Zugabe: Dear God

Foreword:

What makes us humans unique can be summarized in one word: "Culture".

--Richard Dawkins | The Selfish Gene

[Part 1: The Long Journey]

The Immortals Feather Lord turned into a pile of minced meat.

Bu Liuxing hugged the BOSS and slowly walked towards the cave exit.

He had so many questions in his mind, so many incredible mysteries—

--But none of that matters anymore. I'm no longer so fixated on it, no longer putting in so much effort to get to the bottom of things.

"I"

"I"

Since disembarking, he had encountered formidable enemies time and again, barely getting a good night's sleep and having no time to catch his breath. Gloria was like a whetstone, almost driving Meteor to the brink of mental collapse.

He won time and time again, and lost time and time again.

When they win, they are wildly elated; when they lose, they are heartbroken.

Some people live with all their might, some people are worse off dead than alive, and some people go with the wind.

He was so exhausted that he could barely utter a word. In the instant his powerful enemy was killed—just like Gloria waited by the water for the General of Tears to break through the fork in the cave and struggle out of the dark, lightless underwater whirlpool—this desolation and loneliness almost drove him mad.

"Don't worry, I'm with you." The good cat, holding its oxygen mask, looked lazy and listless even when it saw the sunlight—it was so far removed from its physical body, having been confined in a cage made of candy for five whole days.

The taut string in his heart snapped. There were no longer any formidable enemies to frighten him, no more oppressive and restless Inspiration Pressure, no more chilling and deadly intent. Similarly, the lively and joyful sound of castanets urging him to a decisive battle also disappeared in this bustling city.

Barefoot, he stepped onto the firm moss, walked across the damp rocks of the mudflats, and onto the dry, scorching sand.

Time passed so slowly, yet so quickly. After the tropical storm, rain, snow, and hail left the city, the sky was clear and blue. The blood-red sunset near dusk resembled a half-cooked egg, spreading a red glow in the misty vapor, like a cowboy's scarf, blowing out bursts of hot smoke.

The comfortable, salty monsoon winds of the coastal area blew through Meteor's hair, rushing into his throat and nasal cavity, causing hives and pimples to appear on his body—a cry for help from his exhausted body.

"It's so beautiful!"

Meteor, lacking in education, looked towards the city from the bay and couldn't take another step.

It felt as if all the salt in my body had been drained away by the sweat, and my soul was radiating light along with my blood.

"I have another task. There's more."

Meteor mumbled incoherently, still remembering that he was going to Huacheng Bay to help Wood Plark out of trouble, there was a magic pool waiting for him to destroy, there was also Fret Caesar's Horcrux, and there were nine layers of hell to explore.

"Little brother, you look like you need an oxygen mask more than I do." Good Cat shoved its life support device into Meteor's face—making sure the gasping subordinate got a good breath.

Meteor took a deep breath of oxygen, and her eyes immediately cleared.

The boss continued, "Don't worry, don't worry, everything will be taken care of."

Meteor pulled out Summoning Bell from his tattered pocket; it was the only way he and his wife could contact each other.

"The soldiers are always moving between the stations." The BOSS looked up, holding Meteor's hand. "When the bell rings, the waiters always follow closely behind."

The shooting star never wavered once in its resolve regarding this bell.

Because he thought that a real man should put his family at ease when he's out in the world.

But the BOSS nudged his hand, trying to ring the Summoning Bell.

"We need to find a way to get this thing out of here." Qi Ji wanted to move MK-28, but the temporary command issued an order that the thing must be taken to a safe place—MK-28 was too close to its detonation point.

"Aren't we going to defuse the bomb?!" a soldier from the scout team asked. "Commander, should we remove its barometer and altimeter? Even removing the conventional detonator would be fine, right?"

"The risk is too great," Qi Ji said calmly. "There's no one like that in the scout team. Have you ever handled a nuclear bomb? It's from over seventy years ago. Who has the qualifications? Who has the experience?"

No one present answered, but they all had a general idea of the answer—the closest person with the capability to handle thermonuclear bombs was Wood Plark.

