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The God Of Reality

[This is not a Reader Insert!] My name is Y/N, and I'm not your average God. I'm The God of Reality, the Author of Everything, the Primordial One-basically, I'm a big deal. But being a God isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sure, I have all the powers you can imagine in Fiction. My only worshiper, Hiyori, is a kitsune who's way too cute for her own good, and even though she acts like she can't stand me, I know she's just hiding her true feelings. Or at least, that's what I keep telling myself. Meanwhile, there's this Demon King, Akuma, who's dead set on causing chaos. Guess I'll have to step in and remind everyone why I'm The God of Reality. *** Preview

HoneySnatcher · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
21 Chs

Chapter 8: A Spirit's Dumbass Dilemma

It was a lazy afternoon at Hiyori's shrine. The sun was high, the cicadas were screeching their little hearts out, and everything was peaceful. Too peaceful. Hiyori was off to the side, humming as she swept the stone steps, her five tails swishing in time with her sweeping. I was lounging on the porch, leaning back against the wooden beams with a sake bottle in one hand and a stupid grin on my face. Things had been calm lately, and calm was boring, but it was a nice kind of boring for a change. Koyasu was out, probably off getting wasted somewhere, and I had no doubt that his lack of presence meant that something was brewing.

I took a long sip of sake, closing my eyes and enjoying the warmth as it slid down my throat. "Hey, Hiyori," I called, "you ever think Koyasu's getting himself into some deep shit right now?"

She paused in her sweeping, ears twitching. "Knowing him? Probably." She sighed, leaning the broom against the railing. "I'm surprised he hasn't shown up here already begging for help."

I laughed. "Give him time. He's probably passed out in a gutter somewhere first."

Just as I said that, I heard the distinct sound of rapid footsteps crunching on the gravel path leading up to the shrine. I glanced up and, sure enough, there he was—Koyasu, floating more than running, looking like a man who'd just escaped the gates of hell. His hair was even more of a mess than usual, and there was a wild look in his glowing blue eyes.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I muttered, sitting up. "Here we go."

Koyasu skidded to a halt in front of us, panting, his translucent form flickering as he caught his breath. "Y/N! Hiyori! Help me! I'm in deep shit!"

Hiyori rolled her eyes. "What did you do this time?"

Koyasu looked around nervously, as if expecting someone to jump out of the bushes and grab him. "It's not what I did—it's who I did."

I blinked. "Okay, I'm intrigued. Spill it."

Koyasu groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. "I… I accidentally slept with a Yakuza's daughter."

I burst out laughing so hard I almost dropped my sake. "Holy shit, Koyasu! You idiot!"

"How do you accidentally sleep with a Yakuza's daughter?" Hiyori asked, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

Koyasu threw his hands up. "I didn't know! She didn't exactly come with a label that said, 'Property of the Fucking Yakuza!'"

I wiped a tear from my eye, still chuckling. "Alright, alright. What happened?"

Koyasu took a deep breath, looking like he was about to confess to some heinous crime. "Okay, so I was at this bar, right? Just minding my own business, having a few drinks—"

"More like a few dozen," I interjected.

He ignored me. "And this chick comes up to me. We start talking, hitting it off, and one thing leads to another... you know how it goes."

Hiyori nodded slowly. "And then?"

"And then," Koyasu continued, "I wake up the next morning, and she's gone. But there's a note on the table that says, 'Had fun. Don't call me. Dad's Yakuza.'"

I couldn't help it—I was doubled over again, laughing my ass off. "You... are so... fucked!" I gasped between laughs.

Koyasu looked like he was about to have a panic attack. "And now her dad's out for blood! I need you guys to help me before I end up in a barrel at the bottom of the river!"

Hiyori sighed, massaging her temples. "Why do you always bring your messes here, Koyasu?"

"Because you're the only friends I have!... Not really but, y'know what I mean."

I finally managed to catch my breath. "Okay, okay. Let's think this through. How bad are we talking here? Like, 'get beat up and tossed in a ditch' bad, or 'missing persons case on the evening news' bad?"

