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After Saving The Universe A Thousand Times

After Saving The Universe A Thousand Times: Chapter 9

Chapter 9: All Gods’ Descent 9

Kale’s response was indeed not outside of Dong Jin’s expectations.

However, at this moment, Kale’s calm expression and steady tone did leave Dong Jin a little surprised—because Kale had almost been blown to pieces by him just moments ago.

Here’s how it went: Two hours ago, Dong Jin made two phone calls from his hotel room.

In the first call, he casually told Kale that he had set some things up in the auditorium, to serve as the prelude to their revelry. If Kale was interested, he should come witness this spontaneous opening act. 

At that time, it was a case of one daring to speak, and the other daring to accept.

The supernatural being on the other end of the line didn’t even ask a single follow-up question, simply and naturally agreeing to the invitation.

Thus, Dong Jin made his second call to Duo Ge—asking Duo Ge to plant random bombs throughout the auditorium and to lock the main doors securely from the outside.

That explained why the villains earlier couldn’t escape.

Dong Jin didn’t deny it—at the moment he had Duo Ge plant those bombs, he did entertain the idea of using the opportunity to blow Kale to smithereens.

After all, hadn’t Kale mentioned before that any behavior with a purpose couldn’t be considered art?

Well then, random bombs and random detonations perfectly fulfilled Kale’s definition of art—how fitting it would be to use them to send Kale off.

Dong Jin had never been one to shy away from action, so once the thought arose, he really went ahead with it.

When he used the “Eye of Truth” to discover a bomb planted right next to the piano, Dong Jin didn’t hesitate for a second before pressing the detonator.

The good news was that, out of the four times he pressed the button, one of them did indeed trigger the bomb beside the piano.

The bad news was that the bomb’s power was rather mediocre, and Kale had been sitting further back, so the explosion only blew away the villain who had pulled open the curtain on the left front side of the piano. Kale, on the other hand, ended up with just a few bloodstains on his suit jacket.

And those few splashes of blood hadn’t even stained Dong Jin as much as they had.

Dong Jin didn’t feel much regret over it—he hadn’t really expected the strongest of the supernatural beings to be taken out by a mere bomb.

But leaving aside the failed attempt at killing him, was Kale’s current attitude a little off?

After all, even though the bomb had exploded right next to him, and Kale might have accepted Dong Jin’s earlier explanation of revelry, surely he wouldn’t be so completely unbothered by the four consecutive blasts today, right?

Could it be that love-struck minds really work like this? Or maybe this guy is just biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to take me out with one swift move—like snapping my neck as soon as he gets close, letting me taste the flavor of death myself?

Thinking along these lines, Dong Jin casually leaned against the piano stand, lifted his umbrella, and lightly tapped the blood-stained collar of Kale’s suit with the tip of it, saying, “What a pity, I really did like this suit on you.”

On the surface, Dong Jin was commenting on Kale’s blood-stained suit, but in reality, he was using the umbrella to stop Kale from advancing further.

Kale didn’t seem to notice this.

He didn’t even glance down at his own collar, following the tip of the umbrella. Instead, his gaze trailed up along the black shaft of the umbrella, finally landing on Dong Jin’s sleeve, which was also soaked in crimson beneath his black suit.

If Kale, standing behind the piano, had been splattered with just a bit of blood, Dong Jin, who had been standing in front of the piano, was practically drenched in it.

The amount of blood on Dong Jin’s soaked suit jacket and the half-dyed white shirt underneath gave a clear indication of how much blood a person could lose.

Seeing that Kale had stopped moving forward but wasn’t saying anything, Dong Jin sighed. He raised both hands in a mock gesture of surrender and said, “Not even angry, huh? You’re even more boring than I thought.”

With this gesture, the umbrella that had been holding Kale back moved aside.

Kale resumed walking forward. Only when he was a step away from Dong Jin did he stop, his golden eyes lowered, staring at Dong Jin as if delivering an explanation or a declaration: 

“I won’t be angry. How could I ever be angry about death?”

“Dying in pursuit of pleasure would only bring me satisfaction.”

These two simple statements sent a shiver down Dong Jin’s spine, making his scalp tingle.

He had been wrong, wrong from the very beginning—Kale had never been some love-struck fool. From start to finish, Kale had simply been in pure pursuit of pleasure.

This supernatural being was like a martyr, born to experience and die for pleasure.

If something like love could make him feel free and happy, Kale would willingly abandon all reason, turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to everything, becoming the most blindly devoted lover in the entire instance.

How could this be a lack of intelligence? Kale had always been too clever.

This beast-like instinctual approach was far more terrifying than a simple love-struck mind.

If, at any moment, the thrill Kale was feeling—the thrill like a rope pulling him toward the edge of a cliff—were to vanish, Dong Jin had no doubt that the next second would be the moment of his own death.

Because this was, by its very nature, a fleeting, mad love.

As Kale and Dong Jin stood there silently staring at each other, the villains, who had been stunned by the sudden explosions, finally regained their senses.

The exchange that had just occurred from the front of the hall made it clear to them that the mastermind behind all of today’s chaos was none other than the bandaged-eyed lunatic.

In the face of extreme danger, some of the villains no longer cared about whether Kale was a supernatural being or not. Even though Dong Jin was emanating a powerful, oppressive aura, three of them still banded together and charged forward, demanding, “What the hell are you trying to do?!”

Dong Jin, hearing this, broke off his stare with Kale and turned around with a casual smile, saying, “No need to be so serious. I was just playing a joke on you all.”

—A lethal joke, at that.

After uttering those chilling words, Dong Jin feigned confusion and continued, “So, why aren’t you laughing?”

At this, one of the villains—a serial killer driven to madness—immediately pulled out a short knife and slashed at him. The two death row inmates following behind him clenched their guns but hesitated to aim for now.

Dodging the knife with ease, Dong Jin smiled at the three of them, saying, “Why get so worked up? If you don’t like that joke, I’ll tell you another one.”

“Let me think… Oh, I’ve got it.”

“Around two years ago, I suddenly felt like visiting a certain planet. So, I made a point of sending an advance notice to that planet’s leader.”

“The planet was a bit far, took four days of non-stop flying to get there. On the first day aboard the spaceship, this was the headline from that planet’s news—” As Dong Jin spoke slowly, the enraged killer slashed three more times, interrupting his flow.

At this point, Dong Jin seemed a bit impatient. He stopped dodging, stood still, calmly raised the umbrella again, and lightly brushed his bandage-covered eye.

In the next instant, the seemingly blunt tip of the umbrella shot forward at an unimaginable speed and at an angle beyond comprehension, effortlessly piercing the assailant’s throat.

“On the first day, the headline said, ‘A monster from the depths of space has set sail from the Eastern Domain.’”①

As these words fell, Dong Jin swiftly withdrew the black umbrella, and the blood spurting from the villain’s throat soaked his already drenched black suit even more.

The death row convict standing on the left was triggered by this scene, reflexively firing a shot at Dong Jin.

But Dong Jin, simply tilting his head to avoid the bullet, continued with his story, still smiling, “Then, on the second day aboard the spaceship, I checked the news again, and the headline had changed. It said—”

As his voice lingered in the air, the heart of the shooter was impaled by the same umbrella tip.

“It said, ‘The greedy and cunning demon lord is closing in on us.’”②

The other convict, who had witnessed everything, was already terrified. But knowing he was in too deep, he went all out, firing three shots in quick succession before turning to flee without even checking if he hit the target.

But no matter how fast he ran, Dong Jin’s voice followed him like a shadow, “By the third day, the spaceship was halfway there. The headline changed for a third time.”

In an instant, the fleeing convict was struck three times—once in his shooting hand, once in his running leg, and finally, fatally, in his temple. As consciousness faded, the last thing he heard was the continuation of the inescapable joke:

“It became—‘The esteemed Mr. Dong Jin is about to arrive.’”③

In his final second, his last thought was: Who wouldn’t respect a lunatic like this?

With the third spray of blood, even Dong Jin’s once clean left sleeve was soaked, not to mention his suit jacket, which was still dripping blood.

Now, even though Dong Jin wasn’t particularly fussy about cleanliness, he couldn’t stand the extreme dampness and stench clinging to his jacket and vest.

While taking off his jacket and vest and shaking the blood off the umbrella tip, he cursed the three dead men for wasting three minutes of his life.

If it weren’t for wanting to craft a more laid-back and dangerous image, Dong Jin wouldn’t have sacrificed his lifespan to see through their weaknesses. With their pitiful skill level, he thought three seconds, let alone three minutes, was already a loss.

At least the lifespan wasn’t wasted.

At the very least, after that round of strikes, most of the defiant glares in the hall had turned into unprecedented fear and awe.

As Dong Jin brushed back his blood-soaked hair and looked down at the hall, silence reigned wherever his gaze landed.

Suddenly, feeling intrigued by the joke he hadn’t finished, he asked aloud, “Here’s a trivia question. On the fourth day, I finally arrived at the planet. Does anyone know what the headline was that day?”

The one who answered him was Duo Ge, who had been standing at the foot of the hall stairs ever since opening the locked door:

“I’m guessing it said, ‘Welcome, the great Lord Dong Jin, to this place.’”④

In response, Dong Jin’s reply was a burst of enthusiastic applause. After clapping, he slowly turned to the side, revealing once again that bloody smile that would haunt these villains for the rest of their lives, as he said:

“My joke’s over. Wasn’t it funny?”

Who the hell wouldn’t laugh? If you didn’t laugh, would he blow something up again or start another one-sided massacre?

With this unprecedented understanding, the moment Dong Jin finished speaking, awkward and forced smiles appeared simultaneously on everyone’s faces in the hall.

Seeing this, Dong Jin finally nodded in satisfaction.

At that moment, Duo Ge, who had witnessed everything, suppressed the shivers in his heart and walked toward Dong Jin, preparing to report the status of the remaining bombs.

At the same time, the long-silent Kale suddenly moved.

In the next second, a suit jacket, carrying the scent of strong liquor, was draped over Dong Jin’s shoulders.

Dong Jin didn’t even need to lower his eyes to look at the distinctive red-and-gold patchwork design. The deep, subtle aroma, like aged wine freshly uncorked, silently informed him whose jacket this was.

He had just casually mentioned liking Kale’s jacket earlier, and now Kale actually brought it to him? 

What, did Kale think Dong Jin, even as a special being, would catch a cold?

At that moment, Dong Jin couldn’t even be bothered to refuse.

He knew that with a creature like Kale, who followed his instincts, the more he rejected, the more counterproductive it would be. So, he simply instructed Duo Ge, who had already approached:

“Go ahead and dismantle the remaining bombs. After all, I really was just trying to make a joke and say hello, not take anyone’s life here.”

Even Duo Ge, who had been tamed into a loyal dog, couldn’t help but twitch his lips upon hearing this.

He had planted the bombs himself, and he knew exactly how powerful they were. The continuous wails he had heard from outside the door had already given him a glimpse of the horrific scene inside the hall.

No matter how outrageous a being might be, no one casually uses lives as a greeting.

As for the “joke”… Duo Ge glanced at the three fresh corpses lying in the hall, feeling a chill in his heart.

Luckily, he was considered one of their own. Otherwise, today, he’d likely have ended up either blown to pieces by the bombs or impaled by an umbrella tip.

In any case, he wouldn’t have escaped death.

As Duo Ge obediently went to dismantle the bombs under the hateful gazes of the others, he failed to notice that Kale, standing beside Dong Jin, was also watching him.

Kale’s unreadable gaze drifted slightly from Duo Ge’s somewhat handsome face under the hood, then fleetingly swept across his throat.

Clearly, Duo Ge didn’t realize that sometimes being “one of their own” didn’t guarantee absolute safety.

In fact, it was often because you were “one of their own” that made it even more dangerous.

And the reward for Dong Jin’s earlier “trivia question” might very well be the chance for Duo Ge to lose his life.

The author has something to say:

①②③④ are adapted from the anecdotes about Napoleon’s march into Paris. During that time, a newspaper in Paris changed its headline six times in a matter of days, showing a stark contrast in attitude. 

While writing this chapter, I kept envisioning the Joker for some reason; he truly is a classic villain in my heart. 

TN:

The headlines were from the newspaper “Le Moniteur Universe”. Found this image on Reddit. There is a thread debunking this as propaganda fabrications by Alexandre Dumas. From what I found, apparently Gazette nationale ou le Moniteur universel was set as the official journal of the French Republic. As the official mouthpiece of the Napoleonic state from 1799 to 1815, Le Moniteur was used as a tool of propaganda to prepare public opinion for significant and sensitive changes in state policy. 

From ChatGpt take with a grain of salt:

March 10, 1815:

“The Corsican Ogre has landed at Cape Juan.”

March 11, 1815:

“The Tiger has shown himself at Gap. The troops are advancing from all sides to arrest his progress. He will end his miserable adventure by becoming a wanderer in the mountains.”

March 12, 1815:

“The Monster has actually advanced as far as Grenoble.”

March 13, 1815:

“The Tyrant is now at Lyon. Fear and dismay prevail in all hearts.”

March 18, 1815:

“The Usurper has ventured to approach within 60 hours’ march of the capital.”

March 19, 1815:

“Bonaparte is advancing by forced marches, but it is impossible he can reach Paris.”

March 20, 1815:

“Napoleon will be under our ramparts tomorrow.”

March 21, 1815:

“The Emperor is at Fontainebleau.”

March 22, 1815:

“His Imperial and Royal Majesty entered his faithful city of Paris yesterday, amidst the joyful acclamations of his devoted and loving subjects.”

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