The God Race... Sometimes I really didn't know how to describe these gods from the Starfield World. They were so absurd that they left people laughing and crying, impossible to pin down. Sometimes I felt they were probably the most admirable gods I had ever encountered, myths included: responsible, mighty, and loving all living beings. But more often, I felt that from top to bottom, they were a bunch of unreliable bastards.
Ever since I got to know the God Race Cops Five-Man Team, I had barely seen them do anything befitting their identities as gods. Instead, I saw them running all over my territory every day, stirring up trouble wherever they went. Viska and Monina went out every few days to buy piles of random things. Shopping was a woman's nature, apparently even goddesses had that instinct. The pretty clothes they brought back were enough to make half a regiment look ravishing; Kenser was a nice old fellow, but he was also a hopeless househusband. I guessed that had something to do with him having looked after a group of problem children for tens of thousands of years. Uncle Kenser had developed the habit of visiting supermarkets every day, competing with old men and women for discounted eggs, and wandering around the vegetable market for two hours at a time. By now, he had earned a reputation as the invincible man with an overwhelming advantage at the East Street vegetable market. Middle-aged women within several kilometers all treated him as an idol and asked him about recent vegetable prices. What gave me an even bigger headache was that whenever Uncle Kenser took the little ones out, those brats came back armed to the teeth! Kenser's attitude toward troublesome children had always been to buy whatever they wanted. If he