Rick and Morty: My Grandfather is Rick?

Exaggerating the threat.

Handle it impartially.

The reason why Grandpa asked him to kill the current director of the Divine Bureau must have been to create a power struggle and force the other party to exaggerate the threat.

An enemy has even reached the capital of the empire!

They even killed an important figure!

Isn't that dangerous?!

Isn't that terrifying?!

They've even reached our hometown!

The Divine Bureau will inevitably need to select a new director and provide a massive amount of manpower and resources to revive this ancient department.

At this point, as an organization's internal staff grows, it will inevitably need more management personnel.

That guy from Normartin has a good chance of making it into management.

What if he can't get in?

Such a useless person, he should just go to bed and find a more relaxed department where he can spend his life drinking tea and reading newspapers.

Turbulent times are the best time for every ambitious person.

As long as he has this ambition and is willing to collude with his grandfather, he will inevitably rise to a high position with a series of assists.

As his status and power increased, he gained access to more confidential documents of the Galactic Empire and learned more secrets.

There must be a way to extinguish the fire of the divine kingdom inside!

Having figured this out, Morty had other ideas; his cult was now in a precarious situation.

What if we put them into the direct forces of the Divine Department?

From a third-rate, marginal fleet, can it quickly rise to a first-rate fleet?

If I find a way to collect a few more gods and send them to my deaths, wouldn't my benefits and treatment increase dramatically?

Then they won't complain to themselves about this and that every day.

All they do is sing praises.

They tried every possible way to flatter Morty.

And truly see yourself as a guiding light, not a jinx...

[That bastard Tzeentch, did he really think I wouldn't have noticed what tricks he was playing when I was in the Mirror City?]

"Alright, alright, the prerequisite for a two-pronged approach is figuring out how to get rid of that bureau chief; otherwise, it's all for nothing."

Moty was jolted awake from his daydreaming by his grandfather's voice, and he glared at him unhappily.

Being around someone who is particularly good at guessing what others are thinking.

It's really fucking annoying!

After regaining his senses, Morty also started to get into the zone.

He felt that the real purpose of this mission was to find an opportunity for Normartin and his henchmen to improve their status.

Therefore, this operation must be carried out with extreme caution in the early stages, and must be conducted stealthily so as not to be discovered by anyone.

Once you succeed, you must make a triumphant exit.

Ideally, it should have the feel of Zhao Zilong at Changbanpo.

He charged in and out seven times, then laughed and strode away!

Therefore, weapon selection can be divided into two parts: one part is the various covert operations tools carried in the early stages.

The other part is the big explosion!

"Grandpa, I need two parts of the weaponry. First, I need some stealthy, silent, and highly accurate weapons and tools."

"The second part, as the weapon to finish things off, needs to destroy as much as possible. It should be arrogant and domineering, ideally letting the entire empire know that I, Morty Smith, have killed a bureau chief in the imperial capital!"

Hearing Morty's unexpected request, Grandpa frowned, thought for a moment, turned around, and took out a Glock 47 with a silencer from the rows of gun cabinets behind him, placing it on the table between the two of them...

Looking at this weapon from the last century, and with a heart yearning for the weapon of the century after next, Morty remained silent for a long time before finally managing to utter a single sentence.

"Are you... kidding me?"

"Hey kid, ever played with modified guns?"

Chapter 150 Modifying Guns

"Three key elements of gun modification..."

"Grandpa, I think that sniper rifle is perfect for me. I can find a high vantage point, take out the enemies along the way, and then sneak up..."

"Let me hear you out first..."

"Grandpa, this Glock 47 is just too lame. No matter how I modify it, I feel it doesn't suit my style. We absolutely need a powerful gun..."

"Shut up! Or I'll make you, you piece of shit, roll around bare-handed and go play assassination!!"

Despite Morty's constant interruptions and insistence on getting the whole gun, Grandpa slammed his right hand on the table, picked up a Glock 47 with his left hand, and fired three shots at Morty.

The bullet left the barrel, piercing Morty's head, heart, and nails...

