Kang Woo only smiled, watching the group's mixed reactions like a spectator at his own circus.
Makima rubbed her temple slowly, her patience thinning by the second. Kang Woo's offhand statement — that he had brought Denji back from the dead— was nonsense, of course. And yet… she smiled anyway. Because every time he opened his mouth, chaos followed. And chaos, in its own way, was exciting.
Kishibe gave a long, tired sigh. "Kang Woo," he said, voice dry, "I think you need a therapist. Whatever emotional damage you've got might be contagious."
Aki crossed his arms. "I agree with Kishibe-san. Makima-san, please… make sure Kang Woo visits the nearest hospital. And preferably… doesn't come back."
Denji blinked, frowning, then leaned toward Kang Woo. "Wait. So, like… if I was dead, I wouldn't be alive now, right? I mean… nobody just comes back like that."
Kang Woo stood still as the translucent System window unfurled in front of his eyes — unreadable to anyone else in the restaurant.
[ Demon king Quest Activated ]
───── Road to Demon King's Return Quest ─────
Title: Ultimate Demonic Foundation
Objective:
Condition 1: Demonic Energy stat reaches 60.
→ (Fulfilled: Kang Woo's demonic energy is infinite.)
Condition 2: Perfectly merge three or more Authorities.
→ (Fulfilled: Kang Woo can is confident create Gáe Bolg via Merging Authorities.)
Condition 3: Form a demonic crystal above a certain size.
→ (Fulfilled: His demonic energy has begun rewriting parts of reality —. Kang Woo is confident he can create the required demonic crystal.)
Reward: Unknown
Black King's Note:
You've already completed the conditions before this quest officially began.
However… I offer a challenge.
Until you succeed in Condition 4, this quest will never be complete.
Condition 4 Title: Reenactment of the Quincy King's Resurrection { Kaiser Gesang}
(A feat similar to how Yhwach restored himself after death — or, if you wish, you may create your own resurrection rite.)
Objective:
You are a Demon King.
You already know what must be done.
Reward from the Black King:
Authority of Dreaming
Anos Voldigoad's Power Restriction lifted to 10%
Note:
You can accept this quest whenever you're ready — or choose No and receive the current reward, which is unsatisfying for someone like you.
Also, you are free to get creative. For example, if you complete the quest in one day, a Hidden Reward will be unlocked. Its contents remain a secret.
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Kang Woo barely blinked. With a single swipe of his hand, he brushed the interface aside like it was ash on glass. The gesture drew attention immediately.
Makima, who saw nothing but his gesture, tilted her head and smirked. "So. He's started waving at ghosts now. What's next? Lightsabers?" She leaned forward with a mocking glint. "Kang Woo, if you really are becoming a Jedi… and your sanity slips any further, you can always rely on me. I've got a whole shelf of restraints ready for therapy."
Kang Woo gave a soft chuckle, eyes half-lidded. "Sanity is overr—"
The sentence died halfway. The ground rumbled. A car alarm screeched outside. Pavement cracked. Somewhere nearby, a traffic light fell sideways, and a flock of crows shot out of the sky.
Denji dove under the table with a half-scream.
Aki was already crouched low, hand on his sword hilt.
Even the fluorescent lights above flickered as dust rained from the ceiling.
Kishibe exhaled with the resignation of a man long past being surprised. "I suppose your luck's acting up again, Kang W-"
He stopped mid-sentence. Kang Woo's eyes had shifted. The white sclera had vanished, swallowed in darkness, . . His eyes were locked onto the explosion site outside — and whatever thing had landed there.
Kishibe's hand subtly reached for a hidden knife. Without a word, a low hum filled the air.
From a tear in the air behind Kang Woo, his Doom Slayer Super Shotgun manifested .At the same time, Mikhail's eye flared wide on the back of Kang Woo's left palm .
Kang Woo's voice dropped into something razor-flat."You all stay here. Don't get out."
And just like that — he was gone. The doors burst open, he launched into the street with a predatory stride.
Aki slowly rose from cover, looking toward the open doorway. "...He barely acts like that even in front of Makima-san," .
Makima's eyes narrowed as she stepped closer to the shattered window, watching the trail of heat and pressure Kang Woo left behind. "That only happens when something disturbs his sleep."
The smoke cleared. And what stood in the cracked intersection wasn't a meteorite. It was a space cruiser.
Chrome-plated, jagged, half-embedded in the concrete with blue plasma still hissing from its undercarriage.
One of the ship's panels burst open with a hydraulic hiss.
A drunk, half-coherent Rick Sanchez stumbled out, coughing and swearing.
"What the fuck, Morty?! I told you not to press the glowing orange panel, you little shit!" he barked.
Behind him, Morty fumbled down the ramp, looking pale and panicked.
"Oh jeez, Rick! I-I didn't mean to! I just thought maybe, y'know, we could go to another dimension! Not crash into whatever this is!"
Before they could get another word out—
Kang Woo slammed the butt of his Super Shotgun into the ground. The force cracked the pavement in a perfect circle beneath him. He stepped forward slowly, eyes locked on both intruders like he was walking into a battlefield.
His voice cut "How the fuck did you two manage to travel here, huhhh?"
Rick sobered instantly, hands raised, voice jittering.
"Ho-ho, chill, alright? I don't even know where the hell this is, man. One minute we're cruisin' through temporal string clusters, the next, Morty bashes the nav panel with his elbow. I'm just gonna, uh, make some repairs real quick—"
Kang Woo's brow furrowed.
He blinked once — and the Authority of the Beholder activated. Energy surged through his eyes, reality folding back as status data streamed into view like glowing glyphs.
[ Scanning... ]
Target: Rick Sanchez
Status: Controlled
Abilities:
• Excellent Marksmanship
• Controlled Genius (bound intellect due to override suppression by external source)
• Reality-hacking gear installed
• Residual God Particle Radiation
[ Secondary Target: Identified ]
Name: Evil Morty
Occupation: Candidate of the Morty Party
Level: 30
First Awakened Trait: Mindwall Sovereignty (Rank: S)
Second Awakened Trait: Synthetic Cognition Engine (Rank: A)
Third Awakened Trait: Charisma of the False Messiah (Rank: A+)
Stats:
• Strength: 7
• Vitality: 7
• Agility: 18
• Health: ???
• Intelligence: 200
• Luck: 77
Abilities:
• Strategic Fatebend — Reality subtly alters to favor his plans. Does not apply to targets with immense mana.
• Master of Hacking
• Photographic Memory
• Hidden Cyborg Implant
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Kang Woo narrowed his eyes, shotgun barrel steady. it's not Rick C-137, he thought. That version would've been a pain in the ass , for my current level …
He shifted slightly, then pointed the Super Shotgun squarely at Morty's chest.
