Rick and Morty: My Grandfather is Rick?

Stein brought a sack full of goddesses. Morty was a little modest, but his grandfather kicked him in the butt and called him a hypocrite. Then he quickly ran to a corner of the hospital, found a quiet and deserted place, and started a 1V1 duel on the court.

Just like a veteran golfer.

Although he hasn't played with all of Morty's dream girls—Jessica—he has engaged in numerous high, medium, and low-intensity matches against both human and non-human players on other courts.

Players with different playing styles have completely different offensive methods.

Some are like Nordic berserkers, dribbling the ball with both hands, their moves are fierce and powerful, often accompanied by a furious battle cry. In particular, compared to noble ladies who like riding horses, they prefer to make eye contact at extremely close range.

Some are like elegant gentlemen in ancient times, dressed in white robes, as if they stepped out of a painting or novel. Beneath their gentle and graceful appearance lies a heart well-versed in literature. Having absorbed a great deal of theoretical knowledge from books, they often like to combine theory with practice when playing ball, filling the entire court with the fun of experimenting with new knowledge.

For example, some people especially like horseback riding. They may have slender legs and smooth abdomens, but they have strong core muscle groups and strong high-frequency short-distance jumping ability. They can often switch the defensive and offensive roles when the male players don't expect it and successfully gain the advantage!

With such rich experience, Morty stood in the small room with only one light on the ceiling, facing the goddesses in bottles and jars, and naturally felt no stage fright whatsoever.

Instead, he acted as if he were doing official business, directly stating that he possessed the fire of the divine kingdom, and that you all knew the specific method of passing on the fire.

So...who goes first?

The goddesses, who had been inexplicably captured, immediately forgot their anger and became completely excited.

To be a true god or a deity—do we even need to think about that?

Of course it's the true God!

Morty randomly selected a purple-haired goddess as the opening act for everything that followed.

In the time that follows.

Veteran golfer Morty experienced firsthand what it means to face a goddess-level golfer in a 1v1 match on the course.

Some female golfers are extremely talented. They may have never actually stepped onto a court or played a single game, but they rely entirely on instinct, making Morty feel like he is caught in a whirlpool. With her innate talent, she seems to be dancing on the edge of a knife, but in reality, she walks on flat ground.

Some female players have a tough playing style, are full of energy and have explosive power. Every offensive attack before the rebound is always extremely fierce, giving people the feeling of being in a bullfighting arena, holding a red cloth to fight a bull. But she also knows very well how to control this fierceness.

Some female players, despite having average talent and physical fitness, are extremely skilled at rhythm. Their playing style emphasizes coordination between stillness and movement, and a balance of relaxation and moderation. They are neither like aggressive players who like head-on confrontations, nor like talented players who occasionally have flashes of brilliance. Everything they do is methodical, which greatly surprises male players.

After playing one game after another, Motti was exhausted in the last game, but he had to pull himself together for a greater goal.

Can you still hold on?

The woman before me, who seemed like an elf princess straight out of a fairy tale, had a face etched with worry, a face that exuded a delicate and fragile air.

Morty looked at her and struggled to his feet.

With each centimeter his body grew taller, his muscles groaned silently, sweat poured from his head to his calves, and his expression grew increasingly ferocious.

What pained him even more was that the hand he used to shoot baskets was covered in wounds after making more than forty shots!

Now, let alone making a basket, even lifting it has become extremely painful!

"Maybe I can help you."

The elven goddess stretched out her right hand and grasped it tightly with Morty's hand as he made his layup, a gentle energy slowly flowing into it.

This power relieved the muscle soreness, restored the vitality of the internal organs, and even calmed Morty's persistently high heart rate.

With all his physical injuries healed, Motti straightened his back once more, and a new and final match began.

Those ruthless female players, after scoring, simply abandoned themselves on the ground like discarding a used rag.

Of all the people present, only this elven goddess not only cared about his physical condition but also offered her help.

Morty decided to use all the knowledge he had acquired throughout his life!

After half an hour.

Morty, drenched in sweat, received her name.

I watched this gentle, kind, and lovely fairy goddess leave.

The next second, an old face that he least wanted to see appeared outside the door.

"Well done, you romantic!"

As soon as Grandpa walked in, he started criticizing a guy who was breathing heavily, deliberately ignoring his request.

Morty spat at his grandfather in disdain.

As Morty, how could he possibly let the pot go?

The purpose of life is to be happy!

"Forget it, you won't listen to any of this anyway. While you're here, we've already discussed what to do next."

"C137, focus on dealing with Dark Mordred. You come with me to rescue Sammy and Old K. Put your clothes on now, we're leaving."

"Ha!!!" Morty almost fainted on the spot when he heard that they were leaving now.

Who could possibly run to the Galactic Empire's detention center to rescue someone after playing dozens of consecutive ball games?

"Isn't this your own fault? Hurry up! Hurry up! We're already two hours late! Let's go!"

"Are you sure there wasn't any deliberate element involved in this delay?"

