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Chapter 394: The Bustling Editorial Department
"Everything is normal at the Source Wall."
"As of now, I haven't found any trace of Savitar. I can't find him at all! Will someone help me!!"
"There's been a minor fluctuation in the Speed Force. It seems someone has traveled through the timeline. I'm closely monitoring the situation..."
"Strange! Doomsday has suddenly abandoned the universe it nearly destroyed and is heading toward the Prime Universe like a madman! The reason is unknown!"
"Trigon's clone has been defeated, destroyed by the wielder of the Infinity Stones. We need to pay close attention to Trigon's movements and be wary of him lashing out in desperation!"
"Watch what you say, or that Kryptonian dog Krypto might come out and bite you."
"It's fine, I won't let the Kryptos find out. Those little white dogs couldn't find us in ten thousand years!"
...
In an incredibly spacious and bright, gigantic conference room, countless figures were bustling about. They came and went, each holding something in their hands, rushing around in a hurry.
Only a very small number of people were extremely relaxed, leisurely propping their feet up on tables, whistling, and enjoying various beverages in hand as they gloated at their busy colleagues.
Some who walked by glared at the relaxed guys with resentful eyes, roaring, "Bastard, we should switch jobs! Why am I so busy while you're so damn lazy!"
"Now, now, old pal. I am you, and you are me. We are all ourselves. What I enjoy, you enjoy—oh, and don't worry, I'll enjoy your share for you, too, as compensation."
"You bastard! Number 7739, you really should just go and die!"
The man walked away, muttering curses and holding a large stack of files, a look of displeasure on his face.
"I protest! Number 7739, switch with me. I'll take the Source Wall, and you can be responsible for the Speed Force Wall. How about it?"
"Oh, my, my, how could I do that? The Source Wall is far too important, with so many secrets and mysteries. Only someone as dedicated and dutiful as myself can handle this job~ I stare at the Source Wall day in and day out, overexerting myself daily, all for the safety of our Editorial Department~~~"
The person who asked was trembling with anger and cursed, "Who doesn't know the Source Wall is the least likely place to have problems? Countless gods are stuck to the Source Wall, unable to break free to this day. Even they haven't figured out its secrets, let alone you!"
Arguments like this were all too common in the massive conference room, but for as many people were arguing, even more were busy working. Some were pressing down on paper, writing and drawing; some were typing away at computers; and some were painfully clutching their hair, contemplating some difficult problem.
These people were the authors and editors of the Editorial Department. They lived here, each responsible for their own tasks.
Some were tall, some were short, some were fat, some were thin, but one only needed to pay attention to a single point: they were all, in essence, the same person.
The same face, the same genes, the same soul, and the same essence of an ordinary human, without a shred of supernatural power.
Beyond the Fourth Wall, a black light concealed everything.
Tony stood within a black light mass invisible to the naked eye, watching the people in the Editorial Department thoughtfully from behind the transparent wall.
The Plot Gem was held in Tony's hand, unleashing its dimension-hopping ability.
This was the very thing Deadpool relied on to enter and exit the Editorial Department at will.
However, the gem had been taken by One, and now it had fallen into Tony's hands.
"The Editorial Department... it's quite lively..."
Tony watched the various scenes in the Editorial Department from behind the Fourth Wall, finding it somewhat amusing. He had already seen more than a few of them get into fistfights, wrestling in a heap.
If he wanted to, he could rush in at any moment and slaughter all of these ordinary humans.
But again, there was little point.
So what if he killed them? If these guys had some trick up their sleeve, even if they couldn't harm Tony, they could easily cause trouble for Wanda and the others by simply guiding some dangerous beings to the Prime Universe.
Moreover, from Tony's perspective as a unique lifeform, this Editorial Department was, to put it bluntly, just a peculiar dimensional space.
Mr. Mxyzptlk from the Fifth Dimension could casually distort the rules of the entire Multiverse, making absurd mathematics like "1+1 = a fish" a tangible reality.
And Mr. Mxyzptlk was nothing more than an ordinary resident of the Fifth Dimension.
While the existence of these so-called author-editors might be more novel than that of beings from the Fifth Dimension, once you saw through it, that was all there was to it.
It was similar to a higher-dimensional being. A three-dimensional being can freely arrange the storyline of two-dimensional characters in a comic book, and do so in a way that those 2D characters never notice anything amiss.
