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

Page 139

Moreover, this skill is like a martial arts manual; not everyone who practices it will achieve the same results.

"This……"

Kassel's jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

He was greatly shocked.

His mouth was so wide open it could fit an orange.

"Have you learned it?"

Ian asked in a deep voice.

"You've learned it... right?" Cassell answered subconsciously, though he wasn't entirely sure what he had learned, but that didn't stop him from making a change in tone at the end.

He defended the dignity of his traditional writing style.

"Good that you've learned it. Remember to ask Mr. Wayne to send the money... Also, I need to see my shares within three days, or I'll go to Gotham and corrupt his son."

"Let his son get addicted to early romance and become hopelessly addicted, and I also know several people from that GBT thing." Ian believed his threat would carry more weight than the Joker's.

“I don’t have his contact information.” Cassel said helplessly, deeply shocked by Ian’s threat—the way this boy threatened people was simply unheard of.

But it was also incredibly terrifying.

Did you bring your phone?

Ian tidied up his manuscript.

"Bring it."

Kassel pulled out his latest mobile phone.

"That's no problem."

Ian's response left Cassel completely bewildered.

Before the bestselling author could figure out what this had to do with Ian asking him to deliver a message, he saw Ian glance at the time on the wall and then begin to see him out the door.

Could it also be seen as rushing?

This kid is really strong.

"It's getting late, I should see a therapist."

Ian grabbed his coat. Although he was now quite tolerant of hot and cold temperatures, he still needed to make people think of him as an ordinary person when he was out in public.

This is how superheroes hide themselves.

"Why are you going to see a psychologist?" Kassel was pushed to the front door, and then to the outside of the courtyard. Before he knew it, he seemed to be standing on the street.

"Since you can ask this question, I think you should see a psychologist." Ian closed the outermost wooden fence and gave Cassel a very polite goodbye.

"Study hard, practice hard, and believe in yourself."

His encouragement was tinged with gentleness.

"..."

Kassel, however, didn't know how to respond.

My head is buzzing.

Standing on the street.

This usually lively writer was rather quiet; his mind was inexplicably polluted, and he didn't even notice the Hellcat emerging from the large iron gate on the side.

“I guess I don’t know how to write a book anymore.” Kassel was still struggling with the writing style. He stopped in front of the house, and Ian’s whispers seemed to keep echoing in his mind.

at this time.

The streets were very quiet.

"Bang~"

But perhaps it wasn't absolutely silent. Suddenly, a loud cracking sound rang out, startling Kassel and snapping him out of his existential reverie.

"Did something explode?" His expression was one of surprise and uncertainty, like a startled large animal, but he looked around but couldn't find the source of the explosion.

"Crack~"

Something was hanging in front of Kassel.

There were also bricks and sawdust.

"The roof of this house has been blown open!" Only then did Kassel realize that the explosion had occurred in the house directly in front of him, with a large hole blown into the roof.

"That is……"

Kassel saw a pink prop shoot into the sky—and then, it seemed as if someone was also shooting into the sky at a dizzying speed from a broken house.

It's a boy.

He raised his hand high.

Anxious expression.

It seems like they're trying to save that toy... which has been fried into a crispy sausage?

"Damn it! What's wrong with this family?!" Cassell rubbed his eyes hard, making sure he wasn't going crazy or that his bed partner had secretly given him some kind of hallucinogenic drug last night.

"Ding Ding Ding ~"

suddenly.

The ringing of the cell phone pulled Kassel back to reality from his daze.

Caller ID.

Bruce Wayne.

Kassel clearly hadn't saved that phone number, yet it was still displayed. However, Kassel was already numb to such things, utterly shocked.

"Hey?"

He answered the phone.

"You need to forget what you just saw." A rather magnetic voice came from the other end of the phone, a unique voice often heard on television.

"Are you really Bruce Wayne?"

Kassel swallowed hard.

"I'm."

The other party gave a brief response.

Have you talked to that boy?

Bruce asked the question that concerned him most.

“We’ve talked, but right now I just want to know what’s going on with this family, and… why you chose me.” Cassel covered the phone and jogged away from the eerie neighborhood.

"Because it's the one you're most comfortable using—and also, tell that boy that his dad said he'd go bad if he got rich, and that I should put his share in his trust fund!"

"Damn brat, he blocked me!"

Bruce's voice was tinged with annoyance.

Kassel didn't listen.

He was lamenting that he wasn't the kind of man who would be admired and considered highly capable even by the wealthiest. And while this middle-aged man, who liked to daydream like a child, was feeling depressed...

Followed by.

Bruce's voice rang out again, "You don't need to care about this family's situation. You just need to keep your mouth shut. I know you haven't even started writing a single word of your new book. If you don't want to pay the penalty for breach of contract, then complete the commission I've given you—if all goes well, I guarantee your worth will double again."

A classic carrot and stick approach.

The threats and promises of those with financial power carry significant weight.

“I understand.” Cassel stopped and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. “But I still need to go back and think about it. I need to sort out what I saw today.”

His words alerted Bruce.

"What else do you need to figure out about the stuff he wrote?" Bruce's voice was flat, but his skepticism was still very clear.

"Forehead……"

Kassel's expression became conflicted. "Actually, some of the parts that boy wrote were quite good. For example, there's a scene where Superman is carrying Metropolis with one hand, yet he still manages to kiss the female lead and make a domineering declaration. That kind of romance actually has a lot of appeal in certain markets."

He couldn't quite accept it.

But that doesn't mean he can't discern the market.

Cassell believed that a business tycoon like Bruce Wayne must also have the ability to discern.

however.

"This isn't the book I want you to read!"

Bruce spoke calmly, but he was actually grinding his teeth to powder.

"Yes, there's another one, about Batman. That book is indeed a bit absurd, but I think the plot where Batman threatens the doctor that if he can't save the child and the Joker, he'll make the whole of Gotham pay with his life should resonate with a large audience in Gotham's specific market."

Kassel's professional skills are exceptional.

Although he didn't know why Bruce had recently set his sights on the less profitable novel market, he felt that Bruce, as a capitalist, must also believe in publishing whatever makes money.

however.

This indicates the core judgment of the market.

However, Cassel did not receive Bruce Wayne's judgment.

All he heard was panting.

immediately.

A deathly silence fell over the other end of the phone.

……

The Hellcat sped along the highway, its wheels crushing a rock on the ground.

Vehicles sped past, sending fragments of stone flying that struck the exterior wall of a church before rolling into the church's entrance.

Even in broad daylight, the dim candlelight remained burning brightly inside the church.