Rick flinched. "Heyyy—don't point that thing at my grandson, man. He's just a kid!"
Kang Woo full alert . "You sure you wanna keep this charade going? Or are we gonna talk, Evil Morty?"
The smile dropped from Morty's face.
A second later, his hand dipped into his pocket and pressed something — a button that let off a faint click. Rick's eyes rolled back instantly. His body locked up and dropped like a cut puppet, collapsing sideways into the smoking gravel.
Evil Morty posture was relaxed, too confident for a boy his age . "The Citadel say Rick C-137 once fought someone … stronger than anything he'd ever seen,"
Evil Morty, eyes scanning Kang Woo's every movement. "I never believed him. Thought it was one of his paranoid babbles from too much portal juice."
"But looking at you now — the pressure, the eyes, the way environment shifts just because you exist — yeah. You fit the description. You must be Oh Kang Woo."
Kang Woo didn't answer immediately. He stepped closer, the shotgun still lowered but pulsing with silent promise. Shadows rippled at his feet like waiting hounds.
"This place…" Kang Woo said slowly, "is outside the Central Finite Curve. The breach hasn't formed yet. The Void hasn't been punched through." His eyes glinted. "Which means you're here early. And you're still just a candidate for the Morty Party."
Evil Morty grinned. "The documents ere right about you , capable like meta-commentary were real, Guess Rick C-137 wasn't Exagerrated after all."
"Back when he built the Citadel… the original Citadel… he left behind one warning — only one, in a sealed black file nobody was supposed to open."
Evil Morty's voice deepened, repeating the exact phrasing like a sacred curse. "If you ever see a man with black hair, black sclera, and crimson pupil… run.. That person must be avoided at all costs. That person is more intelligent than all Ricks combined ."
Kang Woo tilted his head slightly, "How did you get here?". "I prefer honesty."
Evil Morty didn't flinch. He merely lifted his hand and pointed skyward.
A hole — jagged, pulsing with static and leaking violet light — had opened above the city. The edges shimmered, as if torn by something not meant to be named.
"I think you're partly responsible," Evil Morty said. "Your aura , whatever C-137 called it — flared earlier. It tore open a partial breach in this world's dimensional barrier. I… used everything I had to widen it. Just enough to slip through."
Kang Woo looked up. Shapes were falling..
Descending from the breach were Xenomorphs, crawling and hissing with acidic hunger — along with twisted aliens, malformed mutants, and known criminals from the Central Finite Curve, now fleeing a fractured reality.
Aki, watching from inside the restaurant, cursed under his breath. Kishibe silently raised a brow. Makima's eyes narrowed like drawn knives.
But Kang Woo had no time for them. He lifted his hand, and the shadows beneath his feet split. A pressure collapsed into the earth. Something massive stirred.
From the pavement rose Nightmare — a grotesque, titanic mass of blackened sludge and demonic steel., a semi-liquid beast of writhing density. Horn-like spikes coiled along its back. At its center, one giant, hellish eye flared open — white-hot with infernal intent.
Kang Woo raised his arm toward the sky.
His voice thundered in ancient tongue of abyssal command.
"Zil-khazar rakhul! Aresh-toradak ush'tur!
Lun'shaak al dur'nazarak… tal-korr vakraaz!"
(Translation:)
"Nightmare, rise and obey! Shatter the invaders! Capture their souls — feed them to me!"
Nightmare let out a low, bone-grinding gurgle. The asphalt shattered as its form split — chunks of its liquid mass severing and rising, twisting into floating drills, razor-tipped battering engines of raw demonic fury.
Like a swarm of flying battering rams, the fragments launched into the sky, drilling through air and screaming toward the alien descent. The Xenomorphs never stood a chance.
One drill punched clean through a shrieking alien skull, exploding it midair. Another ripped into a mutated raider, turning him into a spiral of blood mist. A third dismembered an armored mercenary in mid-flight before sucking the remains into a shadowed vortex.
Each soul, as ordered, was siphoned — absorbed through the black whirlpools of Nightmare's core, and quietly pulled into Kang Woo's . The sky filled with thunder, fire, and the metallic shrieks of devoured invaders.
Kang Woo already turning. "Come on, We'll talk inside."
Evil Morty brushed dust off his sleeve. "Hmph."
The two walked into the wrecked fried chicken restaurant like it was an ordinary lunch break. Rick's lifeless body still lay in the crater outside, forgotten.
Inside, the others turned.
Denji, wide-eyed and grinning, stepped up immediately, pointing at the boy in the yellow shirt like he'd just met a fellow anime protagonist.
"I'm Denji! A hybrid. Awesome, right?". "Didn't think Kang Woo had any crazy friends, but you look the part."
Evil Morty didn't even blink. With a hiss and a sharp click, a taser probe extended from a slot in his right wrist — a hidden cybernetic implant. Before anyone could react, he jabbed it straight into Denji's gut. Denji spasmed, eyes rolling back. Smoke curled from his teeth as he collapsed with a THUMP, twitching.
Kang Woo stepping past Denji's unconscious body . "I have very few friends,. And I'm sure it won't be Evil morty ."
He raised a hand lazily and traced in the air — drawing a glowing Zaiphon rune, jagged and angular, burning like lightning made of judgment.
[Don't interrupt me.
I'm talking with this yellow-shirt guy.
Except for Makima — though I'd prefer she didn't talk too much.
I never expected this one to show up.]
The symbols hovered above their heads, unblinking, radiating pressure.
Kishibe gave no comment — just took a slow drag from a cigarette, his expression unreadable.
Aki stepped slightly forward, hand hold his sword's hilt.
Makima said nothing, but her gaze flicked between Kang Woo and Evil Morty. Another one like Kang Woo, she thought. He doesn't belong here either… but something tells me . He's dangerous. And smart.
Kang Woo and Evil Morty took a seat across from each other at a nearby table. Neither looked relaxed. Neither smiled.
Evil Morty leaned slightly forward, his voice low, calculating. "Do these four people even know what's out th—"
Kang Woo's hand lifted an inch. "They're fine with what they have and what they know.". "That's it. Say one more word about anything that would make their minds deteriorate, and I'll make sure Operation Phoenix doesn't save your ass this time."
Evil Morty leaned back, unfazed. He understood that tone. A warning from a fellow architect of collapse.
Kang Woo's voice shifted back to casual, almost amused. "Don't tell me you came all the way here because you're almost losing the election." He tapped the air, drawing imaginary numbers with his finger.
"Retired General Rick's holding what… 35%?
