Slaying God: I, the insane and witty god

Wu Hen held the yellowed letter in his hand, his fingers tracing the signature line.

A playful smile curved his lips: "Braggi?"

"Isn't this the muse from your hospital who's always humming and playing the lute?"

"The handwriting is quite delicate, just like a young lady's."

"Give it to me." Lin Qiye reached out and took the letter, his brows furrowing slightly.

The letter paper wasn't new; the edges were even a bit worn and frayed.

It felt like someone had held it in their arms for a long time and caressed it countless times.

In the dim light of Asgard, the writing on it looked particularly glaring.

"Dear Eden:

Winters in Asgard are so long, they seem to freeze your bones to a crisp.

But I had a dream last night that the old tree in your Golden Apple Garden sprouted new buds.

I miss you.

The doctor here said I still need to be observed, but I feel much better.

Really.

I want to write a song for you; the melody is on my lips, and it's full of the taste of spring.

When I'm discharged from the hospital, I'll take this song back with me, and then we'll be under the tree..."

Wu Hen leaned over and glanced at it, then clicked his tongue twice: "Old Lin, something's not right."

"Eden? That youthful goddess?"

"I remember the information said that she was gone before Ragnarok, and there were no bones left."

"Is this idiot writing a letter to a ghost?"

"In the world of the mentally ill, time stands still."

Lin Qiye's voice was emotionless, but his knuckles were white as he gripped the letter.

"In his mind, Eden was still waiting for him to come home for dinner."

"Then this letter..." Wu Hen pointed in the direction of the young man who had already disappeared.

"That messenger who just delivered the letter..."

"Perhaps it's a projection of some kind of obsession, or perhaps the land of Asgard remembers a certain moment from back then."

Lin Qiye carefully folded the letter, his movements as slow as if he were dealing with a bomb that could explode at any moment.

"Let's go in and take a look."

"Go where? To the hospital?" Wu Hen was taken aback.

"I am coming too?"

“Your mental strength is special. Asgard is too chaotic right now, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you out there alone.”

Lin Qiye didn't explain much, and put one hand on Wu Hen's shoulder.

The cold, rotten smell of blood in the surroundings instantly faded away, replaced by a strong smell of Lysol.

White walls, white floor tiles, and a bright but cold incandescent light overhead.

The second-floor corridor of the Gods Mental Hospital.

Although Wu Hen had heard of this place before, this was the first time he had entered it in his physical form (or rather, his spiritual form).

He was just about to express his feelings about the "decorative style" when the front door creaked open.

A man wearing a blue and white striped hospital gown came out.

He was holding a worn-out harp in his hands, and his face wore that kind of innocent smile that made people feel suffocated.

It was Bragi.

Upon seeing Lin Qiye standing at the end of the corridor, Bragi's eyes lit up.

He walked over quickly, his steps as light as a child going on a picnic.

"Dean! You've arrived!"

Bragi approached Lin Qiye with a hopeful expression, but his eyes were fixed on Lin Qiye's hand.

"Um...did you mail my letter for me? Did Eden receive it? Did she reply?"

Wu Hen stood to the side, watching the man who had just written "springtime dream" in his letter.

He opened his mouth, but in the end, he swallowed back the words, "Your wife died a long time ago."

Although he usually has a sharp tongue, he just can't bring himself to be cruel to someone with such a face.

Lin Qiye remained expressionless as he discreetly slipped the letter, which had nowhere to be mailed, into his sleeve.

He nodded: "It's been sent out."

“But Eden has been very busy lately, you know, spring is coming and there’s a lot of work to do in the orchard.”

"Yes, yes, yes! Spring is coming!"

Bragi nodded vigorously, his smile widening, but deep wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes.

“She’s the busiest… What about me? Dean, I feel like I’m completely cured.”

"Can I be discharged from the hospital to help her? I'm very strong, I can help her water the trees and sing for the apple trees."

Lin Qiye remained silent for two seconds.

In those brief two seconds, the air in the corridor seemed to freeze, heavy and heavy.

"Wait a little longer," Lin Qiye said, his voice as steady as a finely tuned instrument.

"Your treatment isn't over yet."

"What if I go out now and my condition relapses, scaring Eden?"

Bragi paused for a moment, then gave a look of sudden realization mixed with some annoyance.

He scratched his messy hair: "Yeah, yeah... I can't scare her."

"She's the most timid one."

"Then I'll stay a few more days? Just a few more days?"

"Yes, if you perform well," Lin Qiye said.

"Okay! I'll go back and practice the piano. I want to give her a surprise when I'm discharged from the hospital."

Bragi didn't press the matter further, picked up his violin, and turned to go back to his room.

A short while later, a light, cheerful humming sound came from the room.

The tune was cheerful, but in the deathly silence of the mental hospital, it sounded indescribably desolate.

Wu Hen leaned against the wall, took out a non-existent cigarette from his pocket, and put it in his mouth—a habitual action.

"Old Lin, that's a bit unethical of you." Wu Hen glanced sideways at Lin Qiye.

"Giving someone hope but not letting them go is crueler than telling them the truth directly."

"If that idiot knew that Eden's ashes were already cold, he'd probably go crazy on the spot."

"Would you rather he go mad, or live in his dreams?"

Lin Qiye turned around, his gaze passing through the corridor window to the vast, misty expanse outside.

Sometimes, the truth is the least needed thing.

"I can't be as rational as you." Wu Hen shrugged, spitting out the fake cigarette from his mouth.

"But then again, the timing of finding this letter in Asgard was too coincidental."

“A god of Bragi’s caliber, even if he’s gone mad, wouldn’t create a projection for no reason.”

Lin Qiye's eyes sharpened instantly, and he glanced down at the letter in his sleeve.

"You feel it too?"

"Nonsense." Wu Hen sneered.

"Besides the fool's longing, the letter also carried a certain smell."

"What does it smell like?"

"moisture."

Wu Hen narrowed his eyes, his tone turning icy.

"A fishy, ​​foul smell that only comes from being soaked in deep-sea mud for a long time."

“Someone has tampered with this letter, or rather…someone is using Bragi’s obsession to guide us.”

Lin Qiye didn't speak, but snapped his fingers in the void, and the two figures instantly disappeared from the hospital corridor.

When I opened my eyes again, the gray sky of Asgard was pressing down on me once more.

“Whoever it is,” Lin Qiye said, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazed at the distant statue of Odin shrouded in black veil.