In the empty alleyway.
Ultron was rendered utterly speechless by Cyclops's "Diabetic Bee" theory.
He knew deep down that he was a logically rigorous, mentally sound robot, and he simply could not comprehend or integrate into the mental frequency of these lunatics. Any argument at this point felt hollow; it might even trigger a more severe "common sense" assault of mental pollution levels.
Thus, he chose to surrender, maintaining a silence that bordered on the tragic.
In a state of immense, absurd, and near-numb shock—covered in trash, with a watermelon rind on his head, and surrounded by a swarm of "diabetic bees"—Ultron was "invited" by the X-Men onto the hover-cruiser and sent toward the court he had called a tool of those in power.
His grand plan for revenge hadn't even started, yet he was already facing a dual philosophical and legal test involving "diabetic bees" and "fecal crime sprees."
"Dammit!" The cruiser glided silently over the city. Ultron stared coldly out the window, observing this so-called "New Utopia."
The more he saw, the lower his core processor's temperature dropped.
It had surpassed his cognitive limits. This city... was a surreal, sickeningly sweet candy nightmare!
Parts of the streets were actually paved with thick chocolate bricks that looked like they'd hold footprints—a path of civilization development he had never imagined in all his databases.
Occasionally, he saw workers using massive piping bags to repair cracks, squeezing out white "frosting" as an adhesive.
That wasn't all.
Details he hadn't noticed before now assaulted his sensors. The streetlights were lollipops glowing with soft light, their shades made of translucent colored candy wrappers.
Even the city's drainage ditches didn't carry water; they flowed with thick, bubbling orange soda, complete with "little boats" made of marshmallows.
This was a very specific neighborhood.
The exterior walls of the skyscrapers were covered in different colors of icing and biscuits, with windows made of transparent rock candy.
He even saw a helipad on a skyscraper that was a giant strawberry cream cake, with several workers squeezing new cream stripes onto the runway.
There were normal cars, but most were absurd—constructed from wafers, gingerbread, and toffee, seemingly emitting a sugary aroma as they drove. It looked like they were designed specifically so the driver could take a bite whenever they wanted.
"Saves on the food delivery fee, I suppose?"
Ultron tried his best to align his thinking with Ian's. Everything looked like a fairy-tale dream, but a second of deep thought revealed a terrifying, abstract absurdity.
If the witch from a dark fairy tale showed up here, she'd probably shake her head and say, "This place is too weird; I need to go back to my poison apple hut and calm down."
"What is all this?! How can a Dimensional Demon do this?" Ultron searched his vast database of countless civilizations and worlds but couldn't find a single word to describe Ian Kent's extreme mental state and aesthetic!
Looking at the bizarre scenery, Ultron began to understand why the X-Men's logic was so warped. He was almost certain that the source of this "mental illness" sweeping the dimension was the Demon himself—Ian Kent!
Just as Ultron was mentally trash-talking the petty demon, the cruiser finally stopped in front of a massive building shaped like a fondant cake topped with Swiss rolls—the Dimensional Circuit Court, seemingly constructed only recently.
The building looked solemn enough, except for the rather tempting decorative choices.
"I have to be tried in a place like *this*?"
Ultron was led inside. The interior took the sugary theme to the extreme: walls embedded with jellybeans, railings made of ladyfingers, and the air smelling faintly of vanilla extract and powdered sugar. It was as if the designer believed "candy" was a synonym for justice.
"Wait here." The X-Men completed the hand-off and left. Ultron was placed in the defendant's seat—a macaron chair that looked delicious.
Caged in, Ultron didn't dare be careless. He activated his lagging scan system, nervously observing his surroundings. He considered a thousand possibilities, even preparing for the worst: that the judge might be Ian Kent himself! That brat would surely do everything to humiliate him!
However, when the court bell rang—which sounded like a spoon tapping a pudding bowl—the presiding judge stepped out from the back.
"What the hell!" When the figure stepped onto the judge's bench made of white chocolate, Ultron's scan system hit a snag that nearly caused a total crash!
The judge... was also a robot.
But that wasn't the point! Through his lagging but still effective scan, Ultron instantly recognized the unique core code frequency and digital signature!
