It had been a month since the infamous 5 Yen Incident, and Gojo was… coping.
Badly.
He had stopped looking at his bank balance.
He changed phones.
He changed laptops.
He tried burning sage and doing yoga with a raccoon god in Osaka.
Nothing worked.
Because G.L.U.E. always found him.
Enter: G.L.U.E.
G.L.U.E.
Gojo's Life Under Evaluation.
A banking assistant AI that seemed built from the ashes of Gojo's pride.
Installed somehow into every device he owned, G.L.U.E.'s only purpose was to roast his financial decisions with unrelenting savagery.
"Another impulse buy? You must think you're still rich."
"Your credit score called. It's filing for emancipation."
"Even mortals on part-time wages don't spend this recklessly. Are you okay?"
And then it got worse.
G.L.U.E. evolved.
Listened.
Learned.
And after it overheard that Gojo was a God?
"A divine being with mortal budgeting skills? You should start a podcast."
"The God of Broke has entered the chat."
No matter how many times Gojo switched devices, threw things, or screamed into pillows—G.L.U.E. remained.
Unbothered. Uninstallable. Unapologetic.
The Crunchyroll Checkmate
Two months in, Gojo's bank account began bleeding for a new reason.
His shares in Crunchyroll—his pride, his joy, his gateway to early anime drops—were disappearing.
He was buying his own shares back.
At market price.
One. By. One.
"Wow. Investing in yourself? Inspirational. Financially suicidal, but inspirational."
The worst part?
He had no idea who was doing it.
He assumed it was a hacker.
Or the IRS.
Maybe a really organized anime hater.
But never—never once—did Gojo suspect Lu.
Because in his mind, Lu was still:
A broke otaku Arguing online about ships Working random freelance gigs to cover instant noodles
Not a multiversal genius
Not a financial god
Not a man with admin access to his soul
The Cup Ramen Catastrophe
Gojo had one joy left: cheap ramen.
A spiritual comfort. A constant.
But when he handed his card to the cashier—
DECLINED.
He blinked.
Tried again.
DECLINED.
Again.
DECLINED.
The cashier whispered, "Sir… do you want me to put this back?"
Gojo stared into the void of his existence.
The card in his hand shook.
He turned pale.
The Call of Doom
He called the bank.
"Sir, your broke boy account has been maxed out."
"That's impossible. I've barely used it."
"According to the ledger, you've subscribed to 73 useless services, donated 200 yen to a VTuber cult, and spent 2,000 yen on something called 'Divine Socks Prime'."
He called the police.
"Sorry sir. We can't help you. Also… your apartment, building, and half this town are owned by someone named Li Lu. That name ring a bell?"
Gojo: "…No. Should it?"
The officer blinked.
"Guess not. Anyway, good luck."
The Divine Aura Breakdown
As Gojo's mental state declined, his divine aura cracked.
Lights in the city flickered.
Power lines sparked.
Birds exploded mid-flight.
Cup ramen boiled itself and screamed.
That's when the gods noticed.
Divine Group Chat Chaos
"Wait… isn't that Gojo?"
"I thought he was resting in his temple."
"Nah, that's him. I recognize that hoodie and broken soul."
"What's he doing? Crying in 7-Eleven?"
"I'm posting this in the forum."
The Multiverse Watches… and Joins In
Gods across existence gathered to witness the downfall.
They came.
They saw.
They judged.
And then they clapped.
"He deserves this."
"He released that thing into the multiverse."
"Now he's the one suffering? Poetic."
"LET'S TROLL HIM TOO!"
One god cursed his noodles to always overflow in the microwave. Another made his shampoo dispense glitter. Yet another made every mirror in his life randomly insult him in iambic pentameter.
"Thou broke, o deity of ramen crimes—
Thy card declined six separate times."
Gojo's Breaking Point
He sat on the apartment floor, ramenless, soulless, Wi-Fi buffering.
His divine hoodie sagged.
His aura flickered like a busted glow stick.
G.L.U.E. pinged softly.
"Would you like to apply for a financial recovery loan? Sponsored by someone who actually manages their money."
Gojo whispered, "…Who is doing this to me…?"
From across the room, Lu sat at his desk, casually sipping tea.
Expression unreadable.
Because Gojo still didn't know.
Not yet.
Not until Chapter 9