Gong Ze closed his eyes.
Darkness invaded his vision.
When he woke up again, he was in a pure white space. His wounds had vanished. The lingering softness on Gong Ze’s face evaporated the moment he saw this place.
He looked up. Above him, suspended in the sky, piercing through the clouds, was a massive eyeball — so large it triggered a fear of gigantism — slowly rotating directly over his head.
“Fuck you, you shitty Main God.”
Hiding up there pretending to be the sun, fuck off.
Discovered by him, the Main God spoke in a grand, resonant voice: “Gong Ze, your mission has failed.”
Gong Ze’s face was expressionless. “So fucking what? Your mom’s here yapping like a bitch.”
After delivering a series of extremely profane greetings, Gong Ze didn’t forget to raise his middle finger at it.
Lazily, he said, “Passing along my regards to your mother.”
The Main God’s eye turned cold. “It seems your manners haven’t improved with your punishment.”
The man, who had just been sent off by his wife and was in an absolutely foul mood, offered a polite, sarcastic “heh.”
The Main God: “Nevertheless, I forgive you.”
Gong Ze’s cold laugh grew even more grating.
The Main God remained unmoved. In a voice dripping with false benevolence, it said, “I know you’re feeling very low right now. You’re unhappy. You’re in pain. Even though you’re trying hard to hide it from me. That’s why I’ve prepared a surprise for you.”
Gong Ze immediately grew wary: “I don’t need your surprise. Get lost!”
“Really? What if I told you that the surprise is Sang You?”
Gong Ze: “…”
His expression grew grave. He clenched his fists.
Here it comes.
The Main God was still trying to use Sang You to threaten him.
“Even if he is one of the few people I’ve ever developed feelings for, do you really think I’m the type to be so emotional as to sacrifice myself for someone else?”
Gong Ze looked at the giant eyeball as if it were a piece of shit. He sneered, “Even if you have no brain, go see an eye doctor. Everyone knows I’m the notorious scum top of the Transmigration Department.”
“Your aggression is quite strong. Very interesting. It shows that his name does unsettle you.”
The Main God said.
Gong Ze’s response was to simply ignore it.
But the Main God didn’t care.
Behind it, pure white wings blotted out the sky. On every feather of those wings was a majestic, holy eyeball, all of them staring at Gong Ze — like countless people judging a sinner.
“However, you won’t be able to maintain this calm facade for much longer.”
“Gong Ze — have you never suspected why, after traveling through so many worlds — you could be cold and ruthless to all kinds of beauties — yet you fell in love with Sang You, of all people?”
The coldness on Gong Ze’s face remained, but his heart grew heavier.
Watching the Main God’s boastful, self-satisfied display, he knew that this thing wouldn’t be putting on this deep act unless it was certain of the outcome of the conversation to come.
A strong sense of foreboding grew in his heart.
The Main God seemed to see right through him. With an elegant smile, it revealed an earth-shattering secret:
“Sang You is your teacher.”
Gong Ze: “!!”
His body went stiff. His pupils abruptly constricted.
The Main God said slowly, “After your teacher died, I took his soul. I sent him to this world and made him play the role of Sang You.”
“I took away his memories. He didn’t know who he originally was — he thought he was Sang You.”
Gong Ze’s head snapped up, his eyes fixed on the Main God with murderous intent so terrifying it was palpable.
The Main God, however, was not intimidated. On the contrary, it seemed pleased.
“This was the world I meticulously prepared for you — to tame you.”
The Main God lowered its body, as if a colossal beast in the sky was tilting toward a tiny human on the ground, bringing with it an indescribable, suffocating pressure.
It spoke with a triumphant smile, recounting slowly:
“Once upon a time, there was a young genius. Arrogant in his talent, he looked down on everyone. But because of his abilities, the people around him could only yield to his sharp edges — even his school teachers had to endure his humiliation — until he was sent by the authorities, as a ‘promising seedling,’ to a certain man.”
“That man was a gold-medal negotiator.”
“This young genius had encountered another genius, but this man’s talent was introverted, his manner gentle and humorous. He was like a ray of light, and the young genius both admired him and grew fond of him…”
“Correct.”
The Main God smiled, speaking breezily under Gong Ze’s murderous glare. “He loved him…”
A young boy experiencing his first awakening of love — and his older, gentle mentor.
A seventeen-year age gap.
Unable to confess, afraid to confess — because he knew his teacher would not accept him.
“That was a love that withered and tormented him.”
“In the end, unable to bear the inner torment and his feelings any longer, the boy chose to leave his teacher and wander through other countries.”
“His teacher, by chance, discovered the words of longing the boy had written on the back of his photograph…”
“He was full of self-blame. He wanted to talk to the boy. But the boy had blocked him. With no other choice, the teacher put aside important work to go find him. But on his way, while passing through a certain region in Africa, he contracted the flu.”
The Main God watched as the man’s trembling fingertips fell still.
The eyes on its wings squinted with satisfaction.
“…Poor medical conditions. A frail body.”
“By the time the boy learned of it, his teacher had died in that foreign land. What a regrettable loss.”
“It was such a pity.”
“And the boy became despondent. He couldn’t forgive himself, couldn’t accept reality. He didn’t even carry on his teacher’s legacy. Instead, he became a fugitive, a gambler. What a deeply engraved love. If only it could be reconciled—”
“Enough!!”
Gong Ze cut off its hypocritical, ostentatious speech.
Flames of fear and rage burned fiercely within him.
The angrier he became, the colder his voice turned. “Get straight to the point. What do you want?”
Seeing this, the Main God’s wings rustled with a sound like joyful laughter. “I knew you would willingly walk into my trap.”
“My request is simple. I need you. I expended great effort to bring you from your original world to the Transmigration Space.”
Gong Ze laughed mockingly. “Let’s call that ‘kidnapping,’ shall we? Thank you.”
“If you were human, that behavior would be called abduction. Human trafficking.”
The Main God pretended not to hear.
“But I won’t tell you what I need you for just yet. If you agree to obey and complete the tasks I assign you when the time comes, I will place you and Sang You into the same world and let you reunite.”
“And I promise you — once you have completed a certain number of mission objectives, I will permanently hand over Sang You’s soul to you.”
Two buttons appeared before Gong Ze.
The giant eyeball in the sky — the one that triggered his megalophobia — swiveled and lowered itself, gazing down at the tiny human. Its voice was seductive.
“So — what is your answer, Gong Ze?”
“Accept? Or refuse?”
Gong Ze’s reply was three words: “[BLEEP——] your mother.”
Then, face expressionless, he slammed his fist down on the accept button.
A deep, resonant laugh immediately echoed across the sky.
…
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