What's wrong with Superman's son wanting to be Superman?

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How does it look now?

It's almost as dilapidated as America's Air Force fighter jets?

"Dong Dong Dong~"

Confused, Ian knocked on the door again. This time, the door seemed to widen slightly, and a strong, plant-based incense scent wafted out of the room.

"Is it an invitation? Or was the door not locked properly?"

Ian tried to push the door open.

The heavy oak doors slid open silently, revealing a magnificent, golden hall inside. Floating candlesticks cast a warm glow, illuminating the thin layer of dust accumulated on the spiral staircase railing.

It looks like it hasn't been wiped down for at least several months.

"Is anyone home?"

Ian politely peeked out to ask a question. His voice echoed in the hall, startling several pigeons perched on the chandelier and revealing the direction they were heading.

Feathers drifted down.

A folding table covered with purple velvet was stored in a corner, where there was also a rocking armchair, where the horse-faced man we had seen before was lying leisurely.

The man was even more disheveled than when he was seen on the street—his dark blue pajama bottoms were peeking out from under his monk's robe, his left slipper was missing, and there was a hole in his right sock.

He was flipping through a Sherlock Holmes book with his long, slender fingers. On the hardcover cover, Holmes' pipe had been highlighted with a fluorescent pen to resemble some kind of magic wand.

"Sir, why aren't you still setting up your stall?" Ian stepped onto the old Persian carpet, his boots sinking into it. His outgoing personality led him to ask the question.

"Of course, it's because I'll stop once I earn 200 yuan a day." The man answered subconsciously, then suddenly slammed the book shut as if he had just realized something.

"and many more!"

The man suddenly stood up, spilling the hot tea that was placed next to him onto his pajama bottoms. He didn't seem to care much about it, and looked at Ian with a hint of surprise and uncertainty in his eyes.

A red cloak flew automatically onto his back.

Authentication has been successful.

"How did you get in here?!"

Doctor Strange stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

"Maybe it's because the door wasn't locked?"

Ian pointed behind him, making a slightly embarrassed expression.

"This has nothing to do with whether the door is locked or not, right? Where are the temple's protective spells?" Doctor Strange rushed to the front door in a few moments, and after checking it, his expression became even more incredulous.

"The protective spell is fine. Only those I have permission to approach my house are allowed, and you... you did not receive my invitation." Doctor Strange suddenly turned around at the doorway.

There was no anger on his face, but rather excitement. "This proves that the temple itself invited you, which also means that you are probably one of those extraordinary talents who were born to become a mage!"

Doctor Strange made a reasonable judgment.

At least it was a judgment he considered reasonable.

"..."

Ian remained silent for a moment.

Are you trying to deduce things like Sherlock Holmes?

He found himself increasingly unable to understand the world's superheroes.

Out of place.

That's probably how it feels.

"what?"

Doctor Strange paused for a moment.

"Have you discovered all this?"

He was a little embarrassed and had the cloak help him scratch his head.

It really feels like I'm lazy to the extreme.

"Don't learn it next time."

Ian sighed deeply.

"It doesn't resemble it at all, but even so, it still makes me a little prone to thinking of Sherlock Holmes stories."

His words left Doctor Strange completely bewildered.

I pondered it for a long time.

I couldn't figure out whether Ian was praising himself or criticizing himself.

"Stephen Strange? Former neurosurgeon?" Ian was feeling rather melancholy, so he didn't continue the small talk and instead confirmed his identity with Doctor Strange.

Hear the words.

Doctor Strange was taken aback at first.

"You even know this?" Then, as if he had "deduced" something, he slapped his forehead. "Looks like you have an extraordinary talent for precognition!"

"That's fantastic! At least you won't starve anymore!"

"Child, are your parents around here? Never mind, that's not important, I can handle them—it's up to you. How about you consider switching careers and becoming a magnificent mage?"

"It's true, I'm not kidding you, you have the potential to become the Sorcerer Supreme!"

"I am the Sorcerer Supreme. Look how cool this cloak is! You don't even need to wait until I die. Once you learn it, I'll give it to you, and I'll immediately find a place to hang myself!"

"A seamless rise to power! It couldn't be more brilliant!"

Doctor Strange spoke quickly, but that didn't prove his thinking was fast either. He rattled off a whole bunch of things, and his intention to fool Ian was far too obvious.

"..."

Ian looked around.

No trace of a second mage was found.

He roughly understood.

"Are you the only one left in Kamar-Taj?"

Ian's tone was somewhat tentative.

Doctor Strange's excited expression froze instantly.

"Well, it's not just me left, it's just that the others... the others don't have that much talent, you know—it seems you've already had some exposure to the magical world beforehand."

"Is it from a family of sorcerers?" Doctor Strange abruptly changed the subject, his approach clumsy and obvious. He was clearly trying to cover something up, and it felt like he was trying to pull Ian into a tug-of-war.

however.

Ian didn't want to get involved with Doctor Strange.

“No, I’m not from a family of mages, I’m from a family of positive energy… Damn it, can’t this world be a little more normal? Compared to something as unimportant as learning magic…” Ian interrupted Doctor Strange, who was still trying to fool people, “I actually want to know what’s going on in this world.”

He stared intently at the Supreme Master before him.

"What's going on?"

Doctor Strange looked somewhat bewildered.

"You're setting up a fortune-telling stall outside, Captain America is working as a model in a clothing store, and Spider-Man is doing a striptease... Damn, I really hope he's just doing a striptease!"

Ian held his forehead.

Even if it's him.

They all found it hard to accept such an absurd world.

"Oh, you mean those two? They're perfectly normal, just trying to make a living." Doctor Strange lay back in his chair, his tone carrying an air of unwarranted complacency.

The red cloak behind him flew back onto the clothes rack.

"That's a superhero!"

Ian covered his head.

"No, I need to see the Ancient One, I need to see Eternity... Go quickly and tell Eternity that I have done my part for Marvel, I have shed blood for Marvel, I deserve an answer."

He can accept the absurdity of Marvel.

The boy, who had finally become a hero, couldn't quite accept that his heroic act had created such a bizarre and outrageous world.

"Eternity? If I knew how to get close to a big shot like that, would I still be here reading novels?" Doctor Strange picked up the Sherlock Holmes book again.

"What are you hiding in your crotch? I can sense magic." Doctor Strange said as he read, conjuring up a chair for Ian.

But Ian had no intention of sitting down.

"A demonic book?"

Ian pulled his collection out of his crotch. To be honest, he still didn't understand what the book was. Perhaps Doctor Strange could help him identify it.

Although the world is different.

However, some things still have something in common.

Ian's Book of Creation

This book likes to change its name, which Ian finds very appealing, but he still walks up to the book with the sycophantic book in hand, trying to get the Marvel Universe's Sorcerer Supreme to judge it.

however.

"What the hell is this? The words on it are twisted into monsters, I can't understand them at all."

Doctor Strange gave Ian a suspicious look. "As for demons? Are you trying to scare me? Even a ten-year-old sorcerer should know that demons only exist in bedtime stories."

His words carried a hint of disdain.

Ian's pupils contracted sharply.

I noticed something was wrong again.

"What do you mean? You've never seen a demon? Never fought a dimensional demon? Dormammu? Cyttorak?" With his super brain functioning normally, Ian keenly captured crucial information.

He immediately followed up with more questions.

They also snatched the Sherlock Holmes stories from Doctor Strange's hands.