wear it lord god

Chapter 2616 is empty.
With Qiming gone, Bruce was freed from his restraints.

He collapsed to the ground, his mind racing with thoughts, utterly dejected.

She was someone even gods could only look up to; she was unworthy of even the gods, let alone mortals.

He was originally in a high position who could control everything, but now his position has been reversed, which he cannot accept, yet he has no choice but to accept.

He kept replaying the scene in his mind, every single word of the conversation. Especially the last sentence, the suggestion to put himself in the other person's shoes, filled him with despair.

If it's a butterfly, you might catch it and nail it up to make a specimen; if it's ugly, just hit it with the sole of your shoe; if it's unfortunate enough to be a cockroach or mosquito, you can't kill it with the sole of your shoe, and if you can't hit it with your hand, you'd better quickly use insecticide.

After a few knocks on the door without a response, the butler opened it: "Sir, I heard some noise."

Bruce felt incredibly weak: "It's alright, you can go ahead and get back to work."

"Yes, sir." The butler closed the door again.

Bruce struggled to his feet, grabbed his tablet, and began searching. Only by knowing himself and his enemy could he know what to do next. A series of introductions and historical accounts related to the gods of his home planet were displayed before his eyes.

Cheng Tianren Sheng Qiming, the 53rd generation direct descendant of Zhenyuan Venerable Qibin, and the Grand Herald of Huaji No. 3 Immigrant Planet, ascended to immortality in the first year of the new century after receiving guidance, becoming the 1009th immortal and currently the last human to be enshrined in the ranks of immortals...

Zhenyuan Venerable Qibin, ranked 1008th among the gods, was the Grand Herald of China during the Common Era...

Bruce grew increasingly horrified and desperate as he looked at the sight.

As darkness fell, there was a knock at the door. Bruce answered, and the butler opened the door and came in.

"Sir, it's time for dinner. Would you like it delivered, or would you like to have it served downstairs at the buffet?" the butler asked.

Bruce wiped his face with his hand: "Let's go downstairs."

The butler's voice was calm, but a smile appeared on his face as he reminded him, "Sir, you haven't had a proper meal in almost a month. Please eat light meals for the next couple of days."

"Understood." This butler had served his family for five generations, starting with his ancestors. Bruce added, "Thank you, I'll be downstairs in a bit."

"Yes, sir." The butler gently closed the door.

Fifteen minutes later, Bruce arrived at the first-floor cafeteria. Passing by the second floor, he found a cocktail party already underway.

The first floor is divided into two restaurants, east and west. One is for à la carte dining, and the other is a buffet. The buffet is served for two hours each for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and each guest can enjoy the buffet once a day for free.

There were over twenty people in the buffet restaurant at the moment, indicating that the hotel's occupancy rate was about 70%. Based on the current operating situation, it was enough to break even, with a 30% surplus.

Of course, he wasn't short of money; he was just making money to avoid losing this skill.

The rooms here are not cheap. There are many cheaper hotels in the holy city, and even free public accommodations, which are empty rooms of a few dozen square meters without beds. Visitors sleep on the floor.

Even though the rooms here aren't cheap, people still stay. After all, there are many colonized planets, and humanity has already set foot on three star systems and more than a dozen habitable planets. The exact number is difficult to count, but it's estimated to be close to 20 billion.

Two hundred billion people—a staggering number, yet half of them live on barren planets, engaged in farming, mining, and other manual labor. The majority of the rest work as laborers in various families or in factories owned by the planet itself. Only a few percent live lives of financial freedom.

He was among the few percent, yet he was still just a mortal.

Bruce looked at the rows of self-service food with a heavy heart, and finally took a bowl and began to scoop out porridge.

This meat congee is pre-made. Just add a packet to a full pot of hot water and boil for five minutes. The artificial shredded meat inside is fragrant, and the chopped vegetables are bright green. The taste is definitely not bad.

