radicalducati Page 450
Page 450
People have grown tired of seeing superheroes in their glory. However, who knows how many young people would pay a dollar for the copyright to download their embarrassing moments and use them as wallpapers?
That's what business geniuses are like; they never miss an opportunity to make money.
A little makes a lot, and sand makes a tower.
In contrast to Wonder Woman.
Actually, neither Clark nor Bruce Wayne were in much better spirits.
Deep within one of Bruce Wayne's backup Batcaves, the air is thick with the smells of disinfectant, engine oil, and various potions being boiled. This is perhaps where Batman frequently uses the "medicinal bath" method to ingest enhancement and repair drugs through his skin. Batman is taking care of the mentally sensitive Injustice Superman, while Clark is in charge of imprisoning Black Adam.
The lower levels of the Batcave contained specially constructed cells for imprisoning extraordinary individuals. Inside, Black Adam sat on a cold metal bed, bound by a unique energy field. The abstract journey of consciousness and Ian's "treatment" seemed to have drained most of his energy, but the arrogance and ferocity of the ancient king had not been completely eliminated.
Seeing Clark remove his shackles, he suddenly raised his head, his dark pupils burning with resentment.
"That's not fair, Superman."
Black Adam's voice was hoarse, yet laced with provocation, "You didn't truly defeat me! It was that kid... who used some evil means to steal my power!"
"You haven't truly faced me yet. If you have the guts, let me go, and we'll have a fair one-on-one fight!" He had clearly done his research on the basics of this world before stirring up trouble.
Clark, who was about to leave, stopped and stood outside the transparent energy wall of the cell. He didn't speak, but simply turned his head slightly, revealing his blue eyes that always held a sense of sunshine and gentleness.
At this moment, Superman's eyes had subtly changed—deep within his pupils, a dazzling, molten gold-like color began to spread.
Within it flickered a dangerous crimson hue. He didn't release any energy, nor did he deliberately glare; it was merely this subtle change in color, and the accompanying intangible yet soul-shaking sense of absolute power, that pierced through the energy wall and pressed down on Black Adam's heart as if it were a tangible substance.
It was terrifying; it was a sense of oppression that transcended the physical realm and went straight to the origin of life, as if the weight of the entire universe would collapse down on us in the next second.
"what???"
All of Black Adam's provocative words caught in his throat.
He felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his heart, and his breath caught in his throat. His ancient instincts screamed a warning that the alien before him was terrifying.
Black Adam's brain is spinning.
next moment.
He shrank his neck with great difficulty and slight movement, his momentum instantly weakened, his voice dropped several octaves, and even carried a hint of barely perceptible embarrassment.
“Okay, you misheard me. I meant… I… I want a pillow. The bed here is a bit hard.” Black Adam demonstrated his lightning-fast kneeling ability.
Normally, he's the kind of person who would fight to the death, but the current situation is clearly unusual. Black Adam doesn't want to be a hapless guy who just recovered and then died again.
Forbearance.
Forbearance.
We still need to be patient.
Black Adam recalled the "Dragon King's Secret Technique" that appeared in several literary works he had absorbed while scanning and absorbing modern knowledge. He was more mature than the ambitious man he had been back then.
"it is good."
The golden-red hue in Clark's eyes quickly faded, returning to a deep blue.
He nodded, said nothing, and his figure blurred and disappeared from the spot. Less than half a second later, he reappeared, holding a soft-looking pillow with a bat logo.
"Don't play tricks."
Clark stuffed the pillow into the supply chute.
Black Adam took the pillow, hugged it to his chest, and looked at it with a complicated expression.
He watched as the terrifying Superman turned around, preparing to leave the cell area. After thinking for a moment, he suddenly stood up, leaned against the bars, and pressed his face against them.
“Wait! Listen to me! Your child, he’s horrible! He’s not what you think he is at all!” Black Adam’s face wore a strange expression that was a mixture of fear and urgency.
Clark paused for a moment, but did not turn around.
Black Adam, as if grasping at a straw, spoke rapidly: "He devoured it! He devoured the darkness that controlled me! It wasn't defeating, it was devouring! It was absorbing! I could feel it! Even that dark power capable of twisting the mind was afraid of him! It was being assimilated by him!"
"I can't even imagine what evil is hidden inside him! Keeping him around is like raising a tiger to cause trouble!" Black Adam shouted, still shaken.
Clark finally turned around slowly, his face showing no surprise or anger, but rather a complex expression that was hard to describe, like a great deal of helplessness.
"Are you talking about the kind of 'evil' like 'Dark Aunt Falls in Love with Me with a One-Armed Arm' or 'The Great Darkness Eavesdrops on My Heart's Voice, and the Light Woman Gets Furious'?"
He was referring to Ian's private essays written after he regained his courage.
Black Adam, of course, couldn't understand.
"??????" Black Adam was completely dumbfounded. Dark Aunt? A one-armed woman? A woman of light? What on earth is this?! What the hell is this Kryptonian talking about?!
He opened his mouth, wanting to continue babbling and trying to sow discord between the father and son—however, the next moment, Black Adam's mouth was sealed shut by the old father with the leftover tape.
Superman vanished again in an instant at super speed, only to reappear the next second, holding the roll of wide silver tape with the words "Emergency Seal" printed on it that he hadn't finished using to seal Ian's mouth.
