Slaying God: I, the insane and witty god

The hospital door leading to the outside world was right in front of them; once pushed open, the King of Heroes' wrath could be unleashed upon that imposter.

Gilgamesh's feet seemed to be rooted to the ground, firmly planted on the black and white checkered floor tiles.

He didn't move.

Those eyes, which had just been burning with a ferocious crimson, were now staring intently through the barrier of nothingness at a corner of the ruins outside.

The scene didn't depict a grand battle of gods, but rather an old man covered in blood.

She was desperately covering the eyes of her grandson in her arms with her withered hands.

Not far away, the puppet with the face of "Gilgamesh" was grinning as it unleashed its destructive radiance.

"I'm not going out."

Gilgamesh's voice suddenly lowered, as if his spine had been removed.

He slowly turned around, his back to the door, and all the imposing aura that seemed to want to tear the sky apart dissipated completely.

Lin Qiye frowned: "Weren't you just saying you wanted to charge interest?"

"You saw it too."

Gilgamesh raised his hand, his knuckles pale, and pointed to that scene.

“That face, that body… is slaughtering the people of Uruk.”

He gave a self-deprecating twitch, a smile more painful than a grimace: "What would I be if I went out now? A savior?"

"Is he the culprit who destroyed their homeland with his own hands? I... have no face to see them."

That pride that emanated from his very bones had now turned into a knife stabbing him in the back.

"Pretentious."

Wu Hen, who had been silent until now, suddenly chuckled and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

His gaze swept over Gilgamesh like a knife.

"So this is all the mental fortitude you, the 'Oldest King,' have? Afraid of being scolded? Afraid of being pelted with rotten eggs?"

Gilgamesh abruptly looked up, a hint of murderous intent flashing in his eyes: "You mongrel, what do you know..."

“I don’t understand the art of benevolent rule, but I do understand the art of cutting losses,” Wu Hen interrupted him, tapping his finger in the air.

"For every second that imposter lives outside, another generation of your people will die."

"What kind of tragic male lead are you playing here? Who are you trying to impress with your self-pity?"

Lin Qiye didn't stop Wu Hen's sharp tongue; he simply silently reached his hand into the void.

A ripple spread through the space.

An old, dull coin, which looked like it had been picked up from an antique stall, lay quietly in his palm.

【Pentacle】

"then."

Lin Qiye flicked his wrist, and the coin traced an arc.

Gilgamesh instinctively raised his hand to catch it.

The moment the cool touch touched him, a look of obvious surprise appeared in his usually aloof eyes for the first time.

Immediately afterwards, the hand holding the coin began to tremble uncontrollably.

"This thing..."

Gilgamesh gripped the coin tightly, his fingernails almost drawing blood from his palm.

"How did it end up in your hands?"

"Is this the 'special star coin'?" Wu Hen leaned closer for a glance, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"It doesn't look like any kind of magical artifact; it has a rather ominous smell about it."

"unlucky?"

Gilgamesh lowered his head, his thumb rubbing against the rough surface of the coin, his voice hoarse as if he were holding grit in his mouth.

"It's really bad luck. Because it's not some kind of 'omnipotent machine' that can grant wishes, nor can it bring people back to life."

Lin Qiye's eyes narrowed: "Then what exactly is it?"

It is 'memory'.

Gilgamesh opened his palm, and the coin was slightly warm in his hand, as if something was awakening inside.

"Its only use is to display the person who has the most vivid impression and the deepest desire in the holder's mind,"

"Or a certain period of history, reappearing in this world in its 'golden age'."

Lin Qiye's heart skipped a beat: "A replay? Is it an illusion?"

“It is true.” Gilgamesh shook his head, his gaze frighteningly deep.

"But you only have one chance."

"and……"

He paused for a moment, then looked up at Lin Qiye, his eyes filled with a detached indifference that seemed to have seen through life and death.

"This is stealing the power of 'destiny'."

"No matter who the user is, once activated, even if you are a god-king, you will be regarded as a 'heretic' by the world's rules."

"In the days to come, misfortune will bite you like a mad dog and won't let go."

"Drinking water can cause a toothache, walking can lead to a fatal fall, or even a sudden and unexpected disaster... there is no chance of survival."

The air solidified instantly.

Wu Hen's playful expression faded slightly as he stared at the unremarkable coin: "This is a suicide switch."

"Scared?" Gilgamesh suddenly laughed.

This time, the laughter was no longer forced; it carried a long-lost wildness.

He clenched his fist tightly, gripping the coin firmly in his palm as if it were his last scepter.

"I have nothing to fear in my life."

Gilgamesh turned around and, without any hesitation, strode toward the closed hospital door.

The tattered robe swung behind him in a resolute arc.

"Lin Qiye, open the door."

"Have you thought it through?" Lin Qiye asked in a deep voice, his hand on the doorknob.

"If you use this, you might really die."

"Isn't that just right?"

Gilgamesh didn't turn his head; his voice pierced the long corridor with a clanging sound like metal clashing against stone.

"To allow that imposter to parade around with my face on his person is the greatest insult to the name 'Gilgamesh'."

"Since the legend has become so outdated, I, the king, will personally put a period to it."

Boom——

The door is open.

A violent sandstorm instantly rushed into the corridor, causing the hems of the three people's clothes to flutter loudly.

Gilgamesh took a step forward.

Under the backdrop of endless yellow sand and a blood-red setting sun,

His silhouette appeared exceptionally desolate, yet he stood tall like a solitary peak about to collapse.

"Let's go."

Wu Hen patted Lin Qiye on the shoulder, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his eyes.

"The show is about to begin, it's time for us to lend a hand to this 'king'."