Hawke is an ordinary construction worker in his fifties.
The capital planet was a highly developed city, having undergone centuries of development and expansion. There were few secret areas unexplored by humanity through technological advancement. Therefore, it was not unimaginable that key areas of the planet were covered in high-rise buildings. In Hawke's decades of work experience, the land under his feet fell into only two categories: those already purchased by a certain boss, and those about to be purchased.
This time, he worked in an unfinished building area that had been abandoned for nearly four or five years.
Hawke was indifferent to the architectural achievements he and his colleagues were about to complete; they had nothing to do with him. Rather than some tycoon's sudden whim to build villas and commercial districts in all sorts of uninvited places, this ordinary citizen, caught up in a midlife crisis, was more concerned with the tabloids' haphazard analysis of the impact of the war's cessation on prices.
It was only at lunchtime with his fellow workers that Hawke overheard them discussing a rumor he had caught from a conversation between a more senior architect and the contractor:
"I heard that the person who bought this land and built a house was a doctor."
"Doctor? He's really rich! I thought he was some coal boss from out of town who wanted to invest in real estate."
"It's absolutely true. There might be some messed-up business going on there," the speaker speculated maliciously. "This house is probably worth millions... no, tens of millions of star coins. I wouldn't be able to get that much even if I robbed a bank right now."
"Do you think ordinary doctors' salaries are so high?"
"...could be a noble from the capital," another person said uncomfortably. "After all, they're considered upper-class society. Let's keep our mouths shut."
“…”
Hawke held his lunch box silently and did not join their conversation.
His thoughts drifted from his daily salary of a few dozen yuan, to the increasingly outrageous vegetable prices recently, and then to his little daughter crying at home and saying she wanted a new skirt like her classmate's... Suddenly, the man's eyes widened.
For a moment, he saw a black and white eye without eyelashes growing out of the dark green barrier surrounding the construction site.
Hawke's heart skipped a beat. He raised his hand to rub his face and looked at that position again.
The metal plate was empty except for a small advertisement that someone had spray-painted on it last night.
...Maybe I've been too tired these past two days, he couldn't help but think. A few coworkers were still clamoring behind him, and the warm, comfortable sunlight from above greatly alleviated Hawke's fear and dread of the bizarre scene he had just witnessed. He shrugged, laughing at his own fuss, and tossed his clean plastic lunchbox into the trash.
There was a faint rustling sound behind him, as if some rats had taken this opportunity to ambush around the garbage dump, ready to rush in and search for food after the humans left.
No one cares about these trivial things in life.
**
Azathoth is a sociopath, a lazy guy, and a total otaku (he refuses to admit these points himself), but one of his strengths is that he will resolve anything he sets his mind to in a swift and decisive manner.
Because Dr. Garcia had the privilege of being an observer, he simply asked the stunned man, "Do you have any ideas?"
Garcia stammered in disbelief, "W-what?"
"A house," Azathoth said, "If you want to live in the capital for a long time, you can't live under someone else's roof like you do now."
Poor Ford Hill, although he was an unqualified cultist, he had to contribute several properties under his name... It was because he knew the identities of Azathoth and Igor, and he happened to be young and promising and had accumulated a large amount of assets.
The gods will not treat him unfairly, although Mr. Commentator may not be willing to accept the protection of Azathoth.
However, ever since he dealt with Erica's identity, Ford immersed himself in his work and never asked about the operations here again. He had the mentality of an ostrich who could just bury his head in the sand and pretend nothing happened.
Garcia's importance as Igor's trusted friend is demonstrated at this moment.
Of course, Igor had the money to buy the house; it just took some time to transfer it to Garcia's account unnoticed.
So what happened next became a matter of course. Garcia, who had no reason to refuse, chose a suitable location in the capital. If nothing went wrong, it would be completed and ready for occupancy in about a month, which would be early November.
This is the convenience brought by technological development.
As for Igor's leg and the "divine remains" buried in Wendy's body who arrived later, Garcia did not dare to draw conclusions easily due to the lack of professional equipment.
"The only thing I can guarantee is that Wendy's spine isn't her original one." The doctor took a deep breath, making his belly less noticeable. "Igor, your case is easy. An X-ray will reveal the foreign object. At first glance, it looks like just an animal's finger bone... But I don't dare remove it right away. I'm not a mechanical expert, and I can't guarantee that your leg will function the same after I remove it."
He seemed a bit timid in front of Azathoth, but since this concerned his friend's safety and his professional field, the man holding the high position of dean spoke with a bit more spirit. "If possible, I suggest you contact Capital Hospital or a federally recognized research institute. They should at least be able to remove the finger bone without damaging the other parts."
Igor asked Azathoth to ask on his behalf: "If I give you the relevant equipment, can you do it?"
Garcia didn't make an immediate promise, but said cautiously, "Perhaps, but it requires that your legs have a structure similar to your native limbs."
As a result, the problem was quickly resolved.
Hugo: "Let me do it!"
It was invited to Garcia's house while Erica was in school. It observed the structure of the mechanical legs with great interest. When it turned around, it saw the St. Martin bird nestled on Azathoth's shoulder.
