Rick and Morty: My Grandfather is Rick?

A god of blind folly!

The ultimate chaos that is eternal and infinite!

"FUCK!"

Grandpa picked up the briefcase, climbed the stairs, pushed open the heavy metal 'security door,' and the blinding sunlight shone in from outside the garage.

An alarm bell rang in the heart of an old man!

This door should be closed!

As he instinctively pulled back, he saw seven or eight fly-men, their bodies almost entirely gone, just skeletons, standing in a row at the garage door, striking various shameful poses.

Well, if these fly-men wanted to be over a meter tall, they'd definitely need to evolve bones...

Standing behind them was a Jerry.

He wore a pure black pirate tricorn hat at an angle, with dozens of thick braids tied up and decorated. Underneath a long, waterproof navy blue trench coat was a light gray crew neck T-shirt. Two short guns hung from his belt, and he wore a pair of black waterproof boots.

As Jerry grinned and greeted his grandfather, he also slammed Rick's head, still wide-eyed with disbelief, heavily against the entrance to the underground base.

"Hello, P850! I really want to thank you for sending me into that universe, allowing me to find a more meaningful life."

"And I also want to thank this C167; his appearance gave me the opportunity to go home!"

Grandpa's face darkened as he looked at the arrogant Jerry in front of him, because the newcomer was none other than... C167 Jerry!

And that head was...C167's head!!!

Grandpa glanced at the guy's unseeing eyes and was surprised by C167 Jerry's current fighting prowess.

FUCK!

He was actually killed by C167 Jerry without taking any damage!

"You seem quite surprised, aren't you? I'm pretty surprised too. But now it's time to collect the debt. After I cut off your head, I'll have a good chat with your skull about what happened in the meantime!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than C167 Jerry's right hand reached for the old-fashioned flintlock pistol at his waist in 0.001 seconds.

Through a special refining and forging process, the final processed brass, when fired on the first shot, created a large opening five centimeters to the left of the entrance to the underground base.

"FUCK!!!!"

Seeing that his incredibly sturdy underground base had been ripped open by a single shot from C167 Jerry, Grandpa immediately swore.

He knew that C167 Jerry, who could kill C167, was definitely not someone who couldn't shoot accurately. The reason the other party hit that spot was purely to play a cat-and-mouse game.

But would I do as he wishes?

Chapter 468 The Transformation into Divinity

In the gentle morning sunlight, thousands of small birds with feathers of various colors perched on the branches of a dense forest, while Morty, his eyes bloodshot, sat in the shadows on a makeshift bench.

On the left are five dark brown, spaced-out solid wood pieces pieced together.

On the right is light gray solid marble.

Similarly, what appeared before him were two completely different memories.

On the left is a basketball court, where three or four children wearing sleeveless basketball uniforms are sweating under the warm sunshine, letting go of the pressure of studying and releasing their energy on the basketball court.

To the right is a park for walking dogs. Morty, Jerry, Sammy, and Beth are there. One-year-old Morty is sitting in a stroller being pushed by Jerry, while Beth is holding Sammy's little hand. The family is happily taking a walk after dinner.

Beyond the two drastically different early lives lies the gaze of thousands of birds in the trees, a chilling number that fuels Morty's increasingly despairing expression.

He didn't know why he was there.

But the memories that belonged to him and the memories that belonged to the real Morty made him feel as if someone was gripping his heart, trying to crush it bit by bit.

He fought with all his might against the deathly aura that enveloped his entire body.

But he still felt a chill on the back of his head, a coldness seeping into his capillaries from every pore of his body, until even his arteries began to feel cold.

"me..."

Gaaaaaah!!

After uttering a few words incoherently, Morty suddenly heard thousands of birds in the trees let out a strange cry in unison.

The bird then flew towards his face.

Morty, trying to dodge, found that he couldn't move his buttocks at all, as if some kind of glue had stuck him to it.

As the first bird swooped in front of Morty, piercing through his raised hands that were shielding his face, it shattered the bones in both areas in an extremely cruel manner, then plunged its head into his brain, flapping its blood-soaked wings and taking flight while simultaneously using its sharp claws to pluck a piece of brain tissue.

A new round of torture by Morty has begun...

