Thanos, Cucked! 3/3

Outside, Carl had already fled back to the warship with his tail between his legs like a beaten stray dog. Death's aura was too overwhelming. Even after transforming into darkness that devoured everything, the sheer suppression from the difference in energy levels left Carl terrified out of his wits.

Fortunately, Death did not care about him.

Forget merely beating up her husband—even if someone killed him, Death would not care.

Because Death was death itself!

Killing Thanos would instead allow them to be together forever, inseparable as water and milk.

Feeling pale, delicate fingers clad in gauntlets press against his shoulder, the purple potato wore a face paler than washed-out purple cloth—an expression he had never shown even in the original story—and said, "I don't know what happened either. Their appearance was too sudden and too coincidental. In fact, today was my first time seeing them as well."

Even if he was henpecked, he could not possibly drop to his knees and start groveling immediately!

Men, hmph!

"Is that so?"

The pale fingers pressed down slightly harder, and Thanos immediately added,

"Of course. I suspect all this is connected to that Necromancer from the Outer Realm. Earlier, I sensed unfamiliar Energy Fluctuations and assumed he was here, which was why I came... Yes, that's it."

Mohawk blinked. If Death's power had not been so terrifying that he could not move, he would have wanted to gouge out his own eyes...

Then stuff them back in.

Could you believe it?

The most infamous and terrifying butcher in the universe was actually speaking to someone in such a nervous tone?

Even if it was only for my dead compatriots, get your cold-blooded act together, bastard!

Yet all of that could only remain in his imagination. Death did not care about him at