"Wait!!!"
Just before Number 1 stepped into the portal, Morty suddenly shouted, like a messenger racing to the execution grounds with a reprieve in hand just before the blade fell.
"Hmm?"
Number 1 stopped, looking at Morty in confusion, seemingly curious as to why he had suddenly called out to him.
But on second thought, the overall situation was already settled. He only needed to take one step forward to return to the Citadel of Ricks.
So was he... planning to kneel and beg for mercy?
That made sense!
No matter how unique a Morty he was, no matter how outstanding his performance, he was still a Morty at heart. Timid, cowardly creatures—their entire purpose was to flatter Ricks, wasn't it?
Thinking about what might happen next, Number 1 had to admit that this was one of his favorite scenes.
Praise, compliments, groveling, and all sorts of similar behavior.
For Ricks who had turned this into a profession, tormenting Mortys was quite enjoyable.
"Fine, wait then. Let's see what you're planning to do."
As Number 1 spoke.
Morty had already placed the die back on the ground.
Although the hints in his memories were already quite clear, he knew he was gambling—gambling that Grandpa, that old master schemer, had really prepared such a backup plan for him.
Seeing the die placed back on the ground, Number 1 pursed his lips in disappointment.
But the next second, he was no longer disappointed!
Morty took a step backward—something that was nearly impossible in a game of Monopoly without special items.
A sense of foreboding rose in him.
He turned to leap into the portal, but a powerful force began forcing time across the entire platform to flow backward!
Number 1's body began rewinding through his previous actions. The portal slowly closed, and