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

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“This is what I mean by ‘good show’—a spectacular drama is about to unfold in heaven.” Crowley continued to swirl the wine in his glass, leaving viscous marks on the glass's surface from the amber liquid.

“I call this the ‘Revelation Special Edition.’ As long as I’m on Earth, I’ll have the best front-row seats to watch the show.” He revealed his true purpose for coming to Earth.

His tone was full of schadenfreude.

The Demon King showed no confusion about the extraterrestrial invasion Ian mentioned, which suggests that anyone with a modicum of power already knew about it.

"Um, could you not just watch the show, but also consider invading Earth, committing evil deeds, doing whatever you want, causing trouble, and being lawless?"

Ian's golden eyes stared to the side, glancing at the moving oil painting on the wall—a hellish landscape in the painting, which was changing seasons in rhythm with Crowley's tapping fingers.

He still longed for that magnificent manor.

Even if it's currently filled with something dirty.

This did not affect the boy's love for it.

His golden eyes gleamed in the dim light.

“Hmm? I thought we had already skipped this step.” Crowley paused in his action of adding ice to the glass, the ice cubes making a crisp clinking sound in the amber liquid.

"Destroying the world is not something I'm willing to do; I'm not the kind of demon without ambition." He spat the olive pit into the gilded ashtray, and the pit made a crisp "ding" sound.

This guy has a good taste in food and wine.

I rinsed my mouth.

Crowley looked at Ian again.

His tone was serious.

"Actually, there is no script that Lucifer wants to set for me. I have no interest in causing havoc on the world. In my opinion, the world is a wonderful place."

"Not only is there no beauty like in hell, but the human world is also quite dangerous. It's not a place you can just invade whenever you have the chance. Do I look like the kind of stupid and arrogant demon?"

Crowley sighed gracefully.

This gesture made him look more like a human stockbroker than a demon king.

“You can be,” Ian said sincerely.

"But I don't want to be."

Crowley put down his glass, the bottom of which clinked against the coffee table. "The fact that I was able to use Constantine to lure this angel proves that I'm clever enough."

Ian was quite disappointed by his resolute attitude. Ian slumped his shoulders in disappointment, a gesture that made him look like a poor man who had gone all-in on a lottery but won nothing.

Stare at the boy's expression.

Crowley smiled slightly, tapping his fingers lightly on the sofa armrest. "I've investigated you. I know what you want to do. You want to be a superhero on Earth and unite humanity's faith."

"This is a pretty good disguise and choice. If I were to do something, I'd give you the reputation of saving the world." It's unclear what Ian really meant to Crowley.

However, he does have a good understanding of some of Ian's tactics.

however.

In fact, Ian's intention to make him do evil was not so complicated.

“No, I just want this wonderful manor.” Ian blinked, then shook his head honestly, revealing his incredibly simple thoughts without any attempt to hide them.

As soon as these words came out.

Crowley looked visibly stunned.

"?????"

The Demon King's expression froze on his face.

A full three seconds of silence fell over the reception room.

“You want this estate? Fine, then I’ll give it to you as my apology.” Crowley put down his wine glass and made a decisive decision.

He clapped his hands in the air.

A well-dressed demon immediately emerged from the shadows.

“Transfer this estate to this young man’s name, and while you’re at it, change the contracts of the gardeners and other staff so that they also pledge allegiance to this young man.”

Crowley gave instructions to the demon in human skin, and the taciturn demon butler nodded. He glanced at Ian, then turned and disappeared into the shadows again.

at this time.

The bone piano suddenly emitted a series of piercing notes.

"Crowley."

A hoarse voice emanated from beneath the keys, the talking piano expressing its opinion: "How can you, such a coward, manage to govern Hell so well?"

The sound of the bone piano was full of sarcasm.

"hehe."

Crowley glanced at the old grand piano, his tone calm but unyielding: "You're his now, so continuing to fan the flames isn't a wise choice."

In this regard.

The human bone piano let out a cold laugh.

"I have my own principles! I'm not like you!"

