Seeing Meiji fall in line exactly as planned, Shin approached him with a slow, deliberate pace and a faint smirk on his lips.
"That's a wise choice, group leader," he said, his voice carrying an eerie calmness.
Meiji tried to smile back, but all he felt was an icy chill crawling down his spine. Something about the way Shin said those words made his stomach churn. It wasn't praise—it was a reminder of how little control he actually had.
Without missing a beat, Shin reached into the bag hidden under his robe and flipped it upside down. Bundles of ryo—thick stacks of money—poured out, hitting the ground in a cascade.
The sound of cash hitting the floor was like a spark, igniting a greedy hunger in the eyes of the bandits around them.
Even Meiji, who had once come from a well-off family, couldn't help but feel a jolt of shock at the sight.
Sure, he wasn't as openly ravenous as the rest of the bandits, but this was still an impressive display of wealth.
In fact, Meiji was starting to understand just how powerful Shin really was—wealth was influence, and Shin had it in spades.
The total must've been around five million ryo, casually dumped like it was nothing. Shin probably considered it pocket change.
It was nearly three months' worth of allowance from his father, but to these bandits? It was a fortune. Enough to shift their entire loyalty in a heartbeat.
"Like I said," Shin continued, his tone shifting into something almost predatory, "what I need are human hearts... Whoever brings me the most human hearts, and does it the quickest, can take all this money."
His voice had the cold edge of a businessman, a capitalist obsessed with profit and gains. The more he spoke, the clearer it became—Shin wasn't just manipulating these men with brute strength. He was using their own greed against them.
For the bandits, good and evil no longer mattered. The only thing they cared about now was the pile of money staring them in the face, promising to change their lives forever.
They didn't care how evil Shin was, or how creepy his obsession with hearts sounded. Morality was a luxury they couldn't afford.
They were used to barely scraping by, earning about 26,000 ryo a month, with most of their profits going to Hirosi. Now, Shin was offering them millions. A life-changing sum.
The room was buzzing with silent desperation, as the bandits shifted restlessly, their eyes darting between each other and the money. The choice was clear—serve Shin, or risk losing everything.
As Shin observed the bandit raise his hand, he immediately recognized the type—smarter than the average grunt, but still not enough to see through everything.
The man spoke hesitantly, "Uhh... Lo-Lord, didn't you previously say we'd get 30 thousand ryo per heart? Why do we need to bring the most to get the money?"
Shin gave him a nod, acknowledging the question. "Ah, yes. About that—it's your punishment."
"Punishment?" The bandits muttered, confused. They glanced at each other, unsure what they had done to deserve this so-called punishment. They hadn't even had the chance to start following orders yet.
Shin, without missing a beat, gestured toward the beheaded corpse of the bulky bandit.
The message was clear, and the realization spread quickly through the group. This guy's mess is our punishment? Damn him!
"You see," Shin continued, his voice calm, "since that fool there tried to rebel, as his comrades, you share his fate. So instead of getting paid per heart individually, I'll reward the one who brings me the most hearts.
You're free to form groups if you want." His smile was subtle, but it carried the weight of absolute control.
Inside, Shin was thinking, All according to plan.
Nothing had been left to chance. The bandit's impulsive attempt to attack him and the dramatic execution?
That had all been part of his carefully laid plan. The truth was simple—while Shin had money, he didn't have enough to pay every bandit the promised amount for each heart they brought.
His funds would dry up in no time. Instead of showing any sign of weakness, Shin played his hand perfectly, giving the illusion that he was a wealthy, generous leader who would reward them handsomely for their loyalty.
By proposing Meiji as the group leader—someone weaker, smaller, and unthreatening—it was inevitable that at least one arrogant bandit would lash out.
People with inflated egos couldn't stand seeing someone weaker rise above them. And that was exactly what Shin had counted on.
The bandits, now caught in Shin's web, felt the pressure. They had no choice but to compete for his approval, driven by both greed and fear.
And Shin knew that this competition would not only keep them in check but also save him a fortune in payouts.
In the end, Shin had effectively turned their arrogance and bloodlust against them, all while maintaining control.
The bandits might think they were working for a massive payday, but in reality, they were trapped in his game, playing by his rules.
