They all call me an Outer God.

“You may call Him the Lord of Trade, the Origin, or the Lord of Blind Fools.”

"Of course, you can also call Him by His current form and meme if you wish."

"For example... angels."

Perhaps sensing that Sullivan was too frightened, Schwarz knelt down to comfort him: "There's no need to be afraid. After all, everything that's happening here is part of a scheme we've already set up."

He turned to look at the faceless people below: "Long before Golis ascended the throne, the Lord of Trade, together with the mentor, killed and resurrected all the nobles of Endlers. These people have been our people ever since."

"..."

Sullivan's eyes were bloodshot; he could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"So, you've been putting on an act all along..."

Swartz did not deny it, but the next moment, the child in front of him suddenly pounced and grabbed his collar. Even he did not expect Sullivan to have such courage.

"What about my sister... my family members who were killed? The civilians who were poisoned? Were they also part of your scheme?!"

"This is a necessary sacrifice."

Faced with Sullivan's questioning, Schwarz closed his eyes, not wanting to say anything more, while Sullivan smiled wryly and released Schwarz's collar.

"Necessary...sacrifice?"

"Am I ridiculous? We ordinary people are born like waste. You can kill us or play with us as you please, and we can't resist."

"Your dismissive 'necessary sacrifice' has cost me my family and made so many people suffer a fate worse than death! The lower classes are only fit to be playthings of the upper classes! In the end, how are you any different from those evil capitalists!"

“Yes, we’re all just playthings.” Swarth looked at him calmly, without denying it, while Sullivan scratched his head in anguish. He remembered that not long ago this man had said he would tell him the truth regardless of whether the bet was won or lost.

And that's the truth?

This is the truth!
"You did this on purpose, didn't you? You were just waiting for this moment to see me suffer. I was so stupid; I actually trusted my enemy—"

"I hate you all!!!"

Sullivan screamed hysterically, then suddenly pulled out his gun from behind him and pointed it at Swartz's head: "I'm going to kill you!!!"

"You can't kill me."

"Even if I can't kill you, I'll still kill you! These so-called gods are nothing but a bunch of parasites!"

“Everyone here deserves to die. Kill every single one of them. No one is innocent.”

With that, he angrily pulled the trigger.

"including me."

"Bang--------"

Smoke rises.

But the expected bloody scene did not occur. Instead, a burst of confetti burst from the muzzle of the gun, splattering all over Schwarz and even making him sneeze.

"Ah!"

Swarth, somewhat speechless, reached out and brushed a ribbon off his clothes. When he looked at Sullivan again, Sullivan was already clutching his stomach and laughing uncontrollably: "Oh, Lord Nameless Mist, how was my acting? Isn't it a bit inappropriate not to give me an award for Best Actor?"

"It's not good. Only you could come up with such a terrible idea."

"Don't say that. Without me, you don't know how badly you would have forgotten your lines. After all, I am a creation of the primordial beginning. Isn't it only right that I ask Him for a role to perform?"

As Sullivan spoke, he suddenly melted away, and soon he had completely dissolved into a pool of blood.

Above the blood, a mask slowly emerged. It was Dale.

The bodyguards who were hired and the civilians who were killed were all Hephaestus.

Nyarlathotep has enough clones to kill as many as he wants without feeling any pain, let alone sending them to Gherros to serve as tentacles.

"You keep forgetting your lines, so my contribution as the teleprompter is undeniable."

Dale floated in mid-air, turning to look at the hideous, dark tentacles: "Only our Lord can bring the actors and the audience together in one place at the same time."

Currently, numerous investigators from the Order Association have surrounded the golf course. As they witness the dark tentacles that seem to extend almost into the universe, everyone turns pale.

But their superiors gave them orders: they only needed to stand there and observe, and not do anything for the time being.

And they also received an order.

If a person walks out of the auction hall after the tentacles disappear, their mission will be considered successfully completed.

If it is a mythical creature, it means that number 000 has completely lost its mind, and the Order Association has no choice but to use the last resort: to abandon the entire Endlers and more than thirty surrounding countries for the sake of the world.

The investigators knew perfectly well what this meant—they would all die, everyone here would die.

Even so, they cannot escape. Someone must stay here. Even in the final moments before the destruction of human civilization, they will become the last wall protecting humanity.

"Want to escape? Buy a ticket now and go abroad to Antarctica, maybe you'll still have a chance to survive."

"No, rather than living, it's better to stay and witness the birth of an angel."

“That’s number 000, the Origin.”

"Some things, even if you only see them once in this lifetime, you'll die without regrets."

"so……"

"So I'm not leaving, I'm staying here."

……

In the vast expanse of the universe, hidden within a palace of flesh and blood amidst a corrupting nebula, Gherros slept soundly, seemingly having a beautiful dream.

But gradually, his sleep quality became less and less good.

The dreams were bizarre and began to twist unexpectedly, turning from pleasant dreams into nightmares. Gherros dreamed that his projection, which was responsible for foraging for food, was now wailing and being devoured by something unknown.

Knowing that he wouldn't have nightmares for no reason, he lowered his consciousness again, intending to go and observe what was happening on the other side of his projection.

Go ahead

That consciousness, taking on a human form, descended near the missing projection.

But who knew that the moment He appeared, an overwhelming sense of unease would surge from the depths of one's soul.

As far as the eye could see, the layers upon layers of dark gray tentacles had completely submerged His projection. At this moment, they were secreting highly corrosive acid, thoroughly digesting His projection.

The moment they discovered the arrival of Geheros's consciousness, the tentacles stirred slightly and surged wildly toward His consciousness.

Realizing something was wrong, Geheros quickly tore through space and time and disappeared from the spot.

Who knew that those tentacles, relentlessly pursuing Him, would actually traverse through time and space, like needles and threads weaving through endless time and space, following Geheros without letting go.

Furthermore, they did not chase after it all at once, but rather twisted and wove from different times and spaces until they formed an inescapable net that trapped it in a jar.

(End of this chapter)