A Selfish Reason, A Grim Revival

“Boss, are you busy? Am I disturbing you?”

“I am indeed busy, but I could hardly ignore my chosen one, could I? Besides, assisting my chosen one is as vital a task as any work; how could that ever be considered a disturbance?”

‘See? Even among bosses, there are differences,’ Yodel thought, feeling a wave of both gratitude and guilt wash over him at her words.

“Actually, it’s nothing much, just a few questions I hoped to ask you.”

“Ask.”

“I’ve heard people in the mortal realm say that the God of Death doesn’t exist, and even if they did, they would have no followers. Some even claim you are an evil deity.”

“Did you believe them?”

“Never! How could you possibly be an evil deity?”

Yodel immediately denied it, a fresh wave of guilt rising within him. ‘How could I possibly utter such words in her presence?’ he chastised himself. ‘Even if I don’t believe these rumors are true in my heart, that doesn’t mean the God of Death wouldn’t be hurt by hearing them.’

Yodel dared not lift his gaze to observe her reaction, wishing he could bury his head in the ground. He found himself utterly at a loss for how to continue speaking.

It was the God of Death who broke the silence instead. She descended from her throne and walked towards Yodel, her footsteps echoing through the vast, empty hall.

“They are mistaken. I am not without followers.”

A pair of hands, cool yet soft, cupped Yodel’s face, gently lifting his head.

This compelled Yodel to look at the God of Death. To his surprise, there was not a trace of anger, disappointment, or sadness on her face.

“They are mistaken. I am not without followers.”

“I have you.”

Yodel felt his heart skip a beat, then begin to pound at a frantic pace, as if trying to compensate for the momentary pause.

“Yodel Finn, my only follower, my sole chosen one, do you truly believe I am an evil deity?”

Had his face not been cradled by the God of Death, he would have been shaking his head vehemently by now.

Yet, he realized he didn’t need to answer at all, for the God of Death seemed to already know his response.

“Thank you for believing in me, through and through. What Yelica said isn’t entirely without merit, you know. It would be perfectly normal even if you truly doubted me, and I wouldn’t be angry. At most… a little sad?”

Yodel felt an even stronger conviction that there was something profoundly amiss with the God of Death’s affection level; it far exceeded his estimations, much like Yali’s. ‘But what could possibly be the reason behind it?’ he wondered.

The God of Death remained in a posture that suggested she was about to kiss him, seemingly with no intention of moving until she had finished speaking.

She chuckled, a hint of self-deprecation in her smile:

“It is I who should apologize. I lied to you, in truth, and your doubt would be entirely justified.”

“Do you remember our first meeting? I told you that many people begged to be my chosen ones, and I still refused them. That was a lie. I don’t even have followers, and my very existence isn’t believed in. Where would I find people begging me? It was I who decided from the very beginning that you would be my chosen one.”

“The reason I said those things was to keep you here, to make you my chosen one, to grant you the abilities of the God of Death—all for this singular purpose. Giving you tasks, telling you to ‘work for me,’ was merely an excuse to bestow more rewards upon you, to make you more willing to remain by my side.”

“Now that you know all this, are you still willing to believe in me?”

Yodel nodded without a moment’s hesitation:

“Even if you lied, having spent this time with you, I have been the complete beneficiary. You resurrected me, and you’ve continually given me all sorts of rewards. What reason could I possibly have to blame you?”

“It’s just…” Yodel hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to voice his question: “Why did you choose me? I’m just an ordinary person; my previous life was lived in a muddle, and I accomplished nothing noteworthy even until my death. There are millions of people like me. Why me?”

“It was a very selfish reason…” the God of Death whispered softly.

She buried Yodel’s head against her chest. “Yodel, perhaps to yourself, you are merely one ordinary life among countless others, but to me, you are unique. That is all you need to know.”

Feeling the soft, smooth touch against his face, Yodel nodded gently.

“All right. If there’s anything I can do to help you, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I know it sounds ridiculous for a mortal to offer help to a deity, but even if I can only alleviate a tiny bit of your burden, I still wish to assist you.”

“Are you really so eager to work? Hehe, don’t worry, once you’ve grown stronger, I’ll definitely squeeze every last drop out of you!”

The sentimental atmosphere was instantly shattered by her playful laugh. Yodel looked up, catching sight of the God of Death’s mischievously wicked grin.

He felt a retort caught in his throat, unable to be uttered, causing him immense discomfort.

However, when he saw that the God of Death’s weariness had noticeably lessened with that single smile, he felt a sense of relief. ‘After all,’ he thought, ‘sharing psychological pressure is still sharing pressure.’

“As long as you’re happy.” This time, he omitted the honorifics.

“About that mission to kill the leader of the Immortality Society, if you truly don’t want to do it, then let’s forget it. I can give you an easier one.”

“No, don’t! It’s not every day I get a chance to accumulate work experience,” Yodel replied, half-joking as he refused.

Having put so much effort into the intelligence work, giving up now would mean all his previous efforts would be for naught.

****

The leader of the Immortality Society, hidden beneath Landon City, naturally had no idea that a mortal and a deity had sealed his fate amidst their lighthearted banter. At this very moment, he was assembling his followers for a meeting.

The Immortality Society, once responsible for torrents of blood and chaos in Caroling, was now reduced to merely surviving in a dark, subterranean cave, living a precarious existence like rats in a sewer.

Each time he perused the records from the cult’s glorious era, Barin, the leader of the Immortality Society, felt an overwhelming sense of indignation. Such a vast church, yet it had dwindled to a mere few hundred members.

And all of this, he attributed to the Hymn Church.

Ever since the Goddess of Holy Light declared the Immortality Society a heretical cult via divine oracle over three hundred years ago, those Hymn Church followers had relentlessly hunted them across the world like rabid dogs, a pursuit that continued even to this day.

He simply couldn’t comprehend it. The Immortality Society strove for the immortality of all humanity. To achieve this grand endeavor, was it truly so excessive to abduct a few children for human experimentation or sacrifice a few vagrants?

What were these costs compared to achieving eternal life? Why should the Immortality Society be branded a heretical cult? Barin truly couldn’t fathom the Hymn Church’s reasoning.

At that moment, a voice emanating from the cave entrance interrupted Barin’s thoughts.

“My Lord, we have brought the experimental subject.”

“Bring them in!” Barin waved his hand impatiently.

A group of black-robed figures pushed a large, cloth-draped iron cage into the cave. The grating screech of rusty wheels reverberated underground, making the already eerie and terrifying cave even more chilling.

When the cloth was pulled back, the creature imprisoned within the iron cage was exposed to everyone’s gaze.

It was a person, one whose entire body had begun to rot, with eyes turned white, much like a corpse freshly exhumed from a grave.

Yet, this corpse did not lie still; instead, it roared and slammed against the iron bars like a wild beast, splattering putrid bodily fluids and acidic substances.

If Yodel were to see it, he would surely exclaim, ‘Isn’t that a zombie?’

From among the black-robed figures, a hunched old man emerged. He spoke respectfully to the leader:

“My Lord, just as I foretold, extensive vivisection experiments are bound to yield results. Our latest research breakthrough now allows us to reanimate corpses. Though the revived subjects lack sanity, this nonetheless represents a monumental advancement.”

The flickering firelight in the cave illuminated the old man’s face, revealing a sinister, maniacal grin that made Barin momentarily flinch.

“My Lord, we are one step closer to conquering death! The world will surely sing praises of our achievements!”

The old man’s voice, like a broken bellows, carried an incomprehensible fanaticism that made Barin, for a fleeting moment, wonder if he was being a bit too reckless.

However, conquering death and achieving immortality had always been the cult’s highest ideal. The old man’s experiments undeniably brought the cult closer to its dream, and Barin saw no reason to stop him.

‘Surely nothing could go wrong,’ Barin thought, gazing into the old man’s cloudy eyes. ‘It’s just a drug experiment to bring people back to life.’