There are countless rumors about either the royal family or the Four Families.
Whether they are true or not doesn't matter.
You will not see the government intervening; what matters is that the kingdom endures.
But what about rumors that pose a threat to stability—those that might incite chaos? Of course, you'll see the government stepping in, and that's only natural.
That's the way of the world; it's the system of all kingdoms—except the Nameless Kingdom. It will never intervene, no matter how dangerous the rumors are.
That's what they used to say. That's what they used to do.
I was like a scout wandering through forests and caves in search of treasures or ancient relics. The difference is, I wander through pages and articles in search of secrets and mysteries—or at least entertainment.
When the series end, I move to movies, then novels, then articles and news. That was my daily routine.
Sometimes I find copper; sometimes I find gold and diamonds.
One day, I began with excitement, eagerly awaiting one of the most crucial chapters of my favorite novel, only to feel sadness and disappointment when I discovered that the author had postponed it to another day.
As a reaction, I delved into the depths of the internet in search of something to lift my spirits.
After losing hope of finding anything enjoyable to read, an article appeared—one that had been published only a minute before by its author.
I clicked on it because of its strange title; I doubted anyone in the Nameless Kingdom could ignore it.
The article was titled: "The Fifth Family: Fact or Fiction? The Dirty Records of the Nameless Kingdom."
Some would click on it angrily because of the phrase "dirty records," while others would click on it with a smile, eager to learn the dirt on their kingdom.
I was somewhere in between.
I wasn't blindly in love with my kingdom, nor was I so resentful as to wish harm upon it.
I understood its reasons for sending children to their deaths just to capture their fathers and secure its future.
But don't expect me to be grateful while you put me through psychological and physical torment.
The article was like a ticking time bomb.
In short, it claimed that, in the distant past, there was a Fifth Family—the Blooddirty family—that was destroyed by the royal family with the help of the Four Families.
I couldn't tell if the article's author wanted to oppose the royal family and revive the memory of the Fifth Family or if they sought to increase the troubles of those who remained from it.
I say this because of the reasons the writer mentioned for the royal family's destruction of the Blooddirty family.
They stated that the Blooddirty family grew stronger over time, which led them to covet the royal family's throne—or at least, that's the conclusion anyone would reach after reading two or three lines.
They also described the current state of the family's last descendants, highlighting their persecution.
They are not allowed to work in any government jobs, such as the army or police.
They are not allowed to engage in any kind of private economic investments in the kingdom.
They have no healthcare coverage, and no profit-seeking organization is willing to deal with them, directly or indirectly.
It is clear that this is a strategy by the kingdom to push them toward the underworld, so they can later point fingers at them and say, "Look at this corrupt lineage—they are animals who have no rights of any kind."
I truly didn't know the writer's intentions—or at least I didn't know them at the time.
Plainly put, they were uncovering dirt on both sides: the kingdom and its illegal measures, which contradict its proclaimed democratic slogans, and the Blooddirty family, which was unknown to the public.
For the fanatical populace, if the family's situation was dire before the article, it became worse afterward.
The article was quickly erased, read by only about a thousand people, but none of them would doubt what they had read. That was the writer's plan.
I don't need to say that investigators looked into the matter.
Once the rumor turned into fact, they couldn't announce any names because of the protection law.
However, they hinted enough for everyone to understand.
Numerous clips began circulating, showing groups of people throwing the dirtiest things at their faces, calling them descendants of traitors.
I don't know if the body's owner can grant a new identity to others, but I'm certain it's impossible to give a monkey-man a new one.
It's assumed the kingdom monitors their every move closely.
I keep pacing in the office, my hands behind my back, while Sora stands trembling, his legs about to give out.
"How could someone like him bow to your pressure and give up his only chance at living a normal life?"
"S-Sir, may I sit down first?"
"Of course, you can sit,".
My words are a mask of cheerfulness placed on his face, only to fall off quickly as I continue.
"the faster your responses are, the sooner your torment will end."
He has no choice but to place his fingertips on the desk for slight support, granting some relief to his legs.
I avert my gaze from his trivial movements.
"I offered him a lot of money. He has a sick sister, so…"
The scumbag used his sister's illness to pressure him.
Well, he did the right thing.
