Samael had just revealed something important. A new layer beneath the mechanics of that world. The System might be absolute, but tutorials… tutorials could be shaped. By gods. And not just to train or level participants, but to observe them, test them, filter them. To search for worthy bread.

But this tutorial, the one Luke was facing, was different.

“What do you mean… the place where the System originated?” Luke asked, curiosity sharpening his voice.

Samael drew a breath.

“It’s only a theory. Not even gods like me know the full truth about the System. What we do know is that it began in a single universe. A universe that no longer exists. And over the ages, it spread. Absorbing. Infiltrating. Expanding into others. Until it reached yours.”

He paused, eyes drifting around the chamber.

“But this tutorial… this one is special. Because part of it wasn’t supposed to be here. In fact, it wasn’t supposed to exist at all.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You mean… the wall, the city, the castle…?”

“All of it,” Samael confirmed. “All of it came from the first universe. The one where the System was born.”

“Then why not just ask someone who lived there?” Luke pushed.

Samael met his gaze.

“Because that universe is gone. And so is everyone who lived in it.” He gestured subtly to the cavern around them.

“And the last remaining fragments of that original world are inside this tutorial.”

Now it made sense. That’s why this place drew so much attention. Why so many gods were watching it.

Samael’s gaze lingered on the cavern walls.

“What the gods can observe from the outside is limited. Only what the System allows. And sometimes, even that comes with a delay. If someone initiates a private conversation, the System shields it. Certain events, we can view live, like when you opened the gate to the Capital. But most of the time? Only filtered pieces. So we don’t know what’s truly happening here. Even if we want to explore it, we can’t. Only you can uncover the mysteries of this place. Things that some call myth. And others… would rather pretend don’t exist.”

Luke exhaled slowly.

“So… not even you know what’s inside that castle?”

Samael shook his head.

“No. The main challenge belongs to the System alone. No god touches it. But the smaller parts, yes. We’re allowed to insert elements, give rewards, influence minor aspects, as long as it doesn’t interfere with the core mission.”

Before Luke could ask anything else, Samael raised a hand.

“That’s as much as I’m allowed to tell you about this specific tutorial. If I go any further, I’ll be pulled back.”

Luke understood. He wasn’t going to get more answers like this. But there was something important he’d just confirmed.

“So… gods can shape tutorials,” Luke murmured. “I mean, normal ones. Not like this one.”

Samael chuckled softly.

“Of course. Like I said… the bread metaphor. Every god picks their own.”

That line led Luke toward a question he’d been carrying deep inside. But he couldn’t be too direct. Not yet. First, he had to test the limits. He decided to aim outward. Something external. A safe question. Just to see how far he could go.

“And what kind of god interfered in this tutorial?” Luke asked. “Are you talking about the ones the World Government serves?”

Samael laughed, shaking his head.

“Far beyond that. Look… I wasn’t even interested in your universe at first. But I managed to join this tutorial as an investor. And I wasn’t the only one.”

He crossed his arms, speaking as if he were explaining something obvious.

“This tutorial was open. An ambitious proposal. Rare. Any interested deity could participate, intervening, suggesting, shaping small pieces.”

Luke processed the weight of that revelation.

“And even while the tutorial is active, other gods can still interact with it. Some just observe. Others, like me, introduced small variables. Missions. Orbs. Rewards. All within the limits of what the System allows.”

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That was when something clicked.

If special mission orbs could come from gods… then what about the Assassination Contract?

Luke quickly pulled up his interface and tapped the special orb he’d been carrying since the death of the Orc Captain:

*Assassination Contract (Exclusive)*

Objective: Assassinate the Lord Orc.

The Lord Orc hides deep within the forest, near the mountains, in the final orc settlement at the base of the ridge. He spends his days enthroned in savage grandeur, commanding raids against tutorial participants.

Your elimination of a Captain Orc has marked you as a real threat to his dominion.

Requirements:

– You must go alone.

– Bringing allies will cause the Lord Orc to relocate.

Reward: (???)

(WARNING: The Orc Lord’s main forces have been defeated. The path will be easier.)

Luke closed the interface, eyes narrowing as he looked at Samael. “I have a mission from another special orb. Can you tell if it came from the System… or from a god?”

Samael sighed, half amused. “Unfortunately, that’s one thing I can’t answer. That would be crossing a line.”

Luke got the message. He’d reached a boundary, and now he understood. Samael was allowed to reveal some things… but not everything.

Still, it was valuable. If mission orbs could come from gods, then any of those quests might be a tool. A test. A filter from a deity trying to shape him, or test him. And that didn’t apply to just him. It applied to everyone in the tutorial.

