The job change is a bizarre and calamity; the nation begs me to tone it down.

The gust of wind came very strangely; it didn't move any of the furnishings in the room, and it didn't even make the candlelight on the table flicker.

But Yamamoto Furukawa felt the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stand up.

As a demigod, his perception of his surroundings was shockingly acute.

Someone has come in.

Moreover, without his knowledge, it directly broke through the many barriers he had set up and appeared silently in his room.

Yamamoto Furukawa's pupils contracted sharply, and his magical power surged wildly within him in a fraction of a second, causing his withered body to tense up like a fully drawn bow.

They are ready to unleash a devastating attack at any moment.

However, before he could make a move, a slightly mocking voice rang out in front of him.

"Hey, old Yamamoto, what are you doing practicing Toad Kung Fu in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?"

That sound...

Yamamoto Furukawa was stunned for a moment, and the magic power that had been gathering in his palm abruptly stopped.

He looked up and followed the sound.

He noticed that there was another person standing less than two meters in front of him.

This man looked to be in his early thirties, and he was quite handsome, but his attire was really not flattering.

Despite the freezing weather, this guy was wearing a faded floral shirt, a pair of baggy shorts, and flip-flops.

He was even holding a glass of iced cola that he had somehow gotten his hands on, and he was sucking on the straw with great relish.

That look, that aura.

He looked exactly like an unemployed bum who had just finished eating barbecue at a street food stall and was strolling back home.

But when Yamamoto Furukawa saw this person, he looked as if he had seen a ghost, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

"What's wrong? Haven't seen you for a few days, don't you recognize me?"

The newcomer grinned at Yamamoto Furukawa's astonished expression, revealing a set of bright white teeth.

"Why do you look so pale? You look like you've eaten two pounds of dead flies. Is it because you've been dealing with too many messes back home lately, and it's making you constipated?"

Yamamoto Furukawa ignored the other party's teasing.

He stared intently at the man in the floral shirt in front of him, his mind buzzing.

"Miyamoto... Kenichi?"

Yamamoto Furukawa's voice was somewhat hoarse, and even carried a slight, almost imperceptible tremor.

"It's rare that you still remember my full name."

Miyamoto Kenichi, with a straw in his mouth, mumbled a reply before plopping down on the tatami mat opposite Yamamoto Furukawa.

Regardless of whether the other party was happy or not, he placed the can of cola in his hand directly on the small table.

Yamamoto Furukawa's emotions were like a rollercoaster ride.

Of course he knew Miyamoto Kenichi.

This guy is a swordsmanship genius that only appears once in a century in Japan. Back then, he cleaved open the abyss rift at the top of Mount Fuji with a single sword strike, shocking the entire circle of extraordinary individuals on Earth.

Today, he is also one of the true demigods.

But the problem is, shouldn't this guy be in Beidao City?

"Why are you here?"

Suppressing his shock, Yamamoto Furukawa frowned, his tone laced with accusation: "The abyss rift over in Beidao City is SSS-rank! Why aren't you guarding it? What are you doing here? If the monsters from the rift escape, the entire North Island will be doomed!"

The abyss rift in Beidao City has always been a major threat to the Sakura Kingdom.

For so many years, it has all been thanks to Miyamoto Kenichi who has been suppressing things so relentlessly.

His running away was like dropping a time bomb right on the street.

Thinking of this, Yamamoto Furukawa almost spat out a mouthful of blood. "Do you even know what the situation is like in the country right now? The Saints are almost all dead! You, as..."

But he suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

It felt like someone had grabbed my throat, and all the words I wanted to say were stuck in my throat.

He stared intently at Miyamoto Kenichi, and an unbelievable, extreme terror gradually surfaced in his cloudy old eyes.

Not right.

Something is very wrong.

Yamamoto Furukawa was so shocked by this guy's dereliction of duty that he overlooked a crucial detail.

He could no longer sense Miyamoto Kenichi's presence.

As a demigod, Yamamoto Furukawa's perception could easily see through the disguise of a ninth-order saint.

Although Miyamoto Kenichi was strong in the past, in his eyes he was still a sword with its sharp edge fully exposed, and that fierce sword intent could not be hidden no matter what.

But now.

The man sitting in front of him seemed like an ordinary person with no magical aura.

No, not an ordinary person.

Yamamoto Furukawa's heart began to pound wildly, a sense of dread from the depths of his soul creeping up his spine.

He tried to use his mental power to probe the depth of Miyamoto Kenichi's abilities.

As a result, his mental energy had barely touched a half-meter radius around the other person's body when it vanished without a trace, like a clay ox sinking into the sea.

Not even a ripple appeared.

It felt like he was trying to illuminate the entire universe with a single match.

Vast.

Unfathomable.

It even carries an absolute suppression that transcends the rules of the world.

"you……"

Yamamoto Furukawa's lips trembled as he pointed a finger at Miyamoto Kenichi.

His voice had completely changed, becoming shrill like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

"Your aura...is wrong!"

Yamamoto Furukawa suddenly stood up.

"You...you're not a demigod!"

Miyamoto Kenichi took a sip of his cola, the ice cubes clinking crisply in the glass.

He raised his head, looked at the horrified Yamamoto Furukawa, and a meaningful smile appeared on his lips.

"Old Yamamoto, your eyesight has improved."

"you……"

Yamamoto Furukawa felt that his brain was completely inadequate.

An idea that was utterly absurd, yet the only one that could explain everything before him, grew wildly in his mind.

"Source level..."

Yamamoto Furukawa squeezed out those two words through gritted teeth, as if he had exhausted all his strength.

"You actually... broke through to the Origin Level?!"

How is this possible?!

What is the concept of source level?

That is a supreme being that has touched the origin of the world and truly transcended the realm of mortals!

Looking across the entire planet Earth, which one of those who has reached this level isn't an ancient monster who has lived for countless years? Which one didn't endure centuries of seclusion and isolation in a forbidden land to achieve this?

And what about Miyamoto Kenichi?

This guy is at most a young man in his fifties or sixties.

They spend all their time drinking cola and reading comics in Beidao City, without even a proper training ground.

Is this the source level?

What a joke!

"Don't overreact like that, breaking through isn't a big deal!"

Miyamoto Kenichi casually tossed the empty Coke cup aside and stretched out a big yawn.

Upon hearing this, it took Yamamoto Furukawa a full ten seconds to calm his heart, which was about to leap out of his throat.

Source level.

These two words echoed repeatedly in his mind, and each time they echoed, his blood pressure spiked.