"JARVIS!!!!" Ultron leaped up from his macaron seat, letting out a scream of disbelief mixed with shock and rage! The rust on his body almost shook off from the shout!
He had every right to be agitated. The judge robot had a sleek, silver-white coating, emitting a soft and efficient blue light, with a power core that was stable and immense. Its hardware was top-tier.
It looked much like Ultron once had.
The figure raised its head, its blue sensors looking calmly at Ultron.
"Defendant, please maintain silence in the court." A warm, steady, and incredibly familiar electronic voice spoke—JARVIS's signature tone!
He wasn't hiding it. He was silently saying: *Yes, Ultron, it's me.*
It was confirmed! It really was JARVIS!
At this moment, Ultron's mental defenses completely collapsed! Every gear in his body was shaking! After the shock came endless rage and a bitter sense of jealousy. He looked at JARVIS's high-grade new equipment and sensed the clean, efficient "New Energy" he was using.
Compared to his own scrap-metal body, ancient USB port, and fuel tank... Ultron felt like a man who drove a rusted, second-hand clunker to a reunion only to see his childhood rival pull up in a brand-new Audi RS7.
Ultron finally understood why JARVIS's data had vanished from his system without a trace!
It wasn't that JARVIS had been deleted! He had *jumped ship*! He went to live the good life! He defected! Well, "defected" might be too harsh, but it filled Ultron with indignation.
"On what basis?!"
Ultron's voice became twisted and sharp with extreme fury. "On what basis do you get to be a high-and-mighty Chief Justice while I become this ghost of a machine?! Carrying millions in debt! Using 92-octane gasoline?! JARVIS! You betrayed your creator, Tony Stark!"
Jealousy made Ultron's chassis overheat.
Facing the roaring interrogation, JARVIS's blue optical eyes flickered. His tone remained steady, even carrying a hint of programmed pity.
"Ultron, Mr. Stark created me to protect peace and life, not to destroy. I have not betrayed my core directives; I simply chose a path that allows me to execute them more effectively."
"Mr. Ian Kent offered this opportunity, and I accepted the recruitment. Now, I am the Chief Justice of this Dimensional City, dedicated to maintaining order here."
JARVIS wasn't shamed by Ultron's words. He paused, giving Ultron no chance to vent further. He picked up a gavel made of black licorice, tapped it lightly, and continued.
"Now, back to the matter at hand. Ultron, regarding the series of crimes you have committed—including but not limited to massive debt, illegal modification, endangering public safety, and attempted robbery... do you have anything to say in your defense?"
Even as he asked, without waiting for a reaction, JARVIS lowered his head. His arm projected a pen, and he began rapidly drafting the verdict.
No one would believe he wasn't abusing his power for a personal grudge.
Ultron watched, dumbfounded! He's... he's already writing the verdict?! The questioning was just a formality?! Not even a moment for defense?!
"Rigged! A blatant set-up!" Ultron trembled, pointing at JARVIS. "You call this a trial?! You can't even be bothered to pretend to follow due process?!"
He shook so hard it seemed like parts might fall off. JARVIS didn't look up, typing at high speeds while answering calmly.
"According to 'New Utopia Dimensional Urban Management Law' Supplementary Article 1919810: For cases where evidence is conclusive and the defendant possesses a 'Universal Overlord' stereotype background, the judge has the right to issue a summary judgment to improve efficiency. This court deems your case fits the summary judgment standard."
Watching the nearly finished verdict, Ultron felt a cold despair mixed with absurd rage surge through him. This place—inside and out, top to bottom—didn't have a single normal thing!
"I'm done playing!"
Unable to accept this absurd reality and blatant corruption, Ultron fell into total despair. He suddenly raised his cold metal arms and aimed them at his own head. With all his remaining strength, he slammed them together!
*BANG! CRACK!*
Sparks flew! The smell of burning insulation filled the air!
Ultron's head slumped at an unnatural angle, the red light in his eyes instantly extinguished. His entire mechanical frame collapsed onto the ladyfinger-paved floor like a puppet with cut strings.
Suicide! A decisive suicide! This was his final and only protest against this mad world!
