He still had a little energy left. He could either keep farming for a while longer or draw on the Nine-Tails' Yokai Power.
But despite his reluctance, Gu Mo decisively stopped at this point. The masked yokai had not appeared again after testing him once for some unknown reason, but who could guarantee that they—and whoever was behind them—were not watching from the shadows, waiting for an opportunity?
He could not take risks lightly, nor could he expose his greatest weakness—his transformation had a time limit. Once the time he could keep it up ran out, he would once again reveal the weaknesses of an ordinary human.
Perhaps the gods, Buddhas, and yokai of this world were all very... emmmmm, very embarrassing, but Gu Mo did not lower his guard or become arrogant because of that.
He knew that no matter how down-to-earth those so-called gods were, no matter how little presence they had, it only meant they were not as omnipotent as he had expected. This world felt more like a modern urban superpower setting, where superpowered people wore the skins of ancient myths and called themselves gods as they strutted across the stage.
That was right—that was the feeling. The faint yet lingering sense of incongruity he had always felt about this Dungeon probably came from that.
But even if they differed greatly from the concept of gods in his imagination, the gods' average abilities still far surpassed those of mortals. Aside from the shackles of faith, this was practically the normal expression of their power level. As long as they could maintain a stable existence, they were nothing like Gu Mo himself—
Without relying on the Guardian Spirit's supreme power from another world, he was basically just an ordinary person with a little more strength, a healthier