"Nine Realms Central Station is sending a message." Hong Fan, a member of the scout team, took out his Summoning Bell, which belonged not to the combat team but to him as a passenger. "There's a message to decipher."

Meanwhile, the passengers and attendants of the Dragon Cavalry Corps all took out their personal Summoning Bell.

These bells are not usually rung. The warriors of Guangling Zhixi rarely carry bells when they are on missions. After putting on their battle robes, carrying gear and badges, they have to say goodbye to their exploration work and go to protect the people in the city. The sound of the bells would often reveal their location and put them in danger.

As a level-two preparedness team, they all brought their Summoning Bell with them when they came to Shambhala to carry out this rescue mission.

Qi Ji and several brothers from the military corps carefully carried the nuclear warhead, smoothly flattening it and placing it on the glider. Together with his comrades, they cut the parachute lines to prepare for the subsequent transport mission.

"Translate?"

The second group of observers immediately exclaimed, "General of Tears has won!"

Meanwhile, the three groups of observers chimed in, "He's fine; the boss is with him."

"Their messaging speed is very slow," added Qi Ji's companion who came with him from the command post. "The General of Tears is out of strength. The BOSS is ringing a bell; it can't send messages quickly, so it can only use one bell to transmit messages."

The thirty-five people present initially refrained from uttering any unnecessary words, expressing any sentiments, or cheering.

They maintained maximum restraint, still remembering what they were supposed to do and continuing to complete the mission according to Mr. Gunsmith's execution standards. However, as soon as the new bell rang, some people's will collapsed immediately, like drowning people who had fallen into an emotional vortex, having just climbed down from a dangerous peak and completed their personal stage of the mission, they collapsed completely to the ground.

"We won?! We won!" This guy was from the third scout group of the Dragon Cavalry Corps. He was thirty-five years old and had just entered the cooling-off period after his divorce. He had a son and a daughter. His husband was also his servant. He sent her the new message through the Summoning Bell at the Council of Five Kings counter.

She could hardly believe it; she could no longer control her emotions. The scalding hot bell made her ecstatic, and allowed her to take a deep breath of oxygen from the deathly fear of the nuclear explosion.

"We won! The General of Tears isn't dead! Hey! Hey!"

"I didn't want to be honest with him! I came here."

"Arrived in this godforsaken place"

"It would be better to give him custody of the child!"

She started rambling incoherently, talking about the things she cared about most and missed most.

"I might not be able to go back. There's nothing I can do."

"I have no choice."

Dear God

Burning, intense emotions are like a contagious disease, far more contagious than the Vita Imprint.

On the other side of the ocean, through the combined efforts of the board counter and the head of customer service, the Hunter King found the people these warriors cared about—including A Hao's waiter, who was more than twenty years his senior and acted as both a mentor and a mother to him.

To travel over 8,000 nautical miles and deliver a message of safety, the only way is through these bells.

Even more heart-wrenching cries came from the two alternates of Group Six. Having lost their leader, they handed Jason Megan over to their medically skilled comrade in Group Seven. Before they could even collect their leader's belongings and remains, they were transferred to the Special Hazards Handling Group to deal with this nuclear bomb.

Hou Zhiyong could have overcome these emotions. As the scout vanguard of the sixth group, he needed to have a stronger fighting will than the leader and come up with a countermeasure as soon as he encountered the enemy. However, during the transport of Jason Megan, he hesitated, and the group leader carried out the self-destructive explosion for him.

He was twenty-seven years old. As a member of the Dragon Cavalry, his legion had an advantage in marching ability, and he and the nameless man had achieved perfect attendance.

His fellow observer was a 24-year-old New Zealand boy with reddish-brown hair named Nathan Cooper.

They had maintained a relatively calm demeanor while dealing with the problem, but as soon as the team leader's Summoning Bell rang, the brothers' will crumbled.

How should I reply?

How should we deal with all of this?

"My dearest Little Kitty," someone murmured softly, sobbing. Having finally gotten a break, she leaned against the cold stone of the rock platform, then immediately stood up, looking worriedly towards Commander Qi Ji.

The one-ton nuclear bomb was lifted by six people.