The Editorial Department, to put it plainly, played this kind of role.
Tony had originally harbored a trace of hostility towards the Editorial Department, but now, seeing this chaotic scene, he found it utterly laughable.
"These author-editors are all doppelgangers... They're just one person who's been copied countless times."
Tony stroked his chin, smiling.
In truth, the term doppelganger didn't imply there was an "original," because every doppelganger was identical to every other. Every doppelganger was the original, and every original was also a doppelganger.
For example, when Slim first jumped into the Decaying Universe, a dozen of him suddenly appeared. The one who was ultimately victorious, One, was convinced he had killed his replicas. But to the other dozen Ones, each one felt they were the original, and the others were vile copies.
So it was an unsolvable paradox. This multiverse's replication ability copied everything perfectly. Every individual was real; it was simply impossible to explain.
This was also why multiversal beings generally hated seeing a crowd of themselves all shouting, "I'm the real me!"
Tony shook his head slightly, unconcerned, and turned to leave. The entire process was silent. In any case, he now knew the truth of the Editorial Department, so there was no need to be the one to stick his neck out.
"First, I need to find a place to recuperate for a while. If I go back in this state, I'll only bring harm to Wanda and the others."
Tony looked at his own body, which was madly dispersing and gathering information, and shook his head helplessly. He was extremely exhausted right now and desperately needed to rest, then slowly rein in the vast amount of information he was radiating.
The moment Tony truly left, a new conversation was taking place in the Editorial Department.
"Number Ninety-Nine, are you still looking for One?"
"Yeah, I have no idea where that guy ran off to. He had me add some inexplicable storyline, and then he just vanished."
Number Ninety-Nine was very troubled, clutching his hair as his chubby body was squeezed into his chair.
"What did that guy have you add?"
"Oh, it was to rewrite someone's fate, a bystander who was supposed to die during the battle between the Hulk and the Abomination," Number Ninety-Nine replied. "Although I don't know why, something that minor is within my authority, so I helped him out. But..."
Number Ninety-Nine said, vexed, "Now, not only can I not find One, I can't even find that bystander whose fate I rewrote..."
(end of chapter)
"Everything is normal at the Source Wall."
"As of now, I haven't found any trace of Savitar. I can't find him at all! Will someone help me!!"
"There's been a minor fluctuation in the Speed Force. It seems someone has traveled through the timeline. I'm closely monitoring the situation..."
"Strange! Doomsday has suddenly abandoned the universe it nearly destroyed and is heading toward the Prime Universe like a madman! The reason is unknown!"
"Trigon's clone has been defeated, destroyed by the wielder of the Infinity Stones. We need to pay close attention to Trigon's movements and be wary of him lashing out in desperation!"
"Watch what you say, or that Kryptonian dog Krypto might come out and bite you."
"It's fine, I won't let the Kryptos find out. Those little white dogs couldn't find us in ten thousand years!"
...
In an incredibly spacious and bright, gigantic conference room, countless figures were bustling about. They came and went, each holding something in their hands, rushing around in a hurry.
Only a very small number of people were extremely relaxed, leisurely propping their feet up on tables, whistling, and enjoying various beverages in hand as they gloated at their busy colleagues.
Some who walked by glared at the relaxed guys with resentful eyes, roaring, "Bastard, we should switch jobs! Why am I so busy while you're so damn lazy!"
"Now, now, old pal. I am you, and you are me. We are all ourselves. What I enjoy, you enjoy—oh, and don't worry, I'll enjoy your share for you, too, as compensation."
"You bastard! Number 7739, you really should just go and die!"
The man walked away, muttering curses and holding a large stack of files, a look of displeasure on his face.
"I protest! Number 7739, switch with me. I'll take the Source Wall, and you can be responsible for the Speed Force Wall. How about it?"
"Oh, my, my, how could I do that? The Source Wall is far too important, with so many secrets and mysteries. Only someone as dedicated and dutiful as myself can handle this job~ I stare at the Source Wall day in and day out, overexerting myself daily, all for the safety of our Editorial Department~~~"
The person who asked was trembling with anger and cursed, "Who doesn't know the Source Wall is the least likely place to have problems? Countless gods are stuck to the Source Wall, unable to break free to this day. Even they haven't figured out its secrets, let alone you!"
