In 2026, the gods descended.
Olympus, Asgard, Cthulhu... The whole world has been reduced to the pasture of the Kingdom of God, and human lives are like grass.
My name is Chen Xuan, patient No. 308 Of Jiangnan Mental Hospital.
The medical record states that he has "severe paranoia". He takes medicine on time every day, talks to cats, and occasionally draws ghost symbols on the wall that no one can understand.
Until the blood moon was in the sky, the nurse opened her orifices in front of me and sprouted tentacles.
I sighed and stuck the toothbrush into her head.
"Mental illness is just mental illness," I stepped on the monster's head and swallowed the weak bit of divinity, "but can you please stop transforming during ward rounds? It will affect my sleep."
When the night watchman rushed in, I was squatting among the corpses and counting.
"Chen Xuan! Who are you?!"
I looked up, looked at the heavily armed special forces, and grinned:
"Me? A severe patient who needs to take medicine on time."
Later, when Thor raised his hammer, I performed a tearing of gods with my hands in public.
Later, when the gods besieged the city, I walked out of the crowd while chewing an apple.
Later, when the Old Ones tore apart the dimensions, I burped and said to the Great Xia Night Watcher behind me:
"Don't panic, wait for me to digest it."
Gods regard me as a madman, and humans regard me as a savior.
Only I know that in that experiment three years ago, what I swallowed was not medicine—it was "the old days."
And now, it's time for dinner.
