing like swallowing a black guy with crowbar—it seemed to half-understand prison.
“……”
Ian’s voice cut off.
“You have a car?”
Madison ditched high heels.
She surprised turned back.
“Or wait a sec, let me log in…” Ian avoided mentioning ride, pulled another pack of nylon stockings and opened.
“No way? How much of this you buy?” Madison panting, but didn’t stop marveling what Ian’s pocket held.
“Guess?”
Ian slipped stockings on head, logged in again. He knew rich hide strength, wouldn’t easily reveal buying full hundred pairs for just one month luxury fact.
“Let them come!”
“I think they’re no simpletons! Look, I have superhero ID… wait, that’s my expired mental illness certificate, this is my ID card.”
Ian finally pulled his spirit calling card.
He wasn’t bent on heroics, but intuition said those likely male magicians were the criminals his Hellcat wanted him blocking.
Premium delivery.
Ian definitely signing for.
Every chapter I base on outline then write detailed outline, join group I can show readers updated chapter outlines, so if subscribed reader doubting my outline just join. If no reader joins saying doubter is him, I’ll judge that guy string peer 0.0
