I look back at Pain. He doesn’t seem to find the question odd in the slightest. Before I can make up my mind on whether or not to verbally explain to him in the strongest words I can muster why this question is way too personal to put in front of this audience of insects, the answers pop up.

A.) He’s doing good.

B.) Recently picked up a new hobby playing the flute.

C.) Never been worse, suffers daily nightmares, has unwillingly taken a leadership position.

D.) Recently married.

Hah, this one’s so easy I don’t even have to think it over in the least!

I press the A button.

A harsh bzzzzz explodes across the scene and the screen lights up in a bright, deadly RED. Wh—what did I—

“Uh oh, wrong answer! That’s a shame. Better luck next time!”

N—no, wait, which answer was right? Was it B? I can see him playing the flute, but I think it’s more unlikely that he’d get married, he didn’t exactly seem like the romantic type, but you never know with people, no matter how closely you know them they can always change their minds, so…

“Here comes question eight, good luck!” Pain says as he points to the screen with a flourish.

The question blinks into existence. Where the heck do these questions come from?

Hm. So you’re telling me that I only have two opportunities left to get the one question I really need to have answered pop up? Is that it? How useful. I hate this world.

The answers show up less than a second later.

A.) The God of Pain makes them up on the fly.

B.) They mirror questions asked to the other Difficulty Administrators by previous challengers.

C.) They are decided by the fireflies doing a vote.

D.) They are ripped wholesale from your mind, memories and thoughts.

Hm. Okay, uh… Getting this right means that I’ll know better how to manipulate the questions that pop up better in the future. If I get it wrong, it won’t get answered at all. Right. My whole life is one big scam and I’m the sucker at every turn.

It wouldn’t be weird to assume that Pain has seen everything I’ve done for the past floors, but I also don’t think he’d purposefully use my own verbal mannerisms. That’s just plagiarism, and I am not shy to sue.

I don’t think other challengers have asked about how a single goblin in Purgatory is doing, especially not Simel personally.

The fireflies, despite being angels, are still insects and therefore can’t know me personally.

I press the D button. The screen flashes with green and I sigh in relief. This means that I have a way of getting the question I want. I only have two left. I need to make them good ones.

“Nice one! Indeed, the questions get dragged straight out of your lovely mortal brain. To say that I can read your thoughts, as you put it, would be disingenuous, but not entirely false. I simply understand your intention, and by comprehending your brain’s simple structure, I’m able to add your mannerisms to be able to read approximately what you’re thinking!”

That’s way too convoluted to be true.

“It isn’t!”

I blink. W—wait. So, you’ve, um… You could understand me this whole time? All of it?

“Pretty much!”

…Uh. Okay, um, that’s, ah… I think I’m going to ignore that? Y—yeah. Let’s. I mean, if this was true for every god, it would mean that no matter where I am or what I’m doing, they are constantly peeking into my head. Sure, I had a feeling that that might have been the case, but to have it spelt out like that, face-to-face, is completely different.

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“I can imagine that,” Pain says with a sagely nod. I almost want to tear his face off but he could easily counter it, what with the mind-reading and all. “Though, since you’ve been such a good sport, I might as well mention that the more divinity you hold, the harder it will be for Us to understand your brain. But I don’t mean Our divinity. Even if you were at level five hundred, since your divinity comes from Us, We would still understand you. But that shard of the God of Kings’ divinity that you consumed earlier is a whole different story. It wasn’t much, but it’s already making your brain slightly more indecipherable. Not much, but if you continue to do us favours in killing the God of Kings’ heralds… Who knows?”

His smile turns enigmatic, but all I hear is that the more purple goo I eat, the more privacy my brain will have. It’s like a VPN, but for your lobes. Interesting!

“And now, onto our penultimate question!”

H—huh? Wait, shoot, um, I need to send out my brain waves as hard as I can! Apostle, apostle, apostle, apostle…!

The question appears on the screen with a fun, colourful graphic. What is an apostle?

I gulp. Okay, sure, this isn’t a bad question, but I don’t need to know what it is to be able to be it. While I’m still reeling over the fact that I only have one chance left, the answers quickly appear.

A.) A mortal whose form has been flooded with a God’s divinity to the point where they lose their individuality to become a perfect servant of the God.

B.) A God briefly taking the form of a mortal to act physically.

C.) A mortal granted a fraction of a God’s power in return for their contractual servitude.

D.) A mortal who acts in the name of a God to further Their desires.