Shin's strategy had been flawless from the start. To reinforce his dominance while appearing reasonable, he had first given the bandit who challenged him a chance to back down.
By telling the bandit to sit, he appeared as though he was trying to settle the issue peacefully, as if violence was his last resort.
This move was crucial—it painted Shin as a leader who didn't kill unnecessarily, giving the others the impression that if they stayed in line, they wouldn't face the same fate.
But, of course, Shin knew the bandit wouldn't back down. He had already read the situation perfectly.
When the bandit continued his foolish charge, refusing to recognize his place, Shin executed him. And now, with the rebel's death as an example, the message was clear: disobedience would not be tolerated.
The real genius of it, though, was how Shin had shifted the burden of discipline onto the bandits themselves.
The group now believed that the execution happened not solely because Shin was bloodthirsty, but because one of them had rebelled. Over time, this belief would take root.
They would start to associate rebellion with collective punishment, and if anyone else dared to step out of line, the others would put a stop to it themselves, out of fear that they too would be punished.
Shin wouldn't need to lift a finger again—his authority had been cemented through psychological manipulation.
But the most terrifying part would be that no matter how smart or manipulation shin is right now he is just a stupid monkey compared to the heavenly demon when he was 8.
That guy practically made his entire clan kill each other like gladiators while he watched it while eating popcorn.
As expected of the demonic path.
"Alright, what are you all staring at? The mission starts now. Go if you don't want to miss out on the money," Shin casually commanded, sending the bandits scrambling.
Their faces all twisted with that mix of greed and panic, rushing out of the tower, weapons in hand.
Sure, some of them probably suspected it was a trap, but Shin was a step ahead. He'd purposely picked the dumbest group he could find, knowing full well that FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) would kick in.
If everyone else is chasing something, even the cautious ones will eventually join in just to avoid being left behind.
Of course, Shin still had more tricks up his sleeve. He knew he'd need to pull a few more stunts to fully break them into obedient little pawns.
"Hm? Aren't you gonna try to win some of that money?" Shin raised an eyebrow at Meiji, who was still standing in the room, clearly not part of the mad dash.
Meiji responded with respect, but a hint of regret in his voice. "Sigh… My lord, I'm afraid my body isn't strong enough. No matter how hard I try, I wouldn't stand a chance."
Shin remained casual, sitting down in a chair and motioning for Meiji to do the same. "Ah, I see. So you're not much of a fighter. Let me guess… you were more like an accountant for them?"
Meiji quickly sat down, nodding. "I was actually more of an organizer, my lord. Lord Hirosi used me to manage the group. If I may say, it was thanks to me that this small group of bandits was able to grow to the size it is now."
"Hmm... makes sense," Shin replied, tapping his fingers lazily on the table. "But I'm surprised you've already made a mistake."
Meiji's eyes widened. A mistake? What did I do wrong? Before he could ask, Shin elaborated.
"Don't call anyone else 'lord'... I'm the only lord you serve now. If I catch you comparing me to some other pest, I'll be greatly disappointed." Shin said it so casually, like he was talking about the weather, but Meiji understood. It wasn't about the title itself.
It was about loyalty. Shin was making it clear that recognizing anyone else as his equal—or worse, his superior—was unacceptable. And if Meiji or anyone else dared to even think about serving another master, they'd be dealt with. Shin wouldn't be 'disappointed,' he'd be deadly.
"Please forgive me for this, my lord. I'll make sure this won't happen again—not by me, and not by anyone else in my group," Meiji said, bowing slightly, the way a true Japanese would, humble and respectful.
But before he could even rise fully, Shin spoke again, his tone as casual as ever, yet holding weight.
"Meiji, do you know something about the Priests of Asura?"
The moment those words hit his ears, Meiji's eyes went wide—wider than they had been all day.
{A/N: This chapter is even bigger than the previous one.
I think it's because I've started explaining things in more detail now, which... I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. What do you guys think? Should I keep going with it?
And, please, pretty please leave a lot of comments! I made a bet with my best friend (who's also an author), and I CANNOT lose to that bastard.
I WON'T YIELD, NO MATTER WHAT! 😤🔥
By the way, I was thinking of giving the MC his very first weapon, which is going to be a sword... I know, I know, it's pretty generic, but it looks cool.
Sun and Moon Sword(Image here)}