My Wife Is a Scientist 157. YAMA and other underworld kings complain about Karl and

HELL COMPLAINS

The underworlds had never agreed on much, but they agreed on this: sothing was deeply, hilariously wrong, and the deal of what it ans to know reality could be far greater than you think. The thing is, this cannot beco the ideal one that we wanted to face. Nothing shall begin according to what they were thinking.

In a vast chamber that existed in the cracks between every concept of Hell, the rulers of the dead had gathered. Not by invitation. Not by status. Not by fa. Not by talking. By necessity. The air tasted of sulfur, lotus smoke, frost, and old papyrus that they needed from the bottom of their hearts. What is more, shadows moved like bored bureaucrats waiting for their next case, and the real deal was going to take care of many campaigns.

At the head of the fractured table sat a loose alliance of the supre beings, their forms shifting and blending into one another, as if they were reflections in a broken mirror. Each ruler had their own agenda, yet a singular purpose united them: the impending chaos that threatened to spill over from the mortal realm into their dominion. Whispers echoed through the chamber, laden with tension, as they deliberated on strategies to manipulate the unfolding events to their advantage.beings, each representing a different realm of tornt and despair. Their eyes glead with ancient knowledge, and their voices, though quiet, resonated with the weight of countless souls. As they deliberated, a sense of urgency perated the air; a storm of chaos was brewing in the mortal world, one that could either strengthen their dominion or unravel the very fabric of their existence. The more they would look into the abyss, the more the abyss would look into you.

Satan or Lucifer, or Iblis depending on which tongue was currently winning lounged in a throne made of lted crowns, wings half-spread, looking equal parts amused and pissed off. Beside him, Beelzebub chewed on sothing that used to be a soul as if it were a videoga, while Asmodeus sharpened his claws on the edge of the table with theatrical boredom and liberty.

Hades sat across from them, Persephone’s hand resting on his, both looking mildly irritated that their quiet bureaucracy had been disturbed. Tartarus rumbled in the corner like a primordial hangover that refused to leave.The tension in the room crackled like static, each figure eyeing the others with a mix of disdain and curiosity. It was a delicate balance of power, and at any mont, the fragile peace could shatter, unleashing chaos upon the very fabric of their realm and what can be done with the most insane capacities possible.

Yama stood tall and stern, staff planted, while Yanluo Wang and the other Nine Kings of Diyu shuffled scrolls that kept rewriting themselves. Hel leaned against a wall of ice, half her face smirking and reconstruction the most capital ti. Mictlāntēcutli clicked his skeletal jaw, spider legs tapping impatiently. Osiris sat in quiet judgnt, Anubis weighing an invisible heart beside him with growing frustration.

Satan finally broke the silence with a low, theatrical laugh.

Satan: That is to say that the boy and his sister have lost their goddamn minds. Karl Oga Yang walks out of Helheim like he just finished a light stroll and a cup of tea. This is a ss. I DO NOT LIKE IT.The thing is, this love cannot pretend it does not include walking through every unfinished piece of himself and then deciding to bring it ho for dinner. Now my demons are filing complaints. Complaints! “The mortals are being too honest down here. It’s ruining the vibe.” thIs is extrely stupid.

Beelzebub snorted, flies buzzing around his head in lazy circles.

Beelzebub: My Gluttony layer is half-empty. Souls who used to gorge themselves for eternity are suddenly… content. They’re sharing. Sharing! One of them told “rcy trained for a hundred million years tastes better than eternal hunger.” I nearly vomited on principle. What is more, I was trying to hold myself back from crying.

Asmodeus leaned back, grinning with too many teeth.

Asmodeus: Lust is even worse. My succubi keep coming back rejected. The boy’s sister Emma, the one carrying three goddesses like it’s normal looked one of them dead in the eye and said, “I descend and rise for love, not performance.” Now half my domain is in couples therapy. Couples therapy in Hell. That is to say that no one could ever pretend lust alone is enough without the middle way kicking the door down. This has beco unbearable.

Hades rubbed his temple, Persephone hiding a smile behind her hand.

Hades: My realm was orderly. Quiet. Now shades are… moving on. Voluntarily. One old warrior looked at and said, “I think I’m ready to finish this.” Finish it! As if death was a chapter and not the whole damn book. This cannot continue being this way. I am more capable than they think I am.

Tartarus rumbled like distant thunder trapped in a bottle.

Tartarus: The abyss is leaking. Souls I’ve held for millennia are slipping through cracks made of… honest endings. THIS IS NONESENSE. Why would I take this shit. The boy’s rcy is worse than any chain. Chains can be broken. This? This makes them choose to leave.

Yama’s stern face remained impassive, but his staff tapped once against the floor.

Yama: In my halls, karma is precise. Balanced. Now souls who should be paying for lifetis of greed are achieving sudden clarity after “eting the Axis.” The thing is, this love cannot pretend it does not include rewriting the scales themselves. The more you think about this, the more ilogical this becos. Yanluo Wang’s ledgers are rewriting themselves mid-judgnt. Mid-judgnt!

Yanluo Wang threw one of the scrolls on the table in disgust. It imdiately turned into a small blue lotus and blood.

Yanluo Wang: One soul looked at and said, “I think I’ve carried this long enough.” Carried it long enough! In Diyu! We are supposed to be eternal bureaucracy, not… group therapy for the damned. Co on! this is my kingdom. I AM THE KING HERE.

Hel smirked, half her face rotting, the other half radiant. She was as beautiful as the last mont of a lover and as dangerous as darkness itself.

Hel: I do not think the sa. I LOVE KARL!!!!!!!!!!

Mictlāntēcutli clicked his skeletal teeth, owl eyes glowing.

Mictlāntēcutli: In Mictlán they are laughing. Laughing at death. Spiders weave flowers instead of traps. Bats carry souls upward instead of dragging them down. The boy and his sister are making my spiders blush.

Osiris remained silent for a long mont, Anubis’s scales tipping wildly beside him.

Osiris: The heart-weighing has beco… rciful. Too rciful. Souls who should fail are passing because they faced their unfinished pieces and chose to carry them ho. The boy’s honesty is rewriting Ma’at itself. That is to say that no one could ever pretend justice alone is enough without the middle way walking through the scales and smiling.

Satan leaned forward, eyes gleaming with dark delight and genuine irritation.

Satan: So what do we do about the mortal who taught gods how to rest and the sister who carries three goddesses like it’s Tuesday? Because if they keep this up, Hell won’t be Hell anymore. It’ll be… a very long, very honest vacation.

The rulers of the dead looked at each other across the fractured table.

For the first ti in eternity, the lords of every underworld felt sothing dangerously close to agreent.

They were losing their jobs.

And the two mortals from a small house in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, were the reason why.

Sowhere far above, in that sa small house, Karl sat at the kitchen table with his wives, his sister who now carried three goddesses, and his father, drinking tea that still rembered how to be warm.

The underworlds were watching.

And for the first ti, they were the ones who felt… unfinished.