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

To put it bluntly, if things continue at this rate, Japan will be removed from the list of "major powers on Earth" within three years. At that point, forget about being the pinnacle of Earth; just keeping their existing territory from being divided up will be considered a stroke of good fortune.

What Miyamoto Kenichi offered was a path he had never imagined.

A road that is both extremely dangerous and extremely alluring.

Yamamoto Furukawa closed his eyes.

He is a demigod.

But first and foremost, he was a job changer.

Every job changer, no matter how grand their words may be, deep down they crave only one thing—greater power.

This desire is ingrained in the professional's genes. Just as you can't ask a fish not to swim, you can't expect an old man who's been stuck at the demigod level for decades to be unmoved by the allure of the Origin level.

Moreover, he wasn't just doing it for himself.

The entire country of cherry blossoms is almost sinking. If a lifeline were offered to him, he would reach out and grab it, no matter what was on it.

This is not a matter of choice.

There was no other choice.

When Yamamoto Furukawa opened his eyes again, the resistance and anger in his eyes had faded considerably. In their place was something so complex that even he himself couldn't quite explain it.

"Go on."

Just three words, dry and lifeless, as if squeezed out from a crack in a rock.

But Miyamoto Kenichi was waiting for those three words.

A slight smirk played on his lips; he knew the fish had taken the bait.

"Old Yamamoto, before I continue, let me correct a misconception of yours."

Miyamoto Kenichi crossed his legs, speaking as casually as if he were talking about a newly opened ramen shop next door.

"After the globalization of data, there has been a consensus among leaders of various countries. You should also know that."

Yamamoto Furukawa didn't reply, but nodded slightly.

Of course he knew.

That consensus is an unspoken secret among the highest levels of government in various countries.

It's the kind of statement that would shake the entire superhuman system of Earth.

Regardless of whether he responded or not, Miyamoto Kenichi continued speaking on his own.

"Global digitalization, professional awakening, alien invasion, abyssal rifts—what exactly is going on? On the surface, it seems that Earth has suddenly entered an extraordinary era."

"But after excavating a large number of ancient relics and taboo documents, leaders from various countries came to a conclusion that sent chills down everyone's spine."

Kenichi Miyamoto extended a finger and drew a circle in the air.

"We, and those other races, including the monsters in the abyss, and even more races we haven't encountered yet—are essentially the same thing."

"Gu worms".

When those two words came out of Miyamoto Kenichi's mouth, they felt as heavy as two lead ingots.

"A Gu worm raised in the arena of the gods."

Yamamoto Furukawa's expression did not change much.

Because he certainly knew that.

As the highest-ranking combat force in Japan, he has the authority to access this level of classified information.

The so-called "Gu" is to put a bunch of poisonous insects in the same jar and let them bite, devour, and eliminate each other.

The one that survives to the end will be the strongest Gu King.

Leaders from various countries believe that the essence of global digitalization is that some being beyond human comprehension—let's call it "God"—has turned Earth into a giant jar of poison.

Humans, alien races, and abyssal creatures are all insects in a jar.

Forced to fight each other, they constantly evolve, and the fittest survive.

As for who those gods who "raise Gu" are, where they are, and what their purpose is—no one knows, and no one dares to investigate further.

While this idea is chilling, it is at least within the comprehension of normal people.

However, what Miyamoto Kenichi said next completely overturned this perception.

"But in reality—"

Miyamoto Kenichi's tone suddenly changed, as if a storyteller had finally reached the most explosive turning point of the entire event.

"This perception is wrong."

"Or to be more precise, it's outdated."

Yamamoto Furukawa raised an eyebrow.

"The god who raised poisonous insects—is dead."

The effect of that statement in the room was comparable to dropping a depth charge into a public swimming pool.

Yamamoto Furukawa froze completely.

"What?"

"I said, the gods are dead."

Miyamoto Kenichi repeated himself, his tone flat: "He died a very, very long time ago. The messenger didn't give me a precise number of how long, but it was at least measured in epochs."

Yamamoto Furukawa opened his mouth, as if to say something, but found that the connection between his mouth and brain seemed to be broken.

Miyamoto Kenichi continued speaking, giving him no time to process what he was saying.

"After the gods died, they left behind a huge power vacuum."

"This vacuum will naturally be filled by something."

Kenichi Miyamoto lightly drew a few lines on the floor with his finger, as if he were drawing a rough diagram of a power structure.

"Those beings who try to fill this vacuum, you can call them 'contenders' or 'false gods.' Anyway, they're just a bunch of guys who covet the legacy of the gods."

"And we—"

Miyamoto Kenichi pointed to himself, then to Yamamoto Furukawa.

"Whether human or alien, in the eyes of these false gods, they are not even worthy of being called Gu worms."

He paused for a second, as if thinking of a suitable analogy.

"Do you know what tinea is?"

Yamamoto Furukawa's expression became extremely interesting.

"It's that kind of thing that grows on your skin, it doesn't hurt or itch, but you can't scrape it off completely."

Miyamoto Kenichi explained in a serious tone: "We are just a skin disease on those false gods. Not a Gu worm—at least a Gu worm has some strategic value."

"Psoriasis is practically nonexistent. You can scratch it off, but if you don't scratch it, it won't bother you much."

Yamamoto Furukawa's lips twitched slightly.

He has lived so long, fought countless battles, and has so much experience that he could write an encyclopedia.

But at this moment, only one thought occupied his mind—

That's bullshit.

From Gu worms directly downgraded to skin tinea?

The psychological gap is too big, isn't it?

Before, I at least thought of myself as a contestant in the arena. Even though I was being manipulated, at least I had some meaning and value in existing.

Now you're telling me I'm not even a contestant?

It's a patch of tinea that grows on someone else's skin?

I know you might find it hard to accept.

Seeing Yamamoto Furukawa's expression, which looked like he had swallowed a whole live toad, Miyamoto Kenichi patted him on the shoulder understandingly.

"My reaction was even stronger than yours when I first heard it. I almost chopped that messenger in half."

"But that's just how it is."

Miyamoto Kenichi's tone turned serious: "Old Yamamoto, you've always thought that Origin-level is the pinnacle of a professional, haven't you?"