King Vulke didn’t seem angry at all. On the contrary, he burst into laughter: "Hahaha! You really do try everything, huh? The world is yours, and you’ll have plenty more chances in the future."
Vulke was the perfect example of a father who spoiled his son without limits. The ancestors around were shocked—this father was overbearing and irrational, while the ’son’ was a despicable scoundrel.
"So, when are you going to die?" Kakarotto asked eagerly, "I can’t wait to take the kingdom for myself and do whatever I want."
The ancestors froze. They thought that, finally, Vulke would get angry. After all, he was still alive, and no one would tolerate someone openly wishing for their death.
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Unfortunately, Vulke just laughed harder: "My time is running out... don’t worry, the empire will stand strong."
The ancestors were speechless. The great and wise king had turned into a fool, spoiling his son in a way no one had ever expected. The eight elders felt nostalgic, remembering Vulke’s glorious days when just a word from him could shake the heavens and the earth.
"I heard you have a daughter, too," Kakarotto suddenly mentioned.
"That girl..." Vulke thought for a moment before calmly replying, "Jiuke won’t come back. And even if she did, she wouldn’t compete with you."
"Good." Kakarotto nodded. "If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving."
"Have fun. Buman, make sure you protect him," Vulke ordered with a brief nod.
Buman bowed respectfully and hurried after Kakarotto, who was already heading for the exit.
Kakarotto didn’t go back to his room. Instead, he turned to Buman and said, "I’m tired of being here. Let’s go for a walk."
"May I ask where to, Your Highness?" Buman asked cautiously.
As the one responsible for the crown prince’s safety, he knew Kakarotto had now become an easy target for potential assassins.
Kakarotto grinned, clearly excited: "Let’s just go for a stroll and see if we can find some beauties, maybe some married women. If I feel like it, we can bring them back to the palace."
Buman hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. After a pause, he said, "Your Highness, you don’t need that. Soon, you’ll have plenty of wives at your disposal."
Kakarotto shook his head: "It’s boring when everything comes too easily. You think I care about those submissive girls? No, the real fun is in taking by force, especially other men’s wives."
"That... won’t be good for your reputation, Your Highness," Buman responded, visibly uneasy.
"Reputation?" Kakarotto scoffed. "What’s reputation worth? If I’m going to be the crown prince, I’ll be monstrous—killing, plundering, and ravaging women. Being a kind prince, caring about others? That’s not for me."
Buman watched closely, noticing something strange in Kakarotto’s eyes. It was as if there was more to his words than it seemed. He didn’t really look like the wicked villain he was trying to appear. A real villain wouldn’t leave that impression.
Those words, in fact, seemed more like the words of a strategist than a scoundrel. Hearing them, you’d be sure he was plotting something.
"Understood... I think..." Buman murmured, confused, unsure of what to make of it. In the end, all he could do was protect him.
The imperial city was bustling, home to hundreds of thousands of people. Although built on hills and mountains, its size allowed for countless buildings and structures.
Kakarotto strolled arrogantly and domineeringly through the city, almost like a lustful Young Master, or a wild dog.
It was then that he noticed a young girl and approached her with a mischievous grin.
"Hey, girl, how about you come with me?" He said, crossing his arms and tilting his head up slightly, like he was the biggest deal around.
Buman, who was following closely behind, couldn’t tell if this was the real Kakarotto or if he was just playing around. The change in behavior was quick and unexpected.
"You’re courting death!"
The young boys from the area were furious, ready to defend the girl in distress. Normally, the villain in these stories would meet a tragic end—beaten by the heroes and maybe even killed.
"The only thing I’m courting is the girl. Get out of my way, brats," Kakarotto sneered, glaring at the boys with contempt.
The boys were ready to attack him, their eyes burning with rage. But the girl stopped them. She looked at the Young Master coldly and asked, "Do you even know who I am?"