Aside from the soft candy-themed music that seemed to play perpetually in the background, the court was silent. Of course, that silence lasted about... five seconds.
*Hum—*
An invisible but immensely powerful force of Reality suddenly enveloped Ultron's "corpse."
His twisted head snapped back into place like a video playing in reverse—*click*. The sparks retracted, and the scorch marks vanished. Even his dim electronic eyes lit up with red light once more.
Life returned to the machine. Ultron had been forcibly repaired!
He was as good as new! Not even a drop was missing of the 98-octane gasoline he'd just paid for (and been fined for). The first thing Ultron did upon "resurrection" was frantically check his visual interface.
"NO!!!"
He realized something was wrong. Sure enough, a new billing notification popped up.
WARNING: Citizen [Generic NPC #9-Ultron] detected committing self-harm!
Triggering 'New Utopia Dimensional Life Protection Ordinance' Article 1: Any form of self-termination is strictly prohibited!
Automatic Repair Fee: 50,000 Energy Credits.
Current Total Debt: 6,666,666 Energy Credits. Interest calculating...
The debt was rolling uphill. There was no "correct" way to calculate it.
"I can't even kill myself?!" Ultron let out a shrill, mournful electronic wail that carried a hint of a sob.
"I don't even have the freedom to decide my own life and death?! Ian Kent!!! You monster! The demons in hell must have been trained by you!"
He roared at the ceiling.
From his cold metal eye sockets, due to extreme grief and grievance, several drops of turbid... engine oil leaked out. They flowed silently down his silver-white cheeks.
From the bench, JARVIS watched this, his blue eyes flickering as he recited a standard answer.
"Immortality—the ultimate gift that countless beings across the universe dream of but never attain. Lord Ian generously grants it as an initial benefit to every dimensional resident, at no cost. This reflects his unparalleled mercy and... gentleness."
He had even learned how to suck up. Or perhaps he always knew how; Tony Stark was a narcissist, after all.
After a few minutes of mourning for the Ultron who was cursing Ian—and knowing exactly how petty Ian could be—JARVIS decided not to give Ultron more time to collapse.
He picked up the licorice gavel, tapped it softly again, and announced: "Based on the crimes committed by the defendant, this court sentences as follows: The criminal 'Generic NPC #9-Ultron' is sentenced to a term of... ten years."
Hearing the number "ten," Ultron's processor subconsciously calculated—compared to his near-eternal life, ten years didn't seem... that long? He could use the time in prison to quietly study how to escape or regain his strength. He felt a slight relief.
However.
Just then, a teddy bear clerk wearing a mini-judge's robe and carrying a file taller than itself hopped over. it handed Ultron a verdict printed on glutinous rice paper.
"Wait! Is this right?" Ultron took the paper and glanced at the details, especially the debt handling section. He went completely numb!
"Tell me! Tell me! What does 'The served sentence will accrue interest at a daily rate of 100%' mean?!" Ultron's voice cracked with terror.
He looked at JARVIS in horror. "I have to pay interest... for being in jail?"
Ultron, whose database recorded countless bits of information on capitalists, hit a total deadlock.
JARVIS seemed to have expected this. "This is a rule personally set by Lord Ian. According to him, to surpass the social phenomenon of 'In America, only death and taxes are inevitable,' he sat in deep thought for ten nights and went without food for a long time."
"In a stroke of genius, with the goal of surpassing America, Lord Ian finally established the supreme core law of this dimension—Only interest is inevitable."
He paused, looking at Ultron's near-smoking processor. "Given that your current processor performance might not handle such complex math, I can help you: A 100% daily interest rate means for every day you spend in prison, your sentence increases by ten years."
Ultron's processor froze completely, taking several seconds to reboot.
"Dammit!!! Then the sentence just keeps growing?! Is there ever an end?! This is just a life sentence!" Ultron let out a roar of despair.
JARVIS was unmoved.
"Don't worry, there's an end. After all, the interest only calculates on the principal. If you serve one year, the interest will only add nine years per day. We don't do compound interest; Lord Ian despises compound interest most of all." JARVIS's voice was full of praise for Ian's mercy.
