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

"Don't be in such a hurry, old Yamamoto. Why is your temper becoming more and more like that of someone going through menopause?"

Despite being directly insulted, Miyamoto Kenichi remained unperturbed, simply smiling and waving his hand dismissively: "Elephants certainly won't cooperate with ants. But if an elephant gets a thorn stuck in its foot and can't pull it out itself, and an ant happens to pass by, the elephant wouldn't mind asking the ant for help."

Yamamoto Furukawa frowned but did not reply.

Miyamoto Kenichi's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a serious expression. "That envoy told me that the struggle between the false gods has already begun. In other words, our dilapidated blue planet has something they desperately need."

"What is it?"

Yamamoto Furukawa asked instinctively.

"have no idea."

Miyamoto Kenichi shrugged and answered confidently.

"I really don't know."

Seeing Yamamoto's expression turn cold again, Miyamoto Kenichi curled his lip and said, "That envoy didn't tell me either."

"Or rather, that guy probably doesn't even know it himself."

"After all, they're basically just employees of a false god, or agents at a higher level, or believers at a more feudal level. Whatever the boss wants, the employees just do it; they have no right to ask questions."

Yamamoto Furukawa paced back and forth on the tatami mat, looking like a restless old wolf.

"Fine, even if we have what they want here."

Yamamoto Furukawa stopped and stared at Miyamoto Kenichi: "Then here's the question. Since they're false gods, and since they're so powerful, why don't they come and take it themselves? Wouldn't it be more efficient for them to do it themselves than to ask us ants to do it?"

Kenichi Miyamoto snapped his fingers: "You've hit the nail on the head."

He held up two fingers.

"There are two reasons. First, although false gods are powerful, they are also subject to great limitations."

"The more powerful an entity is, the harder it is to cross the dimensional barrier. Just like you can't put a whale in a fish tank, if they really tried to force their way in, Earth would be blown to bits on the spot. Everything, including the planet, would be gone!"

Yamamoto Furukawa nodded thoughtfully; the logic made sense.

"The second point, and the most crucial point."

Miyamoto Kenichi lowered his voice: "There's more than one false god. Everyone's eyeing this piece of meat. Anyone who dares to openly make a move will immediately become a sitting duck, attacked by the other false gods."

"It's like several old bachelors in the village all having their eyes on the same widow."

"Whoever knocks on the door first gets punched by the others. So everyone has to sneak around sending their underlings to flirt and get ahead of the game, understand?"

Yamamoto Furukawa was speechless at this crude metaphor, but he had to admit that although the words were rough, the meaning was sound.

"etc."

Yamamoto Furukawa suddenly seized on a blind spot, "You keep calling it a false god, but what exactly is this false god?"

Miyamoto Kenichi sighed, his eyes turning somewhat strange.

"Old Yamamoto, have you ever slaughtered a pig in your life?"

"What do you mean?"

"The gods are dead."

Miyamoto Kenichi said slowly and deliberately, "Like a pig that has been slaughtered. But gods are different from pigs. Gods are too powerful. So powerful that even when they die, the flesh that falls off their bodies, the appendix that is cut off, and even a single hair on their head, absorb the essence of heaven and earth over a long period of time and give birth to self-awareness."

Yamamoto Furukawa's eyes widened little by little.

"That's right."

Seeing his expression, Miyamoto Kenichi nodded in satisfaction. "False gods, to put it bluntly, are just a part of the remains of gods. They inherited a tiny bit of the gods' power and awakened their consciousness."

"Now, these removed appendixes and tonsils all want to usurp the throne and become new, complete gods."

The appendix has become sentient.

These five words were all that remained in Yamamoto Furukawa's mind.

He felt that his worldview had been rubbed into the ground eight hundred times by Miyamoto Kenichi today.

Now there's not even a trace left.

"Therefore, I'll make a bold guess."

Miyamoto Kenichi stroked his chin: "What those envoys came all the way to Earth to look for is no ordinary treasure. It's most likely the core essence left behind by a god after his death, or some kind of opportunity that can truly transform a false god into a god."

The room was eerily quiet.

Yamamoto Furukawa felt his hands and feet were cold.

If what Miyamoto Kenichi said is true, then Blue Star is not a blessed land at all.

Rather, it's a powder keg that could explode at any moment.

A group of monsters, whose remains have become spirits, have turned Earth into a treasure hunt in their quest to seize the ticket to godhood.

Who can stand this?

"Don't you think this is ridiculous?"

Miyamoto Kenichi smiled.

"Not only is it bullshit, it's deadly."

Yamamoto Furukawa gritted his teeth and said.

"But there's an even more absurd piece of evidence to prove that everything I just said is true."

Kenichi Miyamoto stretched, his bones cracking as he said, "Have you ever wondered why there are so many strange and unusual dungeons and secret realms in this world?"

Yamamoto Furukawa was stunned.

Instances and dungeons are things that have existed since global datafication.

Everyone has gotten used to it and treats it as a resource point for leveling up and farming equipment.

Who would care where they came from?

"The messenger told me something."

Miyamoto Kenichi's expression darkened: "Whether it's the dungeons we humans use or the secret realms of the alien races, they are essentially things from the false gods."

"What do you mean?"

"Literal meaning."

Kenichi Miyamoto said, "After the god died, his power collapsed. Those scattered fragments of power crashed into the river of time, stirring up waves from different eras."

"Finally, these waves solidified into independent spaces and fell into our world."

Miyamoto Kenichi, seeing Yamamoto Furukawa's blank face, continued to attack.

"That's why the time periods and backgrounds of the dungeons we encounter are all messed up."

"Some are modern cities, some are medieval Europe, and some are simply ancient wilderness. Because they are simply fragments arbitrarily cut from the river of time!"

"These fragments, tainted by the aura of the false god, have become what they are now."

"The so-called artifacts and materials we fight to the death in the dungeons are nothing more than dandruff falling from the corpses of gods."

Dandruff.

Yamamoto Furukawa felt a churning in his stomach.

His most prized demigod weapon, a national treasure he risked his life to bring out from an SSS-level secret realm.

So what people see as dandruff?

He has lived for over a hundred years, and never before has a day been like this.

I feel like I'm a complete joke.

"Now you understand, right?"

Miyamoto Kenichi's smile vanished, and his tone became incredibly serious: "We have no way out. This world is too treacherous. Gu Xu has emerged from Shenxia, ​​and it looks like he's about to drown us in a basin of water."

"And outside, there is a group of false gods who are eyeing us covetously."

"If we don't find a powerful backer to cling to, we're doomed sooner or later. And we'll be utterly annihilated, leaving not even ashes behind."