"Definitely the second one," Koyasu said, gulping. "I saw the guys following me. Tattoos, missing fingers, the whole deal."

I grimaced. "Shit. Alright, so here's what we're gonna do. We need to lay low for a bit, figure out a way to get them off your back."

Hiyori folded her arms, her tails swishing in agitation. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that, Y/N?"

I grinned, a crazy idea already forming in my head. "Simple. We throw a fake funeral."

Koyasu blinked. "What?"

"Yeah," I said, warming up to the idea. "We stage a fake funeral for you. We spread some rumors, make it look like you're already dead. Then the Yakuza backs off, and you lay low until they forget about you."

Hiyori stared at me. "That's... actually a solid plan."

Koyasu looked doubtful. "And you think they'll just buy it? I mean, I'm a spirit. I could just fake being dead, but... they might get suspicious."

I shrugged. "It's better than getting chopped into pieces. Plus, we've got to sell it. Hiyori, you can use your shrine connections to spread the word. I'll take care of the funeral arrangements. We'll make it a real spectacle."

Koyasu groaned. "I hate that this might actually work."

"Come on, Koyasu," I said, clapping him on the back. "It's either this or you end up as sushi."

He sighed, defeated. "Fine. But if this goes south, I'm haunting your ass, Y/N."

I grinned. "Deal."

A few hours later, we were at one of the local funeral parlors. The owner, an old lady with more wrinkles than a dried prune, was giving us a skeptical look.

"So," she said, her voice raspy, "you want to hold a funeral... for a ghost?"

"Yep," I said, flashing her my best smile. "It's a... spiritual thing. Very traditional. You know how it is."

She narrowed her eyes. "No, I don't."

"Look, just set it up," I said, slipping a few bills onto the counter. "Make it look legit."

She stared at the money, then at me, then sighed. "Fine. But you boys are cleaning up after."

"Deal," I said, grinning.

Hiyori had managed to spread the word through her shrine network, and soon enough, people started showing up. We'd even managed to rustle up a cheap coffin from a back alley pawn shop—don't ask me how.

Koyasu lied down flat inside it, looking bored out of his mind. "This is the dumbest thing I've ever done," he muttered, his voice muffled by the closed coffin lid.

"Shut up, Koyasu," I said, adjusting the fake flower arrangement on top of the coffin. "You brought this on yourself. At least try to look more... dead."

"How am I supposed to look more dead?" he snapped. "I'm already a spirit!"

"Use your imagination," I shot back. "And stay quiet! We can't afford to blow this. Those Yakuza goons might be here any second."

Hiyori was busy fussing over the incense and chanting, trying her best to look like a grieving friend conducting a genuine ritual. She was doing a pretty good job of it too, with her fox ears flattened back and her eyes all misty. I had to admit, she could be convincing when she wanted to be.

I leaned over the coffin, knocking lightly on the lid. "Alright, Koyasu, showtime. Play dead, and don't screw this up."

"Fine," he grumbled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll play dead. Oh wait, I am dead."

The funeral parlor was dimly lit, with a low-hanging chandelier flickering overhead and casting eerie shadows across the room. We had a small gathering of mourners, mostly random villagers we'd coaxed into showing up with the promise of free food and booze afterward. A few of them looked genuinely solemn, but most were just there for the spectacle, whispering among themselves about how they'd never seen a funeral for a spirit before.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a chill ran down my spine. Three men stepped in, all dressed in dark suits, their faces like stone. Yakuza. They had that air of intimidation, the kind that makes you feel like you're already in trouble just by looking at them. One of them, a tall guy with a scar running down his cheek, was scanning the room with a look that could curdle milk.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath. "They're here."

Hiyori shot me a warning glance. "Stay calm. Stick to the plan."

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Right, right."

The Yakuza guys slowly approached, and Scarface locked eyes with me. "So," he said, his voice like gravel, "this is the ghost's funeral, huh?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Koyasu was... a good spirit. A real stand-up guy. We wanted to send him off in style, you know?"

Scarface stared at me for a long moment, then glanced at the coffin. "Open it."

