Consultation 142.
Consultation 142.
Clang clang clang.
Clang clang clang.
Clang clang clang.
I watched on vacantly as the cup in my hand moved from side to side while it knocked against the cold metallic bars.
When I came to, I’d found my environment had completely changed. My location, behind bars in God prison. A destitute place no God wished to ever be sent to.
As for why that was the case, it was effectively a place for community service. In other words, working for free. For my case, I was told it would be until I paid off the taxes I was behind on. I use my one call to ask for a God of Shitty Legal Advice to make a case for me, but when he heard I was broke and in here because I couldn’t pay all my taxes, he laughed me off the phone.
“Haaaaah.” Why does a prison for Gods even exist? Isn’t it just stupid? Just leave me in my office, it’s practically a prison anyway.
“Hey, Pal, you sure sound down. What are you in for?”
I listlessly looked up at the cell directly across from me and discovered a Goddess staring back at me curiously.
“What I’m in for?”
“Yeah.”
“Being too poor.”
“What? Being too poor? That’s not something they’d put you in here for. Are you hiding it because it’s something so vile it cannot be spoken?”
“Tax evasion.”
“Ah. I see. Tch. How boring. And here I thought a big shot got sentenced or something.”
“A big shot? I’m just a tiny little Lower God.”
“Well, it’s not so bad. Just give it a bit, I’m sure you’ll be out in no time. At least you’re not sentenced for eternity like me.”
“You’re sentenced for eternity?”
“Yes.”
“What exactly did you do that was so bad that you got an eternity-long sentence?”
“I’m an Untitled Goddess.”
“Should I call you Goddess Untitled then?”
“Call me whatever you want, I don’t particularly care.”
“Sure, but Goddess Untitled, you didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, right. How silly of me. I’m in here for rejecting the marriage proposal of some bastard Supreme God. He was enraged when I told him to go fuck himself in front of a bunch of other Supreme Gods at a shitty party for those elitist pricks. Unable to bear with the humiliation that came with my rejection, he plotted against me and got me tossed in here for eternity.”
For her to be proposed to by a Supreme God and be at one of their parties made me think she was originally one of them.
“Before you became an Untitled Goddess, what exactly was your title?”
“I’ve been in here for so long that I’ve forgotten.”
“I see.”
“By the way, what God proposed to you exactly?”
“Some old fart. I think his title was God of Shitty Taxation or something like that. I personally prefer to just call him old fart though.”
“I… see…”
Hah? What the hell? Do coincidences like this really exist? Could it actually be more than just a coincidence? Had I been intentionally locked up in a cell directly across from her? Why though? Was he still into her or something? Did he want me to try and play matchmaker for him? If I did so, would he turn a blind eye to the taxes I was still owing?
Was I mistaken about him? Could he actually be a nice guy? Psh. Nah. Nobody who collects taxes is a nice guy. They’re all merciless dicks without a heart.
“Hey, by any chance, has the God of Shitty Taxation visited you recently?” I had to confirm whether I was supposed to play wingman or not.
“Him? Yeah, that old fart still comes around here trying to persuade me to accept his marriage proposal, but no matter how many times he comes I reject him the exact same way I did the first time. My answer won’t change. It’s pretty funny, he always comes bearing gifts and whatever I ask for.”
“He brings you stuff in prison?”
“Yeah. I always ask him for some crazy shit telling him if he can’t even bring it to just give up, but he always comes through. I’m actually quite surprised he actually fulfilled my last request. I was sure his pride wouldn’t allow it.”
“Your last request?”
“Yeah.”
“What was your last request?”
She raised her hand up and stuck out one finger to point at it.
I turned my head and looked where she pointed behind me, but there was nothing there. You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Hey… there’s nothing there.” I turned back to her with an awful feeling in my gut.
She smiled.
I raised my hand and pointed at myself.
She nodded twice.
“Why me! Damn it, why not anyone else!”