Private Sector Rick around 21%?
The rest — scattered into 17% with the wackjob cultists and unemployed science-dropouts. You've still got a chance. Evil always finds its way."
Evil Morty, he pulled a compact eyepatch-shaped holoprojector from his wrist —, only gripped it like a blade — and clicked it open.
A flickering display lit the table, projecting updated vote analytics in clean glowing text:
Retired General Rick: 47%
Private Sector Rick: 47%
Morty Candidate (Total): 6%
Kang Woo raised one eyebrow. "...At least you've got 6%."
Evil Morty's eye twitched. He deactivated the display . "No, it's not good, I need to be at the lowest spot. Because if I'm at the absolute bottom… no one sees me coming.
He smiled then. Barely. "That's when I rig everything to be mine."
Kang Woo sat back slightly,. His crimson pupils flared once as the Beholder ticked in his head, analyzing tone, logic, ambition.
"...Those two Ricks," Kang Woo finally said, voice dry. "They're a little smarter than you expected, aren't they?"
Evil Morty gave a slow nod. "Yeah. The other three just talk about what they've got stored up in their brains — equations, tech stacks, recursive formulas. But those two?"
"They understand what the Citadel really is. That's why the other three got eliminated so early ."
Evil Morty placed both hands on the table, measured, calculating. " let's cut to it. What can I offer someone like you return to the Citadel and help me win?"
Kang Woo didn't blink. "The last thing I want,", "is to set foot on that festering crypt.".
"The Citadel is a tomb. Built by Ricks, for Ricks, on the backs of dead wife lover guy . It's a monument to a species that can't stop jerking itself off with invention and still wonders why it's always falling apart. It's been nothing but an arms depot since C-137 pulled his little stunt — teleporting the whole Citadel into a Galactic Federation blacksite prison. And if I'm not wrong... . You plan to destroy it."
Evil Morty's smile returned, faint and unsettling. "Eventually."
Then, slowly, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the eyepatch device again — this time laying it flat on the table and activating a wide-scale projection.
A ripple of classified documents, dimensional diagrams, and multiversal intel bloomed around them — screens and folders of real-time data on Ricks, Mortys, tech relics, Federation fail-safes, corrupted universe blueprints , and weapon-grade anomalies.
"You can pick whatever you want," Evil Morty said. "Tech. Knowledge. Files. Weapons. Schematics. Hell, even some minor Ricks under my control if you want cannon fodder. Consider it… a good gesture."
He made a point, eyes sharpening: "Everything. With two Citadel. And its presidency. Those belong to me."
Kang Woo didn't even look impressed. His eyes scanned the dozens of hovering holograms floating around the table, each one showcasing high-level Citadel intelligence, blacksite diagrams, stolen Federation tech, and dead Rick blueprints.
Then his gaze stopped.
Every file title read: "Booger AIDS_01," "Booger AIDS_02," "Booger AIDS_03"... and so on.
Kang Woo blinked once, lips twisting ever so slightly. "...Every file is titled Booger AIDS."
Evil Morty didn't flinch. He rolled his eyes instead, slumping into the seat.
"Blame the Ricks. Not me. That's why it's called the Citadel of Ricks — not exactly a shining beacon of professionalism."
Before Kang Woo could even respond, a new presence approached.
Makima stepped forward being curious . Her boots echoed lightly against the floor as she approached the table, expression unreadable but eyes clearly tracking every inch of Morty's projected data.
Evil Morty's body tensed instantly. His hidden wrist implants triggered. Micro-motors metallic tentacle-like arms hissed out halfway from beneath his sleeves, twitching like Dr. Octopus limbs ready to strike.
Kang Woo voice turned cold. "You do that …...and we'll have a very strained relationship ."
The metallic arms stopped mid-extension. Evil Morty took a shallow breath and retracted them slowly with a snap of muscle memory.
Makima tilted her head slightly, her voice soft but firm. "Evil Morty. Is that an alias or…?"
Morty gave her a long look. For the first time, his expression flickered into something like surprise.
"I'm surprised you can speak English . "Most Japanese I've met are prideful to a fault. And you're not exactly human, either. But I don't care."
His eyes shifted between her and Kang Woo. "As for Evil Morty… it's just what they started calling me. A label that stuck."
Then his tone changed —diplomatic. "But from now on… just call me Morty. You too, Kang Woo."
Kishibe, watching from his seat, exhaled a drag and finally spoke, voice low and gravelled.
"Ricks," he repeated. "You mean like… twins? So they're all named Rick?" Not surprising. Science types always get off on seeing copies of themselves."
Kang Woo leaned back slightly, his shotgun resting by the leg of the table, gaze still on Morty as he explained.
"I'll simplify it for you," he said. "Imagine hundreds — no, thousands of worlds scattered across space. Each one has its own version of that scientist. A man named Rick. And each Rick eventually figured out a way to travel through space and time. So they gathered. United. Built a city floating outside The World law."
"That's why they're called Ricks. a great adventure… shared between a grandfather and his grandson."
A beat of silence. Then Kang Woo added, tone just slightly amused:
"Most stories start with a lab coat and a beer. This one starts with a man who never stopped running from himself — and dragged the kid along for the ride."
Kishibe chuckled from his seat, flicking ash from the end of his cigarette.
"Sounds familiar. Like you, Kang Woo. Always said you got stranded in this world because aliens didn't like you and dumped you here."
Kang Woo. was already immersed in the holographic mess of floating files — each one still branded under the cursed naming convention: Booger AIDS.
His fingers moved with surgical disinterest until he paused at Booger AIDS_100.
[Prototype: Portal Pistol — Space Dinosaur Variant]
He tapped it once and flagged it, marking it for later use. It demanded biometrics — clearly a sentient or reactive design. Kang Woo held it aside, letting the file hover next to his right.
Then he kept digging.
Swiping through hundreds of corrupted project logs, failed weapon experiments, and absurd Rick blueprints, he stopped at Booger AIDS_1000. Curious. He pressed PLAY.
A drunken Rick — slurring, shirtless, and halfway seated on what looked like a collapsed food replicator — appeared, raising a flask and laughing.
"Good morning, losersss!" Rick burped. "Today I'm gonna show you how to age yourself like, one thousand years per hour."
He spun, holding up a vial of shimmering orange serum. "Of course, our good friend Uncle Slow can be weaponized too — as a serum, or even like, a grenade. Last time I tested it? Whole planet. Aged a civilization into nothing in 12 hours."
Kishibe furrowed his brows, unimpressed.
"What kind of idiot would want to age themselves?"
Evil Morty shrugged. "When Rick's drunk? Anything can happen."
