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Marvel : Godly Lottery System

Why did Apocalypse die naked on the street? Why did Iron Man scream miserably in the middle of the night? Why does Wakanda repeatedly fall into the wrong hands? Why is Asgard frequently targeted by thefts? Why couldn't Thanos snap his fingers, and who was behind it? What lies behind the Avengers' worried faces? Is it the distortion of human nature or the decline of morality? Stay tuned to this book as we follow the protagonist into their inner world... . . . . . . . . Not my story. Translation If you want to support me. My pat*eon Id is--> pat*eon.com/Lord_Immortal_0170 Or you feel like tipping me for my hardwork you can do so on Ko*fi --> ko-fi.com/lord_immortal_0170

Lord_Immortal_0170 · 映画
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332 Chs

Audience

All the Asgardians were dressed in white, hurriedly carrying armfuls of vibrant flowers in one direction. Their expressions were heavy, as if they were mourning someone.

This doesn't make sense. In the original story, the Queen of the Gods was supposed to die, but she didn't. Who are they mourning?

Zane focused his gaze in the direction they were heading. Far in the distance, in the void beyond Asgard, a massive arena had appeared, along with countless floating seats. A sea of flowers floated beneath the arena, and hundreds of dwarf craftsmen were busy engraving defensive arrays and reinforcing the platform.

Zane's brow furrowed immediately as he began to suspect what was happening. He followed his instinct and looked toward a high observation deck in Asgard, where he saw an elderly figure also looking in his direction.

The next moment, Zane vanished from where he stood and reappeared beside Odin.

"Old man, what kind of trouble are you stirring up now?" Zane asked, frowning.

At this moment, Odin, looking quite relaxed, had none of the majesty of a god-king. Gugnir, which he usually never let go of, was casually placed on the ground. He was dressed in a robe, intently watching the beautiful scenery of Asgard below.

"Come, sit down, you brat," Odin replied with a kind smile, patting the ground next to him.

Without hesitation, Zane plopped down beside him. The two sat there in silence, quietly watching Asgard and the arena being constructed in the distance, saying nothing for a long time.

"Have you made up your mind?" Zane asked suddenly.

"I have. Everyone has to die eventually, so why not go out with a bang? And don't be too confident. You might not be the one standing in the end," Odin said casually, his eyes still fixed on the land he had lived in for thousands of years. His tone was light, as if he were discussing something that didn't concern him at all.

A faint smile slowly appeared on Zane's face as he leaned back, lying down on the ground. He gazed up at the deep blue sky above Asgard and the infinite cosmos beyond.

"I thought having a grandson would make you postpone our battle," Zane said with a squinting smile. "By the way, old man, don't you want to see your grandson?"

For a brief moment, a flicker of longing and reluctance passed through Odin's eye, but he slowly shook his head. "I do, but I might not live long enough for that. And even if I do, seeing him might make me not want to die."

"Old man, you're really contradictory," Zane chuckled as he lay on the ground.

Odin wasn't bothered by Zane's teasing and continued to gaze at Asgard below. After all, every glance now truly counted.

The next moment, Zane sat up abruptly and pointed at the arena being constructed. "Who will be watching?"

"My family and the rulers of the other realms," Odin replied.

"Not enough. For a man like you, having just a few washed-up fish to witness your death isn't nearly enough," Zane said, a fierce battle spirit suddenly igniting in his eyes.

At the same time, Odin turned his one eye toward Zane, and the battle spirit within him erupted like an avalanche.

"Boy, don't be so sure it'll be me who dies."

"Don't forget, I may be old, but I'm still the King of the Gods!"

Odin's powerful voice echoed through the air.

After a moment of staring at each other, both he and Zane burst into laughter.

"You rascal, who else do you want to invite to watch the battle?" Odin asked curiously.

But Zane didn't answer directly. Instead, he gave a mysterious smile.

"Don't worry about that. Just make sure to expand the arena tenfold; we might have quite a crowd."

With that, he teleported away, leaving Odin alone, quietly gazing at Asgard.

Sometime later, Queen Frigga appeared beside Odin, silently resting her head on his shoulder, and they sat together, leaning on each other.

The sunset cast its golden light on them, their hunched shadows merging into one…

Five days later, Queen Frigga personally dressed Odin in his armor. Just as she had done for thousands of years, she carefully adjusted his attire for battle. But beneath her calm exterior was a deep well of sorrow.

Her husband was leaving.

Odin looked down at Frigga, who was silently tending to his armor, and suddenly said, "All these years, you've had it tough."

Frigga could no longer suppress the overwhelming emotions surging within her. Tears streamed down like rain as she embraced Odin, though she made no move to stop him. This was the reason she got along so well with Lorna—they were both women who were deeply devoted, supporting their men without reservation.

Odin gently patted Frigga's back, comforting her, "I'm old now. My body and my views can't keep up with this rapidly changing era. It's time for me to step down. Asgard needs a new king, and with you here, I have no worries. I'll go ahead and pave the way for you. When you arrive, you'll still be the queen."

With those words, he patted her shoulder and strode out the door. His once slightly hunched back was now straighter than ever, showing no signs of age or weakness.

At the same time, Zane, clad in armor and crowned, holding the Reaper's Scythe, stepped out of his room.

Meanwhile, tens of thousands of spaceships arrived from all corners of the universe, surrounding the now completed enormous arena. Thousands of beings from different races disembarked from their ships, wearing simple spacesuits as they took their seats at the edge of the arena. However, they only sat at the farthest end—they were the leaders of various civilizations, coerced by the Reaper Alliance to attend.

Next, a portal shimmering with orange sparks suddenly appeared in the void. The Sorcerer Supreme, Ancient One, stepped out gracefully. Her eyes, as if they could see through everything, scanned the entire arena before she took a seat at the front.

She was soon followed by the giant purple Thanos, who had received the Death Alliance's invitation, along with the Collector and his brother, the Grandmaster. After surveying the layout of the arena, they made the same choice as the Ancient One, confidently walking to sit beside her. The eccentric Collector bowed deeply to the Ancient One.

"Honored Sorcerer, may I have the privilege of collecting your body after you pass?"

The Ancient One chuckled but didn't respond.

The more reserved Grandmaster smiled at the Ancient One but said nothing as he deliberately moved far away from the Collector.

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