"Next!" one of the four guards yelled out, even though Samuel was standing two meters from him. It didn’t make much sense, but it gave further grounds and legitimation to his forceful entry. If the guards held no qualms towards being pieces of shit, then neither would he.

Samuel walked toward the guard accepting the entrance fees. He was a big man, towering at over 2 meters tall and built like a truck. His arms were bigger than Samuel's thighs, greatly emasculating him. How was this common guard, much weaker in cultivation, so superior to him in intimidation? Samuel, despite being capable of erasing the entire city from the annals of history, cowered slightly before him.

"Ten spirit stones and identification," the hulking guard demanded, clearly not one to take no for an answer. However, you know what they say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Samuel’s indescribable aura soon erupted. He was not looking to harm ordinary people, and therefore directed his dampened pressure onto the four guards before uttering, "How about I let you live if you allow me entry?"

It did not work. Despite kneeling on the enhanced bluestone pavement, the guard looked unrelenting. Restricted by oaths and laws, he was duty-bound to go through the proper procedures, no matter their power or status. Samuel’s attempt failed. Something he realized after two minutes passed without the guard responding to his demand. The only sounds in the area were the shocked gasps and whispering from the stunned line of people behind him. Samuel royally embarrassed himself. His threat was empty in the first place, and the intimidation factor he was relying on failed. Embarrassment went to his cheeks, reddening them before he bolted into the city without permission, simply to escape the humiliation.

Using his speed, he snuck into an alleyway before altering his appearance with By Creation, becoming a wholly different individual. The previously pitch-black hair became a foul kind of purple, his eye color turned green, his stature decreased to 180 cm, and his build became meeker. His robe was too conspicuous, so despite not wanting to, he placed it inside his inventory rune, and adorned his old robe. Despite the robe’s cheap appearance, his new look was that of a dandy. No sane person would connect this dandy with the hardened badass at the gate. Except for his stalker, of course.

With added embarrassment on his ever-extending list of achievements, Samuel walked out the other end of the alley. The layout of the city was incredulously lousy, connecting two parallel main streets through alleyways stolen directly from some horror story. Paying it no head, Samuel merged with the crowd, letting the flow control his movements. Wherever the current brings him, is where he’ll go.

Using his superior senses, Samuel listened in on the myriad of conversations around him, in hopes that someone would mention a hotel. To his dismay, most of the conversations veered in the direction of his greatest enemy: tournaments. Turns out this quaint city was actually the founding city of Gol, the mightiest kingdom on the planet. Many of the greatest and most powerful younglings on the continent were gathering to compete for honor at the behest of the king. Samuel, due to his immeasurable intellect, deduced the flock of experts would likely occupy the different hotels in the city, leaving him little selection.

Since listening in didn’t help much, and the presumable lack of available rooms, Samuel decided to eat first instead. Something he could source quickly due to his sense of smell. The nearest restaurant was located at the other end of the street, no more than 500 meters away. Due to the flock of ever-changing people, the walk was longer than expected, but not unwelcome. Since he would be unable to find a place to sleep in the near future, he’d welcome any opportunity for stimulation.

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Reaching his target, he was greeted with an unreasonably large sign in a language unknown to him. Samuel noticed most realms, worlds, and universes conversed with the same language, but the written versions always varied. In this instance, he could hear through the silencing formation of the restaurant that its name was Little Way. However, what was written on the sign was gibberish. Incoherent scribbles with randomized reading directions that most definitely did not say Little Way. Redirecting his overflowing annoyance at such nonsense to what truly matters, Samuel was about to enter the restaurant when he remembered the most important thing of his entire life: he doesn’t have any money. Not wanting to repeat the last restaurant situation, and definitely not the gate incident, he opted for earning some money first.

With his current appearance, it would further his embarrassment not being able to pay. Samuel, therefore, began to think till his brain quacked. The fastest way to earn money would be gambling, a prosperous market within the city. The problem was he needed money to earn money there, so he needed some capital first. He could use his power to complete some missions, rob people, find materials to sell, or win them through different activities around the city, but most of those required utilizing his powers, which he realistically wanted to avoid. He was clueless why he acted so foolishly earlier, but definitely did not want it to repeat. The options thus became narrower.

Turning his gaze onto the ocean of people, he noticed they all wore tiny spatial distortions on their fingers. Not a single individual was without one, while some has multiple. However, his false believer earlier did not wear one, and Greg’s prayer did not contain any misgivings about having his spatial ring stolen. So, where was it? The robe was without pockets; its only downside, so it was not there. Could he have missed such easy rewards back in the forest? No, he scoured the location upon arrival. Could he really be foolish enough to transport all his assets in carriages? Greg was weird and weak, but did not strike him as the type to welcome robbery. He was meticulous. The prayer he used, the way he phrased everything, would be capable of manipulating those gods who lost themselves to the technique. The infinite whispers were not so easily stomached, making them easy targets to indirectly control. Samuel was not one of those deities, so it didn’t work, but the intent and potential were there. Meaning, Greg somehow, even in death, managed to snub him of riches.

"Damn."

...

In a nice log cabin, a fuming youth awoke. "What the fuck!? All those years to die a few months before completion? What even killed me?" The youth tried to calm down by slowing his breath, but to no avail. Decades spent stuck as a mortal grinding his ass off, flushed down the toilet. Due to the poor nature of the planet he chose on accident, the mission required much longer than one singular year. Yet he held strong, knowing the reward would be sufficiently awesome. Greg’s life as a merchant was great, filled with fortune and luck. He encountered few roadblocks or hindrances, mostly cruising along to the next city in search of coin. Still, one day, one measly day took it all away from him. Instead of getting revenge on his robbers, he somehow died. It turns out his luck had a price, one too great to pay. Were it not for his reincarnation talent, he’d have truly perished due to a random happenstance.

After a few minutes, Zhong Greg managed to recollect his bearings. "Deceive the ones you pray to, huh? Did a deity discover my deception? However, that should be impossible. My technique, especially after the last mishap, was polished to perfection. No such mistakes should happen any longer. Those dastardly, mindless, husks of lost intelligence in the Nothingness are incapable of these kinds of actions, lest someone prayed for my downfall with genuine reason. Yet, none of the inhabitants of that planet are powerful enough to project their wishes over great distances. Hmm..." Greg was unable to find reason in what ended his life. But one thing was for certain; he would get his revenge! Being one of the most powerful beings in the universe was not for show.