I bet the group tasked with monitoring him knows what he's done but turns a blind eye because the situation isn't critical.
If the kingdom knew about my connection to him, it might change how it deals with me.
It's better to stay away from him, at least until I figure out my position and limits.
I finally exit the room, followed by Sora, limping and occasionally pressing his hand against a wall for support.
Cobra tries to offer him an arm as an apology, but he retreats as soon as I glance at him.
The mob stands silently as I pass through, watching with hatred and mockery at Sora's pitiful state.
Sora swallows his embarrassment, thinking to himself, Enjoy it now. The sir won't be here forever. Your fate is in my hands, and I will take revenge for every look you've given me.
It's only a matter of time before I reach the corridor—a corridor filled with murmurs, pain, and cries of misery, not to mention the body parts scattered across the floor.
For no reason, my heartbeat begins to race. I start to feel a kind of tremor throughout my body. I quickly turn toward them.
"Look at my clothes—they're filthy. Where's the bathroom?"
They look at me in confusion, as if to say, "You just realized that?" Sora shouts at one of the staff to guide me to the bathroom.
Between reaching it and beginning to open the door, I hear Sora yelling:
"Clean this mess up immediately and call the workers to sanitize the area. I want everything spotless by the time the sir gets out of the bathroom."
I enter, indifferent to anything except what is happening to me.
I stand before the mirror, staring at my terrifying reflection.
Even I was startled. Quickly, I remove the mask from my face and toss it aside, turning the faucet on and sticking my head under the running water.
It feels like side effects are surfacing from my excessive violence.
Memories flash as I cut and break their bones.
My whole body starts shaking, and I lose control over it.
As water pours down my head, the questions begin to suffocate me.
What have I done?
How did I lose control of myself?
Where did I get this cruelty?
Where did I get this coldness?
Once more—am I the one controlling this body, or is this body controlling me?
The water stopped, and with it, the cascade of unanswered questions. I stood upright, staring deep into my own eyes in the mirror.
"What… What are you looking at? you died while I still alive. I won't let you take control of me."
I stopped talking like a madman and tried as much as I could to remove the bloodstains from my suit.
Some faded, but others clung stubbornly, as if determined to remind me of my guilt.
I left the bathroom in surrender.
When I stepped out, I was surprised to find the hallway as if nothing had happened.
I walked through it, ignoring Sora's gaze, which seemed to ask, "Aren't you going to compliment me?" He has a lot of psychological issues.
In the elevator, the two young women were stiff, their eyes closed and their hands over their ears, as if trying to erase what they had seen.
I had forgotten about them in my bloodlust.
I approached them, and with a gentle touch on their shoulders, they flinched and shuddered.
"It's over now. There's no need to be afraid,".
Although my words didn't extinguish their fear, they at least steadied their footing.
Sora's eyes fell on the younger girl, and questions began surfacing in his mind.
I looked at him with a gaze full of disdain.
"A little girl who can penetrate your system—do you still want me to praise your work?"
Naturally, he lowered his head in shame, avoiding my gaze.
"Sir, does my brother still have a chance?".
I looked at her, pondering her words.
This was a dangerous ,very dangerous matter.
"When your brother's condition improves, we'll talk."
That was better—no agreement, no rejection.
At least not until I understood the general and specific aspects of the situation.
"Thank you,".
The elevator opened, and with a few steps, I reached the car, leaving everyone behind except for Sora, who followed me.
"Sora, Zoe from now on, she will serve only me."
"As you wish, sir,"
He said as he bowed. His mind was overactive, undoubtedly concocting some sordid story, but I wasn't interested in correcting it.
He opened the car door, and I was about to get in when I changed my mind and turned to him.
"Run and bring me a box, a lighter, and flammable materials—quickly."
The moment he heard the word "box," he trembled and stammered.
"A-a box?"
"Don't worry. Just go quickly."
Sora limped off, returning within a minute with what I had asked for.
I placed the box in a specific corner, removed the cursed mask, and tossed it inside.
I poured the flammable materials over it and ignited it with the lighter.
Sora asked confused
"Why, sir?"
"I have a feeling it's cursed. And like anything cursed in this life, if you don't let go of it, it will control you. I just hope whoever crosses paths with it disposes of it quickly before they lose everything."
