Demeter stood frozen, seemingly drained of all strength.
Her back pressed against the wall, and her fingertips had turned pale.
Her amber eyes had lost their usual liveliness and cunning, replaced by an emptiness and confusion unlike anything she had ever experienced.
She was a goddess who had lived for hundreds of millions of years and witnessed the births, aging, sickness, and deaths of countless mortals.
Demeter thought she had already seen everything capable of surprising her.
She believed her heart, long detached from mortal concerns, could no longer be shaken.
Yet Genichi’s casual words cut through everything she believed, slowly slicing apart the shell of certainty she had always considered unbreakable.
Her world, the city she protected, the members of her Familia she cherished, and even Demeter herself might be nothing more than a story written in some distant world.
The past she took pride in, the memories that had made her laugh or cry, and every day she had spent with her Familia—could they all be nothing more than lines of text and frames of animation?
If that were true, what meaning did her existence have?
Had every joy and sorrow, every decision, and every emotion she had ever experienced been arranged by some unseen author?
Demeter’s fingers trembled.
Her breathing grew rapid and uneven, while an invisible weight pressed against her chest until she could barely breathe.
At that moment, a hand suddenly reached out and pinched her cheek.
The touch was warm and undeniably real, carrying an almost offensively casual familiarity.
Demeter snapped back to her senses and found Genichi’s irritating face directly before her.
He wore a wicked grin as he gently kneaded her cheek between his fingers like soft dough.
“Goddess, you haven’t broken down because you can’t accept reality, have you?
If you have, why not let me take advantage while you’re still warm?
I’ve always wanted to know what a goddess tastes like.”
His tone was shamelessly playful, his eyes carrying deliberate provocation.
It was as if their heavy conversation about the world being nothing more than a story had never happened.
Demeter froze for a moment before anger erupted within her, instantly scattering the fear and confusion that had filled her mind.
‘This bastard!
How can he still think about taking advantage of me at a time like this?!’
“Bam!”
Her fist slammed squarely into Genichi’s stomach.
It was far harder than any previous blow, carrying raw strength that remained formidable even with her divine power sealed.
“Agh!”
Genichi folded like a cooked shrimp and staggered back two steps, clutching his stomach as cold sweat instantly broke out across his forehead.
“Goddess, that was a little too hard!”
He grimaced as he protested, his voice rising an octave.
“I’m a member of your Familia!
Is this how you treat your own follower?
If you break me, who’s going to take you to another world?”
“That was your punishment for running your mouth!”
Demeter glared at him.
The light had returned to her amber eyes, mixed with embarrassed fury, but at least the painful emptiness and confusion were gone.
She drew a deep breath as though expelling every chaotic thought from her chest.
Then she slowly straightened her back, recovering her usual dignity and composure.
Once she had truly calmed down, however, a far more serious thought quickly occupied her mind.
Her gaze sharpened as she stared at Genichi, who was still rubbing his stomach and grimacing.
“You told me all this without showing the slightest concern.
Does that mean you can already leave this world?”
As a goddess who had lived for hundreds of millions of years, Demeter possessed wisdom far beyond that of any mortal.
She understood the implications immediately.
If Genichi dared reveal a secret as world-shattering as their reality being a story, he likely possessed a means of withdrawing whenever he wished.
If he still depended on her or this world, he would never have laid his cards on the table so carelessly.
There was only one explanation: he already had an escape route.
“Take a guess!”
Genichi looked up, his usual playful grin returning.
He did not answer directly, but those two words carried casual certainty, as though the subject were completely unimportant.
Demeter’s heart sank.
She stared into his smiling eyes, searching desperately for the slightest trace of a lie.
Yet she found nothing.
His gaze was clear and open, without the faintest hint of guilt or evasion.
He truly did not care.
He did not care about this world’s fate, what she thought of him, or whether she exposed his secrets.
That was because he could leave whenever he wanted.
The Transmigration Gate—the doorway capable of crossing between worlds—had most likely reopened.
Demeter suddenly felt a crushing sense of helplessness.
All her previous efforts now seemed like a laughable one-woman performance.
Genichi was like a bird that had already found the cage’s exit.
He patiently watched the people outside try to entertain him while quietly deciding when to spread his wings and fly away.
“You still can’t leave yet, can you?”
Demeter suddenly spoke, her voice carrying both suspicion and calm analysis.
She reorganized her thoughts as the sharp insight of a goddess returned to her amber eyes.
“If you could truly leave whenever you wanted, you wouldn’t need to tell me any of this.
You could simply wait for the Transmigration Gate to open, slip through without a word, and disappear.”
“Why bother laying your cards on the table?”
She paused and stepped closer, fixing Genichi with an intense stare.
“The fact that you told me proves you still can’t leave.
Or rather, the Transmigration Gate hasn’t completely finished cooling down.”
“You’re warning me in advance so I’ll be mentally prepared when the time comes.
Isn’t that right?”
Genichi’s playful expression stiffened almost imperceptibly.
It lasted less than a second, but Demeter had been watching his face so intently that she caught every trace of the change.
“I knew it.”
A smug smile appeared on Demeter’s lips.
“You slippery little brat.
You almost fooled me.”
Genichi sighed and rubbed his still-aching stomach.
His forced composure finally collapsed, replaced by helpless resignation.
“Fine, you caught me.
The Transmigration Gate really hasn’t finished cooling down yet.”
…