vncnus Page 356
Page 356
"..."
Thomas Wayne sensed Ian's emotions.
He fell silent again.
"This city is so beautiful!"
Ian had learned to change the subject himself. He walked to the railing, looked down, and saw Jobs still peddling the transparent iPhone 22 with its many, many screens.
That phone can be opened like a fan.
22 folds.
They look great, and Ian wanted to take one with him when he left.
"It took me many years of hard work to build it, and through that I gained power comparable to many demon lords." Thomas Wayne also liked his new Gotham.
A hell where people can live and work in peace and contentment.
This is what Thomas Wayne once wanted to make Gotham into.
During his tenure, he provided substantial assistance to many of Gotham's poor, not just for show, but genuinely helped the people without needing to ask why they were so poor.
The poverty of the people is at most 30% related to the capitalist king; the remaining 70% is largely related to Gotham's special status in the DC Universe.
At least Thomas Wayne helped the poor not just to get tax breaks, and Bruce Wayne inherited many of his policies to help the poor. However, neither father nor son could eradicate the deep-seated corruption within the city. The DC universe needs a chaotic Gotham, an absolute state that no one can influence.
Many people only know Bruce Wayne, thus overlooking Thomas Wayne's abilities. He was also a very capable and exceptionally intelligent individual. If we were to consider who had the ability and the inclination to build such a magnificent and harmonious city in Hell, then Thomas Wayne, as "King," would definitely be a reasonable candidate.
Ian gradually digested this information.
“It seems you’re similar to Crowley; both of you started as mortals and became demons.” Ian could also sense that this city was the source of Thomas’s power.
"A demon? I have something I want to talk to you about, it's about my reluctance to become the King of Hell... Please have a seat here." After giving Ian a deep look, Thomas led him to the luxurious office behind the tower. He gestured to the leather sofa opposite him, his tone indeed as gentle as if he were entertaining an old friend.
Ian made sure he remembered this, especially the feeling of being an "old friend," and needed to highlight it directly. This would give him the confidence to speak the truth when communicating with Bruce Wayne in the future.
"Your sofas here even have heated seats?" Ian asked curiously, as if he were visiting a grand garden. He plopped down on the sofa and felt a comfort unlike any other sofa he had ever seen.
"Yes, with a sofa like this, you only need to enclose a little devil inside, and it will even give you a massage inside the sofa." Thomas Wayne didn't know if he was joking or not.
He turned and walked toward the wine cabinet, which was even more extravagant than the one in Obadiah's office in Marvel. At that moment, Ian could truly feel something massaging him from under the sofa.
"not bad."
Ian's gaze fell on the liquor cabinet, which contained liquors that could only be found in the human world. It was clearly smuggled goods. He wondered if Commissioner Crowley had played a key role in this.
"What would you like to drink?" Thomas poured himself a drink. The wine cabinet contained Romanée-Conti, Tang San's favorite wine, but most of it was still a hellish wine as red as blood.
"Wine, fine wine."
Ian answered without hesitation.
Thomas Wayne glanced back at him.
"Children shouldn't drink alcohol." Thomas Wayne hadn't expected that after spending so long in Hell, he still retained some humanity and adhered to the rules that human elders should follow.
This made Ian feel a little uncomfortable.
"Are you telling a hellish joke? I'm already in hell, so of course I have to be a bad boy who secretly drinks, otherwise people will think I'm not worthy of wandering around in hell."
Ian knew his mother couldn't catch up to him in Hell to smell if he had alcohol in his mouth, and his father's nose hadn't yet evolved to the point where he could smell him drinking across dimensions.
This was a rare opportunity to taste the forbidden, so Ian didn't want to miss it.
“You actually think you’re just a bad boy.” Thomas paused for a moment, then finally raised his hand slightly to signal, and the Duke of Hell immediately brought over a glass of peach wine.
He was like the new butler that old Wayne had found. With just a glance from old Wayne, the Duke of Hell knew what to do. And the wine that the Duke of Hell gave Ian was very low in alcohol content.
Ian took the glass, pulled a straw from his all-purpose pocket, wiped it on his clothes with a "germaphobe" attitude, and then put the straw into the glass.
"Coo coo coo~"
Ian took a gentle sip through the straw, his cheeks puffing out and then falling back down, as if he were sipping fruit wine like he was drinking juice. The pink liquid swirled slightly in the crystal glass.
Continuously decreasing.
It exuded a sweet, cloying aroma. Ian's cheeks puffed out rhythmically, like a hamster stealing juice, as he visibly emptied the entire glass.
"Continued Cup!"
Ian slammed the empty glass down on the table with a flourish. While Sun Wukong stole peaches in the sky, Ian stole peach wine in hell; Ian felt he was, in a way, a great sage himself.
"Very greedy."
Thomas raised an eyebrow, gesturing for the Duke of Hell to pour more wine. However, Ian this time snatched the bottle, inserted the straw, and began gulping it down again.
"Forehead……"
The Duke of Hell was of good character, so he didn't sigh helplessly until he left the office, his voice so soft that it went unnoticed by Ian's super hearing.