Pre-cooked meals are simple; almost everyone, from those working in underground mines to those attending state banquets at this top-tier club on over a dozen immigrant planets, eats them.

However, the pre-made meals here are all produced on our home planet, and supposedly made with all-natural ingredients without any artificial additives. I'll give them a try. For my stomach's sake, porridge is better today. I don't want to bother the housekeeper to find someone to cook it, and besides, there aren't many people who can cook rice into porridge these days. Eating burnt porridge is worse than eating pre-made porridge.

Bruce was scooping his porridge when a woman approached him. "You're having porridge too?" the woman asked with a smile, her eyes seeming to hook at him. "My nutritionist told me not to eat anything but porridge. I hope to lose ten pounds healthily."

All pre-cooked meals contain the number of calories. By scanning all the data into the computer, the nutrition program will provide suggestions.

Saying you have a private nutritionist is actually an implication that you are rich enough to afford one.

Nutritionists offer more emotional value and imply that you have poor self-control, making them easy to get started with.

In addition, her body language and facial expressions indicated that she wanted to get to know him.

Perhaps in the past, even if the woman wasn't pretty, Bruce would have politely exchanged a few words with her. But today he was in a terrible mood and didn't even want to look at her face.

After ladling out the porridge, he put down the spoon, picked up the porridge, walked to the side, found an empty table, sat down, and began to eat.

After a while, the woman came again, carrying a bowl of porridge: "May I sit here?"

Is your spirit still lingering, still not resigned to your fate?

Bruce stood up, and the woman was delighted, thinking he was going to pull out a chair for her. Unexpectedly, Bruce, carrying his half-eaten porridge, simply walked away.

Looking at the tall figure from behind, the woman gritted her teeth in anger. Was this man blind and deaf, or did he simply not like women?
In the room, Bruce finished all the porridge. He wasn't actually hungry, but he knew he had to eat something.

The room is the same as it was a month ago, but some things from the past month are missing...

He walked to the empty easel, thought for a moment, picked up a blank sheet of sketch paper and clipped it onto the easel, then picked up the charcoal pencil for the preliminary sketch.

Two minutes passed, and the paper was still blank, with nothing on it.

Bruce's hand, which had been holding the pen up for a while, finally came down. He sighed, put down his pen, walked to the edge of the terrace, and stood where he had stood that day. He stared blankly at the branches of the osmanthus tree in front of him—they were hollow…

Three days later, Bruce went to the temple as a tourist.

Entering the temple, he walked past the worshippers prostrating themselves on the ground and stood at the front, looking up at the three deities who occupied the main positions.

The left and right sides are 3D projections, and the one standing on the right is the guy who stole all his paintings.

In the center is a statue carved from white jade, and he can recite the description written on the computer. The entire statue is pure white, weighs seven tons, and is carved from a planetary mineral with the same composition as mutton-fat jade. It was given to the home planet by the United Planet Headquarters 1,200 years ago as a symbol of friendship and peace.

Upon seeing the statue, the last vestige of doubt in his heart vanished completely.

Yes, it's her...

Even if the statue couldn't capture her beauty, not even a fraction of it, Bruce was certain that what he saw that day was the supreme deity.

He stood at the front for so long that some of the believers became ashamed and angry. The believers were kneeling behind him, while he stood at the front.

There were also tourists who just watched without kneeling, but they all stood on the sidelines and watched.

Who exactly is this person making the believers kneel? They have absolutely no sense of public morality.

In the end, it was the temple keeper who spoke on his behalf.

Bruce was persuaded to step aside by the temple keeper. He looked at the keeper, who only reached his nose, even though the man was 1.8 meters tall and good-looking: "Does the temple need more people?"

Are you here looking for a job? Look at your appearance and your clothes, you don't seem like it.

The temple keeper was taken aback, then said, "Everyone here is a volunteer. If you need work, you can..."

"How can you become a volunteer?" Bruce interrupted him directly.