svetikya Page 284
Page 284
"Crackling~ Crackling~"
The typing on the half-used phone continued.
See this scene.
Crowley did not stop him.
He leaned forward slightly, looking a little uneasy. "You didn't mention who I was or where I was when you texted me, did you?"
Regarding Ian's text message.
Crowley is hard to peek at.
He only saw a few scattered things.
Ian continued fiddling with his phone without looking up: "No."
"call--"
Crowley relaxed and leaned back on the sofa.
The genuine leather made a farting sound.
"That's good. I don't want to be targeted by Batman; that guy's reputation in Hell is much greater than Superman's." He took out a crumpled handkerchief and wiped his sweat a little more.
It's unclear why this is the physical body he uses.
Or perhaps she simply enjoys wiping away sweat.
"What do you mean? Superman is inferior to Batman?"
Ian looked up in displeasure.
His golden eyes held a deep melancholy.
“I mean, Superman will definitely go to Heaven, so what connection could he possibly have with Hell? But Batman is a different story.” Klaue made a downward gesture with an exaggerated movement.
"Everyone's betting on how many years it will take Batman to become the Lord of Hell after he goes there." His words were packed with information and also highlighted the demons' lack of entertainment.
“I see. That makes sense. According to relativity, if Dad goes to Heaven, Batman must go to Hell.” Ian instantly understood what the other person meant.
He thought that Crowley might actually be right.
It wasn't that he thought his Uncle Bruce was a bad person.
The main reason is that, compared to Crowley, Ian also knows some information from higher dimensions—in this world, going to heaven or hell is not just about merit.
The destination of Heaven and Hell.
Ultimately, it depends on your own self-assessment.
Just as God grants angels self-affirmation, God also grants humanity the right to choose. Therefore, it's understandable that Batman, who always knew he was the Dark Knight, would find it very difficult to go to Heaven.
He knew he was using evil to fight evil.
Of course, Heaven might open a back door for Batman, preventing him from wreaking havoc in Hell, but that's only if Heaven can remain pure.
“If the angels are corrupted, Heaven will surely be affected too, right?” Ian looked at Crowley, trying to get some more information from the Demon King.
In this regard.
Crowley was happy to respond.
“No one can influence Heaven except God himself.” He didn’t even mention Lucifer, and his resolute posture made Ian take a few more glances at him.
Ian certainly didn't agree with this response.
However, he did not refute it.
That's actually normal. After all, Crowley is just an acquired demon, and there's a slight difference between him and an innate demon. His understanding might not be as good as Ian's on some levels.
“No matter what, this is definitely a big deal.” Ian wanted to pray to Miss Death, but just then, a shrill ring broke the atmosphere in the living room.
It's Crowley's phone.
The ringtone was surprisingly Wayne Enterprises' classic telephone ringtone.
The kind with copyright.
This must be another Wayne Enterprises technology product. He watched as Crowley frantically pulled a custom-made phone, studded with diamonds and gold trim, from the rumpled inside pocket of his suit.
The word "Boss" was clearly displayed on the screen. Ian was somewhat surprised, not by the caller, but by his inability to understand Crowley's situation.
On the one hand, they were wary of Batman.
They're using Wayne Technologies products.
They're all Wayne Technologies.
Does this demon really think he doesn't have enough surveillance cameras on him?
“My boss called, I need to go report to him.” Crowley straightened his suit and gave Ian an apologetic look.
"Lucifer?"
Ian asked curiously.
Crowley smiled and nodded, exuding affability, as he walked out of the living room. Ian watched his retreating figure, then glanced at the other technological products in the room.
Wayne Technology's intelligent temperature control system and Wayne Security's monitoring probes.
Ok.
The audio equipment is also from the Wayne Group.
"As expected, Wayne fans are die-hard."
Ian sighed sincerely, unsure whether this was Crowley's pre-emptive effort to build a relationship with Bruce Wayne, the Lord of Hell, or a deliberate attempt to expose himself to Batman's surveillance.
"Not a provocation, but to avoid trouble?" Ian felt that the demon who could give him his manor must have such wisdom. As he pondered this, he approached the crystal cage again.
The bone piano remained silent, mocking Ian for being left alone there.
An eerie stillness filled the air.
The boy's fingertips tapped lightly on the semi-liquid barrier, producing a soft "thump, thump" sound, like some kind of disturbance, constantly echoing in the dim room.
The angel Manny in the cage trembled slightly.
The peristalsis under the skin became increasingly intense.
It felt as if countless tiny insects were crawling through his veins. He remained unconscious, but his body was trembling violently, and Ian didn't know why.
Even if he stops tapping.
The other person's trembling did not stop.
What kind of dream was that?
Ian stared at the angel Manny's hands, which were moving up and down.
Don't dare to think too much.
While he was observing the Plague Angel's condition, on the other side, in the smallest of the fifteen toilets in the manor, in a room of a full 100 square meters, Crowley was bowing and scraping to his phone.
“Yes, Hell is functioning well, riots have decreased by 37%, it's very, very stable.” His eyes suddenly lit up. “Really? Boss! Thank you so much!”
Crowley spoke with great excitement.
The sound of dancing came from the other end of the phone.
You deserve to be stronger.
Crowley's fat body suddenly trembled.
An invisible force surged from the phone's receiver, flowing into his body through his ear canal. As Lucifer's words became law, Crowley's aura and power increased wildly.
The demon agent's suit billowed without wind, and his tie writhed as if alive. He closed his eyes, feeling the new power surging within him—a power bestowed upon him by Lucifer himself.
"awesome."
When Crowley opened his eyes again.
Lucifer had already hung up the phone.
He saw a short-haired woman standing behind him in the mirror.
Meg Mosley.
Crowley's smile remained unchanged as he stared at the voice in the mirror and said in a light tone, "I remember you've already completed the commission."
This female demon is the one who brought Ian here.
Who is that boy?
The female demon's red lips were pressed into a straight line.
She still couldn't forget the terrifying sense of oppression Ian had instilled in her.
“I don’t know.” Crowley turned on the gold-plated faucet, and the water flowed over his body, which had just gained power. His hands were still trembling slightly from excitement.
What has been improved is his essence.
It's not this body.
Meg slammed her hand on the mirror, cracks spreading from her palm: "You lied! You gave him the manor!"
The sound of water stopped abruptly.
Crowley slowly pulled out a towel embroidered with the emblem of hell.
"It seems I have a spy among my men."
His hand-wiping motion was as elegant as if he were polishing an antique.
“As expected, my decision was correct; they all have to be killed.” Crowley wasn’t angry because the manor was no longer his, and he knew very well who the female demon needed to compensate for her actions.
A superhero with psoriasis-level skin conditions.
This is the downside of not using internet search.
"I have the right to know the answer!"
Meg's scream caused a crack in the ceramic sink.
"I really do not know."
Crowley sighed.