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

Page 9

after all.

Americans don't really have an iron will, so seeing a psychologist is actually quite common in this country, and many people don't quite understand why mental health services are so popular in the United States.

Is this a competition to see who has the worst misery?

Madison was somewhat surprised upon hearing this.

Is there a prize money if you win?

Ian once again demonstrated his unique focus. Madison curled his lip and unleashed his eye-rolling skills, a level he was certain to win the eye-rolling contest.

“I also see a psychologist often. Even if I win a prize, it's because I'm the one who wins.” She held up her palm and turned it around, trying to let the sunlight shine on her freshly painted nails.

What did your doctor say?

The blonde girl asked casually.

Ian thought about it.

"The doctor said I have some mental health issues."

He still didn't choose to hide it.

Madison scoffed, "That's how all psychologists are. They just like to scare people. How else would they make money? The key is how you see yourself."

Her words had a philosophical flavor; it was hard to imagine that a high school student who consistently got single-digit grades in every subject could say such things. Ian pondered for a moment after hearing this.

"I think my psychologist's diagnosis was a bit too conservative. To be honest, I think my mental health issues are probably at the level of the top student in our school."

He spoke seriously.

"what?"

Madison was shocked.

"You're going to compare yourself to this? Your competitive spirit is even stronger than mine?" Madison exclaimed, finding it outrageous. He looked at Ian as if he had seen some incomprehensible, unknown creature.

And at this time.

The teacher had already started the first lesson. Just as the teacher was talking about "the turning point of World War II", a deafening roar suddenly came from outside the window.

immediately.

It was a sudden, earth-shaking event.

Several students screamed and crawled under the table.

The history teacher glanced out the window, then returned to the podium, tapped the blackboard, and calmly adjusted his glasses. "There's no need for you to panic," he said.

"It's just that the plane crashed again... It won't affect everyone's classes. In Metropolis, this is normal. Superman must have already saved those unfortunate passengers."

The history teacher talked about the plane crash as if it were a casual conversation, his tone incredibly calm—no wonder it's Metropolis, which is right next to Gotham.

It truly has a certain "urban" charm.

"cool."

Madison even whistled from below.

The students all looked enlightened, and quickly accepted the history teacher's reassurance. The classroom returned to a harmonious atmosphere.

"..."

Ian's expression was quite interesting. He turned to look at the thick smoke billowing in the distance outside the classroom window, hesitated for a moment, but ultimately chose to blend into the harmonious atmosphere of the group.

He was just talking about his mental state.

At that moment, I felt that I might be the only normal person in the classroom.

Nobody realized it.

Has the plane that crashed already exploded?

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Chapter 11 Upgrading the Divine Artifact! The Mysterious Shadow!

There may be riots, screams, and bewildered crowds running around on the city streets, but none of this seems to affect the peaceful atmosphere in Ian's classroom.

"In the summer of 1942, Hitler launched Operation Blue, intending to seize the Caucasus oil fields and cut off the Soviet Union's oil supply." The history teacher's voice was like background white noise, soothing and lulling.

Many students who suffer from insomnia have gotten rid of the disease, but for Ian, even if he listens attentively in class, he cannot gain the experience points of the [Student] profession again for the knowledge he has already learned.

He is thinking.

They wondered if their superhero dad had really saved the passengers from the plane crash, and if so, how could there have been a plane explosion and fireworks outside?

Ian was quietly lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Madison was doodling in her textbook with colored markers, drawing President Washington's clothes as a skirt and adding two cat ears to his head.

"How about that?" Madison asked smugly, pushing the textbook towards them.

"It looks much better than before, doesn't it?"

Ian did not respond to her attempt to strike up a conversation, which the blonde girl was not surprised by, and she once again began to harass Nixon, one of the most controversial figures in American history.

Neither of them were paying attention in class, but the teacher didn't bother them.

After all, top students don't need to be cared for, and poor students... of course, don't need to be cared for either. How much do public school teachers earn in a month? Why would they worry so much about the students' courses?

that's it.

