Bisky had long since realized that the strange disturbances within the ancient labyrinth all stemmed from the teleportation point atop the tall tower.
And that teleportation point… was inevitably linked to Germain.
Day after day, night after night, it pulsed like it was breathing—exhaling silver halos and the crown of darkness, inhaling the light of virtue and the torment of shadow.
Recently, its influence had grown more frequent.
Among the two hundred people stationed in the ancient labyrinth, more than half had already experienced at least one of these bizarre states.
Some had been injured because of it.
Fortunately, no one had died—thanks to Bisky, Morel, Kite, and the others who always stepped in to resolve the aftermath.
But today, the teleportation point atop the tower was behaving especially abnormally.
The rhythmic waves radiating from it could be felt by everyone, even those without any knowledge of Nen.
Because of this, Bisky had dismissed all others, staying at the teleportation point alone to observe what would happen before making any decision.
And that was when she saw Germain and Ging return through the portal.
Seeing the injuries on both of them, Bisky immediately stepped forward, concern tightening her voice.
"What happened?"
Germain didn't bother to hide anything.
He summarized the situation in just a few brief sentences.
At the end, he said, "Bisky, I'll leave Ging's injuries in your hands. I have to go back."
He turned, ready to use the teleportation point again and return to that battlefield.
Bisky hadn't even had time to fully process the death of Don Freecss or the horrifying fact that the God of Flesh had descended in person before Germain's actions jolted her.
She quickly reached out to grab him.
"Are you insane? You still want to go back? You have no allies now—Don is dead, Ging is seriously injured, and my strength isn't even on par with his…"
"I have to go back."
Germain cut her off, moving her hand aside, his voice solemn.
"This might be the best chance we'll ever have to defeat the God of Flesh. If we miss it, we may never get another one."
"Bisky, I can't gamble on this—because we might only get one shot. And if we don't seize that one chance, everything will be over."
Why do places like Meteor City and the slums exist among the Six Continents?
Most of the resources across the Six Continents had already been discovered.
The majority were controlled by nations, large corporations, and in some cases, even monopolized by powerful individuals.
In the end, the result was inevitable — much like raising Gu insects, the giants sought to take more from other giants, all while squeezing the smaller ones beneath them.
In such a suffocating environment, places like Meteor City and the slums — the world's garbage bins — came into being.
This served to implant a single, unshakable idea.
It was "natural" for those at the top to exploit those below.
And for those at the bottom, it was only "natural" to vent their anger by exploiting the very lowest of the low.
If the people of Meteor City hadn't risen up, taken up arms, and formed their own defenses, they would have been reduced to just another slum.
Even so, the contradictions and tensions within the Six Continents still existed — and they were only growing worse.
The situation was like a powder keg, waiting for some creature from the Dark Continent to ignite it.
This kind of global crisis couldn't be resolved with a few words, a few people, or even a few years.
Rather than waiting for it to explode, it was better to find a place to release the pressure — a place where all the accumulated conflict and strain could be slowly directed.
That was why Germain had to open a crack in the tangled, stagnant system — to make everyone believe that the future lay elsewhere.
For example: a New Continent, the Dark Continent, or even the far reaches of space.
In his previous life, humanity's tireless pursuit of aerospace technology and exploration into deep space… was for this very reason.
To truly solve the problems of Meteor Street and the slums, to reduce wars and the struggle over resources, and to allow more people to live in comfort — perhaps even in prosperity — there was only one path.
Relentless development.
Development couldn't solve every problem.
But without it, nothing would ever be solved.
And worse — the problems would only multiply, becoming stranger and more volatile, ready to explode at the slightest spark.
Like the pioneers of old, such as Don Freecss, Germain had to carve out a path for those who would come after him.
He had to open up new territory, to ensure the eastern coast did not fall into enemy hands.
Especially now, with the far greater threat of the "Outer God Devourer of Stars."
It seemed like a danger still centuries away, as though there was plenty of time.
But when you considered how long it would take human technology to advance, the truth was grim — time was already desperately short.
Whether humanity could truly develop enough to leave Earth was still an unknown.
Germain was, in truth, a little arrogant.
He could not place his fate in the hands of the future.
He could not entrust it to someone else.
He firmly believed that this was something only he could accomplish.
It was his mission.
Not tomorrow.
Not the day after.
Not some distant day in the future.
Today.
Not him.
Not her.
Not some unknown figure in years to come.
Me.
I must see this through.
Bisky was overwhelmed by the force of his conviction.
She swallowed hard, her words caught in her throat.
"Germain."
At that moment, Ging, still crouched on the ground and breathing heavily, spoke.
"I asked you before if you were confident. You told me you'd only know after an actual fight."
"Well, now you've fought. I'll ask again. Are you confident?"
Germain didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
Ging lowered his head in silence for a moment, then suddenly threw back his head and laughed loudly.
A burst of light flared from his head, revealing a silver halo.
"Good. Then we'll wait for you here."
Germain glanced at the halo above Ging's head, nodded, and turned away.
He activated the teleport lantern, taking the small messenger imp's hand.
Bisky stepped forward quickly.
Germain raised a hand to stop her.
"You can't go."
"I… I know."
She paused, her voice turning solemn.
"I want to tell you this — Shizuku and the child are waiting for you. We are all waiting for you. Whatever happens, never… never give up."
She was a sentimental person, but in this moment, reason had taken over. Her gaze became firm and resolute.
"Mm."
In Germain's mind, the image of Shizuku surfaced.
He thought of something that had happened, probably last year.
Her glasses had been sitting on the desk not far away, yet she hadn't realized it.
She was crouching on the floor, squinting her eyes, searching everywhere.
She searched for a long time, but still couldn't find them.
In the end, it was Germain who stepped in and solved the problem.
If we had a child together… they would surely be beautiful.
And very, very cute.
Buzz—
The air twisted.
The scene shifted.
In an instant, Germain returned to that blood-red world, the earlier thunderous roar now gone without a trace.
Moments later, a grand voice echoed from afar, piercing through the stillness.
"I thought you'd run away for good… But I didn't expect you to have the guts to return. Good. It saves me the trouble of hunting you down."
Germain lifted his head.
What he saw above was a horrifying sight.
The pitch-black sky seemed as if a colossal tumor had taken root in it.
From the tumor's center protruded a warped, twisted face gazing down at him.
Countless tentacles dangled from the heavens, each long enough to touch the ground.
Every single one was covered with suction cups, fleshy barbs, lone eyes, and gaping mouths — all clearly visible.
Before his own eyes, Germain saw the last remains of his remants— the "Prophet of Lies" — being torn apart by several tentacles, ripped into pieces like a brutal execution, until it turned into dust and vanished.
From within the tumor, the voice of the "God of Flesh" rang out again.
"I could have gathered every species, every living being, and obtained the most perfect form. But you kept getting in my way, again and again!"
"First it was Darkness, using walls to restrict my territory and resources. Then it was the Curse of Resentment, that fool who clung to me endlessly, leaving me grievously wounded in the end."
"And now, it's your turn—along with Don Freecss—to kill three of my God's Apostles and destroy every single ritual stone array..."
"I know whose orders you're following! He fears me—fears the day my power will surpass His. Hahaha... and He should be afraid!"
"You should be afraid too!"
Rumble—
Amid the crackling roar of crimson thunder, all the tentacles hanging from above began to writhe, twisting like venomous serpents.
The dozen closest to Germain twisted in unison, lunging toward him from every direction, stabbing forward like fangs ready to pierce flesh.
*******
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