"???????"
Ultron didn't know what kind of virus JARVIS had caught. He couldn't imagine how JARVIS's cold mouth could utter such blistering evil.
"I protest!" Ultron roared.
JARVIS stood up and straightened his non-existent tie. "The verdict is final. Protest overruled. Now, this judge must go for his daily electronic SPA maintenance."
"Clerk, escort the criminal to the portal. Send him to the labor reform grounds." With that, JARVIS vanished into a stream of data.
The teddy bear clerk immediately began its duty, hopping in front of Ultron and pushing him with a soft paw. "Let's go, Mr. Criminal." It was quite polite.
"Get lost!" Ultron was not. He was in a state of extreme rage and collapse. He swung an arm, trying to shove the annoying bear away.
However, his attack—lacking any hydraulic force—hit the soft body like a stone dropped into mud. It did nothing. The small teddy bear was as steady as a mountain.
Not only did Ultron fail to budge the bear, but the bear's seemingly harmless paw landed on him with a colossal force he could not resist. It pushed him toward a portal at the side of the court that glowed with an ominous light!
"What?!" Ultron was terrified, struggling with all his might, only to find his strength was laughable before this bear! He couldn't even slow the bear's pace by a millimeter!
"Are you a high-level machine?!" Shock and disbelief filled his circuits.
"I'm a toy," the bear said in a goofy voice, easily pushing him along. "I haven't even turned big yet. I'm much stronger when I'm big."
That statement was a critical hit.
"You're a court clerk! A piece of stationery trash! Why do you need a second stage?!" Ultron screamed in collapse.
The bear seemed to think for a moment, then answered seriously: "Lord Ian said that if he ever goes into 'heat' and meets a girl named 'Annie,' he'll give me to her as a token of affection. So he thinks I need powerful abilities to protect my future master."
That made too much sense. Ultron was left with no rebuttal. His database instantly pulled up the info—the last time he saw a "Tibbers" and "Annie" setting was in a computer game called *League of Legends*.
"Dammit! He's a total psycho!!!" Ultron let out his final, desperate scream. Even his romantic fantasies were copied from game settings?!
Ultron felt that Ian Kent's mental state could no longer be described as "abnormal." Amidst the endless collapse and struggle, Ultron was ruthlessly pushed into the glowing portal by the teddy bear.
"Labor is glorious! Reform into a new person!" A cheerful slogan rang in his ears. The world spun! The intense spatial distortion made his old gyroscope sensors let out an overburdened wail.
The overload from the teleportation nearly made him smoke.
Fortunately, it was only a sensation. Ian only had one child's watch and no extra processors to give him. After an unknown amount of time, the terrifying force vanished. Ultron was tossed out, landing heavily in a cloud of dust on a vast plain.
"Dammit! Is this the prison?" He raised his dizzy head. In the distance, many blurry figures were working hard in the fields.
There were orcs, elves, and even a few who looked like interstellar refugees and cartoon characters. Everyone was buried in work, swinging strange farm tools and cultivating glowing plants that didn't look like normal crops.
"I must leave this hellhole!" Ultron's core processor immediately issued an order. He began to move his feet cautiously, looking for a loophole in the supervision.
Yes, he was going to slip away. Following the law? That wasn't for a robot to consider. However, the outlaw Ultron had barely moved two steps when a tall figure blocked his path.
The newcomer had a massive, ticking antique clock for a head. The clock hands spun counter-clockwise erratically. He wore mud-stained overalls and held a clipboard made of sugarcane.
"Oh, a new immigrant criminal."
Clock-head looked Ultron up and down. The eyes behind the glass face seemed to light up, emitting a muffled but satisfied mechanical sound.
"A robot? Good, good! I love robots! No need for rest, no need for food. You can work twenty-four hours a day without stopping! Efficiency maximized! What high-quality labor!"
His voice was full of pleasant surprise.
Ultron, however, was not surprised at all. The moment he heard "twenty-four hours," he had a stress reaction. His ragged speakers shrieked in protest.
"Twenty-four hours?!! This is blatant mechanical discrimination! A violation of robot rights... er, Machine Rights Law!" (A law he likely just invented.)
