This was Ian's dream.
Perhaps it was also the universe Miss Death referred to as "shattered and extinguished." Regardless of why his experience differed from that of the insane chef, Ian knew he was most likely an object "parasitized" by the Marvel Universe.
It wasn't entirely bad luck.
After all, he had eaten enough pre-packaged meals in his previous life.
Getting infected with a tiny bit of poison in this life was only fair.
"It really doesn't matter. It parasitizes me, but I also gain strength from it. This dream and I are mutually beneficial." Ian wasn't at all worried that he would turn into a lunatic like the chef in the sewage plant. After all, he heard no whispers in his ear, nor was he influenced or tempted by the obsession of an entire universe.
In this utterly silent dream world.
Ian couldn't even find someone he could talk to.
He was so lonely that he actually wished some unnameable whisper would communicate with him. Honestly, as a normal person, who wouldn't want an invisible friend?
It would be so cool.
"Too bad I don't have that luck. My psychological issues must be related to how bored I get here every night. If an unspeakable entity could play poker with me every night, I definitely wouldn't need to see the Doctor my dad found for me." Ian stared up at Galactus in the clouds for a long time.
Galactus's fall was very slow.
It completely defied the laws of physics.
His neck was starting to ache, and he still hadn't seen the entity actually crash into Earth.
"Wasting my emotions!" Ian wasn't in a hurry. He recalled the clear and urgent shout he had heard just before returning the last time he entered this world. There might still be living people in this world... Well, according to Miss Death, they should probably be called echoes from the past of this universe?
"Miss Death, praise you, are you still there?" Ian tried to pray to the goddess whose thigh he had managed to cling to through his own efforts, but he didn't feel any connection between himself and the goddess. This prayer didn't even dial the wrong "phone" number to connect to the "Death" goddess on the Marvel side.
Perhaps Marvel's primary bitch had also perished.
Ian regretted this greatly.
He had still hoped to see the two Goddesses of Death tugging at each other's "hair" one day.
"No chance, no chance... But there must be an entity here that can communicate, whether it's still human or not." Ian decided to try his luck again at the location where the bodies of the Hulk and Homelander had been.
"An echo from the past doesn't stop me from asking what happened in this universe—and incidentally inviting him to play a few rounds of Gwent with me every night."
"I'll listen to the echo's delusion to pass the time, and the echo will patiently play cards with me. I win twice again." Ian recognized the direction and began sprinting toward the area he had visited twice before.
His speed was very fast.
Far beyond that of a normal person.
However, due to the slippery ground, when he attempted to jump over a car blocking the road, he still slipped and landed on his butt. But this didn't affect his forward speed.
"This is much faster than running!"
Ian was a person who knew how to adapt to circumstances. He used his hands as oars and his butt as a boat, playing a game of ice skating. He could even twist his butt to drift when turning.
Since the city was deserted.
He didn't have to worry about public embarrassment no matter what he did.
In fact, Ian thought this was quite fun. Once his second and eldest brothers developed non-abrasive steel butts, he planned to invite his family to race down a snowy mountain.
Using both hands and feet.
Ian quickly slid himself onto the familiar street.
However.
"Where did my big green Hulk go? And where is my Homelander, whose head was sliced off by a Moon Slice?" Ian looked at the empty street with confusion.
The crater smashed by the Hulk was still there, but the body was gone. Even the bloodstains seemed to have been completely cleaned up—perhaps the body was taken away by the voice he heard before returning last time?
"Could it be... that the apocalypse survivors carved it up and ate it?" Ian had watched some apocalypse movies before. Just as he was imagining a group of apocalypse survivors having a BBQ around the Hulk's corpse.
"Raise your hands, state your identity and origin!"
Suddenly.
A clear female voice came from behind.
Carrying a hint of caution.
Ian quickly scrambled up from the ground, brushed the dirt off his butt, and turned around to look behind him. There, a tall girl stood not far away.
The girl had an attractive figure.
Black leather pants outlined the long lines of her legs. She wore a tight tactical vest on her upper body and held a cool-looking firearm pointed steadily at the boy not far away.
This excited the boy greatly.
His eyes lit up when he saw the gun in her hand.
This was a great opportunity to grind [Student] profession experience!
"Look! My hands are in my pockets! Can you be more professional? Don't you understand the American tradition! You should be emptying your magazine into me right now!"
Ian's gaze reflected the girl's figure.
The girl had a criminally curvy physique.
The kind that weighed at least a few pounds. Ian actually appreciated a figure like that, but he wished that weight carried a fully loaded magazine.
"??????"
The girl was clearly stunned by Ian's words. She thought Ian was provoking her. Snapping back, she frowned and sternly warned Ian.
"I'm not joking with you."
Saying that.
The girl slightly adjusted the muzzle of her gun, aimed at the ground next to Ian, and pulled the trigger, intending to give Ian a warning shot. However, the situation that unfolded was entirely unexpected.
*Whoosh*
A red light flashed past.
She had only aimed for the empty space beside Ian.
Yet, Ian actually threw himself toward the red light, thrusting his hands forward in the air. The guy was attempting to catch the "bullet" that was never going to hit him!
The girl was greatly shocked by this.
[You attempted to learn how to catch a bullet with your bare hands. Although the practical learning was declared a failure, you grasped some skills in courting death. [Student] Profession Experience +5]
Ian's speed was fast.
But he was unable to achieve his first success.
He caught nothing.
Ian felt very awkward.
He squeezed his hand, which had failed to catch the bullet.
"Uh, I'm just a little rusty. I used to be very good at catching bullets with my bare hands." Ian loved to tell little lies. He felt that the glittering forehead of Galactus in the sky had affected his performance.
Otherwise.
How could someone with eight times the physical fitness of a normal person fail to catch a bullet?
That was unscientific!
"Please wait for me, thank you." Ian made a pause gesture to the confused girl. After speaking, he turned and rushed toward a frozen sedan by the roadside.
Pure violence.
Was the simplest way to open a car door.
"Clang!"
"Not this one..."
"Crack!"
"Not this one either..."
Finally.
After searching several abandoned cars, Ian found what he wanted—a pair of sunglasses.
"One more chance?"
Ian adjusted his state, attempting to synchronize with the protagonist of The Matrix.
"..."
The girl who watched Ian's series of actions looked odd.
"This is a laser gun... it doesn't shoot bullets." She spoke softly, making Ian realize why he hadn't caught the "bullet" and why the experience gained was significantly more than before.
It turned out the difficulty had been increased.
Now that was scientific.
Of course.
The enlightened Ian was still persistent.
"I don't believe it, unless you shoot me again, so I can't talk tough anymore." Ian was envious of the full laser load in her magazine. He decided to use the classic strategy of feigning surrender to capture.
However.
His provocation did not succeed.
The girl looked at him.
Rolled her eyes.
Then.
She pulled out a walkie-talkie.
"Betty, it's Gwen... I've caught the person who can teleport, but his thinking seems a bit abnormal. I need a doctor to assist me with an assessment."
"To see if he's gone crazy like the other superheroes."
The girl was calling for backup.
Ian was greatly surprised by the name she used to refer to herself.
However.
He was more concerned about the girl's misunderstanding of him.
"I'm not crazy, and I don't need to change my psychiatrist." Ian knew his psychiatrist was a genuine lunatic, but he still felt he shouldn't be disdainful of Doctor Hannibal.
After all.
Doctor Hannibal's medicine was truly potent.
***
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