Kang Woo didn't laugh. He narrowed his eyes, calculating something silently. Then he pointed at the vial diagram and said flatly: "I need that."
His voice was calm, final — like a war plan falling into place. "That'll help me on my way to victory."
Makima's expression usual composed stare broke for a second — surprise flickering through. "What are you trying to do… kill yourself?" she asked sharply.
Kang Woo didn't look at her.
Instead, he turned his gaze to Evil Morty — calm, exact, unwavering. "Deal… also with Zecht."
The moment the word left his mouth, the air between them vibrated.
A glowing magic circle erupted between the two — ancient and angular, lined with infernal glyphs and digital lines.
From its center, a cold, layered voice echoed outward:
"Zecht: Dual-Will Pact Formation. Two-way party agreement. Both sides may betray the other — But Consequences will be absolute. Do you agree, Morty?"
Evil Morty raised one brow but didn't hesitate.
"As agreement," he began, tone sharp and smooth like a political knife,
"—you help me become President of the Citadel. You can literally take anything you want. Tech. Resources. Personnel. With two exceptions: the Citadel itself… and my position. And one last clause: try not to destroy the whole damn place. Be civilized."
Kang Woo gave a thin smirk. "Deal."
The Zecht circle flared, casting harsh silver light across the room. A symbol etched itself into Kang Woo's cuff and into Morty's implant — a silent lock of ancient authority.
Makima stepped closer, her voice sharper now, her patience thinning again. "Kang Woo, you're reckless. What if Morty betrays you?"
Kang Woo stood calmly, watching the fading circle's light fade into the floor. "He won't," he replied without pause.
Then his eyes cut over to her, flat and controlled. "He needs me more than I need him. And now… he just gave me a shortcut."
Makima opened her mouth to respond but no words came. Instead, her thoughts moved faster than her tongue.
I have the Chainsaw Devil in my possession. The Devil erasure itself .
And ... the only one I truly fear is Kang Woo. That, Mikhail,... he's also not part of the world I control.
Then why… why do I feel this way watching him walk away? Why does it feel like—
She stopped herself. Her chest tightened. Her thoughts paused mid-step. She didn't realize it, but for the first time since her inception .And she didn't want him to leave.
Her voice softened — quiet, a crack at the edge of composure . "Kang Woo… will you leave this world?"
Kang Woo turned slightly, smirking faintly. "You planning to banish me? I thought you didn't like me."
Makima's composure cracked again. Just slightly.
"Of course not," she blurted — a little too fast, too forceful. Then she blinked and adjusted her stance, pretending it hadn't happened.
"Kang Woo," she said with professional detachment she didn't feel, "your asset as a chemist… especially your potential to create a new Compound V variant… is valuable. Public Safety Devil Hunters would be deeply thankful."
Before Kang Woo could answer, a ripple of shadow unfurled beneath his feet — cold and smooth like liquid obsidian.
From that black pool, Nightmare reemerged momentarily — its massive eye pulsing once with deep violet energy before it sank wordlessly back into Kang Woo's shadow, its work complete.
A system notification blinked across Kang Woo's vision:
[Notification]
— Collected Materials:
• Xenomorph DNA (Multiple Strains)
• Royal Xenomorph Egg (Viable)
• Miscellaneous Alien Biomatter
Status: Analyzation Required
Kang Woo blinked once, mentally dismissing the window as he felt the raw weight of Nightmare's harvest settle into his subspace.
The breach is closed for now , he thought, glancing toward the skyline where the rift had once burned.
Kang woo turned his gaze back to Evil Morty, who had been quiet, arms crossed.
"You also brought a way home, right?" Kang Woo asked,.
Evil Morty's brow lifted slightly. "If a Morty brought a portal gun into the Citadel, everyone would freak out," he said dryly. "So, no. I didn't bring one."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small spherical device, smooth and matte-black with faint blue lines pulsing under the surface. A pulse grenade — but not for combat. "This," he continued, holding it between two fingers, "is my own way."
He spun it once and pointed to the pin. "One pull — and this sucker sends me, my equipment, and of course you, right to the Citadel.. Zero registered trail."
He gave a smug glance. "No one will even know an unregistered traveler stepped foot there."
Kang Woo's eyes narrowed slightly, studying the grenade.
"And the Ricks? They won't be alerted if someone besides a Rick or Morty shows up?"
Morty snorted. "Right now?" He leaned back, tone cynical. "They're desperate. C-137 Rick teleported the entire Citadel into a Galactic Federation blacksite. We're technically still on the run. The whole place is half-wrecked, half-panicked. You could show up wearing Demon's skull and I doubt anyone would blink.."
Kang Woo's gaze drifted —to stood there quietly, arms crossed. Her composure was still intact, still calculated — but barely.
He could see lips twitched like she wanted to speak, to object, to say something like "stay"...
But nothing came out.
Ever since Kang Woo appeared — her sense of power, purpose, even control felt more... human. And it terrified her.
Kang Woo exhaled slowly, then turned to Morty. "Can one more person join?"
Makima blinked. "...Huh? Me?"
Kang Woo smirked. "Yes, you, Makima. Who else do you think I'd bring?" He waved dismissively.
"Kishibe? Please. He'd spend the whole trip drunk and quoting war poetry.
Aki? He's too straightforward. Himeno? . She's probably passed out under a futon swimming in cheap whiskey."
He looked at her dead-on. "Of course it's you."
Makima hesitated, voice quieter now. "...You sure? Me? I'm not qualified for this Citadel stuff."
Before Kang Woo could reply, Evil Morty leaned in and whispered beside him, tone low but sharp.
"I know what she is," he said. ". A Control Devil, to be precise."
"She doesn't have a mana signature,. Which, in their eyes, makes her… an invalid.."
Evil Morty's said aloud . "She doesn't understand it at all — not the multiverse, or even dimensional layering, you want to bring her?"
Kang Woo's gaze remained steady,. "Then I think it's time the denizens of this world understand just how small their world really is. They're still stuck here—circling in dust. It's time you had a great adventure, Makima."
Makima gave a small laugh. " I still heard it. I'll understand this multiverse and… dimensional layering, or whatever you call it."
Evil Morty rolled his eyes, tone dry. "No, you won't. That's the point. That's why no one travels through portals except Ricks and Mortys. Some of the files that show others have tried — some even made it — but very, very few people have ever come close to outlasting Rick in intelligence."
. "But I'm not talking about them."
Makima stepped forward anyway, standing beside Kang Woo without hesitation., her eyes now level with Morty's.
Kishibe exhaled deeply and grunted, cigarette nearly burned to the filter. "Finally. The two people I least wanted to share drinks with are gonna vanish without a trace. I hope you both get lost in a space somewhere. And never come back."