With confusion etched on his face, Sora stepped back as I got into the car, which began to move again without a command from me.
As soon as the car left, Sora collapsed to the ground, letting out strange noises from his mouth.
Relishing the brief respite he thought was far off, he pulled out his phone, shouting.
"Send someone to put out this fire."
A guard arrived with extinguishers, finding Sora standing, his legs trembling.
His pride wouldn't allow him to be seen in a pitiful state, at least as much as he could help it.
The guard approached and sprayed white foam, extinguishing the flames.
Sora returned to the elevator, not bothering to wait for the guard.
The guard, ensuring no one was watching him, started rummaging through the box.
"These rich people throw away everything good. Fools,".
It didn't take long before he realized the box was empty, asking himself.
"I saw something shining in the fire before I started extinguishing it. I'm sure it wasn't there long enough to burn completely, and there's no ash. Am I imagining things?"
In the car, finally the signs of sleep's visitation began to appear on me. We were honored by his heroine, the son of BITCH.
Just as I began to sink into the depths of slumber, the car stopped.
Damn it. Why must I interrupt my sleep just to climb to my room? I'll sleep in the car.
I quickly changed my mind—I still needed to maintain the image of "the boss" in front of my subordinates.
I was about to open the door, only to find it already open for me.
The driver hadn't left the car the entire trip, so why now?
When I stepped out, I saw that the person opening the door was a man in a white coat.
Was he a doctor? Glancing around, I noticed this wasn't the mansion or a hospital. It was an animal shelter. What was I doing here?
"Sir, welcome back,".
I looked back at him—a young man with a smile on his face.
Even though I was half-conscious from exhaustion and lack of sleep, I could still tell that his smile was genuine.
"Sir, quickly, there's a surprise,"
He seemed eager, walking quickly ahead of me before realizing his mistake. He stepped back apologetically.
"Sir, forgive me for my lack of focus. I was too excited to show you."
"It's fine. You can lead me to whatever you want to show me, but quickly—I'm a bit tired."
He seemed surprised by my lack of anger, but he justified it to himself as being due to my apparent exhaustion.
He resumed leading the way.
From one corridor to another, it was indeed an animal shelter.
What was the body's owner doing here? All my questions were answered the moment we reached the last corridor.
By now, I had gotten used to it—answer one question, and you're greeted with a dozen more.
The corridor was lined with rooms resembling solitary confinement cells.
Each had a transparent window, revealing what was inside. The man walked up to one of the rooms and lifted the cover so I could see.
"Sir, we did it. See for yourself."
I glanced into the room.
My eyes widened, my pupils contracted, and my heart raced, banishing all my exhaustion and drowsiness.
How could they not, when before me lay the strangest thing I'd ever seen?
Inside was a creature like no other—a fusion of animal and machine, as if technology and nature had finally agreed.
It had glowing blue eyes, a body covered in soft fur interwoven with metal wires and electronic devices, sparking occasionally.
Its movements were smooth and elegant, contrary to what its appearance suggested.
Without taking my eyes off it, I unconsciously asked.
"What is that?"
"The serum worked, sir. This is just a sample—there's more."
The man darted past me, opening the transparent windows of all the rooms with the press of a button, revealing what they hid.
I looked into each room, one by one, and with every creature I saw, every hair on my body stood on end, my skin drenched in sweat.
My heart raced, and my chest felt as though it could no longer contain it.
Suddenly, my steps halted as a single word emerged in my mind: serum. Silence engulfed my thoughts.
Didn't the old-LOOKING young man say that I took the serum?
Super powers.
This world has supernatural powers.
Does this body have superpowers?
***********
Emiric: So, this is the kind of story I've landed in. Mystery, dark fantasy, a pinch of psychological chaos—topped off with political drama. Naturally.
And of course, the classic 'Am I losing my mind?' trope. Hero, villain, or just the guy who signed the wrong contract? Feels about right.
Oh, and the animal shelter bit at the end? Really? What's next—a parrot spilling the kingdom's darkest secrets? Sure, let's go there. Add it to the list.
Meanwhile, readers are probably nodding, sipping their coffee, thinking, 'Wow, he's profound.' No, Karen. I'm just exhausted.