Zavry had a reason for killing that god, but who knew that his voice would be the price for his actions and not just that he’d be made to suffer.

He knew no one would believe that a weak boy was the one who did it—and he liked it that way. The world had gone berserk the day it became known that one of the gods had been killed. And the identity of the killer became a mystery, a history lost to the unknown.

He was the reason for the apocalypse centuries ago. Killing that god had thrown the other gods into chaos, sparking a war among them. None of them could trust their own anymore, so Zavry was cursed. Reincarnation had been his only escape, or perhaps his greatest punishment.

Even though that memory now felt distant, it was still dangerous. In this world, the truth of the apocalypse had faded into history, and no one knew who had truly caused it. But if anyone ever uncovered his involvement, he would face consequences far worse than death. He wouldn’t simply be tortured; he would be captured, broken, and forced through a possession ritual meant to strip him of his identity.

And if he somehow survived the trial, he would not return as the same person. He would be reborn. That was why the leader of the gods—the supreme god Sid—decided to punish the young god Zavry after the killing, conceal the truth, and curse him in silence.

In the modern age, Zavry appeared weak…or at least, that was what the people around him believed. Anyone would think so at first glance.

But then, why was he still reminiscing? dragging his suffering, and something far worse, back into the world with him.

He shut the book calmly as Rune, his mind-plant, spoke.

"You will need to kill the Prince of Heer."

"Shut up. I know that," Zavry responded irritably in his head. He had thought he'd already put Rune to sleep…but it all seemed like he was awake now.

Rune was a mind-plant in Zavry's head, helping him calculate which high-ranking people he needed to kill. The higher the rank of those he killed, the higher his chance of breaking the orb and getting his voice back.

The Wrathful God Sid was the one who had cursed him, sealing Zavry’s voice within him, trapped inside the orb.

He was once a great god—one no soul could defeat. But now, to reclaim his voice and return to his status as a god, Zavry is forced to travel across different worlds, killing designated targets one by one. But things only grew worse. The longer he delayed, the stronger both his targets and the orb became.

"Bro, this is not going to be easy. I'm telling you that god just wants you to waste your time. You should live a normal life instead of spending your years killing and killing and gaining nothi—"

"Shut the fuck up, Rune. Unless you want me to put you to sleep again." That finally silenced Rune.

After arriving in this world, the only guide he had been given was a mind-plant—something he had initially assumed was merely a tool. Now, however, it seemed to be the one guiding him instead. Through it, he appeared to have control over Rune, able to issue commands and influence actions as needed.

Most of the time, he was the one who pushed through past missions on his own, while the mind-plant only made matters worse, interfering more than it helped.

Zavry then asked, as his eyes scanned the room before landing on a lit candlelight.

"How many men have I killed so far?"

"Ten," Rune replied reluctantly, but there was a smile forming on Zavry's lips.

"And how many are left?"

'If I were to calculate it all, it'd take a while, but let's estimate…You need to kill three thousand and five...' He paused, then added,“…billions of people from different worlds and universes. Not just anyone—the high ranks. I’m telling you, you’ll die before you even reach a thousand. That’s unrealistic, and if I’m being honest, it’s impossible. Unless, of course, you want me to lie to you… and I simply tell you what you want to hear.”

Zavry's lips moved as he began to form a chant, even though no words came out. That meant one thing…

'P…Please, I won't speak again unless you ask. Don't put me to sleep.'

The problem was this: Zavry could put Rune to sleep, but if Rune slept while Zavry remained awake, he would be trapped in nightmares within the dream world. And that was something Rune wanted to avoid. Nightmares caused him pain—and mind-plants weren’t supposed to feel pain.

So the only time Rune could sleep safely was when Zavry was also asleep. Otherwise, if Zavry was awake and forced him into sleep, the nightmares would begin. That was why Rune did his best to avoid it—staying obedient, not angering Zavry, and following his orders carefully.

“Good. What rank is the prince of Heer?” he asked Rune, referring to the place he was about to go.

“He’s a B-rank,” Rune answered. The targets were classified by rank, a system used to help Zavry determine how prepared he needed to be. That was why he asked. If a target had no rank, it meant they were something entirely different.

Zavry nodded. “Let’s see how this goes.”

