dmims Page 137
Page 137
"It's all your fault for making me look like an evil god." Under the somewhat bewildered gazes of the demon head and the demon book, Ian once again demonstrated his exceptionally good skills at shifting blame.
"Could it be that you are not evil...?"
Just as the demon's head opened its mouth as if to speak but then stopped...
"Ding dong~"
The doorbell rang from downstairs.
Ian didn't bother Jordan and chose to go downstairs and open the door himself.
He was eager to try, hoping it would be a supervillain coming to kidnap the child, but instead he found a man in an expensive suit outside. Such men usually don't reveal their true nature unless they use a demon to bewitch him.
"Who are you looking for?"
Ian slightly regretted not hanging the demon's head on his butt.
"Oh, is anyone home? I thought they were all out." Standing outside the door was a middle-aged man in a sharp suit, his hair neatly combed and a confident smile on his lips.
Richard Cassel.
The man introduced himself, raising an eyebrow with a flourish, "I am a bestselling mystery novelist, a regular on the New York Times bestseller list, and hailed as one of the most charming men of our time."
“If you’re a fashionable boy, you must have seen my work.” Kassel held a bunch of things in his hands, all of which looked high-end but were pretty useless detective gadgets.
“Oh, it’s you, that idiot on the plane…” Ian’s upbringing made him swallow back his words of sudden realization, “So you’re the famous bestselling author!”
He switched to flattering words.
"Yes, it's me. Do you want my autograph?"
Kassel genuinely believed that Ian was one of his readers and fans.
He clearly didn't recognize Ian as the boy who drove the speeding car. Because Ian's Hellcat was covered with a blanket, the writer hadn't yet had a chance to explore Ian's yard out of curiosity.
"No, thank you."
Ian wasn't a fan of detective novels, and even Sherlock Holmes was one of his followers, so how could he possibly lower himself to collect other people's autographs?
That's disrespectful to believers!
wrong.
I think I secretly told myself that I would never say it aloud, but I wasn't careful enough. Luckily, no one could hear my thoughts.
Ian patted his steel chest with relief.
Kassel gave him a strange look, but didn't comment further. He took out a letter from his suit jacket. "I found this place based on some scattered clues."
“Someone wants me to meet a certain mysterious author.” Cassel stared at Ian. “I think the person who stole my new book’s promotional resources is your… father.”
His gaze shifted to the inner room behind Ian.
“I see, you’re the person Mr. Wayne sent to learn from—you must have lost a lot of his money.” Ian suddenly realized that the person who came was a boastful new author.
He also often boasts.
He understood that feeling.
Ian revealed a look that seemed to see through everything.
Kassel touched his nose.
He felt like he was basking in the sun when Ian stared at him.
"Wow, your contact lenses are really pretty... Actually, I think he wants me to tutor an author. Am I wrong? Not your father, but your mother?"
Kassel stared into Ian's eyes for a moment, then gently corrected Ian's incorrect statement. He didn't want to get angry because of a child's misunderstanding.
Kassel is a writer of detective novels.
After ruling out several possibilities, he realized that the person in front of him was the author whom someone wanted him to mentor. A teenager certainly needs a good mentor.
Kassel was narcissistic in his heart.
however.
“That’s just what he made you think. You don’t understand Mr. Wayne’s wisdom.” Ian led Cassel into the house and poured him a cup of leftover tea from the previous night.
He has always been very well-mannered.
“Um… Earth Exploration Publishing is indeed a publishing house under the Wayne Group… Wait, you mean the person who commissioned me to come here is Bruce Wayne?”
"That Bruce Wayne everyone knows? He's a relative of yours!?" Cassel, who had just taken a sip of tea, seemed to only then realize what was happening and his eyes widened in surprise.
Seeing Ian nod.
He felt like he would never be able to get his publicity resources back in this lifetime.
“Actually, they’re not relatives, but my dad owes him some money, and he owes my dad several lives,” Ian corrected Cassel seriously. He was sizing up this writing apprentice Bruce Wayne had brought, wondering if there was a chance to make him a member of his Ian Cult.
