CHAPTER 1281: CHAPTER 311: THE NATURE OF DEITIES (TWO IN ONE)

"Saviors, huh..."

The Old Grandmother chewed on the weight of the word.

She revealed a gentle smile: "Now that’s something I truly did not foresee."

"What’s so unforeseen about it?"

Annan cracked a joke: "Our talents, perhaps."

"It’s Skotti’s mercy."

The Old Grandmother gave Annan an answer that was more or less expected: "By any measure, her actions hardly qualify as kind.

"Her temperament is capricious, shifting with the randomness of her age, which transforms daily as if the world itself were being upended.

"Even as the most harmless of young girls, she’ll engage in acts of what can only be described as ’innocently cruel,’ such as gleefully tearing off the wings of a butterfly. And as an old woman, though her mindset grows steadier and her actions more conservative, her relentless pursuit of ’what’s interesting’ always brims with enthusiasm, which leaves me perpetually unable to trust her.

"Plus, when that dice rolls under three or over ninety-eight, her manner becomes no different from that of a genuine monster. I cannot believe she truly possesses a heart of mercy... To think that the heroes who would ultimately save the world were brought here by her own hand."

Listening to the Old Grandmother’s virtually overflowing criticisms toward Miss Haoyun—alongside her not-so-obvious but undeniably present caution and hostility—Annan smacked his lips, momentarily unsure how to defend her.

The "Skotti" that the Old Grandmother referred to was actually Miss Haoyun’s real name.

She was perhaps the most enigmatic entity in this world, for she was not even a native god... but rather a traveler from the realm of dreams—a bona fide outsider god. Without needing the Power of Truth bestowed by this world, she possessed an extraordinary ability to traverse realms, alter causality, and twist fate itself.

Yet, compared to the horrifying outsider gods Annan had heard of—those who reveled in deception and seduction of humanity—Skotti was far closer to Annan’s good-tempered employer. Though she certainly shared that streak of dark humor, she lacked the purely malevolent essence of those entities.

——Nevertheless, even these two individuals were entirely different at their core.

Even now, Annan knew that his boss was undeniably an Evil God—a Tyrant who had cast him into this world on a "permanent external assignment" without so much as asking. And yet, Annan still considered him a friend.

For certain special individuals—such as Annan—his boss displayed remarkable patience. Of course, Annan now understood why.

Indeed, the boss had no interest in meaningless team-building activities, never arbitrarily changed plans, and never suddenly proposed random absurdities.

To employees uninterested in trivialities and merely wanting to focus on their work, he indeed was a decent boss.

——However, toward those ordinary mortals with average abilities, any sycophancy was at best met with a polite smile—and more likely ignored completely. No matter how earnest the ordinary mortals were in their diligence, he neither acknowledged nor praised them, and they would never receive promotions.

He would rather leave high-tier positions vacant than assign them to someone average—someone "not particularly interesting."

Yet in Annan’s case, he indeed owed his boss a debt of gratitude for recognizing his talents.

The boss frequently presented Annan with special, complex tasks—ones Annan could truly complete—allowing him to craft plans and sharpen his abilities. He often posed Annan intricate and peculiar challenges spanning domains such as religion, philosophy, literature, and psychology. When Annan humbly admitted defeat, his boss would recommend relevant books for him to study instead.

From this angle, Annan could be said to have been personally nurtured by his boss. Even among Annan’s extraordinary colleagues, he likely had the closest relationship with the boss.

For in a certain sense, the boss was also Annan’s "mentor."

The boss often treated them to meals.

He would individually take each of them to outrageously expensive restaurants, engaging them in strange conversations—sometimes so one-on-one that a timid colleague with "adorably petite" features half-jokingly confessed to Annan her fear that their boss might actually be... "not straight."

But for Annan, these chats with the boss were rather enjoyable. Most of their discussions revolved around hypothetical, forum-style questions: "If you were this-and-that, facing such-and-such, with this-and-that at your disposal, what would you do?"

Though the scenarios sounded superficially logical, their wildly imaginative premises made them far from tests—more like friendly banter between buddies. This allowed Annan to candidly express his authentic opinions.

Moreover, "he" was exceptionally adept at stimulating one’s thoughts. Nearly every time, Annan would talk enthusiastically until his throat was dry, frantically gulping down liquor and beverages... while the boss scarcely said a handful of words. He’d merely toss out a few casual speculations, which instantly enriched Annan’s mind, filling him with fresh ideas to share.

This level of conversational support could be described as a masterclass in banter.

"...For instance, my not-so-merciful boss once floated an outlandish proposition while I was diligently eating:

"Imagine there exists an Evil God who cannot be perceived by humanity in any form. If people think he is mighty, he becomes mighty, but if they believe he is weak, he may consciously ’reject’ such perceptions... In other words, he can selectively transform others’ beliefs about him into real strength. Under such circumstances, how could mortals possibly defeat, banish, or seal this Evil God?"