They gritted their teeth and embarked on a long and arduous journey once again.

[Part ② - Together]

"Can they hold on? We've changed riders for the next leg!"

As a hybrid of a calamity beast, Master Hong Fan possesses astonishing arm strength and plays a crucial role in the transport team.

The parachute cords caught on Qi Ji's shoulders, leaving two bright red scars; he could hardly bear the weight.

"My leader is with me."

Lady Luck has never abandoned them, never.

Without Gloria leading the way, this strange group moved forward with surprising stability.

They have excellent memories; once they've walked a route, they can recognize the way they came. Perhaps their railway career instilled fear in them, causing them to wander through cave after cave, spend lonely nights by the campfire, looking at their shadows on the walls, at the route maps drawn in gray chalk, and at the simple portraits of their loved ones.

After walking through a karst cave that is over 800 meters long, there is also an underground palace that is over 1,600 meters long.

After traversing a complex passageway of 1.5 kilometers, there is still 3.6 kilometers of mountain road ahead.

We walked up the gentle mountain road of Zhuguang Peak and down the steep and treacherous complex rocky beach.

Upon reaching the Que Mountain Street near the Church of Dionysus, ten deceased crew members awaited their return.

--Of course, there were also two little donkeys.

They stood ready, gazing at their brothers and sisters of different surnames and races, who had come from the same place and were raised in the same civilization.

MK-28 lay down on the cart and was carried along by two rather unruly donkeys.

By the time he arrived, Qi Ji's back was practically broken; he could hardly believe he was capable of accomplishing this.

Just a year ago, he was a "vampire" living in the attic of a fast food restaurant, leading a regular nocturnal lifestyle.

The moment the baton was handed to someone else, he was almost completely exhausted, and his spirit collapsed along with it.

The commander plopped down on the breakwater and immediately began to wail, almost without hesitation; it was so sudden.

He thought of his Lingyun Group partners, his home more than 20,000 meters above sea level, and the simple IDs he had met on the internet. Thinking of all this, it seemed that all the connections became closer, and everything was related to him.

It felt like I'd been soaking in the dark ocean for far too long, and finally I could catch my breath.

As the sun sets and sinks into the sea, casting a warm red glow, on the southwest coast of the East Malaysian peninsula's port area, one can witness both sunrise and sunset, laughter and tears, life and death simultaneously—this journey is too long, far, far away.

Today is the 27th, Friday.

The mission was completed, and Bruce, the crow-man, withdrew from the command post. As a hybrid, he arrived early at Que Mountain Street to receive the nuclear bomb.

Upon arriving at Qi Ji's side, Bruce recounted the battle situation at Huacheng Bay.

"Fridays are always bad. The United Kingdom love to carry out executions on Fridays. Jesus Christ died on a Friday. Cain killed Abel on a Friday. Apollo 13 exploded on a Friday. Everything is terrible, my brother."

"What about the Demon Pool and the Soul Weapon?" Qi Ji asked, wiping away his tears as he looked up.

Bruce grabbed Qi Ji's arm, pulling the young and promising commander back into combat mode.

"There's good news and bad news. Don't ask which one to tell first, because we'll be saying them together."

"The battle on the shallow beach is over, but in the sewer system, Fret Caesar's four Horcruxes are still alive and kicking, along with a massive magic pool. The preliminary reconnaissance work has been completed, and there have been quite a few gains."

"A powerful reinforcement has arrived from the Southeast Theater Command. She's none other than Su Ling, the substitute teacher who often imparts combat knowledge to you. She's here because of the BOSS."

"Mr. Wood Plark used Origin Magic again. After the War King's phantom appeared, she grabbed Soul Artifact Dad and Gnu Rider the head and beat them up—but failed to kill them completely. The primal essence from the Original Seed seemed to recognize these demonic creations, showing a hint of brotherly affection."

"They escaped deeper into the underground sewers and are awaiting further instructions."

"Fret Caesar's resurrection is only a matter of time; dealing with this troublesome devil has become the top priority."

After Bruce finished speaking, he pointed to the nuclear bomb on the donkey cart.