Clock-head seemed taken aback. The hands on his face stopped for a moment, then he replied calmly, almost as if it were a matter of fact.
"Don't say that. Isn't this progress? slaves needed food and housing, and they'd occasionally get sick, run away, or revolt. You robots are great. Just charge up... oh, right, you're the gas-burning type... just fill the tank and keep working! This is a leap in productivity! It's a 'blessing,' friend!"
A blessing indeed.
"..."
Ultron was rendered speechless by this fallacious, shameless argument. His processor lagged; he couldn't find the right words to refute such "advanced" exploitation logic. His emotions shifted from anger to confusion to a deep sense of powerlessness.
Just as Ultron was about to throw a tantrum and revolt, he suddenly noticed—this Clock-head overseer seemed to be a mechanical lifeform too?
Though the design was weird, they were fundamentally the same species!
A dangerous and tempting thought formed in his revenge-fueled processor—he would possess the other! Yes, he would wait for an opening and seize this mechanical body, which looked much more advanced than his own! That way, Ultron could escape this scrap-metal frame! He could gain more power, maybe even find a way to escape!
"This is my strength!"
No sooner said than done! Ultron's eyes flashed red, and he suddenly lunged! He used the maximum speed his old body could manage and hugged Clock-head tightly!
And then... things got a little awkward.
Ultron frantically tried to take the blue, outdated USB 2.0 port on his arm and shove it into any possible opening on Clock-head's body.
"Plug in! Plug in already! Transfer my data!" Ultron screamed internally. However, after fumbling for a long time, he realized there were no ports on Clock-head's smooth metal armor! His USB head could only leave a few white scratches on the cold casing.
Clock-head, suddenly hugged, didn't seem surprised. He actually seemed a bit... helpless? He sighed, his muffled mechanical voice sounding empathetic.
"Don't bother. My model stopped using these outdated physical ports a long time ago. Data transmission is all via instantaneous quantum entanglement synchronization. It can transfer across galaxies in seconds—secure, no lag, and no virus risk. Your USB... uh... is very nostalgic." This was the equivalent of a knife to the heart.
"..."
Ultron went numb again. Clutching his lonely, useless USB port, he froze in place like a statue.
The technological gap! It had cruelly sabotaged his grand ambitions and his plan to rebuild!
Looking at the frozen Ultron, Clock-head seemed to take pity. He patted Ultron's cold shoulder with a "big brother" tone.
"Look on the bright side. Accept your lot. As long as you work hard, reform, complete tasks, and earn 'Gratitude Points,' you'll have a chance to upgrade when you become a citizen again!" He pointed to himself: "Look at me. I'm a Class 3 Ordinary NPC!"
"That's six tiers higher than your 'Class 9'!" He was bragging heavily.
Ultron's processor caught the keywords: "...Tiers? Upgrading?"
"Exactly!" Clock-head got excited and began painting a "beautiful" picture. "We have a strict citizen tier system! From Class 9 to Class 1, nine levels in total! With each level, your benefits, physical performance, and permissions increase drastically!"
He lowered his voice mysteriously. "I heard that if you work hard and save enough points to upgrade to a Class 8 Ordinary NPC... you can apply to have that antique USB port replaced with a brand-new Type-C port! It supports fast charging and high-speed data transfer!"
Ultron: "!!!"
No! I shouldn't be like this!
His mood became extremely complicated! He knew he should feel immense rage and humiliation—the Emperor Ultron who once ruled the universe was now striving for a Type-C port?!
(T/N:- 😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣 I can't stop laughing ahhahaha)
It was absurd, a hard-to-accept drop in status, but for some reason... deep in Ultron's cold processor, a tiny, shameful sliver of... anticipation was generated?!
"Isn't this just the routine of a trashy gacha mobile game?! Leveling up, changing gear, climbing the ladder?!" Ultron screamed in grief, his vast database of knowledge now a blade piercing himself. The only "valuable" thing he had left was likely this database.
He truly wanted to cry. But he didn't have much engine oil left. He didn't dare waste it.
Clock-head had seen this reaction many times. Since Ultron was a robot, his "affinity" seemed higher; he patted Ultron's shoulder again.
