Chapter Forty-One: Yes, They Have a Child

Elijah did not suddenly decide to support Galahad in his unhinged endeavors; he simply felt that, no matter what, filming an R-18 television series was still a significant step up from arms trafficking...?

People were indeed creatures who appreciated compromise.

However, if Galahad managed to drive himself completely bankrupt through his TV production, his old man was certainly not kind-hearted enough to offer soothing comforts and financial bailouts. Instead, he would likely assume that heaven was watching people's actions, and the universe had finally decided that a minor really ought to sit down and focus on his studies.

Galahad himself had taken the possibility of failure into account. He genuinely possessed zero talent for creative writing—he was the kind of hopeless case who could sit in front of a blank page for ten days without squeezing out five hundred words. Ophelia possessed a high level of literary cultivation, yet she was unfamiliar with modern trending topics. Consequently, the only person in this household who seemed to understand how to apply artistic flair appeared to be Elijah.

Unfortunately, Galahad shrank away in dread every single time he laid eyes on Elijah. Asking him for help once had entirely depleted his remaining courage, and by the following day, he would rather search Google than bring work back to the family dining table.

His psychological state was akin to wanting to conceal the entire process of his hard work from Elijah, regardless of whether the ultimate outcome proved to be a success or a failure. Therefore, Galahad put on a nonchalant, breezy front at home, only to plunge into frantic desperation the moment he stepped out the door. He wished he could slice himself into eight separate pieces: two parts for studying, two parts for resting, two parts for working, and two parts for playing.

Under such circumstances, an average person would inevitably cut back on their sleep, but Galahad simply could not bear to give up sleeping.

After all, drawing cards in his dreams was just as addictive as a gacha game, and missing a single day felt like missing out on a fortune!

Having spent several consecutive days perusing the [Comments], he discovered that the higher-dimensional netizens were just as fond of spewing nonsense as their real-world counterparts. Sometimes, after reading thousands of words of forum threads in a single night, he could not extract even a hundred words of useful content; the water wrung from those posts could easily form a second Gotham River.

Observing the editorial department's movements yielded no progress, while in reality, the process of script adaptation and TV series preparation drove him to the verge of a breakdown. A few days later, a starving and anxious Galahad could no longer restrain himself and engaged in an enterprise that sounded rather immoral when spoken aloud: he registered a brand new account on YouTube, dug out a graphics tablet he hadn't used in ages, sacrificed a whole night of dream-card-drawing opportunities, and stayed up late to produce a dozen-second animation titled "The 'Destiny' Family."

There was no plot to speak of; it was simply a bustling, lively opening theme MAD.

From the art style to the background music, Galahad had completely copied existing works, and the finished product was admittedly far rougher than those official animations. However, because all the credits shared the exact same ID, it was immediately embraced as a masterpiece born of passionate fan labor, quickly accumulating tens of thousands of views.

The comment section was a similarly blazing scene:
[That technical proficiency is insane!]
[Is this a fan work about real-life superheroes?]
[It must be about that harbinger of doom in Metropolis. Not quite a superhero, but definitely quite handsome.]
[So amazing! The art style is genuinely adorable; it reminds me of those Justice League and Avengers animated shorts made by fans previously.]
[Adorable!! The character concepts are adorable too! Although I'm not familiar with the harbinger of doom, the author's animated depiction of a socially anxious, tongue-tied non-human is just so interesting!]

*Sigh.* Galahad looked wistfully at the netizens' comments, thought for a moment, and added a disclaimer in the video description: All character concepts are products of personal imagination and heavy derivative creation. Please do not associate them with reality, nor use them to disturb the normal lives of superheroes.

Netizens replied swiftly:
[You really love the harbinger of doom, don't you?]

*Crap.*
Galahad thought to himself: *I just can't sleep.*

The next night, encouraged by the comment section, he uploaded another short animation lasting a dozen seconds. The content featured the harbinger of doom battling a mechanical kangaroo. While doodling and slacking off during class that day, he had been so blatant about it that the teacher had sent him directly to Black Lightning's office.

When Black Lightning glanced at the image on the graphics tablet: ...

Good grief, wasn't this your father's, uh, romantic partner!

The look he gave Galahad instantly turned subtle.

A supervillain, drawing superhero fan art during class—and the superhero in question was, to a certain extent, his own father. How was one supposed to respond to that? Whether as a son or as a supervillain, the kid was certainly dedicated to his profession!

Black Lightning rubbed his temples and waved a hand, telling Galahad to go back and do whatever he pleased. His mindset was roughly the same as Elijah's: drawing pictures in class had to be better than commanding the Intergang, right?

Thus, that very night, Galahad—possessing astonishing hand speed—uploaded the video to YouTube. The technical proficiency displayed in this piece was even more extraordinary. Even without factoring in the absurdly short production time, for an individual creator to produce fight choreography and a musical score of this caliber could fairly be called staggering talent. Immediately, people began sending private messages asking if he would consider joining an animation studio.

Galahad ignored every single one of them. Watching the view count break past six digits and march toward seven, the emptiness in his heart not only failed to ease, but instead grew even worse.

What did netizens know, anyway?

In the description of his second animation, he wrote: I do not like the harbinger of doom; I am only making these animations for the money.

Comment section: [The creator is just playing hard to get. I love it.]
[Fine, fine, we all know you don't make animations for anyone else and only draw the harbinger of doom because you want money~]

Netizens didn't understand a single thing...!

Amidst this arduous process of self-torture, the director's team finally finalized the rough character designs and the scripts for the first few episodes. Yet, aside from Galahad, no one else in the crew felt particularly confident, with each person harboring entirely different worries.