"Yes, I have some. Go ahead and bite me if you disagree."

"You son of a bitch!"

Chapter 176 Are you happy to see Jerry?

"I, Mohan, have returned three times... It's unlikely I'll ever come back..."

Sitting on the street near the Galactic Empire's detention center, he wanted to put his hands on his hips and act arrogantly, but he found it unusually difficult to do so today.

The boy who once stood tall and faced the storms head-on can now only sit on the side of the road, rubbing his back and complaining that his grandfather was deliberately tormenting him.

Who asks someone to come and do chores right after they've finished playing ball?

Sitting by the roadside, Morty sensed someone approaching him from behind. He turned around with difficulty, wincing in pain from his back.

When Morty saw Tzeentch holding a white spray bottle and gesturing for him to pull up his shirt, he silently turned around, pulled up his shirt, and began to miss the Tzeentch from before.

The previous Tzeentch was extremely ugly, his mind was full of scheming, and he had no human emotions whatsoever. He was a pure calculation machine, which is why he was exactly the kind of top talent that his Spaghetti Monster cult desperately needed.

Now, this cunning woman is very beautiful, and she's not as scheming as before. She even starts to care about me, making her a perfect candidate for a virtuous wife and loving mother.

But the problem is... I'm short of women!

What I'm lacking is top-tier talent!

Damn it!

Don't be so beautiful and kind-hearted!!!

Just as Morty was pondering when she should discuss with Tzeentch about restoring her to her original form.

My grandfather, who used to gather intelligence, came back whistling and swaying with light, quick steps, even carrying a bottle of wine in his hand.

"Hiccup~ Okay, loser, I've already asked around in the department. Sangmei and Lao Ke are being held together right now, their cell is on the side closest to the window."

"However, there's one problem: from that window to the road outside, there's about twenty meters of space, and it's equipped with almost everything you'd expect—lasers, landmines, guards, and so on."

"Since you're planning to crash into it head-on, I guess you also intend to use the power of the gods to break the rules and resolve these obstacles, right?"

“That’s right, who would choose a more foolish way instead of using a more powerful one?” Morty said as he struggled to his feet.

After standing still, following the direction his grandfather pointed, he walked alone towards the overpass, intending to cross the road first, and then...

"Jesus! Morty! Show some villainous spirit! Have you ever seen anyone attempting to attack the armed forces of the universe's number one power walk across a pedestrian bridge before launching the attack???"

Grandpa's words made Morty blush.

However, in order to retaliate, Morty stubbornly replied, "These two things are not contradictory at all, okay! Why can't a ruthless killer be a good husband, a good father, and a good son?"

"Well said!" Stein, who had been silent and acting as a background figure, clapped appropriately, but quickly withdrew his hand under his grandfather's warning look and went back to being a background figure.

But that doesn't stop him at all. Morty pointed at him and said to his grandfather, "See that? This is a symbol of the moral scales in everyone's heart! You can make him fear you, but you can never block someone's heart!"

Grandpa: "I think you're really asking for it..."

Seeing that his grandfather was about to pull out his weapon, Morty quickly threw down a sentence and ran towards the overpass.

"The older you get, the less you can afford to play games."

After Morty had walked away, Stein asked, "If he rushes in and finds that Sammy and Old Ke have already been rescued by you, won't he be furious?"

Grandpa glanced sideways at Stein, and replied in a nonchalant tone, accompanied by a look of disdain, "Don't worry about that. He won't care about something like this."

"Besides, if he doesn't cause some trouble, how will he attract the attention of the whole city?"

"Do we want those bastards and Dark Morty to know that there's more than just Rick and Morty here?"

"In that case, Hermuel will probably impose a complete lockdown and launch a city-wide manhunt."

Do you think it's worth it?

From a tactical and strategic perspective, Grandpa's actions were indeed justifiable; some things do require someone to make a sacrifice to achieve them.

Stein just felt that if you're leading someone into a pit, you should at least tell them why they should jump into it.

In particular, telling others certain things can actually have a better effect, at least allowing them to act more convincingly when acting as bait.

"Alright, you know I don't like to explain too much, I've already made exceptions for you many times."

"Now that you've delivered the goods, take them all back. One god, one universe—quickly ignite the fire of the divine realm. I need to muddy the waters."

Stein, who needed to leave Hemuel quickly, was driven away.

After watching Stain leave, Grandpa quickly walked up to Tzeentch and said to him, "I think we should continue with that topic we talked about when Morty came back, right?"

“Alright, we really should have a talk,” Tzeentch said, his eyes filled with determination.

This is because before Morty returned from the Department of the Gods, her grandfather talked to her about a problem concerning Morty.

Tzeentch, Dream Rick, and Dream Jerry are all products of Morty's subconscious, and they have successfully entered the real world.

Then comes the problem.

If a part of a person's subconscious is removed, will their brain really not suffer any damage whatsoever?

impossible!

There will definitely be damage, and unlike a minor problem like a cold, this thing can cause damage comparable to a serious illness!

Just like the gray matter in the brain.