Rick

A natural world filled with birdsong and flowers.

Green trees, grass, and Cthulhu stone statues covered in moss...

Having gotten the Portal Gun and intending to run off to a cultivation world to pick up some techniques, Morty discovered that he was still in the Cthulhu World.

He had nearly opened a portal and gone straight back to curse out Rick, that unreliable old bastard.

So you locked the Portal Gun's selection function beforehand?

No matter which universe coordinates I choose, I can only return to the Cthulhu World.

Damn it!

Angry as he was, going back was out of the question.

If he went back now, Rick would definitely use this to crush his confidence all the time in the future.

Only by resolving the matter of the child in Cthylla's belly without Rick's help

could he hold his head high before Rick again

and say disdainfully, "Isn't it just some trivial Cthulhu business? Boring! I don't know anything, and I still solved it in minutes!"

So now, he could only grit his teeth and keep going.

Rick must have learned some things from this world too, so I need more Cthulhu knowledge. Where should I start...

With that thought flashing through his mind, Morty set his sights on the abandoned Cthulhu statue before him.

He knew that if he worshipped before this statue now,

Old K would promptly appear before him.

But without Rick by his side, it was hard to say what attitude the other party would have.

So...

It never hurt to take a few extra steps.

Maybe he would stumble upon an unexpected surprise?

Morty walked in the direction opposite the statue.

If not for the Cthulhu statue, this beautiful place was actually no different from a normal world.

He passed through dense forests, crossed streams and hills.

Eventually, Morty stopped before a human town.

Seeing the people in the distant town, people who seemed to be in modern times yet had nothing to do with modernity,

men in suits, top hats, and tall boots were everywhere.

Early automobiles traveled alongside horse-drawn carriages.

On sunny days, groups of young women carried floral parasols.

Morty had to marvel at how absurdly long the lifespans of the monsters—or rather, the gods—of the Cthulhu World were.

According to the content described in the Cthulhu Mythos,

as well as some of the history recorded in the Book of Eibon,

three hundred million years ago, Cthulhu had brought a group of underlings to Earth to claim territory, then fought the Old Ones, who had been the big shots here at the time.

In the end, they determined each side's territory.

New land belonged to Cthulhu.

The original land and oceans belonged to the Old Ones.

Yeah, three hundred million years ago...

That was enough time for "humanity" to go extinct and evolve itself again n times over.

Maybe the previous "humans" who ruled this world had been cat people?

"Little fellow, you're dressed so strangely. Where did you come from?"

Just as Morty was hesitating over whether to enter the town, a sheriff with a revolver hanging from his waist silently appeared.

A standard Western-style rugged beard.

A sun-reddened face.

And Cthulhu embroidery on his leather gloves...

Old K's followers really are everywhere...

Since Morty was holding a book and a sword, the sheriff did not approach too closely. Instead, he placed his right hand on the gun at his waist.

If Morty did anything suspicious,

he would definitely shoot first and ask questions later.

Very familiar with that procedure, Morty spread his hands to show that he meant no harm.

Only after seeing the other man relax somewhat did he ask where this was.

"You don't know the name of this beautiful town? Then how did you get here?"

The sheriff was highly vigilant, but Morty had no patience to indulge his feelings. He was constantly losing hair over the matter in the belly of the daughter of the god they worshipped.

Don't get in my way!

He raised the book!

Morty opened the Book of Eibon and recited a prayer from it.

The sheriff, who had been quite tense, began looking at Morty with reverence.

This was a prayer commonly used by the town's priests, a passage spoken when praying to the great Lord of R'lyeh.

Over the course of thousands of years,

those who could stand in place, without using any supplementary medicine, and calmly recite this prayer were almost always elites of the faith.

So even though Morty did not know where this was,

his ability to recite this prayer was enough to prove that he was one of them—one of the truest among them.

His heart was incomparably loyal to Cthulhu!

Morty: "What the hell is 'loyal to Cthulhu' supposed to mean..."

After confirming that they were fellow believers of the same faith, the sheriff enthusiastically led Morty toward the town.

"Our Arkham Town worships only Cthulhu, so the people are simple and honest. Unlike those depraved towns that worship two or three gods or more, where chaotic battles break out every day."

"Wait... Arkham Town?"

"Yes, this is Arkham Town. Haven't you heard of it?"

Seeing Morty stop with an expression of shock and disbelief, the sheriff began secretly feeling uneasy as well.

Their town only had a total population of a little over eight thousand. Compared to other towns and cities, it truly was rather small.

But they were all devout followers of the Cthulhu faith!

Yet this young fellow, who could calmly recite the prayer, looked utterly shocked upon hearing their town's name.

Could it be... that their town's reputation in outsiders' eyes had changed from what it had been more than ten years ago?

Had it even become unacceptable to members of the same faith?

As the saying went, concern led to confusion.

The two had nearly reached town.

The sheriff suddenly grew agitated.

The townspeople in the distance became nervous as well.

Only after a crowd surrounded Morty did he snap back to his senses and stare blankly at the people around him.

"What are you doing?"

"Speak! Why was your expression so strange when you heard Arkham Town? You..."

Morty: "Do you expect me to tell you about the connection between Gotham and Arkham..."

After finding an excuse, lavishly praising Arkham Town, and fooling the bystanders into leaving, Morty met the town priest.

An old white man, with a magnetic presence and a black robe.

Other than the seated, contemplative statue of Cthulhu placed where a cross should have been, every detail was no different from a traditional church.

After explaining why he had come,

Morty smoothly gained access to every book in the church.

But to his disappointment,

they were all mystical ramblings written over the past few centuries and decades by priests flattering Cthulhu.

There was not a scrap of useful material.

This naturally made Morty realize that if he wanted truly useful knowledge, he had to seek out Cthulhu and the others.

Then, he would use his way of thinking, different from theirs, to make flexible use of that knowledge.

But would that be easy?

"Father! An old man came from outside! He's covered in wounds! Most importantly, he has tentacles on his face!"