My heart skipped a beat. "What?"

He didn't ask again. "Open. The. Coffin."

I shot a panicked look at Hiyori, who gave a subtle nod. "Alright," I said, taking a deep breath. "But be warned, it's not a pretty sight."

I reached out and lifted the lid of the coffin, revealing Koyasu lying inside, perfectly still, eyes closed. For a moment, I thought we might just pull this off.

Then Koyasu sneezed.

The sound echoed through the funeral parlor like a gunshot. My heart sank as I saw the Yakuza guys tense up, their hands moving to their jackets where I knew they were packing heat.

"You stupid bastard," I hissed at Koyasu.

"Sorry," he whispered, "I got dust in my nose!"

Scarface's eyes narrowed. "You think we're idiots?" he growled. "This is all a scam, isn't it?"

"No, no, it's legit!" I stammered. "He's, uh, allergic to death!"

Scarface didn't look convinced. "You're dead meat, kid."

I felt the blood drain from my face as he reached inside his jacket. "Hiyori," I muttered, "now would be a good time for one of those tricks of yours."

Before Hiyori could react, Koyasu suddenly sat up in the coffin, eyes wide. "Wait, wait, wait!" he shouted, waving his hands frantically. "I can explain!"

The Yakuza guys froze, staring at him like they'd just seen a ghost—which, technically, they had. Koyasu put on his best 'I'm harmless' face, which was a bit hard to take seriously considering he was a translucent spirit in a cheap wooden coffin.

"Look," he said, "I had no idea she was the boss's daughter, alright? I swear, if I'd known, I'd have kept my ghostly hands to myself. Can't we just... call it even?"

For a moment, the room was dead silent. Then Scarface burst out laughing—a deep, menacing laugh that sent shivers down my spine. "You've got guts, ghost," he said, still chuckling. "But guts don't mean shit to me."

"Okay, okay," I cut in, trying to defuse the situation. "Let's just calm down, everyone. No need to get all murdery over a simple misunderstanding, right?"

Hiyori stepped forward, her expression serious. "He's right. This doesn't have to end in violence. We can work something out."

Scarface considered this for a moment, then shrugged. "Fine. But the boss is gonna want compensation. You think you can pay off a debt like that?"

I glanced at Koyasu, who looked like he was about to faint. "Uh... we're a bit short on cash at the moment," I admitted. "But we've got... other skills."

Scarface's eyebrows raised. "Other skills?"

"Yeah!" I said, grasping at straws. "Like, uh, exorcisms. Or... cleansing rituals. We're real pros."

He snorted. "That's the best you've got?"

"Well, I can also juggle," I added lamely.

Scarface sighed, clearly losing patience. "You know what? Forget it. Let's just—"

Before he could finish, the door burst open again, and in walked the boss himself. He was a short, stocky man with a thick neck and an even thicker mustache, and he did not look happy.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, his voice booming.

Scarface quickly straightened up. "Boss, we were just about to take care of this."

The boss eyed Koyasu, then me, then Hiyori. "You three look like a bunch of idiots," he said flatly. "What kind of funeral is this?"

"It's, uh, a ghost funeral," I explained. "For our good friend, Koyasu. He's, uh, very dead."

Koyasu waved. "Hi."

The boss's eyes narrowed. "So you're the one who slept with my daughter?"

Koyasu gulped. "Y-yes, sir. But, uh, in my defense, she's very charming."

The boss stared at him for a long moment, then sighed deeply. "Alright, here's the deal. You're gonna pay me back every yen of what this mess cost me, and you're gonna do it by working off your debt."

Koyasu blinked. "Work? Like, real work?"

"Yeah," the boss said with a wicked grin. "And you're gonna start right now."

Before any of us could react, the Yakuza guys grabbed Koyasu and started dragging him out the door. He flailed and shouted, "Wait, wait! Can't we negotiate?"

The boss shook his head. "Nope. You're mine now, ghost boy."

I turned to Hiyori. "We've gotta help him!"

She looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Help him? He's the one who got himself into this mess!"

