——————————————
Sū ěr deeply loved the nights in this world.
A galaxy flowed from the deepest reaches of the sky and the universe toward the furthest depths of the earth. Its shimmering fragments looked like stars, yet they also seemed to be mere points of brilliant light. Even when Sū ěr approached at his maximum speed, the distance never changed—they remained pinpricks of starlight, neither growing larger nor smaller.
Unless dark clouds completely blanketed the sky, this Milky Way would, on most nights, infinitely radiate a blue-white starlight that illuminated the land with a crisp clarity. Unlike the sun's radiance during the day, this starlight wasn't dazzling and carried little warmth, yet it was bright enough that one could easily mistake it for daylight if they didn't look closely.
Perhaps it's also worth mentioning the massive moon that transitioned from full to crescent and back again as time flowed. Whenever night fell and the galaxy revealed itself, that bright, pure moon hung quietly above the celestial river. The stars, which logically should have faded in the moon's prominence, stubbornly continued to twinkle, as if refusing to be outshone.
Of course, while he had a particular fondness for the nights, Sū ěr didn't actually harbor any resentment toward the sun or the daytime. Perhaps it was because the sun in this world wasn't of his own making, but he felt an inexplicable sense of kinship and goodwill toward it.
Before the protective power bestowed upon him and Think by Tet—who resided within them—had completely vanished in the gaps between worlds, Sū ěr had crossed world after world that seemed utterly uninhabitable for the living. Finally, he had settled in this world, entering it soundlessly. At the very least, one could see green trees here, so he figured it couldn't be too bad.
Standing by the window of this small hut built of bamboo, Sū ěr watched a hazy figure pass through the galaxy and observed a trail of smoke, so red it was almost black, receding toward the horizon... Well, it probably won't be too bad... right?
Every time he asked himself this question, Sū ěr felt a strange, inexplicable pang of guilt.
In this world, he seemingly didn't have to worry about being crushed in his sleep by the aftershocks of a battle occurring in some distant land. Nor did he have to fret over food and water; the wildlife, plants, and rivers were abundant—perhaps a bit too abundant.
There didn't seem to be any beings on this planet capable of reshaping the surface with a wave of a hand—at least, Sū ěr hadn't seen any such massive disturbances yet. Having just escaped a life of constant warfare, this existence was so peaceful it actually made his skin crawl.
Well... perhaps such beings do exist? Maybe they just aren't at war with each other?
He had discussed this with Think, but the conversation ultimately led nowhere. Whether such powerful entities existed or not, Sū ěr had decided to keep a low profile. At the very least, he had no intention of sticking his neck out until he figured out just how deep the waters of this world truly were.
Although he had once held the incredibly prestigious position of the One True God, capable of freely manipulating the distorted laws of an entire world, Sū ěr mindset remained remarkably stable. Consequently, he didn't feel much of a sense of loss after losing that power.
Upholding this sense of equanimity, Sū ěr had once cautiously traveled a great distance toward where the galaxy flowed into the earth. However, no matter how long he walked, he could never find the point where the Milky Way met the ground. As mentioned before, it always maintained its distance, seemingly forever out of reach.
Naturally, during this journey, Sū ěr had become somewhat acquainted with the local inhabitants of this world. According to his past memories, perhaps those creatures—some massive, some grotesque—should be called Yōkai or ghosts?
And then there were those... beings... who could perhaps be called humans.
Thinking of this, Sū ěr couldn't help but let out a long sigh.
It was hard to imagine that even he could harbor such arrogant thoughts, but truth be told, for the first time, Sū ěr truly understood why Asano Hakushū—the Werebeast—had burst into laughter upon hearing Sū ěr self-defense for survival.
No matter how similar they might look if scaled up proportionally, Sū ěr found it truly difficult to categorize these creatures as the same "human" race as himself. They stood less than five feet tall—mostly around four-foot-something—covered in filth, draped in tattered hemp, with disheveled hair and protruding jaws. Moreover, hardly any of them could even stand up straight.
The situation was so severe that when Sū ěr stood before them, both parties had to crane their necks nearly ninety degrees just to make eye contact.
Monkeys. As disrespectful as it was, that was the first concept that sprang to Sū ěr mind. The humans of this world seemed to maintain very primitive habits, living in small tribal groups in caves... literal cave-dwelling. Sū ěr had curiously observed them; their homes were simply holes dug into the ground. When night fell, they crawled inside, and that was that.
As for the title of "civilization"... it felt like they needed at least a few more rounds of evolution before that word could be applied to them.
Every time he recalled this, the muscles at the corner of Sū ěr mouth would twitch. Back then, it seemed to him that the only difference between humans and Werebeasts was a bit more fur and some ears and tails. But to Asano Hakushū, the gap was probably exactly what Sū ěr felt now looking at the local humans of this world.
A rustling sound came from outside the bamboo hut. Initially, such a sound would have made Sū ěr tense up in vigilance, but now it only prompted another sigh. Although the circumstances were surreal, the small tribe he had encountered seemingly regarded him as a deity to be worshipped. This commotion likely meant they were back again.
Having guessed the situation outside, Sū ěr made some minor preparations before pushing open the bamboo door and stepping out.
Seeing the exquisite bamboo hut suddenly open, the short humans huddled before his door scrambled to prostrate themselves. They crawled on their bellies, looking as though they wished they could dig a hole on the spot to lie even lower to show their reverence.
"%#@*!"
They did possess their own language. Although he couldn't understand it at first, with the help of the invincible Think, Sū ěr could now grasp the meaning of the sounds they were shouting.
They were currently crying out with feverish intensity: "God!"