“It’s not just orbs where gods leave their fingerprints,” Samael continued. “Like I said before, there are other ways they insert their influence. It’s like a series of trials designed to push growth. To teach. Whether through hunting a creature… or discovering new skills. The System is vast. It bends to its user. The more new things you try, the more doors open: new insights, new ways to use what you already know.”

He reached for another piece of bread, tearing it gently in half.

“I’d wager that since you arrived here, you haven’t just leveled up. You’ve changed mentally, too. Grown in how you see and use your surroundings. That kind of growth? That’s gold to some gods. They see it as investing in paths that only you can discover.”

Luke listened closely. Each word was another piece falling into place.

“That’s why,” Samael continued, “even though you come from a small, still-weak universe, you can offer something incredibly valuable to the divine orders. And of course, these gods want to be worshipped. In the end, they win on every front.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, his mind drifting.

He thought about everything he’d been through since this hell began. Every fight, every creature, every enemy. None of it had been random. He only defeated the Mantis because he had studied the bats. Watched how they flew, how they reacted. He mimicked them, sharpened his perception. Had an insight. Then he dove deeper into stamina control, learning how to fortify his body.

Every challenge had been an invitation to evolve.

As if this place was… refining raw gems.

“I get what you’re saying,” Luke said, eyes lost in the flickering firelight. “This tutorial is an oven… a proving ground. But what about the gods? Don’t they already have their followers? The families in the World Government? I bet those guys are strong enough to serve any deity.”

Samael nodded with a subtle smile.

“They do. But think of gods as compulsive investors. It doesn’t matter how good their current lineup is; they’ll always want the next prodigy. The next champion. The tutorial wasn’t their idea, Luke. It was created by the System. The gods just saw the opportunity… and joined the game.”

Luke narrowed his eyes.

“Then… why would the System create a special tutorial like this?”

Samael leaned back.

“That… is a question I can’t answer.”

He paused briefly.

“But I can keep explaining the logic. You seem to be following it well.”

Luke nodded. He understood. Every piece of information was like a thread; his job was to pull it gently, before the whole thing vanished.

“The tutorial is the tray,” Samael continued. “The trials are the furnace. And you… you are the dough. This place is baking you. Preparing you. The gods will pick the best bread: those that rise, brown properly, carry the right aroma, and show promise.”

“But I bet some gods don’t want that,” Luke said, remembering people like Marshall, Bartholomew, and Paul.

“There are gods who don’t want you to leave the oven. They want you to burn, to break down. They feed on chaos. There are many kinds of deities, Luke, and each has its own purpose.”

Luke fell silent.

It was a lot to absorb, but it made sense. He’d felt it from the start, that this wasn’t just a test of strength. It was an experiment. An ecosystem of predators and prey, built to force growth… or extinction. And layered beneath it all was the mystery of the tutorial’s core, something tied to the first universe.

“You said earlier that this tutorial is much harder than previous ones. I remember doing a lot of research before agreeing to System integration. So… even though the gods already have Earth’s powerhouses, this tutorial is creating a new wave. It’s… cultivating talent.”

“Exactly. Unique chosen ones. New paths of learning. That’s one of the reasons some gods are so interested. Every discovery you make, every skill invented, every new way of using the System, you’re building something. And that something… is called legacy.”

“Legacy?” Luke echoed.

Samael nodded.

“Think of every new discovery as a gold coin,” Samael said, spinning one between his fingers, “and your legacy as the vault. Over the course of your life, as you grow stronger, that vault will fill with coins, with wealth. That’s why we use the term investment. The gods are betting on individuals who might, in time, possess legacies of immense value. And from those legacies, new bloodlines may be born.”

He let the coin roll across his knuckles, the gold catching the firelight.

“And through that bloodline, which is the essence of a legacy, a new heir can walk an even greater path. They’ll inherit what came before, refine it, and surpass it. That’s how the gods play the game: long-term.”

Samael’s gaze locked onto Luke’s.

“And now,” he said, voice lowering, “we’ve arrived at the subject you really want to discuss. Your bloodline. The one gifted to you by my master, Azazel. A treasure he placed in your vault.”

Luke held his silence for a beat, then spoke firmly.

“I want to ask you a question.”

Samael tilted his head. “Not about your bloodline?”

“No.”

Samael raised a brow, clearly intrigued. “And what question could possibly matter more than learning about the gift of my master?”

All of Luke’s careful questions, every step of this conversation, had been leading to this moment. And now, he said it.

“I want to know the truth,” Luke said. His voice didn’t waver. “The truth about what happened to my mother.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep