Brunhilde took Alex’s arm, and together they watched Göll retreating, clutching the robo-dog tightly. Alex sighed, knowing that events would inevitably unfold according to their own course — Buddha’s fight was unavoidable.

However, his concern lay elsewhere: the Seven Gods of Luck, who would soon merge into a single entity, an ancient god named Zerofuku. This youthful deity sought to rid humanity of suffering by absorbing their misfortunes and granting them happiness in return. But his noble intentions turned into a catastrophe. Absorbing human woes, Zerofuku became a source of dark energy, which ultimately corrupted his essence. The people freed from suffering sank into their vices — greed, lust, and gluttony.

Recalling the tragic fate of this god, Alex could only sigh.

“He wanted to do good, but it turned out as always,” he muttered under his breath.

Brunhilde, holding his arm, was still caught up in the emotions of their recent kiss. She remembered how she had almost given in to the impulse to kiss Alex first, only to be interrupted by Göll. At the time, she thought the moment was lost, but Alex had taken the initiative himself. This stirred a confusion of emotions within her. Why had she allowed herself to be so open? Perhaps it was because Alex was always there for her, supporting her even in the most challenging times. He knew all about her plans and actions, yet he never judged her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Alex’s quiet voice. She looked at him and noticed something strange in his eyes. It was the gaze of someone recalling something deeply unpleasant. His features bore an expression of hidden irritation, as if he were contemplating something he desperately wished to avoid.

“What did you say? Why do you look so grim?” Brunhilde asked, slightly alarmed.

Alex, lost in thought, was replaying potential scenarios in his mind. His main worry was whether an avatar of an Outer God was present in this world or merely a shard of its power. The data gathered using the search module confirmed the latter was likely, though distortions rendered the information incomplete.

Among the suspects, he focused on Heimdall, Odin, and possibly Beelzebub. He viewed Loki with skepticism — the trickster was too emotional to act as a lynchpin for such serious plans. He dismissed Shiva’s pantheon as “brawlers,” and from Olympus, only Hermes seemed suspicious, acting more cunningly than the god of deception himself. But his greatest concern was Odin.

And then there was another problem: what if Beelzebub wasn’t using a fragment of the Berserker Demon’s power but rather a shard of an Outer God’s might? That could completely alter the outcome and amplify Zerofuku’s power to unprecedented levels.

“I was just thinking about unpleasant things,” Alex said, shaking his head as if to clear away unwanted thoughts.

“But your expression… it’s like you’re being forced to do something you don’t want at all,” Brunhilde remarked, pointing to the furrow in his brow.

Alex absentmindedly rubbed his forehead, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. His lazy nature reminded him once again of how much he wanted to ignore everything, lie on a couch, and do nothing. But reality didn’t allow for such luxuries.

Recent battles confirmed that the gods’ power here far surpassed their abilities in the original narrative. Their physical strength, reaction speed, and even combat movements were far more dangerous. Alex sighed again, realizing he’d have to juggle multiple tasks: finding excuses for deploying his clone, keeping an eye on Heimdall, and maintaining control of the situation.

Brunhilde observed him closely, intrigued by what could have shaken his usual demeanor so much. Alex always smiled, joked, and even got angry with a hint of sarcasm. But now, he seemed like a stranger to himself.

“I’m just tired of finishing one task only for another, equally important one, to appear right after,” Alex admitted, removing his hand from his face.

Brunhilde remained silent, but now she was deeply concerned about what weighed so heavily on his soul.

Brunhilde nodded, but Alex’s words about his unfinished business lingered in her thoughts. She fully understood that his involvement in Ragnarok had been decisive — from selecting fighters to influencing Buddha, helping him take humanity’s side.

With Alex’s arrival, her plans had become significantly simpler, and even the most complex tasks seemed achievable. Yet, true to herself, Brunhilde tried to understand what exactly drove Alex. She was haunted by the sense that every step he took was part of a carefully calculated plan.

The creation of clones, provoking the gods in the stands — it all seemed deliberate. Her suspicions were confirmed when Alex effortlessly uncovered her original scheme just by hearing a few rumors about her visit to Buddha before the assembly.

“Are you plotting something?” Brunhilde asked directly, fixing her gaze on him.

Alex raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised by her perceptiveness. In truth, he had no concrete plan; everything was adjusted on the fly, depending on the events of the day — from encounters with gods to the outcomes of battles. Alex operated blindly, relying only on rumors and intuition to adapt to the situation.

His primary goal was clear: to find the culprit behind Ragnarok and the one manipulating events from the shadows. All his actions, including provocations, were aimed at forcing the “snake in the grass” to reveal itself.

“You could say that, but I don’t have enough information yet. This whole situation with Ragnarok strikes me as too strange,” he replied, pulling a cigarette from his pocket.

Taking a drag, Alex exhaled a stream of smoke into the air. His thoughts raced with questions: why had Ragnarok begun now and not earlier? History was filled with moments that could have sparked such a war. Why had the gods waited all this time? This question bothered him most of all.

Intrigued by his words, Brunhilde tried to delve deeper into the topic. She was surprised that Alex spoke so freely about things she believed only gods understood.

“Why do you think the situation is suspicious?” she asked, frowning slightly.

“Throughout human history, there have been plenty of reasons to start Ragnarok. Take the Mesopotamian era and the legend of the King of Uruk, who nearly single-handedly ended the age of gods,” Alex replied calmly, as if citing a textbook example.

Brunhilde involuntarily glanced around to check if anyone was listening. Mentioning Mesopotamia and that particular king was somewhat taboo among the gods, as he was the first to openly rebel against them.

“Are you talking about… that king?” she asked cautiously.

“Yes, him. Doesn’t it seem to you that his actions were far more fitting to trigger Ragnarok than these absurd excuses about human vices?” Alex remarked, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

Alex’s words made Brunhilde see the situation differently. Over seven million years of humanity’s existence, countless events could have justified Ragnarok.

The gods had threatened humans time and again, flaunting their power and wrath, yet only now, after millennia, had they decided to eradicate humanity completely. She began to suspect she had missed something crucial. Unconsciously, Brunhilde started biting her nail, trying to unravel the true reason for humanity’s annihilation.

Meanwhile, Alex pondered his next steps. The simplest option was to destroy all the gods single-handedly. But that would give the “snake” an opportunity to hide, and tracking it down afterward would be much harder.

For now, he decided to send GIR to investigate and gather information on Beelzebub, perhaps even stealing all the demon’s records before he could destroy the evidence. However, Alex suspected Beelzebub had already covered his tracks.

“Enough about this. Now’s not the time or place. Whoever’s behind this will eventually leave a trace. That’s when we’ll find them,” Alex said, looking at Brunhilde.

She nodded, but a trace of unease flickered across her face. Alex’s words planted seeds of doubt in her own confidence. Perhaps something far greater than mere godly resentment lay behind this Ragnarok.

Alex sighed and reached out, gently stopping Brunhilde from continuing to bite her nail. Her habit was clearly on the verge of causing harm, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. Feeling his hand softly wrap around hers, Brunhilde flinched slightly but gradually calmed down. Yet, the question that tormented her still gnawed at her mind. She had the distinct sense that she was missing something vital.

The assembly that had preceded the start of Ragnarok had been called suddenly. Before that, the gods hadn’t gathered in such numbers for thousands of years. It seemed far from coincidental, as if someone had deliberately nudged the elder gods toward the decision to annihilate humanity.

“Do you have suspects?” Brunhilde asked, her voice cautious.

“A few candidates. What bothers me most are Odin, Beelzebub, and Hermes,” Alex replied, tossing his cigarette stub away.

Brunhilde frowned, surprised by his choices. Her thoughts raced as she tried to discern any logic in his reasoning, but she couldn’t reach the same conclusions. It frustrated her. She even found herself wishing she could peer into his mind to understand how Alex’s brain worked.

Unlike her, Alex relied on a unique blend of intuition, paranoia, and analysis, bolstered by countless rumors and observations. Even the chaos in his mind functioned as a kind of mechanism, allowing him to find connections between seemingly unrelated facts.

“Why them, specifically?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Odin acts as if his ultimate goal is humanity’s destruction, and his motives are concealed far too skillfully. Beelzebub… that demon is too absorbed in his experiments, which look highly suspicious. And Hermes?” Alex smirked. “That trickster seems more like the god of deception than Loki does.”

“How does your brain work to reach such conclusions based on scraps of information?” Brunhilde asked, unable to hide her amazement.

Her seriousness made Alex wary. She was looking at him as if she wanted to crack open his skull to understand what went on inside. No one had ever shown such interest in his inner world before. Most simply took his words at face value. But Brunhilde… she was different. Alex realized this when her gaze, full of earnest curiosity, fixed on his head.

“Don’t even think about it,” he grumbled, noticing her contemplative look. “I’ve got enough problems of my own without adding new ones.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” she replied with an innocent, almost angelic smile.

Alex frowned, his eye twitching slightly. He jabbed her nose with his finger, then turned on his heel and started walking away. Brunhilde merely smiled, quickly caught up to him, and slipped her arm through his once more.

As they approached the arena, the roar of the crowd became deafening. Stepping onto the stands, they saw Buddha standing in the arena opposite Zeus. Alex glanced over at Göll, who was visibly stunned by the scene. Beside him, GIR had already set up a massive camera and was snapping photos of the enraged gods’ faces.

Alex’s mind immediately concocted the idea of creating an album filled with their expressions, purely for the amusement of mocking it later. Hercules and Aphrodite, in particular, looked hilariously furious, their faces contorted in rage.

Odin’s face, however, drew Alex’s particular attention. His visage was shrouded in black mist, prompting Alex to grin widely. His fangs gleamed in the smile, like a vampire spotting prey.

“Göll, what did we miss?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the arena.

“Lord Buddha entered the arena and declared he would fight for humanity. Then he… um, told all the gods to go to hell. Now Lord Zeus is standing before him,” Göll quickly explained, pointing to the center of the arena.

Alex nodded, satisfied, and his smile grew even wider. He knew his game was just beginning.

He looked at Brunhilde, his gaze silently asking: is this really part of your plan? Feeling his intense stare, Brunhilde rolled her eyes and looked at him as if saying, “Didn’t you tell Buddha about my plan yourself? Of course, it’s my scheme.”

Alex sighed, accepting her silent response, and turned his gaze back to the arena, where Zeus and Buddha were already standing face to face. Zeus’s next words caused Alex to smile so widely it seemed like a gift from fate.

“You don’t see this kind of turn of events every day. Honestly, I’ve even thought about stepping into the arena again to test my strength,” Zeus said, his voice echoing across the stadium.

Buddha smiled in response, but before he could say anything, the tense silence that had settled over the human stands was suddenly broken by loud laughter. Everyone—gods and humans alike—turned toward the source of the sound. It was Alex. His loud, contagious laughter, full of sarcasm, instantly drew attention.

Zeus scowled at the laughing man, and the gods sitting in the higher tiers felt a strange unease. Even those considered the strongest sensed that there was a threat hidden in that laughter. Alex wiped away the tears from his eyes, and with unmistakable mockery, he said:

“Old fart, you sure know how to entertain.”

These words struck like thunder across the stadium. The serious tone in which Alex spoke sent shivers down the spines of even the most powerful gods. Slowly and confidently, he began descending the steps toward the arena. His steps, measured and methodical, made the hearts of the spectators stop with every move.

When Alex reached the edge of the stands, without hesitation, he jumped down, landing on the arena floor. As he approached Zeus and Buddha, he made eye contact with Buddha, who immediately understood what Alex was up to. Alex’s intervention wasn’t just a show—it was a deliberate provocation aimed at redirecting the gods’ anger onto himself.

“If you’re so eager to fight,” Alex spoke, stopping beside Zeus, “I’m always happy to join you. But don’t forget: this fight might be the last one for the chief god of Olympus.”

His words sounded like a challenge, and the tension in the air became almost palpable. Zeus, clenching his fists, suddenly changed form, transforming into his muscular state, towering over Alex. His new appearance cast a shadow over his opponent, but Alex didn’t look scared. On the contrary, he kept a cold expression that instilled both fear and awe in the spectators.

The invisible pressure coming from both of them seemed ready to tear apart the very space around them. In the waiting room, Rebecca, lying on the couch, laughed loudly and yelled for Alex to “show that old man who’s boss.” If Alex had heard her, he would have simply rolled his eyes, but right now, all his attention was focused on the provocation. He was trying to draw out the “serpent” hiding among the gods and divert their wrath onto himself.

“You’re crossing the line again, Brother of Adam,” Zeus spoke, his voice dripping with fury. “Or do you think I won’t dare to take this step?”

“Heh, you can try,” Alex smirked, contempt evident in every word. “But we don’t know who will survive this day.”

At that moment, the tension between them reached its peak. It seemed as though the fight was about to begin, but suddenly, the silence was pierced by a quiet sigh, so loud in the oppressive atmosphere that everyone heard it.

They turned in unison toward the sound and saw Odin, calmly observing them. His dark gaze was fixed on Alex. In turn, Alex began to scrutinize Odin, trying to understand what he was planning, but he refrained from using his powers, not wanting to reveal himself.

“I have a question for you, Brother of Adam,” Odin said coldly. “Are you ready to accept all the gods present here as your enemies?”

Alex met the one-eyed god’s gaze and kept his composure. Deep down, he was trying to piece together his suspicions: the black mist surrounding Odin’s face could be a result of the influence of the Outer Gods’ power. Perhaps he had become the avatar of some otherworldly entity, but Alex still leaned toward the idea that it was the influence of a fragment of an Outer God.

“You’ve asked the wrong question, one-eyed,” Alex replied, his eyes gleaming brightly, provoking those around him. “You should be asking yourself: are you ready to become my enemies? And are you ready for the genocide of gods I will unleash if you dare stand in my way?”

An invisible pressure emanated from Alex, which, like an unseen force, weighed down on the gods, awakening a primal fear within them. None of them dared meet his gaze, and the thought of standing against him seemed absurd. This fear came from the depths of their souls, responding to something ancient and incomprehensible.

Alex and Odin continued to stare at each other, as if trying to figure out who would make the next move. But soon, Alex grew bored of this silent stare-off. Their tense silence was broken by the appearance of a flying ship, majestically emerging from the clouds.

Alex shifted his gaze to the Nordic ship and immediately realized it was Odin’s doing. Narrowing his eyes, he looked at the one-eyed god with suspicion. Everything was falling into place: Odin had anticipated the course of events, knowing that Buddha might betray the gods.

It seemed he had decided to use those who hated Buddha the most—the seven gods of luck. Either Odin personally intervened or sent someone of his own. The flying ship was a clear confirmation of his involvement.

“Clever move,” Alex thought, casting one last look at the ship before turning away. Deciding that he had accomplished his goal—shifting the gods’ hatred from Buddha to himself—Alex made his way back to the stands. As he passed by Buddha, he stopped and placed his hand on his new friend’s shoulder.

“Be careful in this battle,” he said quietly.

Buddha did not turn around, his gaze fixed on the approaching ship.

“Don’t worry. In all the world, I have only myself,” Buddha replied with a wide smile.

These words brought a light smile to Alex’s face. He shook his head, noting Buddha’s carefree nature. But deep down, Alex knew that if things went too far, and Zerofuku ended up infected by a fragment of an Outer God’s power, he would forget the rules and do whatever it took.

Patting Buddha on the shoulder, he added,

“Then don’t lose. After the victory, I’ll treat you to a strawberry cake.”

Buddha snorted and turned to Alex.

“Heh, then you’re paying.”

“No problem,” Alex replied, withdrawing his hand.

