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

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"Ah."

Batman didn't deny it.

He just looked at the hand that he had instinctively swung out, directly knocking the old lady unconscious, and his eyes flickered slightly.

"I will heal myself."

He assured the other Justice League members that he had no intention of seeking help. Instead, he got into his Batmobile and sped off as if to give himself a check-up.

It's unclear where they went, or what secret base they were heading to.

Superman quickly discovered that Bruce's vehicle had disappeared from his sight—clearly, Bruce had previously taken precautions against him after he gained enhanced abilities.

"I have a bad feeling."

Clark looked into the distance.

At this point, after continuous transport work, The Flash and Superman successfully restored most of Gotham's environment, although the buildings that were replanted looked slightly different from before.

“Bruce said he knows what’s wrong with him.” The Flash, clearly having just spoken with Bruce, said to Clark, panting as he leaned on his knees.

“Your speed has decreased by more than half, and your stamina is also depleting. I think the problems in your body are still eroding you.” Superman’s gaze returned to the Flash’s arm.

There.

The grotesque marks still remain.

The Flash looked down at his arm beneath his clothes and said softly, "Bruce told me that if I'm lucky enough, I can get rid of my troubles tonight."

He is clearly unwilling to imagine what would happen if he wasn't lucky.

"If you need help, or if you discover that Bruce has gotten into a bigger problem, let me know immediately," Superman patted the Flash on the shoulder and whispered in his ear.

"no problem."

The Flash gave Superman an OK sign, then transformed into a red lightning bolt and disappeared at the end of the street—he was clearly heading back to the research facility he had been staying at.

"Everyone can finally get some rest."

Superman glanced around at the other members of the Justice League.

"The way Bruce looks makes it impossible for me to get up in peace—who knows if I'll wake up one morning to find a bunch of bio-engineered female warriors created by Bruce on Earth."

Wonder Woman is also very worried about Batman's current mental state.

"Yeah yeah."

Aquaman and Cyborg looked at each other and gave the same response.

"I'll find a way to keep an eye on Bruce when I get back." Superman was naturally worried, and he made that promise before looking toward Metropolis.

Under the watchful eyes of a host of superheroes.

The invincible Superman vanished from the spot in an instant.

He was in a hurry—Clark had just landed amidst the ruins of his own yard when he saw Ian and Jordan wrestling over a gleaming belt.

"Let me play for a while! I'm my brother's favorite!"

Ian choked Jordan and pinned him to the ground.

"Bullshit! He still owes me two girlfriends! I should play with his belt!" Jordan retorted, reaching under Ian's armpit, causing Ian to let out a wicked, lewd laugh.

"What's going on now?"

Superman was standing not far away.

The cloak hung limply.

"Can someone explain this?"

He stood in front of the ruins.

I glanced at Ian and Jordan wrestling, then at Jonathan standing helplessly to the side, and at Madison carrying a lamppost, eating barbecue, and cheering Ian on.

"Jordan is an easy winner; he has to compete with the MVP for that magical transformation belt." Madison noticed Superman's gaze and mumbled an explanation while chewing on his barbecue.

She explained it before Jonathan could, and Superman felt that listening to her was just like listening to Ian—he still didn't understand anything.

“Uh, Dad, here’s what happened.” Jonathan scratched his head, walked forward somewhat embarrassedly, and for the next ten minutes he recounted his experience of meeting the white-bearded old man in his dream.

After hearing this, Superman's expression froze for a full five seconds.

"You mean."

Clark asked, enunciating each word carefully, as if to confirm he hadn't misheard, "An old man in a bathrobe took a belt out of the television and gave it to you, and then you could pray to the gods to borrow power?"

"The last time I heard about something like this was Shazam and his little story." Clark certainly knew Shazam, but Shazam hadn't joined the Justice League.

That special superhero needs to prioritize his studies in his daily life.

Faced with his father's question.

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Seeing this, Clark frowned, beginning to wonder if Jonathan should see Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

“Honestly, I find it very strange too, but that’s how it happened.” Jonathan seemed to sense his father’s suspicion, sighed, and strode over to Ian and Jordan, who were still fighting. He snatched the belt they were fighting over and, to his father’s astonishment, fastened it around his own waist.

"Transform!"

A dazzling blue light erupted instantly, and Jonathan's figure rapidly shifted within the light. When the light dissipated, a figure covered in mysterious armor and surrounded by ancient runes appeared before everyone.

Most shockingly, as he gently waved his hand, the mud on the ground began to dance on its own, arranging itself into a neat square formation, as if performing some kind of mysterious ritual.

"??????"

Superman's mouth dropped open.

His jaw almost dropped to the ground.

"."

silence.

There was a long silence.

It's unclear how Superman convinced himself to accept this fact. He looked at his new home, now a ruin, sighed, and reached out to pick up his three children.

“Perfect timing, you can join the ranks of those cutting down trees to build your home now.” Superman’s ability to accept things is truly remarkable. Perhaps it’s due to proper training, but he took the three of them and prepared to take off back to his hometown.

"I can also help you fix your house. As a witch, I need to work on my strength regularly," Madison suddenly said, extending her lamp to Superman.

"..."

With one hand carrying three boys and the other holding a Madison streetlamp, Superman took off instantly and sped toward the Kent family's farm that had been their property for generations.

"I don't want to repair the house! I'll buy you a big house!"

Ian's resistance was ultimately futile.

He was still forced to join in cutting down trees, draining the moisture from the trees, and piecing together the house—and after working for more than half an hour, he finally seized the opportunity to escape with Madison.

Clark and his two brothers, who were fully engaged, didn't react in time.

Until the new house is built.

Superman then realized that Ian had disappeared sometime earlier, and there was only a demon head in the compartment mimicking the voices of Ian and Madison.

"What about people?"

He ignored the fact that the demon's head was still mimicking the behavior of a human being.

He looked around in astonishment.

at last.

The old father pinpointed the location of Ian and Madison—it was Gotham.

“Black Angel, come to me.”

"Don't worry, the white angel is going to the delinquent girl's place. They don't do screw-ups there."

obviously.

Capitalists are masters at seizing opportunities.

So, Ian's Greatest Tech Group started hiring.

Chapter 145 The Dream God Strikes! Is Batman Doomed?

Superman stood at the window of the half-finished wooden cabin, staring at the job postings on the roadside in the direction of Gotham. Not only were his eyes twitching, but the muscles in his cheeks were also twitching uncontrollably.

no way.

It's because my father's eyesight and hearing are still very good.

He not only witnessed Ian conning a group of powerless angels, but also heard Madison holding a megaphone and shouting something about a "Heavenly Re-employment Project" in broken Latin.

"Puff puff."

The demonic bullhead made a cautious sound.

Seeing Superman's increasingly contorted expression, the hellish creature completely panicked. It clearly thought that its clumsy imitation had angered this god among men.

otherwise.

It doesn't explain why even the most controlled Superman can't control his facial muscles.

"Ian forced me to do this!" The Minotaur suddenly slid to his knees, his head sliding three meters across the wooden floor, stopping right at Superman's feet as he wept bitterly. "I didn't want to! I'm just an ordinary trash can! But Ian forced me to learn from the other filthy demons and use my voice to bewitch you."

It was clear that its demonic nature and instincts had been aroused. The guy secretly glanced at Superman's ashen face, his voice growing softer and softer, filled with fear and unease.

"Please don't crush my head."

How could I not be afraid?

The demonic bullhead knew that the Superman before him was becoming increasingly malevolent, and that there was even a faint divine presence within him. Heaven knows what version of Superman he was dealing with.

"Shut up already." Superman sighed, rubbing his temples. He turned around and saw Jordan standing in the doorway, staring intently at the demon's head on the ground.

Clark's muscles trembled uncontrollably again—don't forget, he's now Superman who can hear thoughts, and he knows exactly what his second son is thinking even if he doesn't say it.

Of course, the demon bull-headed creature didn't have that ability, but it did have the perception of a demon after all. Seeing Jordan's strange look, it was so frightened that its entire head began to fade wildly.

"Don't let him come any closer! Please! Superman!"

It's hard to imagine that one day, the devil would be asking Superman for help.