He lifted two fingers and traced “SMS” in the air. The space before him rippled as a portal tore open, its edges flickering with a faint, unstable glow.

He stepped into it silently. The moment he entered, the portal closed behind him. He walked through the long path ahead of him. At the end was a door that would lead him to the other side. The risk of this portal was deadly—any misstep, if you strayed from the straight tile leading to the door, you'd be swallowed by the darkness…or wiped into extinction.

"You see? This is so risky. Just imagine dying here. Bro, I am telling you, use this opportunity to live your life. You are…"

Zavry moved his lips quickly, and before Rune could finish speaking, he was already asleep.

Zavry had put him to sleep.

"Better. I don't want stupid noises," Zavry muttered in his head as he continued walking. When he reached the door to the next world, he opened his palm, revealing a key. He slid it into the lock and slowly opened the door, stepping out of the portal.

As usual, he appeared at the edge of a busy street—the area where trash was routinely dumped and left to rot. The stench of decaying food and damp waste hung heavy in the air, blending with the distant voices and rushing footsteps. It was the perfect place to conceal a portal, unnoticed among filth and noise.

A stray cat lingered nearby, sniffing at the spot where the portal had formed, its fur thin and dusty under the streetlights. After a moment, it turned away and continued eating from the scattered trash as if nothing had changed.

"Rune, where are we…."

Fucking…fuck..fuck

Zavry cursed as he realized he had put Rune to sleep. That rash decision had left him stranded. Rune was meant to be his guide, and now he had effectively disabled the only one who could navigate this world for him.

He did not know this place. His powers were limited, as expected, and he could not simply wake Rune at will; he could only put him to sleepl.

He stepped out of the trash site, wincing at the foul stench that clung to the air and his senses, silently cursing himself for his poor decision.

He walked out to the street and realized it was nighttime here. The wind blew softly, and the streets sparkled with lights.

Fucking hell.

He knew he'd messed up. With Rune asleep, he had no idea where the castle was. He couldn't ask for directions, either—would these people even understand sign language? And in this place, paper and pen would be a luxury. He could tell, given the people's manner of dress.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he smacked his forehead for his impulsiveness. He walked farther, passing some merchants selling their goods at tables. The smell of sweet corn and grilled chicken wafted to his nose. He followed the scent and found a man selling them.

Hunger overcame his thoughts as he decided that he would continue his mission after eating.

He had no money. But judging from the place, the meal would probably be as cheap as a penny.

His stomach growled more. Those noodles he ate earlier had done nothing for him. He sighed. Maybe he could beg… But how?

Still, he decided to try. He approached quietly, heading toward the butcher. The man was cutting meat harshly.

“RUMMMBLE”

Zavry's stomach growled again. He tried to calm it down as he stepped closer. The man looked up.

"What do you want?" the man asked firmly, his face neutral.

Zavry pointed to the smallest portion of roasted corn and meat, hoping the man would find a place in his heart to give it to him...for free.

But the man simply said, "That would be a penny," and then he began wrapping it without even confirming if Zavry would buy it or not.

Zavry scratched the back of his head. How was he going to explain that he had no money?

He tried to sign, but the man only raised a brow.

"Your hand is hurting? There's a local physician in the small hut over there. " The man pointed to the hut with a wide smile, completely misunderstanding the sign language—just as Zavry had guessed.

Zavry also guessed that the reason for the man’s sudden smile was that he thought he would be buying the corn and meat.

The man handed Zavry the wrapped packet of food. Zavry took it with a deep bow, and just as he turned to leave…

"Heeeyyy!! Where do you think you're going?" the man called out, staring at the boy who was about to walk away.

Zavry turned back, realizing the man's shout had made several people glance their way—exactly the kind of attention he was trying to avoid.

He shook his head, trying to tell the man he had no money on him.

That turned out to be the worst idea ever.

"Thief! Thief!"

The man yelled so loudly that Zavry's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets in shock. He didn't even know what to say.

He hadn't expected things to escalate this quickly.

And now, eyes began to shift toward him as the man continued yelling. More people began to gather around—and no, this was not what he wanted. He did not want attention. Not to mention, he knew this world was similar to the last one he had visited—and here, the punishment for stealing was death.