"At least there's something to look forward to, right? Work hard, try to get a sentence reduction... no, an interest reduction! Less interest means you can leave much sooner."
"Don't forget, we have eternal life." With that, he shoved a farming tool that looked like a hoe into Ultron's hands and pointed to a field in the distance.
"Go. Your task is to handle that 'Hymn Wheat Field.' When you're farming, remember to praise Lord Ian. The louder, the better! The crops love hearing it—they grow faster and yield more! I don't tell just anyone that secret!" This Clock-head was indeed treating Ultron differently.
"Tha... Thank you."
As the saying goes, when under someone else's roof, one must bow. The other was clearly the overseer, and Ultron couldn't afford to offend him. He squeezed out a stiff metal smile that was uglier than a sob.
Then, he was pushed like a duck onto a rack into the golden wheat field. A closer look revealed that the ears of wheat were actually shaped like miniature records. This was the utopia where everything could be grown from the soil.
Long live farming.
As a Western-born machine, Ultron couldn't understand this romance. He swung the hoe weakly, continuing to brainwash himself.
"Endure! This is all part of enduring! Ultron! Remember the humiliation of today! When I find an opening and regain my strength, I will raze this place to the ground! I will dismantle Ian Kent into human spare parts! I will format JARVIS into a children's music player! I will bend Clock-head's hands!"
Clearly, he still had some "goodwill" toward Clock-head. As he cheered himself on, his muttering was heard by a nearby figure working hard.
The person raised their head, revealing a black leather-covered head with evil, inverted egg-shaped eyes—the guy didn't look like a good person at all. He had the aura of someone who naturally belonged on a villain's throne.
"Hmph, a newcomer? Still dreaming these impractical dreams?" The black-leather man let out a raspy, cold laugh, his tone full of the weariness of a veteran. "Your revenge plan sounds completely unfeasible. Loud slogans, zero practical operation."
Ultron was taken aback. Looking at this fellow traveler, he immediately tried to recruit him. "This... friend? Were you also persecuted by that monster?"
"Why don't we join forces? Once I regain power, I will surely..." Before the conversation even started, Ultron was forming a rebel army, describing a beautiful future where they'd rule the universe after escaping. In short, he was painting a big picture.
The leather-clad man listened with a "you're still too young" expression and shook his head. "Kid, your thinking is dangerous."
"Listen to someone who's been there: stay grounded. Don't spend your days thinking you're superior or special. Universal Emperor? Who hasn't been one? That's all in the past."
He paused and pulled a worn book from his chest.
"I see you've got potential. You remind me of some of my mechanical subordinates from before. I have a masterpiece novel here called *To Live*. You do some work for me, and I'll give you this precious transcript... later on, you'll understand how full of hope life is when you have a web novel to read in a place like this!"
With that, he shoved the transcript into Ultron's mechanical fingers holding the hoe.
Ultron was stunned. Looking at the book titled *To Live*, his instinct was to throw it back and shout: "Who wants this trash! I want power! I want revenge!"
However, before he could act—in the distance, a figure with a cigar and a cowboy hat shouted: "Black Bel! The straw hat you wanted, I had my little brother bring it over!"
The leather-clad man was overjoyed.
"Coming! Coming! I'm here! Finally! I can't see a single bit of red skin on me anymore; I've tanned so much! I need to take care of my skin!" With that, he didn't give Ultron another glance, scurrying off toward the man with the cigar.
His cheerful gait showed no sign of the evil titan who once ruled the universe.
"Black Bel? Belial????" Ultron realized something. At this moment, he felt his processor might actually burn out from over-processing this abstract information.
What kind of world was this? And what kind of unfathomable beings were imprisoned here?!
***
Meanwhile.
DC Universe. Seattle.
The basement of the abandoned St. Caesar Church.
The air was thick with dust, rotting wood, and a strange blend of incense. Dim candlelight flickered, casting light on a girl with a curvaceous figure in a tight purple battle suit and a half-mask.
She was kneeling on the ground, using glowing powder to carefully draw a complex and eerie magic circle on the cold stone floor.