Finishing the conversation, Alex made his way back to the stands. For a moment, his gaze met the eyes of Adam’s wife and children. He sighed, thinking that he would need to find time to talk to them, though he still didn’t know what to say. Nodding at them, Alex jumped onto the stands and started climbing the steps. At the top, he was greeted by Brunhilda with a frown, Göll nervously shifting from one foot to the other, and G.I.R., who had stopped taking pictures and gave him an approving thumbs-up.

“What was that all about? Why did you go out onto the arena and provoke the gods?” Brunhilda asked irritably as soon as he reached the top.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Are you serious? You literally set Buddha up, making him the enemy of all the gods. What do you think I’m doing here?”

Brunhilda was taken aback by his question. She realized her mistake. Yes, her actions had made the gods suspicious of Buddha, which could have led to a catastrophe for humanity. Now she understood that her interference was the reason Buddha had been forced to participate in this round.

Göll, who had been watching the conversation the whole time, couldn’t hold back and asked, “Brother, then why did you go down to the arena? Why did you threaten the gods?”

Alex sighed, looking at his new little sister as he replied, “Look at the gods. They used to shout and boo at Buddha, but now all their anger is directed at me. That was my goal.”

He pointed toward the stands where the gods were seated. Göll followed his gesture and saw the hateful glares they were sending Alex’s way. Frightened, she hid behind him, unable to handle the pressure.

Alex, however, ignored their gazes. His attention returned to the arena, where the seven gods of luck were already standing.

“And here they are, the gods who can turn into a megazord. I can’t wait to see this with my own eyes,” he chuckled, popping a candy into his mouth.

Alex lightly nudged G.I.R. with his foot, signaling it to record everything happening. He knew that no one would believe what they saw without proof.

Brunhilda, deep in thought, analyzed Alex’s actions, but his words about the “megazord” brought her back to reality. Göll tugged at Alex’s sleeve, peering into his face.

“Brother Alex, who is this… megazord?”

“A megazord is a big robot made from smaller ones,” Alex began to explain, stroking his chin. “Basically, when several small robots combine, they create one big, powerful one. And right now, in front of us, is a god-megazord: these gods of luck are small parts on their own, but together they form something much stronger.”

Göll listened, but the more he spoke, the more her face expressed complete confusion. Her logic was thrown off by the idea of “combining robots,” but Alex looked so pleased that she decided not to argue.

On the arena, Bishamonten shed his armor, revealing a muscular torso, while the other gods of luck began to merge with him. Alex struggled to hold back his laughter. Scenes from his childhood, from the “Mighty Morphin Power Rangers,” flashed in his mind, and what was happening on the arena looked exactly the same. With each new merge, Bishamonten’s body changed, taking on features of the god joining him. The last of the seven completed the process, and a bright light enveloped their collective silhouette.

“Here come the special effects!” Alex mumbled, watching as a glowing cocoon formed around the new being.

Cracks ran across the surface of the cocoon, and from them poured thick gray-black fog, like the breath of an ancient monster. When the smoke cleared, the true form of the gods of luck—Zerofuku—was revealed. Its appearance was terrifying: broken, unnatural limbs, a malicious smile, and insane eyes that locked onto Buddha.

“So this is the Zero they were talking about in the infirmary…” Göll muttered, leaning on the stone railing.

On the arena, Buddha stood still, calmly observing his opponent, while Zerofuku was warming up, bending his joints at impossible angles.

“See, I told you: today you’ll witness a god megazord,” Alex smirked, placing his hand on Göll’s head.

Brunhilda silently watched Alex, suspicion flashing in her eyes. She was beginning to realize that Alex had probably known from the start that Zerofuku would appear. His calmness, confidence, and strange comments only confirmed her suspicions.

“Did you know these seven gods would merge into one being?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Noticing her suspicious gaze, Alex silently poked her in the nose.

“Don’t look at me like that, Brunhilda. Your stare is making my nerves twitch.”

Göll wasn’t left behind:

“Brother Alex, so you do know who this Zerofuku is? Tell me!”