Aki, standing nearby, frowned, confused. "Makima-san… I don't understand English, but if you're leaving… who's going to lead?"
Makima looked over her shoulder, voice firm and practical. "You. Or Kishibe. Just pick."
Then she glanced at the old man. "Though… probably Kishibe. He's a captain. A veteran. You still have growing to do."
Kishibe took the final drag of his cigarette, let the ember fall to the floor, and crushed it under his heel. He looked at both of them. "Don't come back, Makima. Kang Woo."
The air settled into silence for a moment.
Then Evil Morty turned his gaze to Makima, thumb resting lightly on the pin of the pulse grenade. His eyes narrowed.
"...No regrets?"
Makima's expression didn't shift. She met his stare calmly. "Shouldn't you point that question at Kang Woo too?"
Evil Morty glanced sideways, then let out a short breath that was halfway between a scoff and a resigned laugh.
"Kang Woo doesn't do regret."
His voice lowered, eyes flicking toward Kang Woo now with something closer to respect — or fear, maybe both. "He's been through more portal jumps and dimension collapses than I've read reports about. If you're wondering why he doesn't take any of this too seriously — the Citadel, your Devil Hunter squads, your contracts and squads and borrowed devils — it's because to him?"
He looked back at her, dead serious. "You're all still kids. Wielding toy guns."
Morty's grip on the grenade tightened slightly. "He has experience you can't even imagine. He's the only one who managed to beat Rick C-137… and that's after Rick brought everything he had."
A faint click echoed from the pulse device. "And now you're stepping into his Journey ."
Makima tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "You keep mentioning this 'C-137'... is he really that infamous? That Rick?"
Evil Morty gave a short, humorless laugh as the numbers ticked down — 6, 5, 4…
"You've never even seen a mid-grade Rick fight. , C-137?" He exhaled slowly.
"He's the Rickest Rick I've ever known. Genius, psychopath, tactician, god-complex — all sharpened into one drunk with a portal gun."
"I've heard rumors about Rick Prime —. The progenitor of portal travel.. But I skipped that chapter."
3.
"What you need to understand is this—C-137? He destroyed multiple worlds just for kicks. For the hell of it."
2.
"And that shiny little tower everyone clings to like it's holy? The Citadel?"
Morty looked right at her. "He built it."
1.
"...And then abandoned it. Like it was trash."
The countdown reached zero. a pulse — a low-frequency hum that vibrated the air, and in a single blink...
Evil Morty, Kang Woo, and Makima were gone. So was the space cruiser, and the limp body of Rick, still under Morty's control.
Vanished. Not a trace left. The street was silent. All that remained was the scorched circle on the asphalt… and a faint echo of collapsing dimensions trailing into the sky.
Aki stood there frozen, eyes still locked on the empty space where Kang Woo, Makima, and Morty had vanished. He turned slowly toward Kishibe, voice uncertain, low.
"...Kishibe-san. What… what are we supposed to report to the higher-ups?". "I mean… if they find out Makima-san — the head of Public Safety Devil Hunters — just disappeared…"
Kishibe unscrewed the cap of the dented metal bottle he always carried at his belt, took a long drink, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Then, without looking at Aki, he muttered: "We tell 'em Makima was kidnapped by aliens."
Aki blinked in confuse .
Kishibe continued, dead serious. "And that all Kang Woo's rambling about aliens? Yeah. Turns out it was real. Aliens are real. Kang Woo was just ahead of the rest of us. ...And if anyone tries to argue? We tell 'em to go stand where the circle burned and wait to be abducted."
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Citadel of Ricks — Current Location: Street
With a quiet shift in gravitational flow and a spatial ripple like a breath across folded glass, Kang Woo, Makima, and Evil Morty materialized at the edge of the Citadel — a vast, futuristic city built between reason and chaos.
Towering metallic spires curved around vast bio-domes of living fauna. Waterfalls descended from impossible heights. There were trees growing through buildings, suspended bridges tangled like neuron pathways, and glowing signs written in ten dialects of science.
The sky overhead was veiled by shifting holograms, and somewhere in the distance, the Citadel Core loomed — an enormous column wrapped in circuitry, at the base of which sat a massive statue of a Rick, unnamed and uncelebrated, arms crossed in smug defiance.
Makima slowly took it all in, eyes scanning the bizarre harmony between brutal steel and natural beauty.
She paused when she saw something that struck her as quietly brutal.
A random Morty, maybe fourteen, nervously stepped off the curb and tried to hail a floating cab.
He was ignored. A moment later, the same cab glided back down and immediately picked up a Rick without hesitation.
Makima frowned slightly. "...Sounds tough for a Morty to be here," she murmured.
Before Evil Morty could reply, a voice cut through the air — smug, grating.
A random Rick, dressed in a stained lab coat and smudged goggles, strolled past their group, waving lazily at no one in particular. He paused just long enough to glance at them — saw Morty, then Makima and Kang Woo — and let out a bark of laughter.
"Hoho! Look at this one!" he sneered. "The Morty candidate himself… bringing along some non-Ricks and non-Mortys. What is this, your cheer squad?"
He cackled at his own joke, then added, "What's next? You gonna enter the shadow council with a support animal too?"
The random Rick stepped into another cab and zipped away into the skyline, still laughing.
Makima's expression didn't change. Kang Woo didn't even blink.
But Evil Morty gave the faintest grin, his eye twitching with quiet strategy.
"...They should have mocked more, Would've made it easier to rig things up."
Kang Woo looked sideways at him, voice dry. "How much infamy do you actually need?"
Evil Morty didn't hesitate. "To the point where everyone thinks I'm hopeless."
Kang Woo gave a short nod, turning toward the glowing boulevard that split across the upper levels of the Citadel like a neural map. "Come on, Makima. Let's go do some touring while I work my magic."
Makima raised an eyebrow, stepping beside him with a hint of a smirk, trying to assert her dominance over Kang Woo.
"Touring, ? Shouldn't I be the one leading this expedition? This Morty candidate may run the election, but I've handled devils, politicians, hybrids. Even in a place like this…"
"...I'm very good at controlling the situati—"
She froze mid-step. Her body jerked subtly, like someone had just plucked a thread from inside her chest. Her pupils narrowed . t her thoughts sharpened instantly.
Something's been severed. This sensation…
My contract—
Her hand slowly reached for her chest, and her mind filled with silence that should not exist.
...The Prime Minister. My contract with the Japanese government… it's gone. Did he betray me? Why now?
