The 5th Layer's "Special Residential Zone" was where the Divine Citizens resided.

Long, long ago—so distant it now seemed like myth—before they ever fell into this world, this place had once been home to the gods themselves.

"But now... there's no one left."

Monkyspanner sighed quietly, a strange weight in his chest.

He remembered those days—vividly, even—but oddly enough, the memories from before their descent into this world felt... detached. Like scenes read in an old book or watched in an ancient film. The events were there, but the emotions? Blurred.

The High Priest of Death called this phenomenon a kind of side effect from the fall. But Monkyspanner wasn't convinced.

Still, there was no answer to be found in pondering such things—so he simply shook his head and cast the thoughts aside.

He remembered clearly, though. Back when Shinshi, the Twelve Thrones, stood at their most glorious.

When the Twelve Divine Kings reigned supreme, and thousands of gods followed in their wake. When the Special Residential Zone was filled with their divine presence.

The gods soared across the Nine Realms, and the Divine Citizens—those like Monkyspanner—served them.

They supported them, fought alongside them, and protected their dreams.

But that radiance... was now just a memory. A legend etched in history.

One by one, the gods left—abandoning their divine cities, their thrones, even their creations.

And only one remained: the Dragon King, once the sovereign of the Twelve Divine Thrones.

Now, he alone slumbered upon the empty seat of divinity, resting eternally in solitude and sorrow, dreaming perhaps of the gods who had vanished.

Thus, the Dragon King became their only god.

Though he spoke not a single word… though he neither watched nor judged… though he had simply slept for two hundred years—the people of Shinshi all believed:

"He is with us."

All that Shinshi was, all that it had, was given by Him.

Their god existed—and because He existed, so too did Shinshi.

That truth was carved not just into their souls, but into the very core of their being.

Because God exists—we exist.

Even if He slumbers.

Even if He never speaks.

As long as He remains with them—that alone was enough.

Enough to give meaning to their lives.

Enough to let them breathe.

Whenever Monkyspanner recalled that truth, emotion welled within him—nearly unbearable in its intensity.

But he pushed it down. He had lost control too many times in the past from overwhelming reverence, and now wasn't the time.

"Who's there…? S-Sir Monkyspanner! Welcome, sir!"

"Ah, thank you. May I pass through?"

"Of course! There is no place in all of Shinshi where a High Priest is not welcome!"

The beastman soldier posted at the gate to the Special Zone saluted with urgency.

Monkyspanner chuckled and gave the soldier a gentle pat on the head with his massive hand.

The sharp ears atop the young man's head twitched at the contact—coarse, prickly fur brushing against his palm.

At a glance, one might mistake him for a fox, but he was, in fact, a wolf beastman.

Monkyspanner grinned.

"Oh? I can think of one place even I'm forbidden—like the King's Hall at the heart of the 6th Layer, hmm?"

"Wha—?! T-that's blasphemy, sir! Such talk…!"

The guard paled instantly.

The King's Hall—the sanctum of sanctums, even during the age of the gods—was a place where only the Divine King and those granted explicit permission could enter.

Even the High Priests had no access.

In all of Shinshi, there was no space more sacred, more forbidden.

Not even Monkyspanner—or any of the Twelve High Priests—had entered that throne room since the day the gods vanished and the Dragon King fell into his eternal slumber.

"S-such words, even from you, are sacrilege, sir! The Dragon King might be angered!"

"Relax. Just a joke. Carry on."

"Y-yes, sir!"

Leaving the trembling, ghost-pale guard behind, Monkyspanner stepped through the gate.

That one was far too mentally green to be guarding this place, he thought with annoyance. Physically, he was strong enough—but his discipline? Lacking.

Was he even a Divine Citizen? Or merely a Royal one?

If it turned out he was a Royal Citizen assigned here, someone was going to get a serious reprimand.

But then again... what was there to guard down here anymore?

No threats. No purpose. Just a post to fill.

"Still… it really has been a long time."

The Special Residential Zone.

Once, it had been the realm of the gods. The space where their divine presence danced freely, where miracles were commonplace.

Even the General Residential Zone was enough to leave outsiders breathless, but this—this place—was something else entirely.

A city of dreams, dazzling with impossible colors and heavenly architecture.

If the lower layers were a paradise buried underground, then this was something far beyond.

A fantasy world that no other place could ever hope to match.

This place was, quite literally, a city of the gods.

While it was smaller than the General Residential Zone, the city was empowered by what was known as the Housing System—and its capabilities far surpassed anything in the outer districts.

One such ability was Transformation.

The buildings of the Special Residential Zone were not bound by fixed form.

As long as spatial boundaries, material limitations, and cost allowed—it could transform freely.

A tranquil grove one day could become a transparent glass aquarium the next... and by the third day, a chamber encircled by bubbling lava.

Of course, frequent transformations required equivalent offerings.

Still, the fact that one could own a space that bent to their will?

That alone was already outrageous.

Which meant... special-use facilities weren't really necessary here.

If you needed something—you simply created it.

And yet, those who lived here permanently were few.

Most Divine Citizens concealed their status and chose to dwell in the General Residential Zone.

Naturally, if discovered, they'd be dragged back here immediately—and banned from returning for decades, in addition to paying a hefty fine.

And still, many tried to escape this fantastical city and flee to the mundane world outside.

Of course... they always came back eventually.

Because no matter how hard they tried, Divine Citizens and Royal Citizens could never truly coexist.

No matter how hard they struggled... it was a boundary that could not be crossed.

Eventually, they'd give up and return.

It was inevitable.

To be frank, it was probably heresy—using this sacred space, once graced by the gods, for such selfish purposes...

But the gods were long gone.

And the one god who remained—the Dragon King—slept soundly, giving no commands.

So they made use of it.

Because if they didn't separate the Divine and the Royal, the kingdom would have collapsed into chaos.

"Phew... things really have changed."

Strolling through the dreamlike streets of the Special Residential Zone, Monkyspanner continued the train of thought he'd begun in the elevator.

Only twenty years had passed since his last return—and yet everything from before felt like ancient history.

Well, it was technically over 170 years ago, but while living in Shinshi, time had felt... suspended.

Now that he'd been outside… things that once seemed recent now felt like relics of another era. His perspective had shifted somehow.

Monkyspanner always thought he'd changed a lot during his time outside, but now—facing it like this—it truly hit home.

"Heh… well, it's all in the past anyway."

That's what he told himself.

But reminiscing like this inevitably drew him deeper into old emotions.

Yes... it had all started when that one undeniable difference emerged between Divine Citizens and Royal Citizens—

A difference in lifespan.

That was when the kingdom was plunged into disaster… into overwhelming chaos.

Walking slowly, Monkyspanner allowed his memories to continue flowing.

...

Flashback Begins

No matter how you looked at it, the chaos that followed was unavoidable.

Divine Citizens, governed by the god's will, received His Blessing.

Royal Citizens, governed by the kingdom, did not.

Think about it:

Two people of the same race, the same power level—and yet one would wither and die from old age, while the other lived on, unaging, even reversing the clock…

How could that possibly feel fair?

Sure, someone strong like a High Priest could surpass the limits of their race and extend their life.

But this... this was beyond that.

A massive research campaign began. Hundreds of magic casters and scholars worked tirelessly to understand the reason.

And finally—they discovered it.

No, not just discovered it. They uncovered it.

And the result, presented by the kingdom's greatest mind—the High Priest of Death—was something so outrageous, it bordered on absurd.