Slaying God: I, the insane and witty god

Lin Qiye's fingers rested on the doorknob, his fingertips feeling the coldness of the metal.

He didn't turn around, but the gazes from behind felt like needles piercing his spine.

"Old Lin, this idiot has changed."

Wu Hen muttered to himself, his hand already touching the hilt of the short knife at his lower back, his eyes fixed on Bragi in the shadows.

Bragi stood next to the mailbox, his fingertips tracing the rusty metal, producing a harsh scraping sound.

The foolishness on his face vanished completely.

The smile at the corner of his mouth revealed a detached absurdity that saw through the world: "Dean, if too many letters can't be sent, they'll crush you."

"You know the letter can't be sent?" Lin Qiye turned around, his voice as cold as ice.

"Spring in Asgard is long dead, I just want to hear a sound."

Bragi looked down at the harp, gave a self-deprecating laugh, then waved his hand, and his figure became transparent.

"Go inside, she's been waiting for you for a long time."

“There are some things that I, a useless person, can’t explain, but she can draw them for you to see.”

After saying that, Bragi disappeared at the end of the corridor like a wisp of smoke.

Wu Hen exhaled a breath of stale air and cursed, "Damn it, there isn't a single truly insane person in this hospital, they're all Oscar-worthy actors."

"Let's go, business is important." Lin Qiye pushed open the door to ward number three.

There were no hospital beds or the smell of disinfectant as I had imagined.

The moment they pushed open the door, their feet touched the soft soil.

All around were fields of withered orchards, each golden apple tree dry and shriveled like a menacing claw.

Only a woman draped in white sat in the center.

Eden, the goddess of youth.

Countless translucent letters floated in front of her; those were written by Bragi.

“I can actually hear the letters he writes.”

Eden looked up, her voice so soft it was heart-wrenching, carrying a weight of time.

"But he didn't know that I was also in this cage, unable to reply to the letter."

Looking at the desolate scene, Wu Hen felt a lump in his throat, but he still retorted, "Since you can hear me, why don't you give me a response?"

"Even scratching a mark on the wall is better than letting him be a broken record outside."

"Because this is the 'embers of memory'."

Eden shook his head bitterly, tapping his finger lightly in the air.

A complex golden vein pattern slowly unfolded before Lin Qiye.

"Dean Lin, you want to go to the Abyss Dungeon to rescue Jinian, right?"

Lin Qiye's pupils contracted as he stared at the picture: "You know it?"

“In the deepest part of that dungeon, there is a malevolence that makes even the gods tremble; that is my neighbor.”

Eden's tone became extremely serious.

"That was Fenrir's prison, and Asgard's true wound."

“Every inch of the soil in the place you are going to has been soaked in the blood of God.”

She pointed to several red dots on the map: "These are blind spots for the guards' patrols, but remember, blind spots are for the dead."

“Fenrir’s sense of smell can transcend space; as soon as you step into the third level of the dungeon, its breath will ensnare you.”

Wu Hen leaned over and glanced at the route, memorizing it.

He chuckled, "So it's a dead end? That wolf's roar could shatter us into pieces!"

"So, you only have three minutes."

Eden looked at Lin Qiye, his eyes filled with helplessness.

"If no one is rescued within three minutes, the place will become a meat grinder."

“Bragi is outside helping you to keep your sense of the rules at bay, and all I can give you is this picture.”

As the image flooded into Lin Qiye's mind, a heavy sense of responsibility made his breathing quicken.

He looked at Eden, then thought of the poet feigning madness in the corridor.

He whispered, "When I get back, I'll find a way to let you two meet."

Eden was stunned, then gave a sad smile: "Dean, don't make promises to the gods. We are most afraid of being in debt."

"Retreat." Lin Qiye abruptly closed his eyes.

The space of consciousness collapsed instantly, and a strong sense of weightlessness swept over me.

The desolate feeling of the real corridor enveloped my body once again.

Lin Qiye opened his eyes, just about to go over the details with Wu Hen, when the shadow beneath his feet suddenly twisted without warning.

A chilling sensation shot through my ankle and into my spine.

It felt like a slimy, venomous snake had crawled up my spine to the back of my head.

"Don't move." Wu Hen's voice trembled slightly as he stared intently at the shadow behind Lin Qiye.

A thick, inky black shadow, like melting asphalt, silently crept into Lin Qiye's shadow.

The shadowy figure had no physical form, yet it emitted a foul stench that could freeze one's blood.

Lin Qiye froze on the spot, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shadowy figure move in an instant...

The incandescent lights throughout the corridor began to flicker wildly, making a crackling sound.

In the darkness, a pale, bloodless hand slowly emerged from Lin Qiye's own shadow.