I sit upon my throne of nothingness, looking down upon this colossal amusement park known as the "Horror Game." They believe this is a desperate fight for survival, an unceasing livestream of death. But little do they know, this is nothing more than a sandbox I casually built to pass the time throughout the endless ages. I took the greed, fear, and desire of the mortal world and magnified them infinitely, transforming them into bizarre and grotesque instances. I watch those humans, who fancy themselves clever, struggle and collapse within my rules, ultimately degenerating into nourishment to amuse me. Yet that is still not enough. Pure slaughter and despair are far too dull; what I need is a true masterpiece. And so, I tore away a piece of my own flesh, blood, and soul, casting it into over six hundred worldlines. His name is Bai Liu—an unemployed wretch in the real world, destitute and pathologically obsessed with money. He appears so mediocre, so fragile, like an ant that could be crushed underfoot at any moment. Yet he is my perfect vessel: the purest humanity left after stripping away divinity. I watch him scrimp and calculate before monsters for a mere handful of points; I watch him buy his teammates' souls with cold, ruthless calculation; I watch him step, one stride after another, into the Rose Factory and the Loving Welfare Institute that I meticulously designed for him. He thinks he is exploiting the rules, thinks he is mastering fate, utterly oblivious to the fact that every single time he arrogantly breaks the game, every clutch turnaround on the brink of death, unfolds right before my eyes. I gave him love, gave him friends, gave him those burdens known as "bonds"—things I cast aside long ago. Because I know that only by once possessing them can he, when he finally takes my throne, experience that exquisite agony of plummeting from the clouds straight into the mud. The game has begun, and the marionette has taken the stage. With a smile, I await the moment he, through endless cycles of reincarnation and torment, sheds his former self and completely transforms into me. I look forward to him crowning me with the wreath of supreme power using those very hands drenched in blood and deceit. After all, in such a grand deification ceremony, how could we possibly lack the protagonist's desperate, mesmerizing struggle?
I stripped away divinity and bestowed upon you weakness, greed, and love. I look forward to you killing me with these burdens, just as I look forward to you finally wearing my crown.