"Wow." The android sighed in admiration as Garcia looked at him suspiciously. He took the surrounding equipment without hesitation. Because of his short stature, he had to look up at Igor. "Do you just want to take it out? Are you interested in doing some interesting modifications?"
The chirping of a gray bird and Garcia's question rang out at the same time.
"Who are you talking to?" The doctor looked at Hugo, who was not even as tall as his elbow, and then glanced at the bird he was looking at. Thinking of the scene of Azathoth talking to this furry creature, an incredible and unscientific idea gradually emerged in his mind.
"Of course it's my brother." Wendy said as she sat aside, holding a cup of hot tea.
She had been here for no more than twelve hours and was meeting Hugo for the first time. She looked at this little boy, who was trusted by Azathoth but looked unremarkable, with curiosity.
In Wendy's mind, Azathoth was basically the same as any villain in a horror story in a fairy tale. Naturally, anyone who came into contact with him would have a green face and fangs, black aura all over his body, and his skin would be covered with tumors and pus... But first of all, the fact that Azathoth had a human appearance surprised and relieved her.
That’s great, my brother’s boyfriend isn’t a tentacle…or rather, more than one tentacle.
Hugo satisfies everyone's fantasy of a cute and beautiful little boy.
He was wearing a tracksuit that was ordinary in style but obviously high quality and worth a lot of money. His soft black hair fell by his ears, his red eyes were clear and innocent, and his fair face was still a little chubby. This was a child who could be praised as a "little angel" when he was not talking.
And he looks mysteriously a bit like Igor.
Wendy fell into deep thought.
As for Garcia, he has been exhausted by the series of unexpected situations in the past two days.
Of course the doctor had met Wendy before... He was a few years older than Igor, and looked at his friend's sister as an older brother or even a father. He was sad for a long time after Wendy disappeared, and he never expected that when she came back five years later, she would become quite different from what he remembered.
He did not see the tentacles of Azathoth and the return of Igor's other half of his soul, so he is the only ordinary person so far who still firmly believes that Igor is just unconscious.
But now he can no longer firmly believe in his materialistic ideas.
Wendy's matter-of-fact words struck the doctor like a bolt of thunder.
He opened his mouth wide and stared at the bird on Azathoth's shoulder for a while, then turned his head to look at 'Igor' lying on the bed with his eyes closed... No wonder Wendy Sullivan always talked to the bird when she came back. He thought these people had contracted some quirks that ordinary people couldn't understand!
Wendy was speechless for a while at Uncle Garcia's slowness in this regard.
As for Hugo, after receiving Igor's response and Azathoth's "don't mess around" look, he dropped his screwdriver and nonchalantly walked back to the bedside. He reached directly towards the spot where Garcia had marked "phalanges." Garcia was startled and subconsciously asked, "What are you doing?"
"Fix it," Hugo muttered, "It's really hard on a child's body at a time like this."
Isn't this a normal little boy?
Wendy's mind instantly connected, drawing parallels between the ancient Western legends of liches and Eastern theories of possession. It made sense, then, why would an evil god be accompanied by ordinary, unremarkable people? She nervously and inconspicuously moved away from Hugo, realizing that this would bring her closer to Azathoth.
Calm down! Wendy! Brother Igor is still on the shoulders of the evil god! But think about it, she had just escaped from what others thought was a hell, and in the blink of an eye, she ended up in what looked like a cult base. And her brother not only had no intention of escaping, but had even become a high-ranking cult member and a follower of the evil god... Thinking of this, Wendy accepted the setting with a bit of despair.
Let’s just call her a cultist. Wendy is no longer the little Omega girl who just cries when things get difficult. Her adaptability is amazing, otherwise she wouldn’t be alive today.
Then again, Shirley Joyce really shouldn't have bought her every book she wanted.
The androids didn't know what they were thinking. Their minds were filled with countless brilliant ideas, hundreds of scenes from ancient science fiction flickering through their databases. If Igor agreed, Hugo could transform his leg into a wondrous device only imaginable. They had no lack of ability, creativity, or funds, but they simply couldn't convince Azathoth to release his followers for their experiments.
So Hugo could only honestly remove the finger bone of an unknown creature from the mechanical leg and put it back together again. This was not difficult for the android and was even a bit boring.
After Igor has checked and found no problems, you can resume using it as usual.
Garcia watched its skillful and impeccable movements, lost in confused thoughts about life.
Who am I and where am I?
Is this the legendary mechanical genius?
How could a little boy's repair skills be so impressive? Or was it that what I saw in front of me wasn't a new weapon bionic prosthesis from the Federal Supreme Research Institute, but a Lego toy bought from a store?
Before he could figure out what was going on, the dagger that Azathoth had placed at his side suddenly moved the moment his finger bones were exposed to the air.
It didn't dare rely on scratching its master to enhance its presence, as it had done with Bishop Gilbert. Under Azathoth's gaze, it couldn't act rashly. The dagger's red light flickered for a few seconds, and with its surprising elasticity for a metal object, it leaped into the teacup in front of Wendy, dipping it in the water and writing on the coffee table:
"Revered God... could you please give me that finger bone that is of no use to you?"
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