"They really were pitiful fools."
Donnie walked through the underworld, looking around at this world steeped in deathly silence. Even if he flew for decades, he would not see more than a few moving things.
He examined this sealed top-tier world as he pondered.
After a long while, he finally let out a sigh.
"They really are... a bunch of pitiful fools."
If those Almighty Gods learned that he was a life-form who had crossed over from the world beyond the wall, they would surely go mad. But what could they do even if they knew? Capture him and dissect him?
It would be useless.
His essence was that of an ordinary man. He had only grown to his current level through desperate effort over the years. Even if an Almighty God learned of this and captured him, they would gain no useful information.
Because even Donnie himself did not know what the Omniverse beyond the wall was like. He had never seen it with his own eyes.
Even— even if those Almighty Gods could truly analyze some information about the outside that even Donnie himself did not know, what would that change?
Could that little information help them break free from the Source Wall's restraints? No, absolutely not.
What restricted these omnipotent beings was fundamentally not the isolation of information, but limitations of strength and backing.
The world of American Comics had always been incomparably cruel. Hidden behind one story after another of superheroes saving the world were contests involving bloodlines, origins, backing, and luck.
No matter how formidable, righteous, or admired by the public an ordinary superhero was, they could never compete with monsters on the level of Superman, Batman, or Thanos—characters with fathers and sons at the highest levels.
Every time you worked hard to reach greater