The words fell.

It also played a sharp note.

"Can you play the piano by yourself?"

Ian looked at the piano thoughtfully.

"Ah."

Crowley ignored the bone piano and turned to Ian to speak.

"You see, this is the downside of old-fashioned people not knowing how to use the internet. It's different for someone like me who follows trends. I can understand what kind of person you are in ten minutes on the internet."

“This is much more useful than inefficient divination.” As he spoke, he casually fumbled around on the sofa, showing off his tablet computer with a showy air.

Not just the latest model.

It's still the flagship brand of Wayne Enterprises.

"Forehead……"

Ian saw this.

I'm a bit conflicted.

He had never encountered such a formidable demon in his entire life. This guy was far, far more terrifying than those demons who clamored to slaughter heaven and earth and kill his parents.

"If you keep sending me things like this, you'll become my Uncle Crowley."

Ian didn't want to sigh, but the demon's methods were truly vicious. He was indeed worthy of being called the Demon King. It was normal for a fourteen-year-old boy like himself to be unable to deal with such a being.

“I very much hope that we can maintain this friendly relationship.” Crowley smiled like a businessman who had just closed a big deal; that’s the kind of air the devil at the crossroads had.

The Crossroads Demons are a special group of demons, and can indeed be seen as merchants of Hell. They are characterized by red eyes, often appearing in the guise of beautiful women, and can grant any human wish, but at an exorbitant price. The transaction period is generally ten years, after which hellhounds drag the trader's soul to Hell.

to be frank.

It was only because Crowley didn't pull out the contract that Ian would have signed it instantly; he'd been searching for the entrance to Hell for ages. Not only the magic circle, but Ian also remembered promising his father he'd build a prison in Hell.

Ian's memory of his previous conversation with his father was "already" hazy, but he remembered that he had definitely promised this, and he absolutely could not take his father's promise to heart.

"You're making me feel embarrassed."

Ian sighed.

I'm also very confused.

He killed the other man's son.

Surely that son couldn't also be part of an invasion mission orchestrated by "the higher-ups," could he?

How ridiculous!

This grudge must be deeply buried in the other party's heart, and they must be waiting for an opportunity to take revenge! The Demon King Crowley seemed oblivious to Ian's expectations and speculations.

“Actually, there are only two possibilities: worth it or not. If it’s worth it, no one understands human nature better than the devil.” Crowley seemed quite frank.

Ian raised an eyebrow at the sight.

This gesture made him look at least three seconds older than his actual age.

“I have a book and a trash can, they might be with you.” If the delinquent girl gets caught, Ian feels his assets will definitely be in Crowley’s hands.

This guess doesn't seem to be wrong.

"Mr. Abyss Barrel, I remember this boastful demon. He impressed me not only with his twisted mind, but also with his incredibly clumsy undercover skills."

Crowley nodded and said with a sigh, "However, that demon is very loyal to you, and he has fooled many of my subordinates by waving the banner of the Triple Demon."

He was clearly aware of the demonic minotaur's actions all along.

All of the previous claims were misunderstandings.

It's likely that this misunderstanding arose after something happened that Ian was unaware of.

“As for that book…” Crowley hesitated for a moment, then took out a remote control. With the second button pressed, a gold-plated birdcage slowly descended from the ceiling.

I saw.

In the cage.

"Ian's Book of Wrath" is slamming wildly against the railing.

The pages flapped like the wings of an angry bird.

"It seems to be very loyal to you as well."

Crowley watched with great interest as Ian pried open the birdcage with his bare hands. He watched as Ian, who had instantly calmed down and transformed back into "Ian's Beloved Magic Book," stuffed the demon book under his belly.

Once Ian got his hands on the book, it became as quiet as a satisfied cat.

"That's my personal charm," Ian said without batting an eye. He used another truthful statement today, which was indeed a little too extravagant.

Crowley swirled his glass noncommittally.

“I’ve had it for many years. This book is very special, but its power is only so-so.” He paused for a moment, as if carefully choosing his words.