More than ten years passed.
Since Li Xiang began experiencing Gilgamesh’s Personality, over a decade of autumns and springs had unfolded within this timeline.
He had grown from a young child into a tall, well-built youth with perfectly balanced musculature.
Throughout this lengthy process, Li Xiang—or rather, Gilgamesh—had discovered a few peculiarities.
Initially, the system had told him that to fully unlock this root-level Personality, he had to completely simulate the character’s established story—the destined path of Gilgamesh recorded in ancient epics.
This included ascending the throne as a king, meeting Enkidu, searching for the herb of immortality, and ultimately having it stolen by a snake.
Simultaneously, the system had warned him of the severe danger of his own will being completely overwritten by the Personality.
In theory, this should have been like putting on a holographic VR headset to passively experience a movie with a pre-written script.
Yet, Li Xiang discovered that something had gone completely askew.
The system seemed to have…
glitched.
When he experienced this Personality, he wasn’t forced to follow a script or merely spectate the original Gilgamesh’s emotions and decisions.
Instead, this world was manifesting a reality completely shaped by his own individual will.
If a person possessing Li Xiang’s soul, Li Xiang’s values, and Li Xiang’s memories of a past life were granted this perfect demigod body and placed upon the throne of Uruk…
what would he do?
Thus, the current Li Xiang—or Gilgamesh—wasn’t watching someone else’s pre-written story.
It was more accurate to say he had initiated an entirely different, deeply immersive life.
Counting it up, this could practically be considered his third life, couldn’t it?
“Seriously, this garbage system.
Flubbing the job on its very first run.”
Gilgamesh had complained about the unreliable system in his heart more than once.
However, instead of feeling any panic, he immensely—and thoroughly—enjoyed this glitched existence.
The primary reason was that this life was simply too comfortable, too captivating.
He possessed a brand-new, entirely pristine body.
Because it was a perfect crystallization crafted by the gods, this vessel was impossibly strong, appearing completely immune to fatigue.
Every single muscle fiber contained a terrifying, mountain-lifting strength.
Because his mind had long since matured, Gilgamesh began engaging with and managing the city-state’s governance from a very young age.
He organized the administration flawlessly, turning the Uruk that should have been ravaged by a tyrant into a highly orderly and prosperous society.
Furthermore, because he retained modern values and the fulfillment of a past life lived without regrets, Gilgamesh wasn’t corrupted by the arrogant divinity latent within his blood.
He didn’t turn into a high-and-mighty tyrant who viewed all of creation as his personal property like the original Gilgamesh.
His attitude toward others was incredibly easygoing.
Consequently, to the people of Uruk, their ruler remained a deeply beloved, highly practical, and wise king.
However…
this wise king still possessed a particular habit that gave everyone a massive headache.
At that moment, within the magnificent central temple of Uruk.
Several ministers stood before the ornate throne crafted from gold and lapis lazuli, cradling thick stacks of cuneiform clay tablets.
Yet, the ruler who was supposed to be seated there reviewing the documents was nowhere to be seen.
The head minister let out a long, heavy sigh, speaking with utter helplessness:
“Alas…
has the King gone out to fight again?”
Beside him, a younger scribe offered a bitter smile and nodded.
“Yes.
He finished reviewing the blueprints for the aqueduct channel early this morning.
Without even stopping for breakfast, he grabbed those two massive iron greatswords he forged himself, claiming he was heading to the miasma-shrouded forest in the west for some light morning exercise.
Who knows what terrifying entity he’s locked in combat with this time.”
“This is already the seventh time this month…” The elder minister massaged his aching temples.
“While it’s true the King manages state affairs to absolute perfection, what kind of national ruler dives into primeval forests and monster nests every other day?
What if he ends up getting injured…”
“You shouldn’t worry about that, Minister.
Compared to the King getting hurt, I feel much more pity for the magical beasts,” the young scribe muttered under his breath.
Indeed, this was the root of the ministers’ daily headaches regarding Gilgamesh.
Because this body was simply too magnificent to use, the intense desire for a fresh, expansive life that had been bottled up during his previous existence—where he was confined to a hospital bed—erupted like a volcano.
Therefore, while he never oppressed his people and governed Uruk with incredible efficiency as a wise king, the moment his official duties were complete, he would immediately slip away on the spot.
He wouldn’t lounge around enjoying luxuries in silk-lined bedchambers, nor would he sit through lengthy hymns of praise.
He would venture into god-knows-what uncharted, desolate territories to explore, actively seeking out the powerful magical beasts roaming the Age of Gods—creatures so troublesome that even the deities found them vexing—to engage in brutal combat.
He wouldn’t return until he had fought to his heart’s content, often arriving back drenched in sweat after several days.
Meanwhile, along the main avenue inside Uruk’s grand gates, thunderous cheers and gasps of awe erupted in waves.
Gilgamesh was walking proudly along the wide stone path.
Trailed behind him, secured by massive iron chains, was a terrifying magical beast the size of a small hill, boasting three hideous heads and covered entirely in pitch-black scales!
This catastrophic beast, rumored to be capable of swallowing an entire army whole, was currently being dragged single-handedly by Li Xiang like a discarded sack of rags, leaving a deep trench along the stone pavement.
Its massive, lifeless carcass served as the King’s proudest trophy, brought back to the city for everyone to marvel at.
“Ohhh!
Look, everyone!
It’s the King!
The King has brought back another hunt!”
“Heavens, is that the legendary Three-Headed Venomous Lizard that plagued the stagnant marshes?
To think it was this massive!
The King is truly invincible!”
The citizens lining the streets weren’t frightened by the gruesome carcass; instead, they flooded the thoroughfare, unleashing deafening cheers as if welcoming home a conquering hero.
The children followed excitedly behind Li Xiang, eagerly reaching out to touch the beast’s cold scales.
This was already his god-knows-how-many-th excursion this year.
And nearly every time he ventured out, he would bring back some rare treasure that shook the entire Mesopotamian plain—whether it was a vein of mana-infused gemstones or ancient armaments excavated from a forgotten ruin, bringing them back to Uruk just to give his people a spectacular show.
If he failed to unearth any rare treasures, he would do what he did today: single-handedly crush a powerful predator terrorizing the nearby regions and drag its massive remains back to serve as entertainment for his subjects’ leisure hours.
Walking down the bustling street, feeling the boundless, vibrant strength still coursing through his veins, the smile on Gilgamesh’s face became incredibly pure.
For someone who had finally obtained such a perfect, robust body free from the shackles of illness, it would be an absolute waste if he spent his days confined to a single spot like his past life—even if that spot was a magnificent palace, even if it meant burying himself in mountains of clay tablets to manage state affairs, or staying inside ornate rooms to gracefully compose poetry and listen to music.
That would be a literal desecration of life!
Armed with such an incredible vessel, one had to go outside!
One had to map out this expansive world, venturing into all sorts of dangerous and mysterious territories to explore!
One had to engage in raw, bone-crushing brawls against flame-spewing dragons, abyss-dwelling beasts, and all manners of arrogant, powerful existences!
This was the ultimate life devoid of a single regret that he, Gilgamesh, looked forward to living!