“It’s not like I specifically asked for you or anything. I just asked for someone I could bitch to about all my problems. Essentially, a counselor. You are a counselor, right?”
“God damn it! Pick someone else!”
“Hahaha. Now, now, relax. There’s no need to freak out. You were just a bit unlucky is all.”
“Wait a minute... if you asked him to release me, wouldn’t he let me off the hook?”
“Hmmm… and what makes you think I’d do that?”
“You wouldn’t?”
“Not unless there was something in it for me.” A calculating smile floated to her face.
“How about I break you out of here in the future?”
“Not interested. I’d just be hunted down and recaptured.”
“What are you interested in then?”
“Oh? You want to know?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t tell you. Figure it out yourself.”
Figure it out? How the hell am I supposed to do that?
I lowered my head and mulled over it for a while.
Seeing me in deep thought, she suddenly chimed in, “Hey, talk to me. It’s boring if you suddenly go quiet on me. I haven’t had a chance to talk to anyone else for so long aside from the old fart who occasionally visits me.”
“Talk? Talk about what exactly?”
“I don’t know. You think of something. Entertain me.”
“Not interested.”
“What? You’re not interested in talking to a Goddess who even a Supreme God has been chasing after forever?”
“No thank you. I’ve got to talk enough as part of my job. I’ve talked to more than enough crazy women.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“Bitch, do you even know what my title is?”
“No, what is it?”
“I am the God of Shitty Life Counseling for Defective Washed Up Waifus.”
“Pffft. HAHAHA! What the hell is with that title? Have I been locked up in here for so long that they’ve run out of unique titles to give out?”
“There are a lot of titles like mine you know. My first wife is Goddess of Shitty Life Counseling for Defective Washed Up Husbandos.”
“HAHAHAHAHA! So cute, you match!”
“Match? Hell no. She’s a stab happy as crazy bitches get.”
“Wait, you said, first wife. Does that mean there’s a second one?”
“Uh… yeah. Ugh. Don’t remind me. I didn’t even want one wife let alone a second one. I was conned both times. The first one was pushed on me through a game show. The second was Author pushing her on me as a punishment for something stupid she did.”
“Oh, you’ve got a Goddess on your right and another on your left and you’re complaining about it?”
“It’s hell. Marriage is a trap. It’s awful. I’m always being stabbed by my first wife whenever she cringes. The second one’s not stab-happy, but she’s constantly competing with my first wife.”
“You didn’t say what the second one’s title is.”
“Oh, right. It’s the… Goddess of Shitty Life Counseling for Grandparents.”
“Pfft.” Her entire body trembled as she did her best to hold back her laughter.
“You’re not going to laugh?”
“Hahahahaha! Of course I’m going to laugh! What the hell’s with these titles? Author sure is half-heartedly pulling them out of her ass these days.”
“You’re familiar with Author?”
“Well, there isn’t just one Author. There are many titled Author. It’s a special title among Middle Gods, one of which is shared among many. The Author I’m familiar with isn’t necessarily the one you are familiar with.”
“Oh, true.”
“Generally, the longer the title, the younger and lower in status the God. Older Gods have the shortest titles. The only exception is the Middle God title, Author. But putting that aside, I take it you’re a rather young Lower God, right?”
“Yes, you’re correct. I’m only a few million years old. I was one of the unfortunate few who reincarnated as a God.”
“It’s pretty rare to get a free pass into Godhood though.”
“It’s not like I wanted to reincarnate as a God.”
“Yeah, being a God is overrated after all. Everything becomes a bore when you’re a God. You have my condolences. It’s a shame that once a freak accident like that happens there’s no going back either.”
“Tell me about it. No matter how I begged and pleaded I was told it was impossible to go back to being a simpleminded mortal who knew nothing of this cursed world of Gods.”
“Hmmm… cursed world of Gods?”
“Is something wrong with what I said?”
“No. I just thought I was the only one among Godkind who called it that.”
“Right…” the ways she was eying me suggested her curiosity had been piqued.
“...”
