Scamming is a very delicate art.

Some are naturals.

Some are born with talent.

And some couldn't do it if their soul depended on it.

I was never a scammer.

In both my humble lives, I never once scammed anyone.

I mean, how could someone as benevolent, honest, and devastatingly handsome as me ever do something like that?

…Okay, maybe once or twice.

Like the time I sold defective earbuds to a bunch of high-schoolers during a part-time job.

But that was business.

Definitely not a scam.

Still, the situation right now was so desperate that even I—as stable and humble as a saint—had to stoop to something so… low.

I was going to scam a goddess.

And not just any goddess.

Hel.

The Chalice of Death.

The artifact with supreme authority over all things dead, dying or about to be.

I knew jackshit about it.

Okay, fine. I knew some things.

Like what it was or maybe where it would show up.

Possibly even how.

But none of that was information I planned on sharing.

See, the Chalice only appeared near the end arc of the novel, right around the time the world went straight to hell.

Why?

Because by then, most of this small, lovely planet called Nytherra was already destroyed.

One of the gods of the underworld—Vael'Ruun—died around that time.

And the moment his divine soul shifted from reality…

That's when the Chalice showed up.

Not to be claimed or to be wielded.

But to collect.

It came for his soul.

The Chalice of Death wasn't just some relic waiting for a worthy master.

It was sentient.

It had a will.

A mind of its own.

And the reason it hadn't appeared yet?

Maybe it hadn't chosen a successor to Death.

…Or maybe it had.

And it was just waiting.

Waiting for the perfect moment.

Either way…

It never picked anyone until the very end in the novel.

Only fragments like that were ever mentioned.

Not enough to pinpoint a location.

But… enough to form theories.

Why did the Chalice appear only after the death of a god of the underworld?

Why not for the other Gods who died before him?

What made Vael'Ruun different?

Was he special?

Chosen?

Or was there some hidden condition, tied not to divinity… but to the kind of death that came for him?

I hadn't thought about it back then.

I didn't need to.

But ever since I set foot in the underworld, those questions wouldn't stop spinning through my head.

Because this…

This was the only path left.

So I scraped every corner of my memory.

Every half-baked theory Noah shared with me.

Every detail I once skimmed past like it didn't matter.

And the craziest part? I remembered it.

Some part of it.

Which was shocking, honestly.

I mean, I was a lazy bastard. The kind who skimmed info-dump chapters and called it "efficient reading."

And yet… Here I was, recalling an important detail for once.

Did I finally gain that infamous transmigrator power?

You know the one.

Where they remember every single irrelevant detail about their favorite story.

…If so, about damn time.

The novel mentioned that Vael'Ruun was a Greater God—above Godlings and beyond Lesser Gods.

And he was the first Greater God to fall during the Divine War.

That was important. Because it meant even the gods of the underworld—those who claimed dominion over death—couldn't handle the death of one of their own.

Not someone like him.

So the Chalice showed up.

Or maybe…

Vael'Ruun was different.

Maybe he had a deeper connection to the Chalice itself. One I didn't understand.

Either way, everything pointed to the same thing:

His death brought the Chalice into play.

But I wasn't going to spell that out.

The gods might be cold and ancient, but they weren't dead inside. If I even hinted that killing another god could summon the Chalice?

Yeah. That would be enough to start a divine war.

And guess who they'd turn to first when the blood started flying?

Me.

The idiot who opened his mouth.

Instead I looked at Hel who was waiting for my reply.

"Oh Great Goddess," I said, meeting her gaze without flinching. "Believe me, I would love to share everything I know about the Chalice of Death right here, right now…"

I let the sentence linger, just long enough.

"But the Forgotten Trickster—my oh-so-thoughtful predecessor—made sure I physically can't."

I tapped my chest, right above where my heart lived once before it was ripped by that dragonic bastard.

"He tied the knowledge behind divine bindings and curses I haven't even begun to understand yet."

I gave her a helpless shrug, the kind that said 'I'm screwed, your majesty, but what can we do?'

"Apparently, he believed that secrets are best kept… until the right moment."

Then I smiled, slow and sly.

"I just need you to help me reach that moment."

Perfect, if I must say.

Back when I said I would "share the details of the Chalice of Death" at the start of this delightful little audience.

It wasn't true. Obviously.

And I had my fallback ready: "Not yet, but I know how it appears."

A truth laced in just enough ambiguity to sell the illusion.

It was a test to know if Hel can see me lie.

But she didn't flinch.

That's when I realized it.

Hel couldn't tell.

She couldn't read or see through me for some reason.

And that was terrifying.

Because if she—the Ruler of Helheim—couldn't… then something was very wrong with me.

Or maybe very right.

I don't know what the Forgotten Trickster did before he kicked the cosmic bucket—or whatever his exit move was—but he definitely tampered with something in my soul.

Bent a few rules.

I should probably figure out what that is at some point… you know, for survival purposes.

But right now?

I was going to use it.

I was going to abuse the ever-living hell out of it.

Because in a world full of gods, monsters and mysteries older than sin—

Being unreadable was a damn superpower.

"What do you mean?" Her cold voice echoed.

I didn't flinch or stutter.

Hell, I didn't even blink.

Not because I was brave.

But because apparently, my face had turned into goddamn iron with that grin still on my face.

Even I was surprised.

I was good at acting… You could even call me a natural actor.

But Gods had lived for countless eons.

Their entire thing was knowing when someone lies.

Sensing hesitation, watching micro-expressions, feeling the tremble in your soul before you even knew you were afraid.

And yet… here I was.

Lying to a goddess.

And winning.

That should've been impossible.

I knew it should've been impossible.

When I first walked in here, saying "I am gonna resurrect."

I knew myself how risky that plan was.

I even expected to die. Or worse.

But I did it anyway—rage at that scaly bastard kept me going.

And I was already dead, so it didn't matter much.

But now?

Now that I was succeeding…

A chill ran down my spine.

The "you've touched something you weren't supposed to" kind.

The Trickster.

That smug, reality-bending bastard.

What the hell did he do to me?

Back then, I had been confident that he couldn't go against Heavenly Principles to mess with me…

… but now I understand he definitely did something.

Still, this wasn't the time to panic.

I pushed the questions down, for now, and looked up at Hel again.

Her gaze hadn't moved.

"There is a way," I said, my voice calm. "A way to undo the restriction."

I let the pause hang.

"But to do it… I'd need to be bound by something stronger.

A restriction placed by a being of greater power than the one who sealed me."

Hel remained calm.

Of course she did.

I mean, if she'd flinched or even blinked, I probably would've burst out laughing.

She was a god, for god's sake. If she couldn't even control her expressions, that'd be more concerning than impressive.

But I could imagine, her eyes trembling.

Because deep down, she probably knew, she wasn't stronger than the Forgotten Trickster. Maybe… At most, she was his equal.

But even that felt doubtful now, since she couldn't see through me.

Hel's voice echoed again.

"And you believe I would bind myself to the Trickster's games… simply to entertain the words of a mortal with a stolen spark?"

Her gaze sharpened.

"He is not a being one challenges lightly. Even I know the weight of his mischief."

Exactly the response I wanted.

The smile on my face widened.

"It is not you I ask to bind me, O Goddess."

"I wish to be bound by the Heavenly Principles."

Now that made something shift.

Even she, the Queen of Stillness, couldn't stop the reaction.

The very air trembled.

"What do you mean, mortal?" She asked.

Her voice was steady but the weight behind it was anything but that.

*****

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