More than just stabbing himself twice.
Even two stabs straight through the heart would probably have been no problem.
What was this?
A whole pile of Berserker experience, that's what.
Ian was already regretting it, regretting that he had not gotten on better terms with Tessa. Otherwise, he definitely would have shamelessly begged the reaper for a long-term curse.
"Even if we're not that close, I can still be shameless."
The glass doors of Metropolis General Hospital reflected Ian's face back at him like an iron wall. He stared at his blurred reflection, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the pendant on his chest.
"Right, I've also got the attention of the reapers' boss... there's still a chance, there's still a chance. The DC Universe deserves its own Deadpool. If Marvel has one, then DC should have one too!"
Ian instantly found the moral high ground for himself. He also could not help being amazed by a reaper's authority. If he remembered right, in Supernatural, reapers could even bring people back to life.
Honestly,
that show was so old that even with his excellent memory, he could no longer remember all the details clearly. Just as Ian was thinking he should find a way to build himself a memory palace when he got home,
"Make way!"
A sharp shout came from behind him. Ian stepped aside, and a gurney shot past, brushing his shoulder, its wheels screeching harshly against the tile floor.
The man on the gurney looked ashen, half a steel bar sticking out of his chest. Blood dripped along the path in a broken red trail.
No matter what world it was, the working class still had it hard and dangerous.
"All capitalists should be hung from streetlights. Me excluded, of course. I'm definitely going to be a conscientious capitalist in the future."
Ian knew that not even a few crocodile tears from him could help a dying man like that.
The only thing he could do was stay out of the medical staff's way.
Following the signs, Ian found the inpatient tower. He first made a stop at the restroom. More than ten minutes later, he came back out looking refreshed and in high spirits, casually washing off a bright red blade.
Fortunately, no one saw.
When Ian finally entered the inpatient tower, a young nurse at the station was organizing medical charts. Her chestnut ponytail swayed gently with each movement.
Ian adjusted his breathing and put on a perfectly measured smile.
"Hello, I'm a student from Brewster Public High. I'm writing a report for school about the victims of Starlight Airlines Flight 143."
"It's not just society paying attention to this. We students care about the victims too. Could you tell me which ward the survivors were assigned to?"
Ian remained extremely polite, and even deliberately softened his voice while sprinkling in a little lie. Of course, he was not really a high school student, but that did not stop him from borrowing the identity.
"You want to interview the patients?"
Nurse Kate had originally looked up with a frown, but the moment she saw the unusually handsome boy standing across from her, her fairly pleasant face switched expressions as fast as stage opera.
"The Starlight Airlines patients? Students these days are so caring."
She might have wanted to refuse at first, but her attitude now was genuinely excellent.
Looks are justice really were gaining more and more weight.
"Yes, that's right. I'm a campus reporter."
Ian pulled out the enchanted ID from his wallet and gave it a little wave in front of her.
Unfortunately, the nurse had only been staring at his face.
The tips of her ears were starting to turn red.
...
Ian felt a little unwilling. Since he had a magical tool, he absolutely had to use it. So he held the card right in front of the nurse's eyes, and only then did the power of the card finally take effect.
Honestly, card or no card, Ian probably would not have run into any obstacle anyway.
"Wow, you're actually the chief campus reporter. That's so impressive."
Sure enough, women knew how to provide emotional value too. She even thoughtfully stood up and came out from behind the nurse's station to point him in the right direction herself.
"They're in Ward B. Rooms 32 through 40 are all from that group."
Nurse Kate leaned in very close. Ian could practically feel her aggressively inhaling the scent of his body wash.
"I can take you there, if you want."
Her enthusiasm kept escalating.
...
Ian politely but firmly refused. Today really had turned into his first encounter with an actual female creep. Sure enough, no matter what country it was, nurses really did belong to one of the boldest groups of women.
"Thank you so much. You're such a kind angel."
Even while retreating, Ian kept up his politeness.
Maybe the nurse would stay happy all day because of it.
The smell of disinfectant in Ward B was even stronger, mixed with the scent of medicine in the air. After checking around a bit, Ian stepped into one of the rooms housing a survivor from the crash.
"Hello, I'm..."
Ian started speaking while pulling out the enchanted ID again.
However,
"A reporter? No, wait, a kid?"
The man in the bed nearest the door had one leg in a cast hanging in midair. He looked Ian up and down before asking in a hoarse voice,
"Which patient's family are you here with?"
He had obviously misunderstood.
"No, no, no. I'm a campus reporter. The teachers and students at school are all really concerned about this plane crash, so I'm here on their behalf to learn how everyone's doing."
Ian smoothly entered roleplaying mode. As the child of two reporters, he had an innate advantage when pretending to be one. He really did give off some campus-journalist vibes.
No one suspected him.
Even so, just like some people liked showing off their iPhones and others liked flaunting luxury cars and watches, Ian still showed every survivor he questioned the magical card he had "picked up."
He gathered quite a bit of information, though most of it turned out to be useless.
For example, the flight attendant in Bed 20 said that when Superman caught her, his arms had felt as reliable as steel. Ian very much agreed, since he had known those solid arms since childhood.
The businessman in Bed 19 insisted that the plane had been shot down by green laser fire, and complained that the official investigators refused to believe him. His statement did at least give Ian something useful.
The old woman in Bed 17, meanwhile, mysteriously claimed that Superman had smelled rotten. Since she was Romani, Ian could not help wasting a few extra minutes on her.
Unfortunately,
the only responses he got were things like "You're carrying misfortune," "Enormous misfortune," and "I can give you a discount."
Afraid that the next thing out of her mouth would be that red fur was about to start growing all over him, Ian hurriedly ended the conversation. He got no other useful information from the old woman.
It was only then that the man with the leg in the cast, who had been watching Ian question one patient after another and take notes, finally spoke up in his hoarse voice.
"Superman smelled like chemical waste from a sewage treatment plant. I worked at one for twenty years. There's no way I'd mistake that stink."
That was easily the most useful piece of information Ian had gotten all morning.
At the vending machine by the corner of the corridor, Ian bought a city map and started narrowing down how many treatment plants there were around Metropolis.
And then,
"Patient in Room 43 is crashing!"
Medical staff ran past with a defibrillator cart.
Ian looked up.
Inside the room, doctors were already working on the patient. Beside the bed stood a woman no one else could see, calmly watching over him.
"Tessa!"
Even though the woman had switched appearances, well, changed her outfit again, Ian's eyes were sharp enough that he recognized her at a glance. It was Tessa, the same reaper who had brought him here.
He waved at her.
The smiling boy wanted to try repairing their relationship a little.
However,
"Hm? A human? You can see me?"
The female reaper looked up as soon as she sensed his gaze, visibly startled. Her expression was puzzled. The way she looked at Ian carried nothing but shock and total confusion.
It was as though she did not recognize him at all.
(End of Chapter)
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