He couldn't remember how many times he had suffered this unbearable torment after witnessing heartwarming scenes.

Moreover, a voice kept telling him in his head that he should give up soon!

Once you give up, you will enter a long sleep free of pain, and everything in this world will have nothing to do with you.

Your life will be blessed with eternal peace.

But Morty just wouldn't give up. He'd been through so much, faced so many dangers, and experienced a life that no one else had ever experienced.

We've finally made it to this point.

Is it all just to give up?

FUCK!! YOU!!

A surge of defiance welled up within him, causing Morty, who had already lost his hands and face, to shove his bare arms, with half of their bones exposed, against the chair. Regardless of whether his buttocks could actually separate from the chair, he used all his strength to try and break free from this restraint.

Even if I die if I stand up!

He will die standing!

Even if he loses his lower body in the process, he wants to leave the shade of the tree and bask in the sunlight before he dies.

Morty was in excruciating pain in his face, and no matter how hard he tried, his buttocks wouldn't separate.

Having lost his upper beak but still retaining his tongue and throat, he roared, his cries mingling with the strange calls of the birds, creating the final symphony of the ball.

When the last brightly feathered bird snatched away Morty's last piece of brain tissue.

His vision returned.

This time, he didn't see the two memories. Instead, he saw Sang Mei standing at her own doorstep, angrily carrying her schoolbag and cursing as she walked outside.

Morty... suddenly remembered that this was the day Grandpa appeared before him.

The beginning of my story with him...

"Rick..."

As Sammy opened the door and walked toward the school bus, Morty suddenly remembered something. He knew that Grandpa was about to make his appearance and take him to steal the pile of cookies to give to Beth.

But his act of thinking about giving Beckham a gift after he appeared made Morty realize a problem that he had not thought about carefully from the beginning.

Was Grandpa a god or a human?

How to put it, Grandpa never acted too divinely. He had many things he cared about, and many things he didn't care about, or rather, he only cared about what he wanted to care about.

That means he was not completely deified.

Because of Rick's pure deification, he cares about nothing.

Based on a law of complementarity, the more divine Rick is, the more human Morty is; and the more divine Morty is, the more human Rick naturally has to be.

Grandpa wasn't very deified from the beginning, which means... he always reserved an opportunity for himself that 99.99999999% of other Mortys wouldn't get.

He's always wanted me to be deified...

But I never knew...

But I can't bear to sever all this love...

Just as Morty was feeling incredibly conflicted, a portal opened in front of him, and an old man clutching a wound in his abdomen staggered out.

The next second, he fell to the ground, his outstretched arm pointing at Morty, his eyes filled with grief and indignation at Morty's incompetence.

"Cough...you piece of trash...why don't you want to die?"

Why do you really want to think of yourself as Morty?

"You idiot who has already been lost among the Motti!"

Looking at the old man on the ground, who was struggling in pain and cursing him, wishing that this good-for-nothing would die quickly and stop wasting the oxygen in this world.

Morty's heart sank little by little.

He knew this was a self-protective mechanism of the body and brain, a way of resisting everything his grandfather said and desperately denying everything he said in his heart.

But deep down he knew that what this fake grandfather said was absolutely right.

His uniqueness is disappearing little by little, and those talents that made Rick's eyes light up are being destroyed by himself.

But what can I do?

I have lost myself.

Living in the world of Remo and becoming Morty, he can be considered the second lost soul after Rick.

Everything that ordinary people love and have to work hard for is nothing more than readily available toys in front of the grandfather and grandson.

Even if Morty tells himself this countless times and reinforces the concept, what good will it do?

significance!

The meaning of life!

what exactly is it!

Everything will eventually disappear!

No matter how beautiful a woman is, she will grow old one day. That face that once captivated countless men will eventually become withered, lose its luster, and lose the beauty that made men willing to do anything for her!

No matter how rich or powerful a person is, he cannot use his money and power to buy himself an endless life. Everything he owns will disappear completely after death.

Even gods... there are no truly immortal gods, because the universes they inhabit will one day disappear...

As Morty grows increasingly disillusioned with life and his indifference and apathy towards everything deepen, the world before him is crumbling bit by bit...

"Azathoth..."