Kang Woo leaned slightly closer, whispering just loud enough for her to hear."Makima. Right now… we're in a completely different universe. So don't think too hard about missing strings. You're not bound to anyone here."
But as he watched her carefully, his instincts flared — something was off.
He quietly activated the Authority of the Beholder. His eyes flashed with layered runes, scanning Makima's internal condition beyond flesh or aura — reading contracts, laws, metaphysical bindings.
Then he saw it.
Her contract…The one that kept her immortal — that transferred any fatal attack she received to a random Japanese citizen via binding with the Prime Minister — It was gone.
And in this Citadel, in a universe where devils meant nothing, where fear-based ability were irrelevant, her entire foundational structure was starting to collapse.
Kang Woo's eyes narrowed. She's weakening. Fast.
Without hesitation, he raised his left hand and clenched it into a fist.
Blood ran down his palm — thick, black-red, radiant with swirling embers of soul energy.
Using Soul Distribution, he severed a controlled piece of his own soul and embedded it within his blood.
He leaned in and whispered, voice sharp and low.
"No time to explain. You're in the worst possible state here.
Drink my blood. Now."
Makima felt dizzy — her vision tunneling, her balance tilting.
Silently, almost instinctively, she stepped forward and brought his bleeding hand to her lips — drinking deeply, drawing in the potent, otherworldly soul-thread laced into the blood.
The effect was immediate.
A surge of warmth — overwhelming, chaotic,.
Her breath caught. She pulled away and staggered, gasping once.
"...What's… happening?" she whispered,.
"It's like… this place is rejecting me."
Kang Woo exhaled, steady and calm. "Most Ricks and Mortys don't give a shit about anything. And outside your own universe? Where the rules don't recognize devils?" "You're just… another dying woman. But now you're my dying woman. And I don't lose what's mine."
Makima steadied herself, the rush of his blood still resonating through her system like heat blooming beneath her skin. She didn't speak right away. But when she did, her voice carried something more than formality — something cautious, unsure.
"...We need to talk. After you win this Morty candidate race. There's so much I don't understand… but I'll ask all of it after this is over."
Kang Woo gave a small, knowing reached out and gently patted her head. "Sure, Makima. And thanks for waiting. You'll get the answers I can give. But don't expect me to answer everything."
Makima blinked at the sudden headpat — her composure faltering for half a second as she followed behind him. She glanced to the side, expression unreadable.
Then, barely audible, she muttered to herself: "...I'm not a kid, Kang Woo. I don't need a headpat."
Kang Woo, without turning, chuckled faintly. "They say tsundere infects anyone if they get too close. Is it gonna infect you too, Makima?"
Makima only walked quietly beside him — a small, uncharacteristic smile at the corner of her lips.
Not far behind them, Evil Morty watched the pair silently — his eyes narrow, thoughtful, calculating.
That's why I said it… A Control Devil wasn't supposed to be here. When I spoke to you, Kang Woo, I meant it. Her world — the one tangled with Supes and devils — never even continued space travel. You brought her here… like dragging a human into Sun orbit. You intensified the pressure until she can barely breathe.
He let out a quiet exhale,. Just acknowledgment. In fact, he mused, not all people like us are monsters. But most of them — Ricks, Mortys — aren't smart enough . To survive what's coming.
He turned from the overlook, boots clicking against the floor as he stepped into the curved corridor. His office wasn't far.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Meanwhile, down on the street level, Makima glanced around, heels tapping against the Citadel's alloy pavement as she followed Kang Woo.
She eyed the building ahead — glowing neon script above its doorway reading something half-sarcastic like "Rick's Rehab (but Not Really)".
"You're sure we need something from a bar?" she asked, arching a brow.
Kang Woo didn't slow down. "It's not the bar I need," he said. "It's the people who hide there."
As they stepped in, the scent of overclocked liquor processors and interdimensional hangovers filled the space. Inside was chaos dressed in lab coats — Juggling Rick trying to balance six portal guns while hiccupping, Reverse Rick arguing with a urinal, Guilt Rick sobbing in a corner into his sixth beaker of antifreeze martini.
Kang Woo scanned them with a flat gaze, thinking, It's like they always say — if a Rick loses round one in the race for power, he drinks round two in here.
But just before they could fully enter, a bouncer guard Rick stepped in, chewing some kind of sentient gum and waving a lazy hand.
"Yooo—didn't you see the sign? Bar's for Ricks. Not Mortys. Not whatevers."
Kang Woo grabbed the guard's belt and gave it a yank — straight down.
"Is this your belt?" he asked coldly.
The guard Rick panicked, instantly grabbing at his jeans before they dropped any further, eyes wide with horror.
"H-Hey! What the hell, man—!"
But Kang Woo and Makima were already stepping forward.
Every Rick inside turned toward the disturbance. The room fell quiet.
And then came the stares — cautious, squinting, some hostile. All of them locked on Kang Woo.
Kang Woo stepped forward without flinching, his boots echoing against the bar floor as if it were his throne room. He sat down squarely on the reserved seat — the one normally left untouched, saved for the highest-ranking Rick in the establishment. He didn't even glance at the uneasy stares. Makima slid into the seat beside him, composed, though her gaze swept the room carefully.
Kang Woo raised one hand and snapped his fingers then made a gesture toward the Morty behind the bar. The bartender Morty froze mid-polish of a glass, blinked twice, then hesitantly moved into action.
Makima leaned in slightly, whispering near Kang Woo's ear. "I thought this bar was reserved for Ricks?"
Kang Woo smirked and raised his voice just enough to be heard across the floor. "You should see what the Citadel will look like when Candidate Morty wins the race."
A subtle hush dropped over the crowd. Every Rick's stare sharpened — egos pricked, pride challenged. Someone choked on their drink. Another Rick stopped mid-card game. The atmosphere thickened.
One of the older Ricks muttered, "He's not serious…"
Bartender Morty returned quickly, placing a glowing amber drink — the bar's best — onto Kang Woo's table with careful precision. "Here you go, sir."
He bowed slightly, then turned back just as fast, his hands vanishing under the counter. The faint click of a hidden shotgun arming echoed beneath the glass racks.
The Rick with curly hair and a Greek necklace — a strange flair among the scientifically obsessed — strutted forward with a sway that said I own this room. His white shirt was stained with spilled synth-wine, and his black pants tucked into weather-worn boots clanked faintly with metal. He grabbed Kang Woo's drink without permission, raised it, and chugged the whole glass in one pull.
Then he slammed the cup down, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and burped directly into Kang Woo's face.
"Rick courtesy,". To get by older Ricks, you gotta act like one."
Makima's gaze remained low, watching the angle of every shoulder in the room.