"You've successfully brought it back. Mr. Wood Plark's point is—if you have a nuclear bomb, you must detonate it."

"Huh?" Qi Ji didn't understand.

Bruce went on to explain, "What's the safest bomb in the world? The gunsmith master said—is it a dismantled bomb? Is it gunpowder soaked in water? Is it a flammable and explosive device with its fuse and explosive material properly separated and stored?"

"None of those. The truly safe bomb is the one that explodes after the explosion."

"Friday is unfortunate, absolutely terrible, the worst day," Bruce sighed. "But the weekend is almost here, and so is the Sabbath."

A temporary military post has been set up beside Siyaoju Road in Huacheng Bay.

Teacher Su Ling, who had just arrived at the scene, was verifying the effects of the Origin Magic.

--The War King's illusion lasted only twenty-six minutes. She came to the material plane from Pandemani. The Gnu Rider and Soul Artifact Dad were no match for this terrifying monster. They were beaten so badly by the black horse knight that they crawled all over the ground and rolled back into the sewers.

She wanted to confirm one fact with Wood Plark again.

Can you really be resurrected on Saturday?

Wood sat in the barracks' rest area, sipping tea to recharge for the demolition mission scheduled for the early hours of the morning.

"I'm a dog if I lie."

Su Ling shrugged indifferently; after all, she wasn't the one who jumped into the demon pool with a nuclear bomb in her arms.

Yes—you heard right, Wood Plark is preparing to charge into the devil's pit with the MK-28 and strike at the heart of the enemy.

As for Wood Plark's reputation in Shambhala, was he the chosen one of the gods Amon or Goddess Aio of fertility? Did he possess true immortality on this special Sabbath of Saturday?

Su Ling was unaware of these things and didn't understand them; they were completely outside her comprehension.

At that moment, Ms. Duran, who was also resting in the lounge, burped.

She had turned into a puddle of mud; Shali Knight had almost drained her mental energy, just like when she first arrived in East Horse Port. She made strange, incomprehensible noises, as if she had swallowed several tuna, and was half-dead.

At this time, the sun was just beginning to set.

--Flavia stayed close to Teacher Su Ling, listening nervously as the two Shining Butterflies analyzed the current situation. In the [Phoenix] system's view, a symbol suddenly popped up on her forehead.

[EXP+100]

[Kill count +1]

"What's going on?" Flavia was very confused. She hadn't done anything, so how did her kill count suddenly increase?

Perhaps Gloria has been turned into bird meat biscuits, can answer this question.

Meanwhile, Jason Megan was picked up by scouts and taken to the front-line supply depot, ready to be evacuated at any time.

In the medical area, Katusha hugged her beloved husband and wept bitterly.

"Sir! Sir! I thought you were going to die!"

"Waaaaaah!"

Her cries sounded like an air raid siren.

Jason's limbs hadn't grown back yet; the Flash Butterfly had taken away far too much of his vital essence, and he was still hanging by a thread.

He was rational, yet desperate, with little will to live, his deformed body wrapped in a thick, warm blanket.

Katusha

"If I didn't"

They didn't make it.

"I"

I hope you...

Katusha's tears flowed more and more as she scolded him.

"What nonsense are you talking about! What are you saying?!"

"You're not allowed to speak!"

Jason was unable to fight off the hallucinations of death within him.

"But... but my heart is too heavy, I can't bear it. I can't win against it."

Katusha

"No, no, no! No, no, no, no!" The little waiter covered his ears, not even bothering to wipe his snot. "I won't listen!"

Jason whispered, "Would you... would you remain a widow for me?"

The couple's wedding was not yet completed, and their promise to stay together for life seemed to be ending before it even began.

Jason: "No looking at handsome guys, no looking at other men."

"Good heavens! You're starting to talk nonsense." Katusha covered her ears, but still managed to read the lips.

Jason: "Promise me."

Katusha: "Where's the doctor! Where's the doctor!"

Jason was too weak to speak, "Don't you dare drool over the male models on the cover of fitness magazines!"

Katusha: "My good husband has gone mad! What is he saying?!"