A class passes quickly.

[You diligently engaged in logical reasoning, and although you came up with no result, it still consumed a lot of brain cells. [Student] Professional Experience Points +1]

Although Ian couldn't understand why his superhero dad would let the plane crash, he didn't come away empty-handed; the system's performance remained as abstract as ever.

"I've really gone to great lengths for Metropolis, and this is all the experience points I get? This isn't cheating at all." Of course, Ian's level of abstraction was no less impressive.

At noon.

The cafeteria was as noisy as a market, but Ian's seat was eerily quiet. A few girls pretended to pass by, stealing glances at him, while the boys looked at his plate with either envy or resignation.

For the same price, Ian's portion of food was almost twice that of others.

“Damn it.” Sitting across from Ian at the long table, Sam Winchester, a tall, thin boy from the next class, stared at the mountain of fried chicken that Ian had piled up on his plate.

"how did you do it?"

He frowned, as if he couldn't figure it out.

"It's very simple. Just smile at the aunties and say 'Good afternoon,' and they will feel your kindness and reciprocate with their goodwill."

Ian has always been the kind of person who likes to share and doesn't like to keep things to himself. However, his heartfelt experience and insights only elicited a stiff smile from Sam Winchester.

“My brother said something similar, but is there a way that doesn’t rely so much on individual performance?” Sam Winchester asked somewhat awkwardly. He was actually a handsome young man, but he didn’t seem very confident in his modeling skills.

"Have."

Ian nodded.

His response brought a look of anticipation to Sam Winchester's face.

"If you pay more, you can get more food."

Ian set out his cutlery, his tone sincere. However, Sam Winchester's expression remained less than cheerful. The boy took his food to another table, muttering things like "damn world" under his breath.

"What a strange classmate."

Ian shook his head, lowered his head and began to show off. He was now like a starving ghost reincarnated, so he naturally had to concentrate on eating when he was eating.

The afternoon classes were also very simple, at least for Ian. He learned other knowledge by using time management methods and still gained a few experience points in the [Student] profession.

When the school bell rang, the students rushed towards the classroom door like wild animals released from their cages, while Ian's deskmate Madison was leisurely packing his schoolbag.

"Oh, right."

She seemed to have found something and took out a small gift box from her bag. "This is a gift I brought you from Los Angeles. Remember to give me a separate set of exam answers for next month's exam."

The girl handed the gift to Ian.

"That's not the exam answer; it's just that my selection of questions was more accurate." Ian corrected the other person's unethical wording while accepting the gift box from their hand.

"it's the same."

Madison shrugged indifferently.

She watched as Ian opened the gift box—and inside lay an ancient pendant. It was a cross pendant, but entirely black, made of some kind of bone, and felt cold to the touch.

The chain of the entire pendant is thin yet strong, with a subtle dark silver sheen.

"Even though it's a cheap item, I feel like it's special and might be worth a lot of money." Madison was trying to inflate the value of the gift, though she might also be hoping to snag a bargain.

Humans, you know.

This is all the case.

"The texture is quite nice." Ian originally just wanted to put it in his pocket, but under his deskmate's expectant gaze, he reluctantly put it around his neck.

Just the right size.

Just as Ian was wondering if Madison had secretly choked him to find out how long his neck was, his expression suddenly turned incredulous and he froze.

"What the hell?"

Ian was quite surprised.

I saw.

Above the rage bar below his gaze, a new indicator had quietly appeared—[Slow Corrosion]. This negative status deducted one point of health every minute. Of course, since he had neither a mana bar nor a health bar, Ian could only roughly assume that the pendant was secretly draining his life force.

He was initially somewhat surprised.

immediately.

A surge of joy welled up within him. What might be a terrible curse to others was, for this berserker, a perfectly suitable "beginner's artifact."

“A wonderful gift.”

Ian's praise came from the bottom of his heart.

"Of course it's great, but look at whose taste it is... This immediately washes away your nerdy vibe." Madison was still vainly praising himself.

however.