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

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The "it smells so good" principle may be the only constant melody in all the worlds.

Does your cloak have a biofield? No!

Ian asked and answered his own question.

He didn't care whether Doctor Strange could understand what a biofield was. While observing Doctor Strange, he was also organizing information and discovered that although he had shared the ability to fly with Doctor Strange...

however.

He didn't lose or weaken the skill's effect as a result. The so-called "borrowing" simply meant that Ian would suffer double the stamina consumption when using the skill.

This also meant that Ian could not share his abilities with every believer for the long term.

"It's just that I'm too weak right now. If I could have six or even seven figures in panel data, this little bit of cost would be almost negligible."

Ian seemed to be deep in thought.

I felt my stomach grow even hungrier.

He quickly revoked the sharing of all abilities.

"Paji~"

Doctor Strange fell straight down from the sky, landing face down on the ground in a starfish shape. He didn't cry out in pain or yell; he just lay there, feeling his hands, which had been given a new lease on life.

After a long time.

"My magic... why is it a little less again?" Doctor Strange slowly raised his head, his tone and expression very strange, and he looked at the evil god not far away.

"Read the contract carefully, Doctor, read it carefully! This is a power rental fee, charged according to the usage time. It's fair and honest, unlike those demon gods who lend power for free." Ian emphasized his conscience. Anyone who has played games knows the difference between pay-per-play games and free-to-play games.

"..."

Doctor Strange felt like he was being completely drained.

He felt a sense of disorientation.

Am I really a mage?

This is clearly a magic-producing machine of an evil god!

"I'm completely drained, completely drained. I'm almost out of magic." Doctor Strange said dejectedly. After Ian kicked him a few times, he finally remembered that he should get up from the ground.

"Actually, I also offer magic loans, calculated annually, with nine out of ten loans and thirteen out of ten." Ian's mind was full of magic, but he had nowhere to use it, so he decided to put his capitalist spirit to use.

The evil god had already added most of his abilities to the shared list. Doctor Strange sensed this, but he dared not borrow these abilities.

"Do you think I can repay this kind of loan? Cultivating magic is much harder than making money." Doctor Strange then threw himself back into the comfortable rocking chair.

Hear the words.

Ian smiled gently.

He was prepared.

"Don't rush me! Once I develop the [Devour] ability, I'll share it with you, and then you can go out and find monsters to eat!" Ian wasn't the kind of traditional demon god loan shark.

He will offer believers a win-win opportunity.

True victory is when everyone wins together.

"You even know what abilities you can develop? Or do you think you can develop whatever abilities you want?" Doctor Strange couldn't help but swallow hard after hearing this.

This is far more terrifying than the fake evil gods mentioned in fairy tales and TV movies.

"This is a complicated matter, related to self-discipline. You wouldn't understand even if I explained it to you." Ian took the opportunity to give his system a nudge, hoping that the system he was clinging to wouldn't let him down.

Some boys, when they're starving, will even bite the system a few times—Ian silently threatened the system in his mind, finding himself becoming more and more adept at threatening others.

【9: 17】

The countdown did not speed up as a result.

However, the system probably already has a good idea of ​​what's going on.

"You just said... to contribute your abilities to you... which means that besides me, do you have other followers on Earth?" Doctor Strange suddenly realized this at this moment.

Ian smiled.

“Actually, there is another god who is also my follower. Now you know how lucky you are to be able to sit at the same table with a god.” Ian was using an honorific title to praise Thor.

Isn't this also a way of elevating oneself?

"So, I'm not one of your top leaders?" Doctor Strange adapted to his role very quickly; he had already begun to consider his own interests.

See this.

"It's alright, you'll also have your chance to become a big boss."

Ian quickly offered encouragement, demonstrating true democracy and freedom: "Whoever contributes the most automatically becomes the leader; there is no rigid hierarchy in the evil god's church."

I can tell.

The young evil god truly valued his own dimensional path to becoming a demon god.

"..."

Doctor Strange had no idea how to evaluate it. He felt that it was more serious than many of the legitimate churches he knew, and it even gave him a strong urge to fight and strive.

"The second-in-command is actually not bad either."

Doctor Strange muttered to himself, trying to reassure himself.

And right now.

Ding dong.

Doorbell rang.

Doctor Strange was taken aback.

"I didn't order takeout."

He stared blankly at the doorway.

“Liar! You just don’t want to share with your god.” Ian got up to open the door. He might have really misunderstood Doctor Strange. The visitor outside wasn’t holding a pizza delivery—it was a tall woman with cascading black hair, wearing gold-rimmed glasses without lenses, with a cold face and sharp eyes.

The doors of the New York Sanctuary were wide open, and a cold wind swirled a few withered leaves into the hall.

"Who are you looking for?"

Ian was the first to ask a question.

The woman frowned.

"Ultimate and invincible ruler of the universe, the final judge, the emperor of all laws, Ian God?" Her voice was also cold, like the wind in the dead of winter, as she looked Ian up and down.

"it's me."

Ian stood in the doorway.

blinked.

My mind is spinning rapidly.

“My father gave me a divine decree, instructing me to come and become your disciple.” The woman seemed quite distrustful of Ian’s teenage appearance, and she pulled a stack of manuscripts from her bosom and handed them to Ian.

oracle.

To become an apprentice.

These are the two waves of keywords.

He instantly helped Ian understand everything.

"Your father is Odin?" Ian's expression showed a hint of surprise, but he still took the manuscript. He would immediately become very energetic whenever he talked to the other party about creation.

"Ah."

The woman nodded.

Cherish words like gold.

She is Hela, the goddess of death in Asgard.

“But your brother Thor says he’s Odin’s only child.” Ian flipped through the manuscript, which still held a trace of warmth, and was greatly shocked. The other party was actually creating a super-restricted comic.

On the manuscript.

The content that comes to mind.

It was all the surging of the sea.

"My comics are bestsellers across the Nine Realms. It's not hard to understand why that old pedantic man is unwilling to acknowledge that I am his child, fearing that I will corrupt his new heir."

Hela's tone carried a hint of sarcasm towards the family.

A familiar story.

A different kernel.

Ian was once again awestruck by the new Marvel. Of course, other people's affairs were none of his concern; he simply quietly began reading Hela's manuscript.

"You two are equally bad, eldest sister, don't talk about second brother."

Ian offered his sharp commentary.

Hear the words.

Hela wasn't angry, but she frowned, her eyes filled with distrust of Ian. "Can someone your age understand my art?"

Her words were practically a challenge to Ian.

"You can question my abilities, or even question whether I'm still developing, which is of course not true. But you cannot question my all-around talent in literary creation."

Ian's passion for literary creation is so profound that he is even willing to sacrifice his reputation in other areas, which shows that he is definitely a writer who truly loves writing.

"Your basic skills are good, with smooth lines and rich details, which shows that you have a certain ability. However, this style of drawing big steamed buns right from the start is too straightforward."

"Hmm, it's too realistic." Ian had already made his judgment after reading through the entire manuscript. "That's why your imagination is being constrained."

"Go out and explore more, and you'll discover that a big steamed bun isn't just a big steamed bun; it can also be a big basketball, or even several big basketballs."

"The universe is so vast that nothing is impossible."

"Also, you must remember that art is not just about displaying power and violence; it also needs to have elements about emotions, growth, and self-discovery."

"Don't always throw the ball so directly at the reader. If you throw too many balls, the reader will get confused. You should only throw the ball when it's appropriate. Sometimes a little subtlety can evoke more resonance."