Does this person exist in the DC Universe?
Ian wasn't sure.
“Isn’t this even closer than the relationship between relatives…” Kassel’s IQ was probably not low. He figured out the relationships between the people and immediately felt that this family was not simple.
I owe so many people favors.
No wonder they would ask me to teach this family's children to write.
"You really enjoy writing?"
Kassel tentatively asked a question.
“I don’t really like writing, but I’m very good at it… Have something to eat.” Ian enthusiastically prepared lunch for Cassel, enduring his own hunger while ensuring others were well-fed.
That's the vision of Mr. Ian.
"you are very welcome."
Kassel, who had just sat down in the living room, quickly waved his hand.
“No, it’s a matter of etiquette.” Ian’s voice came from the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter of pots and pans as he boiled a large pot of water.
"Okay, thanks. I haven't had lunch yet. Do you need my help?" Kassel thought that perhaps people in the metropolis were just that hospitable.
He didn't want to refuse the child's kindness.
however.
“I’m a great cook, trust me, I’ve read a lot of cookbooks.” Ian chased Cassel out of the kitchen and closed the door. Then he started cooking all the ingredients his mother had stocked in the refrigerator, including the parts he didn’t like, into one pot—all the broccoli and that wretched imported porcupine meat.
If Kassel eats everything, Ian won't have to eat anything himself; Ian's plan is quite shrewd. American home stoves generally have low heat output, so Ian decided to give his kitchenware a taste of something better.
He glanced back.
The boy's eyes blazed with golden light.
As the radiance erupted from within, Ian reduced the power of the rays; for some reason, the color didn't change, only the brightness decreased.
However, Kassel, who was outside the kitchen door, still sensed something was wrong.
"Has something caught fire?"
Kassel saw an eerie golden light shining through the crack in the kitchen door.
He became somewhat uneasy.
The image of his own daughter trying to cook for him began to surface in his mind.
"No, I was making a dish from the anime 'Cooking Master Boy,' so it's normal for it to glow." Ian's calm answer was reasonable, but Cassel became even more uneasy.
His vivid imagination led him to wonder if Ian was practicing alchemy inside.
"Damn it! I should have done a more thorough background check." This is a world where supernatural phenomena truly exist, so it's reasonable for Cassel to suspect he's stumbled into the lair of some evil wizard. After all, he's a writer with a rich enough imagination and has always been very interested in the supernatural.
Actually, I wasn't that hungry.
Kassel wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
"Actually, I'm not a local here. I've heard that the specialties in the Metropolitan area are quite good. I've seen a lot of them on the Food Hunter app."
"This is also a newly launched application from Wayne Group. I'm sure you've heard of it... So, how about we go out to eat? Or we could use the food delivery function on the Food Hunter app."
"Wayne Group is integrating the national food delivery industry, and their delivery speed is really fast." Cassel tried to stop Ian's cooking with a slightly unnatural, even poorly structured statement.
only.
His long speech was met with only Ian's silence.
"..."
The golden light in the kitchen suddenly trembled violently twice.
No one spoke.
"Um, are you still there?"
Kassel knocked on the door cautiously.
He suspected the boy had poisoned himself in the kitchen.
"Yes, I've always been here~"
Ian's voice was calm, but in the kitchen just a door away, his expression gradually became distorted, and he stiffened as if struck by lightning.
This software looks familiar.
The cunning Batman!
Despicable Bruce!
That man is indeed a qualified capitalist!
They hang streetlights for more than ten days at a time!
"Is this the difference between a super-capitalist and an ordinary capitalist like me?" Ian realized. He felt himself turning to the dark side, and tonight he was going to post Batman on gay dating websites.
Hang a thousand!
He was going to use the new Tony Stark's high-tech box to lock Batman's information onto global dating websites! Ian's deep resentment seemed to permeate the entire kitchen.
Kassel, standing outside the door, was completely unaware of this.
"Seriously, why not give the new food delivery service a try?"
He is still trying to persuade Ian.