“Uh, can you please stop staring at me?”
“Why?”
“It feels like I’m being treated like an amusing toy to play with.”
“You don’t want to be a Goddess’s toy?”
“My wife already toys around with me enough. I don’t need more people treating me like a toy.”
“I see.”
I let out a sigh of relief when she laid down on her bed in her cell and stopped staring me down.
To be stared down by a potential Supreme Goddess was honestly unnerving.
I relaxed my shoulders when a sudden question popped into my head. Why was she so adamant in refusing to marry the God of Shitty Taxation? I mean, if I could hook her up with him I could get him in my good books and very likely catch a break on my taxes.
No matter how I thought it over, I just couldn’t find a logical reason for her refusal. He held a high status, she could live a much more comfortable life if she caved in and accepted his proposal. All her problems would be solved if she just gave in and married him. She wouldn’t be in this prison either. Did she have some strange sort of prison or confinement fetish?
“Hey, Goddess Untitled.”
“Hmm? What is it?” She asked with her eyes closed.
“Why do you keep turning the God of Shitty Taxation down when all your problems could be solved by marrying him? He’d obviously release you from prison and give you everything you could ever want.”
“Like you said. Marriage is a trap. I’m not interested in it. At least… with him, it would be nothing more than a trap. I’d be a caged bird with my wings clipped. Unable to ever be free again. I’m not interested in that sort of thing.”
“Aren’t you effectively that, being stuck in prison like this?”
“How rude. I’m not a caged bird. I’m a stubbornly resisting caged bird. There’s a difference.”
“Haha. Don’t you think a caged bird is still a caged bird regardless of whether it’s resisting or not?”
“No, there’s a big difference. One has been successfully domesticated while the other is still wild. I refuse to become some sort of trophy on a wall collecting dust. Struggling is the only thing that gives this pitiful thing called eternal life any meaning. If you take away all the struggle, what’s the point of anything?”
“I see. So you’re not interested in him because marriage with him would turn your life into one without any struggle. You also don’t want to be tied down to anyone.”
“Not anyone. Just certain types.”
“Certain types? What if he became someone who is your type then?”
“That’s impossible for him. Even if he became some poverty-stricken God struggling to make ends meet, he would still never be able to become my type.”
“Hah? Aren’t you too damn picky?” Come on bitch! You’re making my job as a wingman too difficult!
“How is it impossible?”
“I’m the type who likes it when a guy is squirming under me as I tease him.”
Huh? What’s with that? I don’t recall asking about your degenerate fantasies woman.
“How is that impossible for him? I’m sure he can take on a submissive role for you.”
“For someone like him who is used to power in his lofty position he’d never take a submissive role. Just look at my situation now, he’s domineeringly captured me and locked me away in this prison for all this time. Do you really believe someone like that would ever turn submissive?”
“Uh… now that you mention it… I guess not.”
“And that’s not even the end of it.”
“There’s more?”
“Yeah. Although the chances are extremely unlikely for it to happen, it’s not necessarily 100% impossible. The real reason I say it’s impossible for him to become my type is actually something else entirely.”
“Oh, and what is that?”
“I have a thing for Lower Gods who are younger than me. They’re much more fun to toy with and easier to make squirm with how inexperienced they are.”
“I see. I see. So you’re into Lower Gods that are younger than you. That certainly would be impossible for him.”
Huh? Wait. What?
Something smelled. Something smelled was too fishy for me to ignore. This was all some sort of evil plot against me. Every alarm in my head went off full blast. My instincts told me to keep my mouth shut and never say another word to this Goddess while I’m still in here.
As such, I did exactly that. I scooted to the farthest corner of my lonely cell terrified of the unseen plot moving in the background. I could only imagine Author was behind everything happening here, secretly pulling the strings while laughing to herself maniacally. Everything that had happened up to this point was without a doubt all part of her malicious plan to screw me over.
The only way to counter her plot was to sit here looking traumatized and do absolutely nothing until my sentence was over.