"Yeah, but it's Koyasu!" I said. "He's our friend, and friends don't let friends get enslaved by the Yakuza!"

She groaned. "Fine. But this is the last time."

We trailed behind them as they hauled Koyasu down the street, heading for what I could only assume was some kind of Yakuza hideout. The further we went, the sketchier the neighborhood got. Broken windows, graffiti, the works. Classic bad-guy territory.

"Okay," I whispered to Hiyori, "we need a plan. And fast."

"Got any bright ideas?" she whispered back.

I thought for a moment, then grinned. "Actually, yeah. I do."

We reached a dilapidated old warehouse, and the Yakuza guys shoved Koyasu inside. I could hear him protesting loudly, but they didn't seem to care. Hiyori and I crept around the side, looking for a way in.

"There," I said, pointing to a broken window. "We'll go in through there."

Hiyori sighed. "This better not get us killed, Y/N."

"Hey, when have I ever led you wrong?"

"All the time," she deadpanned.

"Fair point," I conceded, "but this time will be different. Trust me."

We climbed through the window and landed in a dark, dusty room filled with old crates and broken furniture. I could hear voices coming from the main area of the warehouse, and I crept closer, motioning for Hiyori to follow.

We peeked around a corner and saw Koyasu tied to a chair, surrounded by a dozen Yakuza guys. The boss was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself.

"Alright," I whispered to Hiyori, "on my signal, we cause a distraction, then I'll get Koyasu out of there."

Hiyori nodded, though she looked less than thrilled. "And if this goes wrong?"

I flashed her a confident grin. "It won't."

Before she could argue, I stepped out from behind the crates, making my presence known. "Hey there, gentlemen!" I called out, waving. "Mind if I cut in?"

All heads turned toward me, and I could see a mix of confusion and anger on their faces. The boss stopped pacing, glaring at me. "Who the hell are you?"

I sauntered over, hands in my pockets, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. "Just a friend here to settle a debt," I said, locking eyes with the boss. "You want money, right?"

The boss sneered. "Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?"

I grinned. "This."

With a snap of my fingers, three large duffle bags full of money appeared out of thin air, landing with a heavy thud in the center of the room. The bags burst open slightly, revealing stacks of crisp bills.

The Yakuza guys all stared, wide-eyed. Even the boss looked stunned, his mouth hanging open. "What the... where did that come from?"

"Consider it a down payment," I said smoothly. "Enough to cover any 'damages' Koyasu may have caused. And maybe a little extra for your troubles."

The boss's eyes narrowed, but he was clearly tempted. "You think you can just pay us off and walk out of here?"

I shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah."

He stared at me for a long moment, then barked a command to his men. "Check the money."

Two of the guys quickly moved to the bags, rifling through the bills. After a few tense seconds, they nodded. "It's legit, boss."

The boss rubbed his chin, considering. "Alright," he finally said. "You buy your friend's freedom. This time."

Koyasu let out a relieved sigh from his chair. "Thank Gods."

"Don't thank him yet," the boss growled. "And if you ever show your face around my daughter again—"

"Got it, got it," Koyasu interrupted, nodding frantically. "I'll stay far, far away. Promise."

I smiled. "Pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen."

The Yakuza grudgingly untied Koyasu, and he floated over to me, rubbing his wrists. "You really saved my ass there, Y/N."

I smirked. "Yeah, well, you owe me big time. And no more screwing around with Yakuza daughters, got it?"

"Crystal clear," he said, grinning sheepishly.

We backed out of the warehouse, keeping our eyes on the Yakuza guys until we were clear. Once we were out of sight, Koyasu let out a long breath. "Man, I thought I was done for."

"Wouldn't have let that happen," I said, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. "But you seriously need to stop getting yourself into these messes."

Hiyori joined us, shaking her head. "That went better than expected. For once."

"Yeah," I agreed, still grinning. "Maybe our luck's turning around."

Just as I said that, my phone started buzzing in my pocket. I pulled it out, frowning at the unknown number on the screen.

"Who the hell is this?" I muttered.

I answered the call, bringing the phone to my ear. "Hello?"