Just call me Thor

Chapter 577: You’re not crazy



Do what you think, and act on it.

That was Apollo.

No one noticed when a white cloud drifted away from the Tower of Truth.

When Apollo didn't want to be noticed, no one could notice him.

The white cloud floated aimlessly until it stopped at the edge of a city. There, it transformed into the figure of a middle-aged man.

Apollo continued forward.

"Mom, look! That man is flying!"

Apollo heard the child's voice and glanced around.

Everyone else was walking, but he was floating mid-air, gliding forward like a ghost.

Apollo thought this was faster.

In the past, he would stand on a white cloud, and sometimes even on a turtle.

Not long after the child spoke, Apollo's feet touched the ground. He took a step forward.

He could walk, after all.

After a few steps, another child tilted his head and asked, "Doesn't it hurt to walk barefoot?"

Apollo looked down at himself, then at the people around him.

Everyone was wearing shoes.

It had been a long time since he'd visited the mortal realm, and he'd forgotten to wear shoes.

A pair of shoes appeared on Apollo's feet.

He continued walking.

In this city, Apollo wandered aimlessly.

Before long, two members of the City Defense Department stopped him.

A child had led them there.

"It's him! He was just standing in the middle of the road, about to get hit by a car, and didn't even move!"

One of the officers, a General-level warrior, approached Apollo with a friendly demeanor. "Sir, may I see your identification?"

Apollo shook his head. "I don't have one."

"Uh..."

The General hadn't expected such a straightforward answer.

The man didn't seem mentally unstable, so the General tried another approach.

"Do you have an ID card, driver's license, or proof of address? If not, could you tell us where you work?"

Apollo thought for a moment and gave an answer: "Mystic Market."

He figured he technically worked there... right?

"Oh, you work at Mystic Market? You should've said so earlier! You guys at Mystic Market are known for being fair in business."

The General relaxed a little and asked, "What's your employee number?"

Apollo shook his head. "I don't have one."

The General frowned. How could someone working at Mystic Market not have an employee number? Was this a joke?

Still holding onto his patience, the General asked, "Who's your supervisor?"

Apollo thought seriously for a moment, then shook his head again. "I don't have one."

This was getting ridiculous.

How could someone at Mystic Market not have a supervisor?

What did this guy think he was-a Supreme Being?

The General was starting to get annoyed. He felt like the man was messing with him.

"Alright, no supervisor. Do you have any subordinates?"

This time, Apollo nodded. "Yes."

He gave a name: "Foreskin."

The General's pen hovered in mid-air, waiting for more information.

After a long pause, the General asked irritably, "What's Foreskin's employee number?"

Such a common name-how was he supposed to know who that was?

"Wait a moment."

Apollo paused, then added, "Foreskin said he doesn't have an employee number either."

The General: ...

What a coincidence!

What were they, the CEO and chairman?

The General was now convinced the man in front of him was a lunatic. Everything he'd said was probably made up.

"Alright, one last question."

Despite his growing frustration, the General stuck to protocol. If this question checked out,

he'd call the psychiatric hospital to take the man away.

"Have you had any recent contact with the demon race?"

This time, Apollo answered quickly.

He nodded. "Yes."

Not long ago, he'd killed the Eighth Demon God and told the Supreme Demon God to get lost.

That probably counted as "contact."

The General: ...

"Sir, I'm going to need you to come with us. By 'come with us,' I mean get in the car... Why don't you understand anything?"

Human Supreme Being, Apollo.

Time since leaving the Tower of Truth: 7 minutes, 34 seconds.

Outcome: Detained by the City Defense Department.

In the interrogation room of the City Defense Department, Apollo sat quietly in a chair,

staring straight ahead.

Across from him sat a General and the General's disciple.

"What's your name?"

"Apollo."

When Apollo truthfully gave his name, both men audibly gasped.

"Wow- Your name is... hiss-"

The older General, trying to remain composed, cautiously asked, "How old are you?"

Even though he knew it was impossible for this man to be Supreme Being Apollo, the

General's tone had grown noticeably more respectful.

Apollo shook his head. "I don't know."

The General pressed on, "Where are you from?"

"From?"

Apollo tried to understand the question and eventually gave an answer.

To be precise, he used coordinates to describe his origin.

"This..."

The General sent someone to check the coordinates while he continued questioning Apollo.

"Where do you live now?"

Apollo repeated the same coordinates and added, "The 99th floor."

"You mean the 99th floor of a building?"

The General muttered to himself as he recorded the answer. This was getting absurd.

There weren't many buildings on Earth with 99 floors, and living that high up seemed unnecessary and inconvenient.

After asking a few more basic questions, the General exchanged a glance with his disciple. It seemed unlikely they'd get any more useful information.

"Alright, that's enough for now. If you need anything, let us know. As long as it's legal, we'll accommodate you. Once we confirm you have no ties to the demon race and are capable of independent action, we'll let you go. We apologize for the inconvenience."

With that, the General stood up and left the room with his disciple. Outside, the disciple asked, "Master, why are you being so polite to him?"

"You don't understand," the General replied irritably. "I almost joined Guardian Shadow back

in the day. Trust me on this."

He sent his disciple off to file the paperwork, then leaned against the wall, trembling like a

leaf.

