Chapter 149
I was royally screwed. I fought to keep my expression under control as I turned to face El.
A subtly different aura emanated from him than before, it was something cold and rigid.
“Hello.”
“What are you doing here at this hour?”
At times like this, there was nothing to do but improvise.
I pointed toward the investigation holding room where Number 4 was confined.
“Ration delivery. They said she missed dinner and asked me to bring it to her.”
“Why would they specifically task you with that?”
“Guards make prisoners run errands sometimes. He’s probably asleep in the on-duty room by now. Number 4, you got your rations, right?”
When I deliberately raised my voice, Lize stuck out a half-eaten potato through the small window of the punishment cell.
Thanks for playing along… Next time I’ll bring two.
But El was still watching me with suspicious eyes.
Then I had no choice but to redirect with a barrage of questions.
“And what brings you here at this hour, Bishop?”
“Because you’re here.”
Damn, was there a security camera or something?
I had nothing else to ask.
I rolled my eyes to scan the surroundings, then plopped down right where I stood.
“By the way, what was that just now? That was terrifying.”
“Quite a delayed reaction for someone who nearly died.”
“I was just taken aback.”
I really was taken aback. I sat there and let out a sigh.
He stood with a hand on his hip, gesturing haughtily with his chin.
“A protective-custody-grade inmate is a high-risk. A violent, mentally deranged criminal, locked up since before the revolution.”
“That child?”
If it was before the revolution, that meant they’d been locked up as a genuinely dangerous person.
Johann and Enrique were arrested for desertion after sneaking out for donuts, but were practically gentlemen by comparison.
“He’s fully grown.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s a ruse. The appearance of a child lulls the opponent into a false sense of security.”
“The way you phrased that as ‘fully grown’ is really something…”
He tilted his lips into a crooked, sinister smile.
“Want me to put you two in the same cell?”
“My apologies.”
If he was going to act that petty, I had no choice but to apologize on the spot.
I bowed my head but raised my eyes defiantly, determined not to concede in spirit, at least.
“What a strange way to apologize.”
With a low chuckle, he pressed the toe of his shoe down slowly on the fingers I’d braced against the floor.
What kind of petty god steps on people’s hands?
Didn’t gods need humans to exist so they could receive faith, adoration, and offerings in the first place?
“With this, we’re even. That’s fair, right?”
I gazed up at El with a tranquil expression, and he slowly lifted the shoe he’d been grinding down with force.
His purple eyes fixed on me as if studying something curious.
“How strange. Normally, when a human encounters a god, they’d either desperately beg for a wish or be too consumed by guilt to even make eye contact.”
“Will you grant any wish?”
“Of course.”
El answered elegantly, flashing a smooth eye-smile.
I sensed a numb, detached gaze from him, as if he were looking down at a single speck from a great height.
The way we look at ants we might unknowingly step on, or deliberately crush.
One might dodge a shard of glass, but what good was that against a transcendent being?
To me, a god was nothing more than a top-tier predator who extracted payment under the guise of granting “wishes.”
“El.”
He lazily met my gaze but said nothing.
I held out to him the hand his shoe heel had reddened.
“Could you help me up?”
Whether evil or good, wasn’t this the very meaning of a god’s existence?
A being that humans need, one they simultaneously desire yet resent.
As a self-centered human, I thought in purely human terms.
He looked down at me with a leisurely expression, then extended his hand.
“What a trivial wish.”
“It’s not a wish, it’s a request. How kind of you.”
Even after I was fully on my feet, he didn’t let go of my hand.
Standing beneath his chin, I lowered my gaze to his neatly placed shoes.
His breath settled onto the top of my head.
A peculiar silence lingered, then dissolved into his low voice.
“That power, was it granted to you by the god of that world?”
Was he referring to the god of my original world?
His question was vague, but it seemed to presuppose that I was a Wielder, which made my scalp prickle.
Either asking what he already knew, or asking to confirm it.
This, too, was undoubtedly another test from him.
“I’ve never seen such a god.”
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