"Ugh?! Ughhhhh!!!" Black Adam tried to back away in terror, but it was too late.
Clark's movements were as fast as lightning, even leaving a slight afterimage.
He ripped out a long piece of tape and precisely slapped it onto Black Adam's mouth, then frantically wrapped it around Black Adam's head at a dazzling speed!
One lap, two laps, ten laps, fifty laps... Finally, Clark tied a knot and even patted the huge, shiny silver end of the tape.
"!!!!!!"
Black Adam's entire head, except for his nose, was almost completely wrapped into an airtight silver mummy head, only able to emit extremely weak and desperate "ooh-ooh" sounds. Clark turned and left, leaving only Black Adam's powerless "ooh-ooh" sounds, muffled by duct tape, faintly echoing in the hum of the force field.
Clearly, Black Adam was a bit less skilled than Ian; he didn't know how to grow a new mouth on his stomach or arm.
Go up the steps.
Clark arrived at the core research lab on the next floor.
The room was filled with flashing screens and sophisticated instruments. Injustice Superman lay flat in the center of a massive device resembling a CT scanner, which was emitting a low, rumbling sound.
Batman sat at the control panel, his white-rimmed glasses fixed on the dizzyingly complex stream of data scrolling across the screen. His expression was hidden beneath his mask, but his jawline was taut, and… Clark keenly noticed that fine beads of sweat were constantly beading on Bruce's forehead, even sliding down the edge of his mask.
This is very unusual. Bruce only exhibits this physiological reaction when faced with extremely difficult situations, or even things beyond his comprehension.
Injustice Superman seemed even more uneasy. He was Superman after all; he must know Batman. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, his voice trembling slightly as he repeatedly asked, "How are you, Bruce? Am I...am I beyond saving? What did that little bastard stuff in my stomach?"
Batman didn't answer him, or even seemed not to hear him at all.
As Clark approached, Bruce abruptly looked up, his white-rimmed glasses "looking" at Clark. Even through the mask, Clark could sense the complexity in the other's gaze.
It's even a bit strange.
"What's wrong, Bruce?"
Clark's heart tightened. Had Ian really gotten himself into some irreparable trouble? Batman's voice, coming through the voice changer, carried a sense of absurdity and frustration that was barely concealed.
“In his belly…” Bruce paused, seemingly finding it difficult to speak, “How should I put it, there is highly concentrated pure angelic power from a higher heavenly plane.”
Clark breathed a slight sigh of relief.
Angelic power doesn't sound like anything dark, at least.
Ian had a great time with the angels.
Clark knew this too.
but.
Batman's next words stunned him.
"Clark, these angelic powers are reverberating in an extremely stable structure... like a pre-programmed hymn that seems to help life incubate."
When the word "hymn" is mentioned.
Batman's voice visibly distorted.
It was as if the word was too hot to handle.
Under Clark's questioning gaze, Batman seemed to have made up his mind, and ripped off the listening earpiece connected to his ear with a data cable and handed it to Clark.
His movements carried a resolute air of "I can't be the only one who's deaf."
"Listen to yourself," Batman's voice was filled with weariness.
Clark looked at the headphones and hesitated for a moment. He possessed super hearing and didn't actually need headphones... In that half-second of hesitation, his super hearing automatically picked up and amplified a faint but undeniably present singing voice emanating from Injustice Superman's body.
"Huluwa, Huluwa, twelve brothers in one belly..."
Chapter 194 Little Delinquent Girl, Queenly Madwoman
Courage, compassion, wisdom, perseverance, humility, honesty, tolerance, hope, temperance, justice, loyalty, and love—twelve qualities are being nurtured under the influence of the hymn.
however.
Most great and significant things are not accepted by people at first. Being a step ahead of one's time is truly awe-inspiring and worthy of praise as genius.
But if it's too far ahead of its time, few people will understand it. Ian is like Tesla, Mendel, Rosalind Franklin, or even Mary Anning and Alan Turing.
Clark Kent was one of the "ordinary people." Upon hearing the hymn, he froze on the spot, his expression completely solidified on his sculpted face.
He finally understood why Bruce was sweating so profusely and why his expression was so strange. So that's what Ian meant by "reform" and "male mother"!
"Twelve gourds on one vine...unafraid of wind and rain, la la la la~"
The ethereal and sacred "hymn" continued to drill into his ears, and Clark felt, for the first time, a strong urge to intentionally shut down his super brain and hearing.
This singing was like the most stubborn brainwashing virus, directly penetrating the depths of Clark's mind through his super hearing, and the god-like figure's expression gradually became out of control.
Ok.
That's right, it's mental pollution.
On the face of the god among men, from his forehead to his chin, every muscle was twitching in an extremely complex, extremely violent, and completely uncontrollable manner.
He even instinctively covered his ears, though it meant nothing to his global hearing.
"Well……"
Clark let out a painful groan, feeling his heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys trembling.
Lying on the testing bed, Injustice Superman's heart sank even further upon seeing this. Even the Superman of this universe was making this face—what on earth was inside his stomach?!
He couldn't lie still any longer. He suddenly sat up on the examination bed, snatched the anti-eavesdropping earpiece that Batman was still holding, and hurriedly put it on his own head.
next moment.
The singing is pleasant to the ears.