Chapter 13: Gods and Quests

The city streets were quiet, save for the distant hum of streetlights and the low growl of Franz's motorcycle engine. The night air was cool against his face, a stark contrast to the warmth of the cigarette resting between his lips.

His right hand, still slick with half-dried blood, held the throttle steady, while his left flicked open his phone. The glow of the screen illuminated his face—navigation app was leading him straight into another goddamn dead end.

He exhaled, the cherry of his cigarette burning red as he muttered,

"Fuck G-Maps. That's the third blocked route."

Orion, still trailing behind him on his own bike, watched with a mix of apprehension and bewilderment. Franz had been talking to himself more than usual, and it was starting to unsettle him.

"System," Franz spoke, his tone laced with irritation. "You got anything better than this junk?"

[Affirmative.]

"Then why the hell didn't you say something when I've been wasting my time running into walls?"

[You didn't ask.]

Franz inhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a brief moment before responding.

"Are you actually fucking stupid?"

Orion's grip tightened on the handlebars.

Franz had lost it.

A few minutes ago—when time had stopped—everything had shifted.

The world around him had frozen in eerie silence. The flickering streetlights, the distant rustle of wind—everything had ceased.

And then, a voice, rich and amused, broke the void.

"Hello, Adrian. Or should I say, Franz?"

His breath came slow and measured as he processed the voice. His mind, honed by years of war and vengeance, didn't allow for reckless reactions. His fingers flexed, his body tensed, but his voice remained even.

"First," he said, his tone respectful but cool, "I'd like to thank you for the new life. What do I owe the pleasure of gods speaking to a mere human?"

A beat of silence. Then, the gods chuckled. They had expected hostility, arrogance—perhaps even indifference. Instead, he was calm. Cordial. Almost… respectful.

They found themselves oddly impressed.

One of them spoke, their voice shifting into a more serious tone.

"We'll get to the point. You thought you killed the ones responsible for your family's deaths. You were wrong. The true culprits still live."

The words struck like a dagger.

Franz's body stiffened, veins bulging at his temples. His nails dug into his palms. A lesser man would have screamed, cursed, raged. But he had learned—anger was a weapon best wielded, not surrendered to.

He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, then exhaled.

When he opened them again, they were colder than before.

"And you're telling me this because?"

Another god spoke, their tone lighter, as if watching a fascinating puzzle come together.

"We have a proposition. One that benefits both of us. You complete your revenge, and in exchange, you help us with a small… issue."

Franz tilted his head slightly.

"Go on."

"It's simple. You will receive quests, much like the games you used to play. Completing them will allow us to transport you back to your world for one day—just long enough to finish what you started."

"And after that?"

"You will return here. To your rightful place."

Franz considered the deal.

One day.

That was all they could offer.

It wasn't perfect, but it was something. More than he had before.

"And the quest?"

A different voice, one that carried the weight of authority, answered.

"Ensure the survival of the main cast of this world's story. Because of Zane Walker's disrupted fate, his plot armor is gone. And with it, the balance of this world is spiraling. If they die before the isekai event, it will lead to complications we do not wish to deal with."

"We don't care how you do it," another god chimed in, a hint of amusement in their voice. "Just make sure they stay alive."

Franz was silent for a moment before, to their surprise, he bowed slightly.

"Thank you for the chance to finish what I started."

The gods felt something strange in that moment.

Love? Attachment?

They had been ordered to reincarnate him, but beyond that, they knew nothing of him. He was unreadable—his fate, his thoughts, even his emotions were veiled from them even Spremebieng refuse to answer related to him.

And yet, watching him now, they felt something akin to… fondness.

They had thought him a mere pawn.

But perhaps, he was something more.

The world snapped back into motion.

The wind rushed past him once more, the hum of his motorcycle filling the air. Franz flicked his cigarette, sending a trail of embers into the night.

"So," he muttered, "which way now, oh mighty system?"

[ Take the left turn ahead, then proceed forward for three blocks.]

Franz smirked.

"See? Was that so hard?"

[…You didn't ask.]

Franz sighed, shaking his head.

"You and I are gonna have a long talk about common sense."

Orion, still following behind, could only stare.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Franz took a final drag, then flicked the cigarette away. He reached for his phone and dialed a number.

"Hello, no time for greetings. I want your help to clean up the mess. I'm sending you two locations. First, clean up and meet me at the next one."

As soon as the call ended, a notification popped up in his head.

DING!

< Arcadia's Will SYSTEM > HAS BEEN GIFTED.

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[ "Who the fuck is this guy?" ]