Demon Lord 3

Suddenly, I had a sudden urge to ask the True God: What if your first child fell ill and became ill? You're powerless, your blood type isn't compatible, and you have no choice but to have another child. Using umbilical cord blood can keep this child alive. If you were to ask the True God this question, what would He do? He smiled and said he'd try everything. I told him he could only do it once. He said humans only have one choice, while the True God has 1 possibilities, countless possibilities, and can try everything. That's the difference between the True God and humans. But at this point, I stopped and said he was cheating. What would happen if we followed human reasoning? It is impossible to let the first child fend for himself, he said of course not, he might choose to have a second child, this might be the family affection he has been looking for, but he has not yet been proficient in using family affection. I asked him why he had to use this word, maybe it was not appropriate in terms of family affection, he shook his head and said no, he felt that using this word was a very appropriate word in terms of family affection, after all, he wanted to use family affection, he wanted to use family affection to do anything. I asked him what he wanted to do mainly, he said maybe he wanted to feel family affection, the kind that can move you for a person, can live and die for a person, and use his so-called ability but his own hard work. He wanted that spirit of hard work and progress, and did not want to sit in this supreme position since birth. He stood there, watching the group of people running below, it was like seeing a group of ants crawling slowly. He wanted to help so much, but as a family, he couldn't move. He couldn't use his real strength. He could only try with his simple strength. In this way, he was actually satisfied. He didn't ask how strong his ability was, nor did he ask what those people would do, but he always understood one thing, that is, everything he called was possible. As a true god, he didn't have to think about anything he hadn't thought about before. He could do everything again, with detailed planning and deployment, he could find more possibilities, he could think of everything, he could do countless simulation exercises, but there was ultimately a problem that he couldn't escape. If he were also a human, what could he do? Just as I finished thinking about this, he saw I was bored and said he'd arrange a trip for me, an experience. I asked what kind of experience it was, and he told me it was a survival experience, but the outcome wouldn't necessarily be survival. I asked what he meant, but he didn't continue talking. Instead, he teleported me into a fantasy world. My mission was to survive within the fantasy world, but I didn't understand what this fantasy meant to me. When I closed my eyes, everything around me seemed to be moving, but when I opened them, nothing was still. After the dust settled, I felt like I'd entered a state. What kind of disease is this? I'm the child in the story, and neither are the parents. The most wrong thing is that I understand it clearly. I'm the first child in that family. Seeing this, I was shocked. I didn't expect to be able to see it from this perspective. Perhaps this is the perspective we should really see. The parents' decision is the rebellion of the second child. It's the second child's opinion. But what does the first child think? After undergoing a series of treatments, I might have felt like giving up. After all, it had been so painful for so many years. I'd watched my younger siblings suffer the pain of donating for me, watched my parents spend lavishly, watched them scrape together scrape together enough money just to arrange this surgery. In fact, as the first child, I'd already considered giving up. Would the family be complete and harmonious without me? Perhaps, perhaps it would happen without even thinking about it. That evening, my younger sister came in, softly calling me "Sister," asking if it hurt. At that moment, my heart melted. Perhaps that person was just a fantasy, not me, but I could now empathize. I touched my sister's head and told her I wasn't in pain, but she said she wasn't sure if she'd recover or if she'd feel any pain from the next surgery. I knew she was going to donate a kidney to me, but I didn't want to do that. A piece of her liver had already been removed last time, and she was recovering for a long time, having her blood drawn daily and filtered before giving it to me.