Chapter 93

At the New Town harbor, Shinji stood with his hands on his hips, laughing heartily. The kids around him displayed a variety of expressions: admiration, frustration, determination, and resolve for a rematch.

"Hahaha, I'm the strongest!" Shinji boasted, holding a thick stack of cards he'd won from the kids.

"Don't get too cocky, seaweed head big brother!"

"Yeah, I'll definitely win them back tomorrow!"

"Is it really fun to bully kids? What's there to be happy about?"

"Exactly!"

"No excuses! A bet's a bet!" Shinji shouted, cutting off their protests. "Who called me seaweed head? Stand up! Won't confess? If anyone points them out, I'll buy them a soda!"

"That's too sneaky! Using such underhanded tactics!"

The kid who had likely called him seaweed head voiced his displeasure.

"Hoho, was it you, little brat?" Shinji smirked.

"What... what do you want?" The kid swallowed nervously.

Just as Shinji was about to tease the kid further, a man's haughty voice interrupted.

"Oh? The strongest? Quite bold to claim that, kid!"

Looking at Gilgamesh in his black biker outfit, his mouth curled into a scornful smile, holding a stack of limited edition Yu-Gi-Oh cards, Shinji had to stifle a curse. Why was this guy here?

...

"Go, big brother Goldie!"

"You've got to win, big brother Goldie!"

The kids surrounded Gilgamesh, cheering him on. Opposite him, Shinji sat with only a few kids by his side, a stark contrast to Gilgamesh's popularity.

Shinji thought: Damn it... Fine, I'll play this strange king and get it over with.

The coin toss decided it: Gilgamesh would go first.

"It's my turn! Draw!"

...

As the last rays of the sunset faded, their game concluded.

The result...

"Hahaha, I'm the strongest!" Gilgamesh laughed heartily, hands on his hips, surrounded by cheering kids. Even though Shinji usually didn't care about such things, he felt a sudden surge of annoyance.

"What a shame, you almost won... Just one more move and you could have turned the tables," a kid beside Shinji said regretfully. "And his luck was too good! Always drawing powerful cards, while you kept getting normal ones."

"Luck is also a kind of strength," Shinji shrugged nonchalantly, then stood up, admitting defeat. "I lost."

Seeing Shinji's lack of regret, Gilgamesh's eyes showed a hint of admiration.

"The countless strategies and traps you used in this game brought me great joy. I will always accept your challenge, kid!"

After leaving these words, Gilgamesh walked away, still being watched by the children. Shinji showed no emotion, but as he dismissed the kids and picked up the fish basket to go home, a subtle smile formed on his face.

...

In his past life, Shinji wasn't a big fan of Gilgamesh, nor was he a critic. He had read discussions on forums by fans and critics alike but found them shallow.

People often talked about his looks, his domineering CEO vibe, his cruelty to young girls, his foul mouth. But for Shinji, these were all surface-level traits.

To understand Gilgamesh truly, these traits were meaningless.

Whether it was his looks, his wealth, his cruelty, his "Chaotic Good" alignment, his roles in various storylines—all these differences in character depiction didn't matter. The core of Gilgamesh's character was far beyond these aspects.

Gilgamesh's status, vision, and position were far above ordinary people.

Some compared him to other kings, like the Emperor or Saber, debating their virtues and flaws. But such comparisons missed the point because Gilgamesh and these other rulers were fundamentally different kinds of kings.

Saber tied her fate to her people and land, sharing in their prosperity and decline. When Britain fell, Saber felt she had lost everything.

Similarly, the Emperor's identity was bound to his people. Without them, his "Army of the King" would not exist.

But Gilgamesh was different.

5000 years ago, he bore everything, and this "everything" did not change with time or the fall of Babylon. Even today, the world was still his garden.

Gilgamesh truly loved this garden even now.

This love defined his self-identity. Concepts like morality, goodness, and others' opinions were trivial to him.

What is morality? In Uruk, he embodied both good and evil.

What is law? He created the earliest human laws.

So, his actions, whether cruel or kind, were expressions of his self-will, not bound by concepts of right or wrong.

As he said—

The king acknowledges, allows, and bears the world!

He bore the world on his shoulders then, and still does now. What need for moral limits or ties to land and people?

His beloved garden still stood.

To Gilgamesh, the kingdom was still a kingdom, he was still everything, and his garden stretched to the ends of humanity's reach.

Therefore, judgments of him as good or bad, right or wrong, were superficial.

His core was "self-will." This could bring good or bad outcomes, but results didn't matter. Gilgamesh acted on his will, that was all.

This "self-will" was so strong it couldn't be tainted even by corruption.

In the age of Uruk, he truly was everything.

Additionally, Shinji thought Gilgamesh was very lonely.

People often called Gilgamesh a fool or reckless, but in truth, his understanding of those around him was profound.

Whether it was Kirei, Shirou, Saber, or Sakura, Gilgamesh's insights into them were always accurate. Such a person couldn't be fundamentally foolish.

He might not always be smart, but he was never shallow.

In fact, his inner perspective was more elevated than anyone else's.

While he and Kirei seemed to get along, in truth, Kirei was just another "object" or "toy" for Gilgamesh. Real conversations about his kingdom or friends would bore him.

His inner "height" meant no one could truly understand Gilgamesh's psychology.

To Gilgamesh, others were like ants, "mongrels." This wasn't just talk; he genuinely saw them that way.

In this ugly era, few were worth his attention. Others were mere decorations.

This was his loneliness and sorrow:

Though he still loved his garden, Babylon was long gone;

His friends were dust, his subjects long deceased.

In this era, no one could stand with him as a king who defined and bore everything.

He remained the "most ancient king," but to most, he was just a golden-haired fool.

As Enkidu said—

After I die, who will understand you? Who will walk with you?

No one. Not Tokiomi, not Kirei, not Saber, not the Emperor—no one.

Amidst modern decadence, he walked alone...