"No," he retorted, maintaining his arrogant stance. "But the whole empire is under my control. Serve me well, and you’ll be rewarded."
At that moment, Buman noticed something odd. Kakarotto’s words, though they could sound like a vulgar pick-up line, could also be interpreted as a recruitment offer... it all depended on how you took it.
His behavior and tone left everyone convinced that it was the first option. Yet, he clearly seemed to want things to remain ambiguous, avoiding being straightforward. ’Is he scared? What could he be afraid of?’ Buman wondered.
Meanwhile, the crowd was gossiping and pointing at the scene. The girl’s eyes burned with fury and bloodlust: "Ignorant fool, today I’m going to break your bones!"
"Is that so? Let’s see what you’ve got... come on," Kakarotto taunted, gesturing with his hands. The girl was short, and he might have been pointing either to her shoulder or her chest.
She drew her sword and attacked, determined to slice off his hand. It was the only way to ease her anger, so she struck relentlessly.
Everyone watched, knowing how weak that Young Master’s cultivation was, but no one felt sorry for him, thinking he deserved it. The young men laughed, sure that blood would soon flow amidst his cries of pain.
However, Buman would never let anyone harm him, no matter the character of the man, not even a single hair on his head. As the blade neared, he moved his finger.
*CRACK!*
The sword shattered into pieces, falling to the ground.
"Ah!" The woman screamed as she saw his hand coming closer, but he stopped midway and turned furiously toward Buman.
"You idiot, you ruined all the fun!" he growled, turning away. "Well, whatever, you’re too skinny and boring anyway."
The woman turned red with rage, but when she looked at the figure next to the Young Master, she knew she didn’t stand a chance. She turned and ran as far as she could.
Kakarotto spun around and headed down another street. The pair stayed silent for a moment. Now, Buman was certain that this young man clearly preferred death over actually touching the women or being too direct with his words. He’d just pretended to want to do something terrible, knowing the girl would attack and that Buman would step in.
Everyone around witnessed the scene and turned pale. That girl wasn’t weak, but the servant of this Young Master was terrifying. This meant he was someone important in the empire, and no one could lay a finger on the harassing bastard.
Buman sighed in relief, still confused, wondering why Kakarotto was behaving this way.
In his mind, Bruno was just shrugging off Alm’s provocations. ’It’s just words, I’m not touching anyone, and I won’t betray my wife. If Ruri saw this, she’d know I’m just acting and doing my job.’
Alm sneered sarcastically, leaving all the dirty work to Bruno. If that king thought he could use them in his schemes, then they’d play his game. Little did he know he was opening his doors to the devil.
"Hey, wanna come with me?" That question could be heard across the imperial city in the following days.
Many girls were terrified and ran away in a hurry. The Young Master just intimidated, sometimes throwing out dirty and provocative words. But in the end, no one could touch him. Soon, everyone knew he was important and protected, and the women decided to run, afraid of being kidnapped.
"THE PERVERT IS BACK!" Chaos erupted across the imperial city.
Young women no longer dared to leave their homes during the day, while Kakarotto earned the impressive title of pervert... despite never laying a hand on anyone or actually doing anything.
The hatred in the eyes of the men was intense, almost palpable. Every time they saw him, they gripped their weapons, wanting to kill him without mercy; but they remained calm.
"Sigh, people are so cruel with titles," Kakarotto shook his head and said. Buman could only sigh as he heard this.
Kakarotto kept walking down the street with his hands behind his neck, looking up and whistling, his behavior arrogant and unchecked.
Buman was already getting used to this scene.
"All the girls are running away at the sight of me; this isn’t going to work. Should we break into a noble’s house and take their wives and daughters?" Kakarotto mused.
"Your Highness, why are you choosing to be a bad person? That’s not your nature," Buman asked, after understanding this young man better over the past few days.
"Who’s good? Who’s bad? Am I being bad right now?" Kakarotto asked softly.