Kang Woo voice rang out."Funny. I was about to say the same thing. Aren't all Ricks convinced they're gods? Immortal, untouchable, absolute… but not a single one of you invented portal travel. That's very godly, from what I see."
A pause — then a low chuckle. "Which makes all of this a very loud pile of bullshit."
That did it. Hothead Rick's face flushed. His ego shattered into fury. He yanked his wrist gun up, fingers already on the trigger.
"Motherfucker, you wanna die —"
BOOM. Kang woo Super Shotgun fired before the sentence finished. The blast tore through both of Hothead Rick's legs at once. Flesh, bone, synthwire — all gone. His body hit the floor , blood pooling under him as his arms flailed for support.
Kang Woo didn't stand. He didn't blink. He just smiled — slow, subtle, surgical.
Makima's gaze lingered on the scattered fragments of bone and metal. Bartender Morty tensed behind the counter.
Kang Woo casually leaned back, voice cold and easy. "He'll be fine. After all… every last one of you can regenerate, right?"
The statement was a match dropped into gasoline. CLIKK.
Every Rick in the room suddenly raised a weapon — guns, bracers, portal blades, tech-linked fangs, and drones emerging from coats and implants. The air bristled with charged tension, the glow of lethal circuitry painting every angle.
Then came the crackled voice of Bartender Morty — nerves shredded thin.
"Jeez, everyone, let's chill out. Come on, it's a bar…"
Reverse Rick stepped forward — older, slower, his features inverted and drawn backwards like a reflection caught mid-glitch. He stared down Kang Woo with a manic twitch in his left eye, veins pulsing along his jaw.
"And what does an inferior know about us?. "That we are a lie? That the Citadel is built on a lie? That our lives… are a fucking lieeee?!"
Kang Woo spoke with a sneer laced in mockery. "Is that how an inferior talks? I mean… the guy down there—" he gestured lazily toward the writhing Hothead Rick, still bleeding and twitching, "—was wearing a Greek necklace. Probably worships something."
His smile returned. "So much for self-proclaimed gods."
Without warning, the Eye of Mikhail on Kang Woo's left back palm flared open — silently.
Zaiphon runes traced into the air ,A pulse of white-blue EMP swept through the bar like a holy scream. And in an instant—
Weapons shorted out. Tech collapsed. Implants glitched and limbs spasmed.
Every Rick dropped to the floor — twitching, gasping, convulsing like puppets whose strings had been violently cut. The room sparked with dead circuits and aborted fire commands. Lights dimmed.
A quiet voice echoed inside Kang Woo's head — crisp and amused.
Mikhail: "Just like you said, Master. Their egos are very fragile."
Kang Woo moved without a word, stepping over the limp, twitching Ricks littering the floor. He reached down and plucked the smoking portal gun off Hothead Rick's belt.
"Hey—hey! That's my portal gun!" Hothead Rick gasped, dragging himself by one elbow,. "What the fuck's an inferior like you gonna do with that?!"
Kang Woo handed the portal gun to Bartender Morty, who blinked in disbelief as Kang Woo placed it gently in his trembling hands.
"You're free now," Kang Woo said.
Bartender Morty stared at the device like it was a bomb. He stammered, his voice cracking like always.
"Oh jeez—uh—I—I mean, it—it belongs to a Rick. Not me."
Makima stepped forward, already knowing what Kang Woo was doing. It was never about this bar. It was never about one Rick. It was about provoking all of them — tearing open the system from within, forcing the Citadel into chaos… all so Evil Morty could rise through the ashes.
And she could see it. Kang Woo's quiet game of escalation. But she looked at the Morty before her — this trembling, wide-eyed boy behind a bar — and gently touched his hand.
"Morty, right?" she said, voice calm but sure. "Or… Bartender Morty. Either way—this is your chance. It's time your life belonged to you."
Her words settled into him like light through a cracked window. For a second, he stood there — his lips trembled, and something shone in his eyes.
"You… you're like Jessica," he whispered. "Very beautiful. Thank you… for freeing me."
With shaking fingers, he turned the dial on the portal gun. A swirling green vortex ripped open in the air behind him.
He looked back at Kang Woo and Makima once — face full of awe, fear, and hope — and then, without hesitation… He ran. Vanishing into the portal. Gone.
The bar door creaked open as Kang Woo and Makima stepped out into the neon-lit street, leaving behind a room full of stunned, short-circuited Ricks — most of them still reeling, twitching, or just sitting in silence, watching the two figures walk away.
But one thought echoed in every mind left behind: "I'm entering the race. I'll become President."
Chaos had been seeded. Egos ignited. The flood was about to begin.
Out on the street, Kang Woo and Makima walked side by side through the glowing corridors of the Citadel. Towering structures and floating cars buzzed overhead, casting long shadows.
Makima tilted her head toward him, a smug curl tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Now I see it. Your little plan. You should be thanking me for that perfect delivery."
Kang Woo leaned in, voice low. "Close,". "But not quite." You see… you thought the goal was just to provoke chaos. Push the Citadel into turmoil. Let Candidate Morty rise from the ashes. That's part of it."
"But what I really expect is for every Rick here — every self-declared god — to start thinking they're unique. That they should run. Not just General Rick or Corporate Rick. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of candidates."
"And when that happens… when the stage gets flooded, and the two frontrunners are buried under a swarm of egotists…"
Makima's smile faded slightly. She was listening now.
Kang Woo continued "That's when the impossible happens,". "The Morty no one believed in — the one everyone mocked — becomes the only rational option left. The only one who doesn't sound like a lunatic."
"That's when Candidate Morty wins through empathy. Through the pity of the crowd. He becomes the first President of the Citadel under a true democratic vote."
Makima blinked once. Slowly. "…You really think that'll work?"
Kang Woo gave a faint, knowing grin. "It already has."
The wide plaza lit up as the giant Citadel newsfeed screens flickered — flashing red, white, and blue with static. The faces of Rick D-716 and Rick D-716-B appeared, each with the smuggest grin imaginable, flanking a spinning poll chart.
Rick D-716 straightened his blazer, then leaned in toward the screen.
"Coming up — I'm D-716 and this is my partner D-716-B. As you can see, folks, something unexpected just happened."
The feed shifted behind him to show stock footage of Reverse Rick juggling grenades, Juggling Rick balancing on a gyro-ball, and Guilty Rick wearing a priest collar and smoking a vape.
"The Three Losers—Reverse Rick, Juggling Rick, and Guilty Rick—have reentered the race!"
Cue dramatic synth sting.
"And just when you thought things couldn't get dumber—bam! Hothead Rick shows up as a wildcard. That's right, the guy with a Greek god complex and no legs is officially running. And to spice it up, a whole bunch of Ricks have joined the presidential race too!"