"Fuck! Aaaaaaah!!!"

"You actually shot me?!"

"Go to hell!!!"

"You old dog! You really were trying to kill me to silence me!!!"

Watching Morty writhe on the ground in pain, still trying to attack him.

After Grandpa activated an energy shield for himself, he spat without hesitation and then waited for the brat to recover on his own.

Hmm, one second later.

Morty, whose injuries had completely healed, covered his forehead with one hand and his heart with the other, asking in shock, "What happened? Where are my injuries? Hey! How did they get better all of a sudden!"

Grandpa, with his elbows resting on the gun cabinet and his right hand supporting his chin, spoke slowly.

"There's a protective force field here. No matter what kind of injury you suffer, you'll recover instantly. So... before you shoot yourself in the head, I need to remind you that this kind of protective force field exists everywhere on Hermusel Planet..."

boom! ! !

"Damn it... I shouldn't have brought up this protective field with you now..."

bang bang bang! ! !

Seeing Morty already pointing a gun at himself, Grandpa sighed and facepalmed, while also glancing at an old cell phone he pulled out of his pocket.

This battered cell phone was a gift he gave to Diane when Beth was born; it contained all the family photos from the past two years.

He pressed the unlock button on the right side of his phone and saw the photo on the screen. His eyes, which had always been cold-blooded in front of everyone, turned red.

Because in that photo, Diane, who had just given birth, lay on the bed looking weak but with a contented smile on her face, holding her newborn Beth in her arms, while he sat diagonally beside her.

Grandpa thought that he had hardened his heart by not turning on the phone all these years and could face those days full of laughter with a blank expression.

But with just one glance, his memories instantly transported him back to that day.

It was a pleasantly warm day. I, a young man, stood anxiously outside the delivery room. Even though I knew in my heart that nothing would go wrong, I was still very flustered.

He wandered aimlessly back and forth, his heart pounding until Beth's first cry upon entering the world finally put his mind at ease.

Mother and daughter are safe!

Inside the maternity ward, a warm, gentle breeze blew in through the open window, making every cell in your body cheer with joy. The white curtains fluttered in the breeze, and the air, carrying the scent of roses, made you feel as if everything in the world was celebrating Beth's birth.

The young husband and wife, their faces beaming with smiles of happiness for their wonderful life, and their peacefully sleeping baby Beth—this scene was forever frozen in time on that day.

Decades later, only one man, whose hands and heart have turned black, who has no bottom line and is on the verge of death, still does not forget to seek justice for his wife and daughter!

"Grandpa, why are your eyes red?"

Before anyone knew it, Morty, who had already put down his gun, was looking at his grandfather with a curious expression.

"nothing..."

Grandpa put his phone away and turned his attention back to choosing a weapon.

Seeing that his grandfather had become serious, Morty put aside his doubts and tried to appear as professional as possible before getting into the first phase of the operation: weapon selection.

However... he still doesn't want the Glock 47!

Damn it!

I'm already being quite restrained by not playing Berserker's Creed!

This Glock 47 absolutely needs to be replaced!

"Then what do you want?"

Seeing that his grandfather's attitude was softening, Morty pointed to the AK47 about twenty meters behind him on the right and said, "I want to use that!"

Grandpa: "Using an AK47 for stealth... are you serious?"

Morty: "Can't we modify the gun?"

Grandpa: "Okay...okay!"

When Morty saw that his grandfather had actually brought him the AK47, he was overjoyed and excitedly started playing with the legendary gun.

His fingerprints were left on every part of the gun.

After this foreplay, Morty began to listen carefully to his grandfather's crash course on gun modification.

Do you know the three key elements of gun modification?

"Is caliber the only measure of justice, accuracy the only measure of fairness, and rate of fire the only measure of truth?"

"It's all about ease of use! Ease of use! Ease of use! If you're not comfortable using a gun, no matter how well it's modified, you'll still feel uncomfortable using it! How can you maintain full concentration if you're not comfortable using a weapon?"

"Oh~"

Next, Morty began to make his selections, starting with the stock of the gun.