"Maybe not, but in the eyes of others, you’re a depraved prince, Your Highness," Buman answered honestly, driven by loyalty. He wanted Kakarotto to become a good prince, capable of leading this beautiful kingdom to prosperity.
"Such a basic perspective," Alm interjected, his eyes gleaming coldly, making Buman feel uneasy.
"Since you enlisted, have you ever thought about the number of victims you’ve caused?"
"Well… I’m afraid not…" He answered, a bit uncomfortable. No cultivator in an empire maintained by force could reach this level without living in a sea of blood and death.
"As a soldier, killing on the battlefield can be seen as following orders. But after a certain age, no one’s foolish enough not to know the difference between right and wrong. Cultivators are blood-stained killers. A supreme king? His roads are paved with bones. Have you ever wiped out a clan or a sect?" Kakarotto asked with a dark look.
"Yes, unfortunately," Buman nodded. It was a common thing since maintaining rule required crushing rebels to keep the kingdom intact.
"Then tell me, are you a good or bad person?" Alm asked coldly.
Buman hesitated before answering.
Alm spoke slowly, "In your mind, at least unconsciously, you still think of yourself as a good person. At the very least, you don’t bully men and women and live a proper life, unlike me, who’s domineering and irrational, harassing… or pretending to harass girls. My actions are seen as irredeemably evil."
After looking deeply into Buman’s eyes, Alm asked, "Let me ask you, what do you think of King Vulke? Do you respect him?"
Buman replied without hesitation, "His Majesty possesses incredible foresight and exceptional skills, a once-in-an-era talent capable of sweeping the world. I have nothing but reverence for him."
Alm smirked, "I’m sure many people respect him, even his enemies. That’s the fun part. Vulke has ruled for three generations and destroyed countless sects and clans, too many to count. With just one command, rivers of blood would flow. His hands are stained with blood, and the karma of the dead haunts his blade."
Sensing Buman’s reaction, Alm waited a few seconds before continuing, "Look again, I’ve been acting like a spoiled brat these past few days, but how many people or clans have I exterminated? Aside from my words, have I done anything wrong?"
"No, you haven’t hurt anyone," Buman sighed.
"The King is a mass murderer who has left broken homes behind, but he’s still considered an unrivaled king in the minds of many. Some are even willing to be his blade and loyal servants, and surely see him as a good person," Alm paused before finishing, "And here I am, just intimidating a few people and harassing, at most, a few girls, but I’m considered a heinous villain deserving of death. I’m sure if I were beaten to death today, no one would sympathize while the crowd would cheer in celebration."
"On the other hand, the King’s death would evoke emotions and sadness; many would miss him, don’t you think?" He added dryly.
"This world belongs to the strong," Buman grasped the implication.
"No, that’s not what I’m trying to say," Alm shook his head. "The world is made up of ordinary people with a shallow view, using power to gauge morality. So, why should I care what these fools think of me? Good or bad? An unforgivable demon king or a respected savior? Who cares about these meaningless titles?"
"My true character is something only those who live by my side know. Trying to clearly do the right thing will only attract envy and people who want to destroy me. The only thing I can really do to change anything is to create fertile ground. I can’t control what people think."
Buman suddenly looked at Kakarotto, startled. He seemed enveloped in a divine aura.
At that moment, Bruno took over. "But that’s for later! Right now, I want to have some fun! If we don’t find anyone, I’ll head to a noble’s house," he threatened.
So they moved through the city, with Buman deep in thought.
Until they entered another alley and heard a round of applause from small children: "Big sister is here!"
Alm and Bruno held their breath. There was a group of children surrounding a girl. They varied in age and were dressed in rags, clearly destitute. Their faces were thin and bony; when was the last time they had a good meal? The girl had a bag full of food and began handing out meals to the children.
Alm and Bruno stared wide-eyed.
’She’s just like Buman… this feeling… why do some people make us feel this way?’ they muttered thoughtfully.