The only sound was the crunching of popcorn being chewed.

Ms. Su Ling held a bag of dried corn kernels and asked Mr. Wood to touch them.

Immediately afterwards, brilliant sparks erupted from the bowl, accompanied by crackling and popping sounds—

She tossed the snack up into the air, letting it settle between her lips and teeth.

"Wonderful."

The Nine Hells Evil God Lamastu showed no surprise whatsoever at the child's failure.

--Fret Caesar once again disappointed her, tumbling miserably back to the Netherworld from the Material Plane.

"I've given you more than enough chances, you poor little bug."

The evil god looked down at the deformed child before him from its high position, its enormous, grotesque body looming over him.

Fret Caesar has reverted to his pathetic and hateful crippled form, all his power now derived from the evil god.

"Mother! Mother! Please! Please!"

"Give me another chance! Let me return to the material plane! Reshape me! Reshape me!"

"When I get back, I'll kill all those ungrateful bastards! I'll take their most precious flesh and offer it to you!"

Lamastu's exact appearance is difficult to describe; she has three heads, a lion on her left shoulder, and a bird on her right shoulder.

Her belly resembled a swollen, grayish-white donkey hide, her hands were each wielded by a ferocious two-headed snake, and she wore a hunting dog on her chest. She was nursing these children.

"You will be punished! You must be punished!" The blood-red skull between the lion's head and the bird's head shrieked.

Countless dead souls surged from the funnel-shaped ramp of the Netherworld. Their limbs were dislocated, and most of them were strange and evil spirits who had been tortured and lost their minds. They dug out blood eggs from their stomachs, and then sharp-toothed, crimson infants broke open the eggshells. These were also spoils that Lamastu, as a vicious banshee, collected from the material plane by harming infants.

These infants had no eyes, ears, or noses; their facial features were just empty mouths. Upon receiving instructions from the evil goddess, they immediately pounced on Fret Caesar's deformed spirit and began to devour his flesh and blood.

Fret suffered agonizing pain, almost to the point of madness. All he could see were evil spirits and vengeful infants devouring his flesh and drinking his blood. Terrified, his spirit split open, and his head was split in two on the spot.

Lamastu felt nothing but exhilaration.

Ever since that strange spirit came to the Netherworld last time and beat her so badly that her bones were broken and her flesh was torn apart, almost causing her soul to be scattered, she has never had a chance to vent her anger.

Having finally seized the opportunity of Fret Caesar's return to the Netherworld, I'm determined to give this pushover a good beating and vent my anger!

Several hours later, Fret's consciousness was almost completely fading away, and the evil goddess Mother barely spared his life.

When the two demons were about to forge a new kinship and sign a blood pact...

--The pitch-black bombs hurtled down rapidly through the funnel-shaped crater in the Netherworld!

Wood Plark hugged MK-28 tightly, a naive, healthy, and cheerful smile on his face, with two loyal Horcruxes following behind him.

The giant's offspring completely panicked, unable to catch up with the suicidal [Outlaw] in the strange, gravity-defying Spirit Realm.

The Gnu Rider were left far behind; even the wildebeest's hooves, blazing with blue flames, couldn't catch up with the nuclear bomb.

The terrifying old woman stood there, squatting beside the rotting, stinking pool of flesh and blood, scratching her head. Beside her were three or four nocturnal beast babies that had just hatched from the nurturing pool. This demonic beast mother, dressed as Nun in black robes, didn't know what had happened; she only knew that a madwoman carrying a strange "black stick" had rushed into the demonic pool.

The last fat guy dressed as a numb, steel-nailed butcher had just come out of the corpse stitching room, carrying two sets of otherworldly demon material in his arms. He had finished half of the invention and was preparing to go home.

Their sworn master, Fret Caesar, let out a piercing scream. Upon recognizing what his father was holding, he was terrified and plunged into utter despair!

A burst of pure light exploded in the center of the Netherworld Realm crater, its perfectly spherical shape rapidly expanding and engulfing everything.

That was energy, immense and unimaginable energy.

Fret hadn't finished speaking yet!

"I'm so excited! Original--"