Chapter 89: Return
At the border between Arkansas and Texas, federal agencies detected seismic activity consistent with a significant explosion, immediately drawing the attention of relevant authorities.
However, the party responsible for this disturbance had long since departed the area.
"I didn't expect that thing to give up so easily. I only killed it five times and it refused to respawn so I could do it again."
Looking at the mushroom cloud rising into the sky behind them, Chris complained with genuine frustration. Realizing he wouldn't be getting any more life essence, he felt the Wendigo had been incredibly stingy.
He could clearly sense that the creature still had the capacity to revive, but it would rather let its lair be obliterated than manifest before him again. Talk about cutting your losses!
Ruby and Stewie beside him ignored Chris's dissatisfaction. Ruby focused on driving, feeling melancholy knowing Chris was about to leave this world.
Although Stewie had explained earlier that Chris's departure would only feel like a few minutes from her perspective, the knowledge that after Chris returned to meet her, there would still be a long period without her presence in his life left Ruby feeling unexpectedly sad.
Meanwhile, Stewie was manipulating his wristband, studying the various data points the Wendigo had revealed through their encounter.
After processing the information, Stewie expanded on Chris's complaint: "The fundamental nature of that entity isn't particularly elevated. The fact it could provide you with portions of its core essence was already a significant expenditure on its part.
According to my readings, that monstrosity's sphere of influence covers only a few hundred thousand square kilometers, and it's existed for merely a few centuries.
It's unclear whether there are even multiple fully-manifested Wendigo that have been successfully created. For you to eliminate five iterations in one engagement, you've likely crippled its capabilities for the foreseeable future."
Hearing Stewie's explanation, Chris asked with interest, "You mean all those Wendigo in this world are caused by this thing? Is its purpose to spawn more Wendigo?"
"Obviously. Otherwise, what do you think it's doing—spreading its corruption and creating so many Wendigo just for fun?"
Chris nodded in understanding. He'd thought the number of Wendigo in this world seemed abnormally high; he alone had killed over a thousand, and those were just the ones he'd encountered.
If you included the ones hidden in remote areas he hadn't discovered, the number could be fifty percent higher.
Originally, Chris had assumed the Wendigo existed because there were too many corrupted humans transforming into these creatures.
He hadn't expected the causality to run in reverse: it was precisely because of this original Wendigo that so many corrupted beings appeared.
Understanding this, Chris followed up with Stewie: "So if I weakened that thing so severely, will it expand its infection to create more corrupted beings to repair itself? Or is it too damaged to generate more?"
"Why are you asking? Planning to drop a few more nukes on it?" Stewie asked, head still down as he calculated various data points, without looking up.
"Can a nuclear weapon actually damage its main body?" Chris, catching the implication in Stewie's words, asked with curiosity.
"Affirmative. So do you want to deploy additional nuclear ordnance?"
Chris considered the few remaining tactical nukes in his inventory, then checked his internal sense of when he'd be pulled back to his home world, shaking his head. "Forget it. I'll just wait until I visit this world again and directly consume its core essence."
"You still haven't answered my question!" After giving his own decision, Chris looked at Stewie, who was still calculating, and nudged him insistently.
Stewie gave Chris an irritated look, then said, "I'm not the creature, how would I know its decision-making process? But according to my calculations, its injuries are severe enough that it won't be capable of significant action for the immediate future."
After responding curtly, Stewie asked again, "Can you sense how much time you have remaining before departure? I need to record the current temporal coordinates."
Chris looked at the holographic projection Stewie was manipulating, finally realizing what the kid was actually working on.
It seemed he really had developed an attachment to Ruby.
Sighing internally, Chris checked his internal countdown again and answered honestly, "Two or three minutes. Is that enough time for you to record everything?"
Hearing Chris's response, Stewie didn't reply, but his unhurried demeanor made it clear that two minutes would be sufficient.
And as Chris vanished from this world, Stewie also completed his temporal recording and likewise departed.
With the departure of both visitors, Ruby felt disoriented for only a moment before the world's timeline stabilized, frozen in place awaiting Chris's next visit.
Quahog, Rhode Island. The Griffin house. Chris's room.
Looking at his room, which he hadn't seen in what felt like months, Chris was about to collapse onto his bed when he saw Stewie walk in and say, "Don't sleep yet. You need to help me clean up this house, otherwise it'll be bad news when Lois discovers what happened."
Chris curiously followed Stewie out of the room, only then realizing what Stewie had meant by living alone for over half a year.
The stairwell was covered in various unidentifiable liquids and stains, while the living room and kitchen downstairs were piled high with all manner of garbage—pizza boxes, empty chip bags, soda cans, and what appeared to be the remains of several failed science experiments.
More critically, countless used diapers were draped across the sofa like some kind of horrifying modern art installation.
Seeing this scene that resembled a condemned apartment from one of those hoarding documentaries, Chris looked down at Stewie, his expression utterly speechless.
Stewie returned an awkward smile and pleaded softly, "Come on, buddy. Please?"
"Jesus Christ." Chris sighed, rolled up his sleeves, and began cleaning.
Stewie had actually called him "buddy" rather than making some condescending remark. What more could he say?
Fortunately, when Chris had departed for the other world, it had been late at night, with Lois, Peter, and the others all asleep.
Therefore, upon his return, it was still nighttime. As long as he finished cleaning before dawn, there would be no problem.
And with Chris's enhanced abilities, cleaning the Griffin family house was naturally a simple task—though one he'd rather not be doing.
What made Chris want to complain was that despite owning the Mighty Gym franchise and technically being a business owner, he really didn't want to be scrubbing floors at three in the morning.
Looking at the newly cleaned house, Stewie sat on the stairs, dramatically wiping away a bead of sweat, as though contemplating how hard Chris had worked.
Chris looked at Stewie with exasperation, unable to understand why the person who'd actually done all the work was him, yet this little guy looked exhausted.
As if sensing Chris's desire to complain, Stewie chuckled, "You don't understand the psychological toll! Just thinking about you not cleaning in time, and Lois discovering that I trashed the house, terrifies me!"
"Ha. Ha." Chris responded with a flat laugh. How could he not know that Stewie had legitimate reasons to be afraid? It sounded like he was just trying to justify doing nothing.
Seeing Chris ignore him, Stewie didn't mind. He yawned theatrically and headed back to his room.
After watching such an entertaining interdimensional adventure, he was genuinely tired and ready for sleep.
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