Alex slowly shifted his gaze back to the arena. He was curious to see if Buddha could save Zerofuku before he became the Demon of the Sixth Heaven, or if the situation would take an even more unexpected turn. While the silence on the arena grew, Alex decided to satisfy Göll’s curiosity.

” Zerofuku’s story is simple, though tragic. Once, he was a young god of luck, sincerely wishing to bring happiness to everyone he met. But one day, he arrived in a village where people were suffering from hunger, disease, and loss. He decided to help them by taking on their misfortunes and granting them his own luck. But…”

Göll listened, her eyes wide open, while Alex continued watching the arena, waiting for what would happen next.

As Alex began telling the story of Zerofuku, the fierce battle on the arena had already begun. Buddha and Zerofuku were exchanging powerful blows. The latter wielded a massive cleaver, looking like a weapon of death meant for destruction. Buddha, on the other hand, held a staff of six paths, symbolizing the six realms of rebirth. His movements were calm and confident, while Zerofuku swung his weapon as if possessed, lacking a clear purpose. Soon, Buddha seized the opportunity, delivering a sharp kick to Zerofuku’s chest, sending him flying backward.

“Where was I?” Alex muttered, distracted by the dramatic moment in the battle.

“You were talking about how Zerofuku absorbed the misfortunes of people,” Brunhilda calmly reminded him, never taking her eyes off the arena.

“Thanks, Bri. So,” Alex resumed, “luck and misfortune are two opposites, like light and darkness. Misfortune can be considered a curse, while luck is a blessing. Zerofuku exchanged his light for the darkness of people. The more misfortunes he absorbed, the more he lost his own essence. After he freed every villager from their hardships, he returned to his temple, torn by pain, for the misfortunes he had absorbed were eating him from the inside. But he found solace in the thought that, despite his suffering, he had done a good deed, saving those who needed it more than he did. And one day, he decided to visit the people he had helped.”

Brunhilda listened intently to Alex, wondering how he knew the story of this god. None of the contemporaries remembered Zerofuku. Records of him had been lost, and even among the gods, few mentioned his name.

Meanwhile, on the arena, Buddha attempted to reason with Zerofuku, but only fueled greater rage in his soul. Zerofuku glared at Buddha with hatred that seemed to ooze from every pore of his being. His massive cleaver began to change shape, as though it was being fueled by the fury of its owner.

“What happened next? What did he see when he returned to the village?” Göll asked with curiosity, tearing her gaze away from the battle.

Alex was about to continue, but Brunhilda unexpectedly spoke first, not letting go of his hand and keeping her eyes on the arena.

“When Zerofuku returned, he found that the people he had saved had sunk into vices. Instead of starting a new life, they spent the luck they had been granted to satisfy their base desires. The village was filled with sin: from greed to lust. No one even remembered the god who had given them salvation. Zerofuku watched as his mercy was trampled, and that was the turning point for him.”

“But why does he hate Buddha so much?” Göll asked in surprise, watching Zerofuku attack his opponent with wild fury.

“It’s simple,” Alex replied with a shrug. “Zerofuku used his power to help people, while Buddha only gave them the opportunity to help themselves. The difference is huge. When a person receives something without effort, they rarely appreciate it. Zerofuku encountered Buddha in that very village. He saw people following Buddha, poor and exhausted, yet happily smiling. Buddha explained the essence of his principles to Zerofuku, but he didn’t understand and left the village. In the end, the darkness in Zerofuku’s soul took over, transforming him from the god of luck into the god of misfortune. However, retaining some remnants of his mind, he split his essence into seven parts, creating the seven gods of luck.”

On the arena, Zerofuku continued to attack Buddha with furious swings of his massive cleaver. But Buddha easily dodged, punishing Zerofuku with precise strikes each time. Alex remembered Buddha’s ability to read his opponent’s soul, predicting their movements. This drove Zerofuku to madness, his hatred growing stronger. At one point, he struck the ground with his cleaver, causing the arena to shake. Then, kneeling down, he howled in helplessness.

However, this was only the calm before the storm. Rising with a scream, Zerofuku charged again, and his cleaver grew to terrifying proportions.

To be continued…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep