Chapter 885: Brilliant Stars (27)

Peter, sitting in the chair, shook his head vigorously, then turned to look at Shiler and asked, "Doctor, what exactly is going on? I have no idea what's happening—can you explain it to me?"

At that moment, the Hippo Goddess walked over carrying a tray of assorted snacks and several cups of water. She cleared the table, set down the tray, and placed a cup of water in front of Peter. "Don't rush, child," she said. "Eat something first before you write."

Peter felt his tense throat itch, so he instinctively picked up the cup and took a sip—then he heard Shiler say:

"Nothing major. I just built a heaven."

With a "puff," Peter spat out the water. Glistening droplets flew through the air, crystallized mid-flight, then slowly fell, rippling the surface of the water in concentric circles.

In the steaming hot spring, Strange draped a towel over his shoulders and turned to Shiler. "What did you talk about with Odin? Did you really sell off your resurrection slots?"

He sighed. "I'm not saying this to criticize, but you took a reckless step. Even if you don't need them now, keeping those slots on hand would be safer—you never know when an accident might happen."

Loki also spoke up, wiping his hair with a towel. "Humans are fragile. Even Captain America or Spider-Man—even Iron Man—could die if caught off guard by an ambush. Keep extra resurrection slots. Better safe than sorry. But I'm more curious: what are you charging in return?"

Shiler lifted his wine cup, took a sip, and removed the towel from his forehead. "Asgard is our friend. All humans are subjects of the All-Father. So, gifting Asgard these resurrection slots is also enhancing humanity's own strength…"

Loki rolled his eyes. "There's no one else here—just the three of us. You don't need to put on this official act. Just tell me: what did you really discuss with the All-Father?"

Shiler folded his towel neatly and set it aside, leaning back against the stone, one arm resting casually on the edge of the hot spring. "I'm telling the truth. I'm not demanding any reward. On the contrary, I'm offering the All-Father a far more reliable plan—about the construction of Valhalla…"

Strange narrowed his eyes. He exchanged a glance with Loki, cleared his throat, and said, "How did you trick… I mean, how did you plan this?"

Shiler turned his gaze to Loki. "Even if you're not an Aesir, after living in Asgard this long, you must know the pain points of Valhalla."

"Resurrection, in essence, is simple: when an Asgardian dies, their soul normally goes to the Realm of Death. But Valhalla acts as an interception device—Odin, according to his will, intercepts the souls of warriors he wishes to resurrect, keeping them in Valhalla instead of letting them proceed to the Realm of Death."

"Since Death and Odin have an agreement, this interception is legal. But the problem is: Odin wants to resurrect far more warriors than he has resurrection slots. The number of souls he intercepts vastly exceeds the number he can resurrect."

"These souls linger in Valhalla, waiting in line. Even with Asgardians' exceptionally vibrant souls, they'll eventually dissipate."

"So Death doesn't care how many souls Odin intercepts. His resurrection slots are limited anyway. Eventually, the souls that dissipate will still end up in the Realm of Death."

"Over time, Valhalla has accumulated too many souls waiting for resurrection," Loki added, shaking his head. "They were warriors who gave their lives for Asgard. Even if they can't be resurrected, they shouldn't be crammed into a tiny hall, waiting for years."

"Originally, when resurrection slots were plentiful, these heroes still had hope. But since the slots were tightened and conditions grew stricter, hope has all but vanished," Loki sighed.

"I understand," Shiler said, tracing the rim of his wine cup. "Odin doesn't want to empty Valhalla. Once war breaks out again, these spirits are his reserve force. Before Asgard's imminent doom arrives, you must accumulate enough strength."

"Perhaps many warriors, even while crammed in Valhalla, refuse to dissipate willingly—they still hope to lend one more hand."

Loki's mood sank. Every thought of Ragnarök brought crushing pressure. To an outsider, Odin might seem a merciless ruler, exploiting his loyal subjects to the last drop of value.

But these spirits remained loyal to him, willing to give their final strength—proving he was a great king.

"So what are you planning?" Strange asked.

Shiler smiled. "The core issue is still the insufficient number of resurrection slots."

"Death has tightened resurrection slots across all pantheons. It's not just Valhalla suffering. I hear the Egyptian pantheon has erupted in chaos—the slots can't even be distributed fairly."

"Like Valhalla, they promised too many resurrection slots. Souls have nowhere to go. Anubis, overwhelmed by overcrowding in his underworld city, has moved into a tent by the river."

"I understand the same is true for some Eastern pantheons. This crisis has affected many."

"Most of the leaders of these factions haven't personally dealt with Death. Making deals with her was ancient history—thousands of years ago. No one can explain why the slots suddenly shrank. They're probably clueless right now."

"When the contracts were signed, Death promised clearly. Now she silently cuts the slots, causing chaos among her clients. Isn't that outrageous?"

After saying this, Shiler looked at Strange and Loki. Their gazes said plainly: "So who do you blame?"

Shiler understood. He answered confidently: "Who's to blame? Obviously, Death!"

"She exploited system loopholes, evaded taxes, inflated currency, signed contracts she couldn't honor—and now she's dodging responsibility. I'm just a righteous bystander who reported her. Why blame me?"

Shiler's tone was so self-righteous that Strange and Loki wavered slightly—then his next words shattered their understanding entirely.

"Death refuses to explain because she thinks she doesn't need to. After all, she is cosmic law. She can do whatever she wants. But we can't let some game designer treat players like this."

"Today she cuts benefits. Tomorrow she might shut down the server entirely. We must unite, fight for our rights, and claim every single player benefit."

"So you plan to confront Death?" Strange asked, knowing Shiler had been barred from the Realm of Death. "But you can't even enter the Realm of Death. How will you find her? And even if you do, what leverage do you have to bargain with her?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

Shiler smiled mysteriously. What followed, many would soon learn.

When Death originally granted Shiler resurrection slots, the contract was simple, with minimal conditions. Crucially, it never specified that the resurrected beings had to be of the same race as Shiler himself—meaning Shiler could resurrect humans, or Asgardians.

Death only blocked Shiler from resurrecting the Soviet Union and limited the time window—but never the race. So Shiler colluded with Odin, selling part of his slots to Odin so he could resurrect Asgardians.

And Shiler didn't just sell slots to Odin—he publicly listed them. Anyone interested could come and negotiate.

Death had cut the slots because she'd been caught cheating—abusing the system, gaming the rules, and getting exposed by Eternity. But Shiler's actions made it look as if the slots hadn't been cut at all. Worse—he created such a spectacle that Eternity would inevitably trace it back to Death.

So Death began frantically calling Shiler. Predictably, he didn't answer.

Finally, with no other option, Death turned to her tool: Thanos.

But as Thanos entered the solar system, he was ambushed. Enraged, the Hulk unleashed Laozi's Golden Hoop, swung Shiler's ring, and knocked Thanos unconscious.

Thanos was powerful—but he hadn't yet gathered the Stones or forged the Gauntlet. His mind was clouded by rage after his goddess called him to pursue another man. Add to that the Hulk's shameless sneak attack—and with perfect timing, terrain, and opportunity—he was knocked out cold.

Though the Titan's skull was tough, it couldn't withstand the Hulk's relentless, consecutive punches. After thirty-two airborne strikes, Thanos was dead.

And unluckily, Deadpool, for defecating in Eternity's temple, had been punished with over three hundred "Death Comes for You" scenarios within three days—finally overpowering Thanos's curse and sending Deadpool to the Realm of Death.

Death hadn't seen her old lover in ages. Overjoyed, they embraced passionately—when Thanos knocked on the door.

Death assumed Thanos had brought Shiler. Suppressing her disgust, she opened the door. But Thanos, equally overjoyed after so long, lunged to hug her.

Death slapped him hard, sending him flying out of the Realm of Death. But in the real world, Thanos was still being pummeled by the Hulk—his stun status hadn't worn off. He'd barely resurrected when he was killed again.

Thus, Thanos died repeatedly, was kicked out repeatedly, resurrected, and died again. In the Realm of Death, Death and Deadpool kept being interrupted mid-passion dozens of times. Even the most patient soul would snap.

Death stormed to Eternity. Eternity hung Thanos on the outer edge of the universe. But when Death returned to her realm, she realized something was wrong.

Thanos wasn't some minor player. Though he hadn't yet become the universe's master, his potential was immense. Death chose him as her tool precisely because the Titans were durable—and Thanos, a rare intelligent one, was easy to use.

Throughout, Thanos had been obsessed with Death—but also fiercely ambitious. Death didn't believe he'd kill himself just to enter her realm.

If not suicide, then murder. But Thanos was among the strongest beings. Even without Stones or a Gauntlet, few could defeat him. Who could kill him so many times in such a short span?

Death sensed something suspicious. She began investigating. Entities like her could directly perceive timelines.

She pulled forth a timeline, followed it backward—and then, with a trembling hand, hurled it away.

【60】 Because she saw him: Shiler, standing at the timeline's beginning, smiling at her.