Sky Curtain: The Darwin Incident at the outset, the Declaration of the People's League

"Admit it, you could have become me anyway."

“I just went into your garage before you went into mine.”

"But you did it anyway."

You've moved into my house!

Jacket Rick roared, the protagonist Rick's left punch dealing high damage, and his right punch dealing high damage. Punch after punch, he beat Jacket Rick to death.

Blood splattered all over the room.

He himself was covered in blood.

As darkness fell, the sky began to play fragmented footage from the past.

Young Rick held his newborn Beth, his face beaming with the joy of becoming a father for the first time.

Rick and Diane are dancing in the lab, with a bunch of messy inventions in the background.

Rick took little Beth to the amusement park, where Beth rode on his shoulders, smiling brightly.

Then came the night of the explosion. Ruins. Charred photographs. Empty wine bottles.

A figure traversing countless universes.

Countless Ricks, countless choices.

A solitary statue in Ruicheng.

The central finite curve—that wall that separates itself from all possibilities.

Finally, there's the silhouette of someone slumped in a chair in the garage, holding a bottle of liquor.

This is Rick, a genius, but also a madman.

In a sense, Jacket Rick is right.

[If the roles were reversed, and Rick, the protagonist, developed the cross-dimensional technology first, he would most likely do it.]

He lost Diane across all universes, killed his enemies, and survived.

But what is the meaning of his life?

He was lonely, and no one could understand him.

He will forever live in pain.

Moreover, no one knows his pain, and no one can understand it.

Extreme nihilism—this is a state that everyone who steps into the infinite universe will experience.

Infinity represents the possibility of everything, and it represents that nothing really matters.

If you do it, others will do it; if you don't do it, others will still do it.

Finding enjoyment throughout the universe is simply a way to experience the feeling of being alive.

I care about nothing but revenge.

Life is cheap; everything can be replaced.

Everything is meaningless.

[Whether before or after revenge is achieved, it's always the same... Oh, maybe it's a little different after revenge, since the protagonist Morty already has a very deep bond with him.]

In short, this is the loneliest genius in the universe.

Rick Sanchez

Rick?

"Ah."

"Are you ok?"

Rick was silent for a moment, then raised the bottle.

“Wubba Lubba Dub Dub”.

Chapter 49

Putting everything else aside, his terrifying research ability alone is enough to make countless self-proclaimed geniuses blush with shame.

Transcending dimensions and traversing countless parallel worlds—that teleportation gun unlocks infinite possibilities.

An Omega device that can completely annihilate a person in all universes, and can be reused repeatedly.

The world is divided, countless universes are separated and locked, and the path to infinity is blocked by a central finite curve.

He drew a cage for himself, but also left all his enemies with nowhere to escape.

From small things, one can see the big picture; from a small part, one can see the whole picture.

Any one of these three technologies is something that countless worlds could never hope to achieve even if they exhausted all their potential.

Ironically, all three of these technologies originated from the same person.

This is enough to prove how terrifying he is.

What's even more terrifying is that this person is also a madman.

He had been driven forward by hatred for decades, but deep down he was an extremely empty nihilist.

There are no people I truly care about, no things I truly care about; I live my days immersed in pain and alcohol.

A person with this ability doesn't care about anything.

That's the place that truly sends chills down your spine.

—The World of Rick and Morty—

In the sky, the self has avenged their great grudge, but in reality, the self is still struggling to catch the culprit.

Rick felt a sudden headache, his temples throbbing as if a group of little people were having a party inside him.

Through the celestial screen, he learned a lot about the opponent's trump cards—this was a good thing.

But Jack Rick can definitely see the sky and will take measures to deal with everything, hiding himself even deeper.

That bastard has been playing this cat-and-mouse game for decades. Anyone with a brain knows what he'll do next.

They're both Ricks, and they're evenly matched; neither can break the other's moves.

What frustrated him most was that he only managed to defeat Jacket Rick with the help of that scoundrel Morty...

“M******F***!”

He couldn't help but curse aloud, his voice echoing in the cramped garage.

Doesn't this mean he's actually inferior to Jack Rick?

"dad."

The garage door was pushed open, and dim light squeezed in through the crack, casting a long shadow on the floor.

Beth stood in the doorway, her eyes red-rimmed, tears welling up in them.

Rick paused for a moment.

"Oh, Beth, what's wrong? Oh, is it about cloning you? Don't worry, I won't do it without your permission..."

Beth shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"...Not this matter?"

Rick's gaze shifted towards the living room, where Jerry was huddled in the corner of the sofa, pretending he didn't exist.

"Jerry, what stupid thing have you done now?!"

Rick suddenly stood up, spitting everywhere.

Because Jacket Rick appeared in the sky, and in the future, he unusually expelled all the alcohol from his body today in order to obtain accurate information.

As for how it was done, that's none of the scientists' business.

"Hey! Why are you blaming me for this?"

Jerry's voice came from the living room, tinged with that familiar grievance: "It was clearly your doing! What the screen said—"

"Jerry—!"

Beth interrupted with a shout, and the living room fell silent instantly.

Then, she said nothing.

She simply stepped forward, opened her arms, and hugged her father tightly.

Rick stood frozen in place.

His hands were hanging in mid-air, unsure of where to put them.

Listening to his daughter's suppressed sobs and feeling her slightly trembling shoulders, Rick fell silent.

Beth buried her face in his chest and said in a muffled voice, "I know. But I just... just suddenly remembered that you've always been alone."

Rick didn't say anything.

The garage lights were dim and warm, illuminating the figures of the father and daughter embracing.

—Scissor Seven World—

The sea breeze is salty and damp, and the waves crash against the rocks.

Wu Liuqi sat on the reef where he often stayed, staring blankly at the sea, motionless, like a statue.

"Ah Qi, what are you thinking about?"

Chicken Da Bao, with a cigar in his mouth, slowly walked over and squatted down beside him.

"I was thinking about Rick." Wu Liuqi scratched his head, his hair, already ruffled by the sea breeze, became even more disheveled. "He's really pitiful."

"Tragic?" Chicken Da Bao exhaled a smoke ring. "Hiss—it really is tragic. His wife and children were killed, and it took him decades to get revenge. He killed so many people, and in the end? After getting revenge, he's still sitting alone in the garage drinking."

He paused, then took another puff of his cigar.

"If a person has no goals in life, what's the difference between them and a salted fish? If they don't even have a reason to live, they might do anything."