Sweat poured down his face, and he looked as frail as a centenarian.

A passing colleague asked if he was alright.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," the General muttered, staggering back to his desk.

Meanwhile, the coordinates Apollo had provided were traced.

"Samson, are you messing with me?"

A chubby man stormed over, visibly annoyed. "You gave me coordinates to check. Guess where they lead?"

Samson's throat tightened. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Where?"

The chubby man spat out four words: "Tower of Truth."

"Master! Master! Something terrible has happened!"

Samson's disciple rushed over, speaking in a hushed tone.

"The man we brought in earlier... he's gone!" Samson shot to his feet. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?!"

He hurried to the interrogation room, only to find it empty.

This was serious.

Without hesitation, Samson pulled out his communicator and contacted his old superior.

Back in the day, Samson had been lucky to survive the battlefield. His old boss hadn't been so fortunate and had ended up joining Guardian Shadow.

The communicator connected, and a gruff voice barked, "I just got back from the abyss. This

job is killing me..."

Guardian Shadow had been working overtime lately, with no extra pay. Many members

suspected a leadership change.

"What is it? Spit it out!"

Samson quickly explained the bizarre situation.

The line went silent.

Just as Samson was about to hang up, a soft, effeminate voice suddenly chimed in.

"Hello? Can you hear me?"

The voice was so unnervingly delicate that it sent shivers down Samson's spine.

It was unmistakable-this was Shadow Two, the second-in-command of Guardian Shadow

and Morpheus' trusted lieutenant.

Samson swallowed hard. "I can hear you."

"I'm at the door. Come get me."

Samson: ???

He hadn't expected such efficiency.

Soon, Samson greeted a stunningly beautiful woman at the entrance.

For a moment, he thought the voice might have belonged to her.

But when she spoke, her deep, gravelly voice shattered the illusion. Everyone had the same thought: What a gorgeous woman... if only she didn't talk.

The woman spread her arms dramatically and shouted, "Everyone, look at me! I have an

announcement!"

As all eyes turned to her, a flash of black light engulfed the room.

When the light faded, everyone looked around in confusion.

"What just happened?"n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Why are we standing here?"

"Let's get back to work!" With everyone's memories temporarily sealed, Shadow Two yawned and crouched in a

corner.

"So, where to next?"

Foreskin, drenched in sweat, paced nervously.

"When the boss asked for my employee number, I knew something was off. Who could've

guessed..."

While Shadow Two sealed memories, Foreskin reviewed the surveillance footage.

As expected, Apollo didn't appear in any of it.

Even those who had seen Apollo couldn't recall his face-only a vague impression of his

presence.

Shadow Two, ever the troublemaker, couldn't resist teasing.

"So, your boss is running around somewhere, and you have no idea where he is?"

"Do you know where your boss is?" Foreskin shot back coldly.

"If my boss gets into trouble, forget about whether the world survives-if your Fourth Bro

comes back, you're done for."

Shadow Two winced. At the mention of Fourth Bro, even she felt a twinge of fear.

"What are you waiting for? Go find your boss!"

Foreskin spread his hands helplessly, gesturing to the massive city around them.

"How? How do I find him?"

They couldn't use their powers or alert Apollo. They had to search like ordinary people.

Finding one middle-aged man in a city of millions?

Impossible.

"I'm ordering two coffins from Mystic Market," Shadow Two muttered, pulling out a tablet.

"Foreskin, any preferences? Want a dance troupe at your funeral?"

Foreskin: ...

Florida State Psychiatric Hospital, Facility Three.

Apollo stood outside the hospital, deep in thought.

Earlier, someone had suggested he belonged in a psychiatric hospital.

So, here he was.

Staring at the building, Apollo wondered: What now?

He stopped an elderly man in a hospital gown and asked, "Is this a psychiatric hospital?"

The old man nodded. "Sure is. I've been living here for over forty years."

"What's inside?" Apollo asked. "What else? Patients and doctors..."

Before the old man could finish, staff came to escort him back inside.

"Sorry about that, sir. He's harmless, just likes to wander off..."

Apollo wasn't paying attention.

He was thinking: If a psychiatric hospital only has patients and doctors...

He looked at himself.

He didn't seem like a patient.

So, he must be... a doctor?

With that thought, Apollo's robes vanished, replaced by a white doctor's coat.

He walked into the hospital.

Seeing other doctors with ID badges, Apollo conjured one for himself.

Noticing pens in their pockets, he added one to his own.

When he saw they had offices, he created one for himself.

And when he saw they had patients...

Apollo sat at his desk, staring at the computer in front of him. It wasn't turned on.

Across from him sat a disheveled, erratic man-his patient.

Apollo studied the man intently for half a minute, mimicking the other doctors.

Finally, he spoke. "You're not crazy."

The man, who had been acting erratically, suddenly calmed down. After a moment of thought, he nodded.

"You're right. I'm not crazy."

With his family's support, the man was discharged.

The intercom announced:

"Next patient, please proceed to Room 000..."

A patient who was supposed to go to the third floor inexplicably walked into Room 000.

Half a minute later, a healthy man walked out of the hospital.

The intercom sounded again:

"Next patient..."