Rick D-716-B chuckled, slapping the data chart that now showed four new color bars crowding the race.
"Meanwhile, General Rick and Private Sector Rick are still in the lead… but their numbers just dropped. These four just grabbed a solid 13% chunk of the vote."
The screen panned to the new spread.
General Rick – 30%
Private Sector Rick – 20%
Other Ricks (Reverse, Juggling, Guilty, Hothead , and many ricks ) – 13%
Candidate Morty – 1%
Rick D-716-B smirked wider. "Technically, Candidate Morty's at 0.1%, but we're being merciful. I mean, let's be honest, he's probably curled up somewhere muttering, 'Oh jeez, we're gonna lose,' or some other pathetic catchphrase."
They both burst into laughter as the feed looped.
Kang Woo watched calmly, one hand in his coat, the other slipping into his shadow as if retrieving something invisible. He turned his head slightly toward Makima. "Told ya."
His eyes narrowed just slightly at the broadcast, still fixed on the fluctuating poll numbers.
Then Makima's voice broke the stillness beside him. "But you did get one thing wrong, Kang Woo."
Kang woo glanced at her, one brow raised. "What's that?"
Makima tilted her head, folding her arms loosely. "It's not Corporate Rick. It's Private Sector Rick. Those two are completely different things."
Kang Woo blinked, deadpan. "Are you talking my language?"
, she stepped forward, smoothly—then wrapped her arms around him from behind. Not tight. Just enough to feel the contact. Enough to make her point.
Makima voice lowered near his ear, breath deliberate. "Sure I am,"After all… I've already declared you mine."
Kang Woo remained still for a moment longer, her warmth against his back lingering like the echo of a vow.
Makima, in her current state… fluctuating between dominance and tsundere tendencies. Trying to control me, while not knowing if she wants to be controlled. , he thought dryly.
A light chime echoed in the back of his mind:
[+10 Affection with Makima]
(Current Relationship: 70/100)
Makima can't be honest with her feelings. She's grateful you brought her along, but conflicted about showing it.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Kang Woo gave a faint smile, then stepped forward without a word. Makima followed right behind, her gaze a touch more serious now, arms falling to her sides. The hug was over — but the bond was not.
They reached the small campaign building tucked into the Citadel's side structure. Inside, the lights were dim, and the atmosphere tense.
Two Mortys were arguing by a digital campaign board. One in a red tie, clearly flustered — the campaign manager. The other, composed, in a dark suit with no eyepatch — looking like just another candidate Morty, but far from it.
"Sir, look at the numbers," Campaign Manager Morty stammered, flinging a report onto the console. "We're at one percent! The others are crushing us — it's time to pull out before we're completely erased!"
The suited Morty — Evil Morty in disguise — didn't blink. His voice was calm, almost indifferent, but it carried weight.
"I have full confidence in what's been set into motion," he said. "Opportunity favors those who do the same thing... every time. Over. And over."
His eyes drifted past the projection — toward the doorway.
Kang Woo and Makima stood there, the light from the hallway silhouetting them in.
Evil Morty's lips curled ever so slightly. "You two," he said. "Meet me in my office. You've done excellent work."
Inside Evil Morty's office — dimly lit, reinforced walls humming faintly with layered encryption — the atmosphere was quiet, controlled.
He was already seated behind his curved desk, fingers steepled under his chin. Kang Woo sat with his usual poise, legs crossed, while Makima relaxed into the seat beside him, arms resting on the armrest but her eyes sharp.
Evil Morty exhaled, impressed. "How the hell did you pull that off, Kang Woo?"
Kang Woo gave a small shrug, his tone cool.
"Their ego's still fragile. Push them right and they snap like rusted steel. That'll drag Private Sector Rick and General Rick — or Retired General, I don't know their egos well enough to care — back into the same spiral loop they've always been in."
"And that leaves you… with the cleanest path to answer the hardest question. Which you will. Since you're the only one playing the long game."
Evil Morty slid something across the desk — a sleek object with an audible click as it stopped near Kang Woo.
Kang Woo caught it mid-slide. The portal pistol.
Its design was unfamiliar to any Citadel tech — sleek and aerodynamic, with a gray-white curved shell, a glowing purple core nestled inside, and a grip carved like it was molded.
Kang Woo studied the pistol in his hand.
"You haven't become president yet," he said, voice calm but edged. "The deal was—when you win, then you give me what I demand. So why hand this over early?"
Evil Morty leaned back in his chair, a single brow raised. "I don't know which Rick it was,", "but one of them was dumb enough to toss that thing into a discard loop. Didn't even realize what he had."
". It was built by space dinosaurs — the really advanced kind. When you fire it . It lets you see what's on the other side before you go.. Clean dimensional traversal."
Makima, watching closely, tilted her head slightly.
"And you don't want to keep it, Morty? It's more advanced than anything the Citadel's ever produced."
Evil Morty raised a hand, waving the thought away.
"First off — a deal is a deal. I don't retract on contracts, not with Zecht binding both sides. And second… I'll get my own signature portal tech when the time's right. That one's yours. Use it to burn a hole wherever you like. Just don't forget where it came from."
Suddenly, the large monitor across the room flared to life. The Citadel's live news feed flickered into view — static, grain, and the unmistakable slurred voice of a half-drunk reporter Rick leaning halfway off his news desk.
"The presidential race kicks off in thirty minutes, folks. Thirty. Minutes." He hiccupped, then squinted at his notes. "Best of luck to the candidates. And I'm sure as hell it won't be a Morty."
He shuffled a stack of paper clumsily before adding:
"Also in breaking news — a crime at the Wubba Bar. Two inferiors, one male and one female, caused a disruption. They're to be detained for questioning.". "Shoulda known it was a Morty tag-along stunt."
Evil Morty stood, brushing his coat straight. " That's my cue."
He turned to Kang Woo and Makima, eyes calculating but oddly relaxed.
"You two should stay here. Wait it out. Once I win, I'll get you full pardons and unlock the privileges this place can actually offer. Consider yourselves future chancellors of the Citadel. Not quite president—but not far below it either."
Kang Woo gave a simple nod. "Very appreciated."
Makima leaned back slightly in her seat, arms crossing with that teasing glint behind her eyes.
"What kind of privilege exactly?". "Because from what I've seen… this Citadel looks like one giant frat house of drunk Ricks."
Evil Morty smirked, already halfway to the door. "You'll be impressed,. What I'm building is a real Citadel. Just wait and see."
And with that, he turned on his heel and left, the heavy office doors sliding shut behind him.