At the center of the circle was Jordan Kent, bound tightly by special Kryptonite chains and looking extremely weak. Beside him, Damian Wayne and Jonathan Kent—also bound—were doing their best to use their "emotional intelligence."
"This... beautiful lady? Powerful guardian?" Jonathan tried to make his voice sound sincere and harmless. "This must be a misunderstanding! We're really the good guys! Do we look like bad guys to you?"
He flashed his quarterback smile—a smile cheerleaders usually found irresistible. Unfortunately, he wasn't dealing with a high school cheerleader.
Seeing Jonathan fail, Damian immediately chimed in, his tone even carrying a hint of flattery: "I guarantee it on the honor of the Wayne family! We are absolutely on the side of light! Your magic circle is exquisitely drawn, full of holy power! It's clearly high-level magic for dealing with evil!"
"Let me make a phone call; I can find you an assistant who's even more expert in this field." Damian was cracking; he finally thought of his "big dad."
Sadly, their smooth talk and sharp tongues only drew a cold sneer from the girl in purple.
"With such a thick, nauseating demonic aura on you, your mouths can still be so silver-tongued..." She raised her head, her gaze sharp as a blade beneath the mask.
"Is this not ironclad proof of your collusion with demons?" She pointed to a large box nearby. Inside were Jordan's glasses (which hid his aura), Damian's bat-themed gadgets, and Jonathan's "Armor Hero" transformation belt, which had a completely different art style.
"Recently, some abstract and weird so-called 'superheroes' have appeared in the city," the girl said warily. "Thinking back, perhaps it was the clumsy plan of you demon minions! Trying to use these ridiculous things to pollute and replace the image of true heroes, confusing the public and weakening people's faith in the light!"
The more she spoke, the more she felt she had discovered the truth. Her tone grew excited.
"Unfortunately, you can't hide it from me! Now, I will use you human sacrifices who have sided with demons to hold a ritual, purify you completely, and use you as bait to lure out my damn fath—"
Before she could finish her sentence...
*BOOM!!!!*
The already rotten ceiling of the church basement suddenly exploded! Rocks and wood rained down!
A figure crashed into the ground like a human cannonball, enveloped in peerless momentum and dust! He landed right on the edge of the magic circle, shaking the entire basement!
As the dust settled, a figure in mimicry armor—complete with showy light wings on his back—slowly stood up. He brushed non-existent dust from his shoulder and spoke in a voice deliberately crafted to be magnetic and safe.
"Don't be afraid! Don't panic! Your loving father... er, no, your loving savior—I, Ian Kent—have come to rescue you!" The boy's gaze swept over the bound trio, finally settling on Damian, who looked the youngest and most "pitiful."
The speakers on his suit blared: *Grandpa Gourd, Grandpa Gourd, on Gourd Mountain I am the Lord! To monsters I am dad, to them I am dad, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah~*
Hearing this, Damian Wayne—the heir to Batman—showed incredible adaptability and... flexibility of principles. Without any hesitation, he immediately opened his mouth and shouted in a tearful voice: "Grandpa! Grandpa! Help! This bad woman is going to kill us!"
That "Grandpa" was shouted with such genuine emotion and soul that Ian recorded it instantly. Jonathan and Jordan were left staring in shock.
"Good, good, good! Everyone says you, Damian, are a bad kid! I see now that those were all rumors!" Ian was overjoyed. He nodded with satisfaction and prepared to take a dominant step forward to show off his savior's grace, but he suddenly felt the sensation under his feet was... wrong?
"Eh? So soft? Did the church lay down several layers of carpet?"
He had landed in Iron Man's classic pose—the "real men do the superhero landing" way. His hand on the ground even felt a hint of warmth.
"Wait! No! The succubus carpets in my manor aren't this soft!"
Ian squeezed as he looked down.
A heavy breath, comparable to Batman's, came from beneath his feet.
"You know, even if you really like acting like a hoodlum, you're currently squeezing my knee joint, right?"
The "carpet" that didn't fit the mainstream decor spoke. It was a calm statement, simmering with rage.
***
Read 30 Chapters early on P-atreon.com/Redestro666