For instance, Galahad was terrified that he truly wasn't cut out for this path and would make a fool of himself in front of Elijah yet again (even though his father likely paid zero attention to the matter).

The director was afraid of being targeted for blacklisting by Luthor or assassination by the Joker.

The other staff members were afraid that the director or the investor would drop dead before they got paid.

In short, amidst an atmosphere where everyone's emotions ranged from despairing to raving mad, the new script miraculously came into existence!

Naturally, its content was somewhat abnormal.

The opening immediately introduced that, in a parallel universe that defied easy description, there existed a certain billionaire. He possessed an astonishingly thick head of hair, wealth, and power; he was passionate about philanthropy and had once run for President of the United States. He frequently proclaimed in the media, 'No one understands superheroes better than I do,' and had even constructed a green-shelled mecha, frequently piloting it out into the world to uphold justice.

This unconstrained superhero went by the name Joseph Triumph, with the codename 'President-Man,' and also served as the chief commander of a superhero team.

He was deeply beloved and commanded absolute obedience among the masses, but what nobody knew was that Joseph Triumph was actually a psychological transgender individual! Although physically male, due to his upbringing and various other environmental factors, he possessed a completely contrasting psychological self-perception—he felt he ought to be a woman, and frequently entertained the notion of bearing a child for his beloved.

Yet neither society nor his family permitted him to express any heterodox viewpoints. Prolonged suppression caused Joseph Triumph's psyche to gradually warp; he enjoyed forcing men into women's clothing, loved watching 'dominant female, submissive male' dynamics in person, and harbored both sadistic and certain masochistic tendencies. Beneath his glamorous and dazzling exterior lay extreme ruthlessness, a mastery of political maneuvering, the abduction and resale of innocents for human experimentation, and a contempt for moral goodness that placed profit above all else.

Despite all this, however, he possessed one glaring weakness: he harbored an unrequited crush on his teammate—none other than 'Poker Face,' one of the Big Seven of the superhero team.

"..."

Upon reaching this point, Elijah was forced to close the script to alleviate the eye strain, throat soreness, and mild headache induced by the reading process.

Yes, before filming commenced, Galahad had brought their new script for Elijah to preview in advance.

His justification was that since the core idea had been suggested by Elijah, he had every right to see the results.

However, Elijah suspected Galahad of harboring two motives:
First, to use it to ravage the already chaotic soul of an overworked corporate drone; second, to drag Elijah onto this pirate ship so that if the Joker were ever to descend upon Metropolis one day, Elijah would be forced to cover for them.

That being said, Elijah's attention had indeed been captured by the explosive opening of the script. Pointing at the name 'Joseph Triumph,' he asked:
"Is this Luthor?"

"Mhm," Galahad explained. "Luthor's full name is Alexander Joseph Luthor. To avoid stirring up disputes, we used his little-known middle name. As for the surname Triumph, the director wanted to play with a pun—Luthor sounds similar to 'loser,' while Triumph means victory."

Avoiding disputes, but not entirely.

Elijah could feel his temples throbbing violently. As a rather conservative person, the character concept of 'Joseph Triumph' was simply too stimulating. He couldn't even bring himself to ask who had come up with the transgender concept; surely it wasn't Galahad!

At such a tender age, exactly what kind of filth had you been reading?

Galahad shifted his gaze guiltily, eyes darting everywhere.

As it turned out, it *was* his suggestion. The genesis of the idea lay in his dreams over the past few days, where the high-dimensional forum netizens dared to say anything. Amidst their endless chattering, someone had mentioned, 'Luthor is the Kryptonian Codex of Social Genocides/Birth.'

Galahad neither knew what a Birth Codex was, nor why that phrase was phrased as 'Luthor is the Birth Codex' rather than 'Luthor has the Birth Codex in his possession'... Perhaps the netizens had misused their verbs in a moment of panic, but regardless, the word 'birth' had provided him with immense inspiration. The next day, he discussed it with the director, and once they finished talking, the two of them hammered down the character profile for Luthor—ah, excuse me, President-Man.

Now, anyone who laid eyes on this character design would instantly recognize it as a parody of Lex Luthor, yet Luthor himself would likely never dare to publicly acknowledge the comparison.

Elijah couldn't help but ask, "Does Luthor... I mean, President-Man, actually have a baby with the Joker later on?"

"That's the plan, yes," Galahad replied with total composure.

Elijah felt goosebumps erupt all over his skin. To protect the self-esteem of a minor, he offered no further commentary, maintaining a deadpan expression as he continued reading.

To pick up from where the previous chapter left off, 'President-Man' Joseph Triumph harbored an unrequited crush on his teammate 'Poker Face,' but the latter was homophobic, chauvinistic, impotent, a crossdresser, possessed a severe obsession with procreation, and was a clinical psychopath.

He frequently appeared before the public with the persona of a magician holding playing cards featuring Joker faces, possessing an aesthetic that straddled the line between righteous and wicked, unpredictable, refusing to flow with worldly conventions, and utterly indifferent to the lives of others. Because he was so blindingly handsome, the public always managed to overlook the tiny flaws he occasionally displayed—unaware that these flaws were actually the result of heavy-handed sanitization by Vought International.

'Poker Face' had once lived in a psychiatric asylum before being secretly spirited away and cultivated by the government due to his extraordinary talents, eventually becoming a member of the superhero organization. Severe psychological trauma had triggered sexual dysfunction and crossdressing; though his body remained intact, he was utterly incapable of performing, yet he held a longing for a bustling, populous family tree that could only be described as perverted. Driven by this desire, he would frequently don a female nurse's uniform to slip into hospitals, stealing or abducting other people's children before torturing them to death, and had also secretly orchestrated dozens of mass murder incidents resulting in the deaths of over a thousand people.