Arm Treatment and Unable to Leave

Asgard was too dangerous. He wanted to go back to Earth! That was Evenson's heartfelt thought at the moment!

He had come to Asgard for three reasons. First, to deliver a message and farm some reputation. Second, to get his right hand treated. And third, naturally, to watch the excitement—and maybe make a little money while he was at it, if he got the chance.

The idea had been beautiful, but it was only beautiful in theory. He had never expected the title of Sorcerer Supreme to carry so much weight. After borrowing someone else's name to come here, Odin had cornered him and started asking questions that could get people killed.

One moment, he was asking whether Evenson had ulterior motives. The next, he was asking which of his sons should inherit the throne. Who could stand that?!

Don't think that being labeled an envoy meant everything would be fine and safe. Hadn't he heard the story of the man wielding a knife beside the bed? Besides, his identity as an envoy had been completely fabricated! If he got exposed, he would be in serious trouble!

So during this period, Evenson had been avoiding people and staying out of sight, terrified that the God King—who seemed to have taken the wrong medicine—would catch him and start asking nonsense again.

And so, he had practically tiptoed into the treatment room. Before entering, he carefully pushed open the tiniest crack in the door and crouched down to peek inside, afraid that the King of the Gods might be lying in wait. Only after confirming that everything was clear did he dart inside, then slowly and gently close the door.

"Whew..." Only after the door was firmly shut did Evenson let out a long breath. His heart, which had been hanging in