Nightmare world.
The eternal cold wind whipped snowflakes against Ian's face. He looked down in
confusion at the demon head dangling from his waist, its murky eyes and face filled with
fear and dread.
"What dimensional demon god?"
As Ian pondered this, he frowned slightly.
"You...you..." The demon's head was still immersed in disbelief and terror. He couldn't
understand how Superman's son could be a dimensional demon god.
This isn't magic at all!
Although the Minotaur itself didn't understand science very well, it believed that this
situation couldn't possibly be scientifically accurate either! Kryptonians are a race of
cosmic gods, not dimensional demons!
"You possess a complete universe!"
He looked around in surprise and uncertainty.
The Minotaur was observing and sensing this unfamiliar world.
The more information you acquire...
It became increasingly terrified.
Although the enormous figure in the sky was lifeless, even its remains filled the demon
that had crawled out of hell with a suffocating terror. Just imagine, such a being was hung
in the sky as an ornament; how could a small demon not tremble with fear?
"I am not a dimensional demon, nor do I possess a complete universe. It is a cosmic tumor
that has 'grown' in my body. It is an illness, but there is currently no cure."
"Thank God, I never intended to get treatment anyway."
Ian still remembered his conversation with Miss Death, and he was more willing to
believe what the big shot said. A little devil who could even be dealt with by him was no
match for Miss Death in terms of vision or status.
"A universe grows inside your body! You still say you're not a dimensional demon!"
The minotaur demon seemed to only hear what it wanted to hear; its sharp, explosive roar
was particularly jarring in this silent world.
"I possess inherited knowledge! I know this is your dimension! You are a dimensional
demon disguised as a human child, and I don't know how you used to implant false
memories into Superman!"
"How could Heaven allow you to do this! Those damned angels would never tolerate
your desecration of holy souls!" Its eyes were filled with horror.
His tone was filled with disbelief. At this moment, the minotaur felt he was beginning
to understand everything: why couldn't his hellfire harm the boy?
Why did a single spit from the other party take half my life? And what about that
hammer attack that pounded my soul with excruciating pain—all my doubts now have a
reasonable yet terrifying answer.
This boy was actually a dimensional demon god with a twisted sense of humor,
pretending to be weak! He was just a little devil; how could he possibly fight against such a
terrifying being?
They're already on the same level as their master!
"Have I desecrated a sacred soul?"
Ian pondered for a moment. He felt that the demon was cursing him. This was
something that even an uncle or aunt could tolerate, but he couldn't tolerate it. So he
raised his hand and directly gave the demon two large pen bags.
"Fine! Trying to sow discord within my family again!"
Ian glared angrily at the demon, "You're the dimensional demon! Your whole family
are dimensional demons! Am I not holy? The angels' judgment is indeed far superior to
yours, demons!"
"The angels must know that I'm as holy as my father, and the priests love me when I
go to church—and even General MacArthur once said that Ian is a good lad!"
sometimes.
Telling a few small lies is harmless.
but.
"Um⋯ Douglas MacArthur never said that⋯ I remember⋯ his soul was given to me to
eat⋯" The Minotaur Demon actually wanted to say that it also hoped its whole family
would be dimensional demons, but it didn't have the guts. In the end, it could only
weakly grab the chicken foot in Ian's words.
"what!?"
Ian stared, dumbfounded.
He had used the pirated General's quotes dozens of times, but he never expected to
encounter such a reasonable denial, which made him feel as humiliated and angry as if his
pants had been pulled down. "I don't believe it! You're lying! Unless you spit out the
General!" It was only because Ian hadn't brought his hammer that he was willing to give
the devil a good whack on the head.
Well, knocking on the demon's head is definitely addictive. And compared to knocking
on a wooden fish, Ian feels that knocking on the demon's head will definitely increase his
real merit.
"I misremembered! I misremembered!" Seeing the dangerous glint in Ian's eyes, the
Minotaur Demon shuddered, its intelligence returning to its peak, and chose to shut up.
At this moment, the fear of this hellish creature that crawled out of hell reached an
unprecedented level. No demon dared to provoke a dimensional demon god with a
complete universe dimension.
It knew that if the "dimensional demon" in front of it insisted on playing the role of a
human, it had better cooperate with the other party's performance; otherwise, death
would probably become a luxury for it.
"That's more like it. How could I possibly misremember the General's words? Even
if you spit them out, it would only mean the General himself misremembered." Ian looked
up with immense satisfaction at the Galactus, which was peeking out from behind a dark
cloud. The tilting Galactus seemed to have moved even closer to the ground.
"Why is it collapsing so slowly! I'm already thinking of finding a plane to fly up there!
Why do I have to be at level five to learn to fly? Is it because I wasn't born with wings on my
back?"
"My system buddy, in America, you could easily be convicted of racial discrimination!
I'm guaranteed to win in court!" Ian sighed heavily.
After further manipulating his own system, he hung the demon's head on his waist and
got up to go to that mysterious base again to find out more.
Following the direction of memory.
Ian started running.
The demon head at his waist bounced up and down as he ran.
But the demon dared not utter a single complaint. The buildings on both sides of the
street were covered with thick ice and snow, and he kept peering into this unfamiliar world
with his murky eyes.
"What's the noise?"
Ian suddenly stopped in his tracks.
In the distance, the sounds of roaring and fierce fighting could be faintly heard.
The sounds of gunfire were also interspersed among them.
"It's raining! I have to go get soaked in this rain!" Ian immediately became excited, as if
he had been injected with chicken blood, changed direction and ran towards the direction
from which the sound came.
"It's been snowing all along, isn't it? Snow is just another form of rain. Look, it's raining
from my mouth too." The demon head took on the role of a philosopher and started
playing with abstract concepts.
The creature hanging from Ian's waist was foaming at the mouth. Clearly, it was dizzy
from the shock. The demon that had arrived in this world found itself seemingly stripped of
its extraordinary status.
It's just an immortal head.
"What's the point of dying or living? Perhaps this is the fate of demons."
It sighed, mournfully, its voice sorrowful.
"Shut up! Don't disturb my ability to pinpoint sounds. My favorite hail of bullets is
nearby!" Ian raised his hand again and handed several large pen pockets to the demon
head at his waist.
"Stop hitting me! It really hurts!"
The demon's eyes, which had been immersed in melancholic philosophy, suddenly
cleared a bit. Ian, on the other hand, took the opportunity to find the source of the
commotion, traversing a small alley to a frozen fountain square.
blood.
It's still blood.
Everywhere was covered in warm, scarlet blood.
The incredibly intense fighting sounds came from here