…Okay, this one’s a bit complicated. Hrm. I doubt it’s B since nothing I got from Want or Coward suggested that they would be the ones doing anything. I don’t think it’s D either. Tonnes of mortals do stuff in the names of various gods, but that doesn’t really make them apostles, specifically. It’s either A or C, then.

I think it’s C, because I’ve got a hunch that A just so happens to perfectly describe a different sort of divinely sponsored being.

Namely, that herald. If that purple goop was divinity, then it was beyond flooded with it. It also had no individuality to speak of, and frequently spoke as though it considered itself to be the God of Kings. It matches up. And if A describes what a herald is, then there’s only one real option left.

My finger flicks the C button.

Green floods the stage and the fireflies give a teeny tiny applause.

“That’s exactly it! Gee, you sure do know your stuff, huh? It’s almost like you didn’t need to wish for information at all, haha!” Pain jokes. At least, I think it’s a joke. I don’t know for sure, but I really hope it is. If he’s telling the truth, then I’m using my next wish to ask him to take an acid bath and dry himself off with sandpaper. “Well, boys and girls, angels and mortals, we’ve finally reached the last and final question for the night! The tension is palpable. Will our most favourite challenger answer the most important question in life, or will his hopes and dreams be squashed right before his moral eyes? Let’s have a look!”

A—already? Hang on, I haven’t cleared my brain yet! I need to meditate before you—

The final question flashes onto the screen.

Whose apostle should I become?

“Now that’s a spicy question!” Pain exclaims, his face one big grin. “Before we let our dearest challenger see the options and give his answer, I feel that it is most opportune for Me to mention that in this space, no Gods other than Myself and the Goddess of Pleasure are able to see what is happening. You are free to make whatever arguments you please without fear of the possible repercussions. Now, onto the answers!”

Before my eyes, four choices pop up, staring me down like brands of fire.

A.) The Goddess of Want.

B.) The God of Cowardice.

C.) Both.

D.) Neither.

It’s exactly the question I was hoping to be brought up, but now that I think about it, this actually doesn’t help me in the least. I don’t know the answer to this. That’s why I wanted it to pop up. But if I don’t answer it correctly, I won’t receive any answer at all. I have a twenty-five per cent chance of getting it correct. That’s it.

This game is rigged. I have no choice but to knowingly go with a choice that may be wrong for the sake of seeing what might be true.

But this does reveal something important. Namely, it is possible to choose both, and to reject both. I don’t know what this does, though. The description of what an apostle was didn’t directly state that a mortal could only be the apostle of one god, but it also didn’t say anything about being able to follow several ones. Then again, from what I’ve seen and what Pain has said, all of the gods of Purgatory are technically just one god. I have no idea how that’s supposed to work, but that might mean that since the divinity given by two gods is the same, it might be doable. However, if receiving the divinity of two gods is too much, then I may just literally burst and become a herald.

This is way too complicated and I don’t get anything, but… I mean, if the purpose of the tutorial is to make us receptacles of divinity, then isn’t there a chance that—unlike goblins—I could become an apostle of two gods? On that note, if it wasn’t possible, then they wouldn’t both have suggested it, right? I mean, they’re gods. Shouldn’t they be smart?

I glance over at Pain where he stands, staring at me with that big, goofy grin.

…Okay, I’ve changed my mind. Smart would be the last word I’d use to describe any divine entity. If they were smart, they wouldn’t be against me.

In that sense, the argument is less so a matter of whether I can or can’t choose both, but more so if I should. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, heh, but, um… These two gods in particular kind of hate each other? If I accept both, I might just get slapped in the face with them deciding to fight over me like two kids with a doll, each giving me more divinity than my body can hold, with the eventual outcome being that I get ripped apart in the process. Sure, you could call that a nightmare scenario, but the fact of the matter is that any interaction I have with these literal gods is always mere words away from my death.

This god of pain guy is no different. Sure, we’re amicable right now, but if he wanted to, he could literally make me feel so much pain that I wouldn’t even have time to bite my own tongue before the sensation short-circuited my brain. The only reason I’m not actively panicking is because if he wanted to kill me, I’d already be dead. Also, he looks like the mascot for a knockoff Nytol. How can I possibly take that seriously?

To return to the subject at hand, what I really need to know right now is whether or not I should accept this at all. Getting divinity from a god would be cool if the gods themselves weren’t such doofuses. Additionally, the idea of being in their servitude makes me physically violent.

With all of this combined, there’s only one button I can possibly press.

I slap my hand down on the D button.

Neither.