Arguments like this were all too common in the massive conference room, but for as many people were arguing, even more were busy working. Some were pressing down on paper, writing and drawing; some were typing away at computers; and some were painfully clutching their hair, contemplating some difficult problem.
These people were the authors and editors of the Editorial Department. They lived here, each responsible for their own tasks.
Some were tall, some were short, some were fat, some were thin, but one only needed to pay attention to a single point: they were all, in essence, the same person.
The same face, the same genes, the same soul, and the same essence of an ordinary human, without a shred of supernatural power.
Beyond the Fourth Wall, a black light concealed everything.
Tony stood within a black light mass invisible to the naked eye, watching the people in the Editorial Department thoughtfully from behind the transparent wall.
The Plot Gem was held in Tony's hand, unleashing its dimension-hopping ability.
This was the very thing Deadpool relied on to enter and exit the Editorial Department at will.
However, the gem had been taken by One, and now it had fallen into Tony's hands.
"The Editorial Department... it's quite lively..."
Tony watched the various scenes in the Editorial Department from behind the Fourth Wall, finding it somewhat amusing. He had already seen more than a few of them get into fistfights, wrestling in a heap.
If he wanted to, he could rush in at any moment and slaughter all of these ordinary humans.
But again, there was little point.
So what if he killed them? If these guys had some trick up their sleeve, even if they couldn't harm Tony, they could easily cause trouble for Wanda and the others by simply guiding some dangerous beings to the Prime Universe.
Moreover, from Tony's perspective as a unique lifeform, this Editorial Department was, to put it bluntly, just a peculiar dimensional space.
Mr. Mxyzptlk from the Fifth Dimension could casually distort the rules of the entire Multiverse, making absurd mathematics like "1+1 = a fish" a tangible reality.
And Mr. Mxyzptlk was nothing more than an ordinary resident of the Fifth Dimension.
While the existence of these so-called author-editors might be more novel than that of beings from the Fifth Dimension, once you saw through it, that was all there was to it.
It was similar to a higher-dimensional being. A three-dimensional being can freely arrange the storyline of two-dimensional characters in a comic book, and do so in a way that those 2D characters never notice anything amiss.
The Editorial Department, to put it plainly, played this kind of role.
Tony had originally harbored a trace of hostility towards the Editorial Department, but now, seeing this chaotic scene, he found it utterly laughable.
"These author-editors are all doppelgangers... They're just one person who's been copied countless times."
Tony stroked his chin, smiling.
In truth, the term doppelganger didn't imply there was an "original," because every doppelganger was identical to every other. Every doppelganger was the original, and every original was also a doppelganger.
For example, when Slim first jumped into the Decaying Universe, a dozen of him suddenly appeared. The one who was ultimately victorious, One, was convinced he had killed his replicas. But to the other dozen Ones, each one felt they were the original, and the others were vile copies.
So it was an unsolvable paradox. This multiverse's replication ability copied everything perfectly. Every individual was real; it was simply impossible to explain.
This was also why multiversal beings generally hated seeing a crowd of themselves all shouting, "I'm the real me!"
Tony shook his head slightly, unconcerned, and turned to leave. The entire process was silent. In any case, he now knew the truth of the Editorial Department, so there was no need to be the one to stick his neck out.
"First, I need to find a place to recuperate for a while. If I go back in this state, I'll only bring harm to Wanda and the others."
Tony looked at his own body, which was madly dispersing and gathering information, and shook his head helplessly. He was extremely exhausted right now and desperately needed to rest, then slowly rein in the vast amount of information he was radiating.
The moment Tony truly left, a new conversation was taking place in the Editorial Department.
"Number Ninety-Nine, are you still looking for One?"
"Yeah, I have no idea where that guy ran off to. He had me add some inexplicable storyline, and then he just vanished."
Number Ninety-Nine was very troubled, clutching his hair as his chubby body was squeezed into his chair.
"What did that guy have you add?"
"Oh, it was to rewrite someone's fate, a bystander who was supposed to die during the battle between the Hulk and the Abomination," Number Ninety-Nine replied. "Although I don't know why, something that minor is within my authority, so I helped him out. But..."
Number Ninety-Nine said, vexed, "Now, not only can I not find One, I can't even find that bystander whose fate I rewrote..."
(end of chapter)