He continued to wait outside, ready to respond to old Wayne at any time.
"It tastes good." Ian quite liked the taste of the wine; who doesn't love peaches? From peaches that cost one yuan each to peaches that cost ten thousand yuan a night.
Everyone loves it.
The atmosphere in the office was harmonious. In the quiet tower, the only sounds were Ian slurping his wine and Thomas gently swirling his wine glass.
“I’m very interested in the Atonement you’ve been proclaiming everywhere,” Thomas finally spoke, his voice deep and magnetic. He clearly had his own informants in the upper levels of Hell.
"really?"
Ian was sucking on a straw.
He gave a vague reply.
“I’m willing to trade everything I’ve built in Hell for your indulgences.” Thomas looked directly at Ian, his eyes deep, his tone more sincere than ever before.
He didn't want to be the king of hell.
“This place is too far from the human world, so I definitely won’t come here often. What I really want is the Wayne family’s business in the human world, which is a tiny bit of the Wayne Group’s shares.”
“I’ve never been greedy since I was a child, so I really only need a tiny bit, to sit back and collect the money, and then use that money to support my business so that it can develop faster and better.”
Ian was telling the truth.
The dirty and hard work should still be done by the big capitalists.
He just needs to be a quiet, innocent figure who quietly distributes the money.
Having grown up several days earlier, Ian had long since stopped coveting the Wayne family's wealth; his only focus was on building his own Ian Greatest Technology Corporation.
This is America, this is Earth, this is the solar system, this is the future of the entire DC universe!
“I’m sorry, I can’t make any decisions for Bruce. He is now the owner of Wayne Enterprises.” Thomas pondered for a moment, then slowly shook his head in refusal.
However, Ian did not understand this rejection.
"I see."
Ian nodded, his eyes gleaming slyly. Unlike most highly intelligent people, Ian could always pick up on the unspoken meaning behind others' words, even anticipating their intended message before they could even react. Sure enough, before Thomas could even grasp the nature of his attitude, Ian had already pulled out—a whip and candles—from his extra dimension.
"??????"
Thomas Wayne looked more bewildered than ever before.
"what are you up to?"
He swallowed.
He wore a confused expression, trying to appear calm.
"Let's test Young Master Wayne's filial piety. Let's create a fake news story with the headline 'Shocking! Wayne Corporation Founder Imprisoned and Exploited by the Queen of Hell!'"
Ian eagerly brandished the whip. With his intelligence enhanced, his thought process became active again, so this idea was quickly replaced by another.
"No! Fake news would require writing other sections of the Hell newspaper, and I don't have time to learn about daily life in Hell, so let's just make a video instead!"
"Western style, island style, Korean style...anything is fine!" Ian became more and more excited as he spoke. It was easy to see from the short videos he posted online that he had the ambition to become a director in all three fields.
"??????!!!!" Thomas Wayne, upon hearing Ian's choice of words, fell into a long silence.
He finally realized a problem—the role that allowed his son to prepare more than 80,000 response documents in a short period of time did indeed have a unique and dangerous aspect.
"Let's make a film! Trust me! I've filmed Justice League: Assemble and The Death of Superman before, so I have a lot of filming experience."
The boy enthusiastically reiterated his proposal to Thomas, the King of Hell, demonstrating his exceptional wisdom. He firmly believed that Bruce Wayne must be a filial son.
Please allow me to refuse!
Thomas Wayne's expression changed repeatedly, but in the end, his reason prevailed over his desire to leave hell, and he still maintained his aristocratic understanding when he spoke.
This response was very decisive.
however.
……
Cold, shaking.
Thomas Wayne got up from the floor, his head throbbing. His suit was covered in dust, his tie was loosely hanging around his neck, and his shoes were stained with some kind of sticky black liquid.
Before I was fully conscious, my body was already enveloped by some invisible chill.
“Where am I? I remember being murdered.” Thomas Wayne rubbed his eyes. Before him lay a gray wasteland, the sky hanging low like a curtain that never cleared. The air was thick with the stench of sulfur and decay, and in the distance came the wails of souls and the dragging of chains.
He looked down at himself.
His suit was still impeccably tailored, but the fabric had become thin and light, like some kind of ghostly gauze. The hands of the former king of Gotham began to tremble slightly.
Not because of fear.
Rather, it's because they lost the control over their lives that came with power.
I felt a sense of powerlessness I had never experienced before.
"You... are the best in terms of both quality and ass among this batch of souls coming to hell." A hoarse voice came from the darkness, accompanied by a strange laugh that did not belong to humans.
"Who is there?"
Thomas looked around warily.
In the corner, on a chair that no one knew why had suddenly appeared in the wilderness, he saw a hunched-over hellish imp polishing a Desert Eagle pistol. Its skin was like charred tree bark, its eyes were like two burning embers, and its mouth stretched to its ears, revealing jagged, sharp teeth.
"Where is this place?"
Thomas asked in a low voice, his voice steady, but his knuckles were already slightly white.