The boy shrank back at Edward’s fierce glare, his head tucking in fear, unable to speak.
Edward Young Master’s sudden coldness was beyond his comprehension.
In a moment, he felt himself fall from heaven into hell.
Just three months ago, Edward Young Master had said he admired him, rescued him from poverty and servitude, cherished him at his side, and fed him all kinds of expensive tonics every day…
Just two months ago, Edward Young Master had coaxed and tricked him into drinking a bizarre magic potion, turning him from a normal man into a man + woman…
At that time, he almost broke down, but Edward Young Master rewarded him with an official position.
When he put on the Tax Officer uniform and returned to his hometown, wandering for half a day and witnessing those village bullies who had once tormented him as a child trembling, cautious, and fawning to curry favor—
It was as if something inside him shattered.
He suddenly felt that maybe serving Edward Young Master wasn’t so bad after all.
Once a person develops desires, they have weaknesses.
With weaknesses, they get used to compromise, and eventually become controlled by those who can fulfill their desires.
From then on, no matter how outrageous or absurd Edward Young Master’s demands were, the boy didn’t dare to refuse.
He chose to vent his resentment and pain downward, becoming more and more wild and reckless, flattering those above and bullying those below, relying on power to oppress the weak—a living image of the “dog official” he despised most in his youth.
Until recently.
He received an order from the City Lord to trouble the refugees outside the city.
At first, everything seemed normal—smashing, robbing, burning, intimidating—the usual methods of tax collection.
The dark-skinned man at the front became agitated, cursed him as a “dog official.”
At first, he was stunned, then enraged, and couldn’t suppress the fire boiling inside him.
He rushed up and punched.
The powder keg exploded.
Both sides started brawling, chaos erupting.
He was weak, but after months of nourishment, while the man was starved and had little strength.
He pushed the man down with force, watching as the back of his head struck a stone, white foam bubbling from his mouth as he convulsed.
At first, he felt nothing, until a pool of blood spread out.
His soaring excitement suddenly froze, as if doused by a bucket of ice water.
He ran.
His first killing finally awakened long-suppressed emotions—remorse, pain, and self-doubt over whether he was wrong.
He reported everything honestly to Edward.
Edward Young Master, instead of blaming him, was even a bit delighted, covering up the incident so the City Lord wouldn’t find out, saying he feared the City Lord’s wrath and that he’d be punished by law.
It made him feel warm inside, even a little proud.
He thought, “Maybe Edward Young Master truly loves me.”
“He can’t even bear to touch me.”
A curious misunderstanding.
Later came the evening banquet, the succubus, and under Edward Young Master’s comforting words and the seductive service of the succubus, his lingering guilt faded like smoke.
He finally forgave himself and chose to reconcile with the shining future before him.
[From now on, I am Edward Young Master’s dog. Even as his dog, I am still superior to the commoners. I have already separated from them; we’re not on the same level anymore. Why make things hard on myself?]
He began to feel a light, floating contentment.
Beside him, Edward Young Master’s smile grew even brighter, like a farmer savoring the day his carefully cultivated fruit was ready for harvest.
And then…
The “Immortal Legion” attacked.
“Edward Young Master, do you think the Hero has come?”
“When I went to collect taxes, I think I heard someone say the Hero was protecting them, and told us to stop.”
The boy recalled some things—those he had deliberately ignored in the heat of emotion—and suddenly felt a pang of guilt.
“Hero?”
Edward looked puzzled.
He knew the Hero was in the city, but what did the Hero have to do with the refugees?
No matter how he thought about it, it sounded like a wild boast.
It was all his father’s fault, thinking him useless and never telling him anything, afraid he’d mess things up.
He even heard he’d kept a “male pet,” got so angry he sent him off to this godforsaken place to watch the gate.
“Don’t overthink it. How could it be the Hero? You just killed someone, that’s all. That kind of thing happens all the time during tax season, and the Hero doesn’t chop them up. Why should we be so unlucky?”
“That’s true.”
The boy’s pale face regained a bit of color.
At that moment, Leah, who was eavesdropping from the wall, was stunned.
Damn, so the real “surprise jackpot” is here!
If I capture him alive and offer him to the dog Hero…
If the dog Hero gets happy, maybe he’ll reward me with some good stuff—a high-grade magic crystal, half a bottle of Blood, or even some magic equipment.
She couldn’t even imagine how smoothly this opening could go!
While the two weren’t paying attention, Leah silently “flowed” back, staring at the mountain of Poopoo piled behind her, gradually falling into thought.
…Even though he’s a half-baked, trashy noble and not a battle-hardened professional, he’s still received Elite Magic Education, knows plenty of self-defense spells, is well-equipped, and the total magic power built up through resources is unfathomably deep.
With just a few Poopoo summoned, trying to take him down head-on, the success rate was close to zero.
As for relying on a battle of attrition or sheer numbers to exhaust his magic, that was even less realistic.
Even if her good brothers were endless, the other side wasn’t an idiot—if Poopoo kept coming in, they’d definitely come out to check.
But her escape skills were currently terrible, and her command system heavily depended on Poopoo fragrance and physical contact—she couldn’t remotely control the battle.
It was a case of “look at me if you dare, I’ll die if you do.”
Leah pondered for a moment, glanced at the eight vents on the wall, and suddenly had an idea.
The Poopoo scattered.
Before long, Leah had found the other ends of all the vents.
She ordered the Poopoo to split into eight teams and wait at the different vent openings.
Then, Leah turned into a puddle of pink water again and slipped inside.
This time, she left herself no escape route, but instead fell “drip, drip” onto the ground, sliding along the cracks in the floor tiles as if pulled by gravity, all the way to Edward’s feet.
No matter how hard Edward racked his brain, he couldn’t imagine that this tiny, semi-transparent, pale-pink liquid was the most dangerous assassin approaching.
The distance was already close.
Leah remembered: Poopoo fragrance also had a certain “arousing” effect on human males.
After being enhanced by Hero magic, the concentration and potency doubled.
Soon.
“So fragrant. Strange, what is this smell?”
Edward’s nose twitched, a puzzled look on his face.
He looked at the “sacrifice,” and for some reason, the boy he had previously found annoying now seemed more and more cute and alluring.
The boy’s reaction was even more dramatic.
Although he only received half the effect of the fragrance, he had never studied magic and had no magic resistance.
“Young Master, you… you’re so handsome…!”
The boy pounced, somewhat frantically tearing at Edward’s clothes.
“Not good! It’s an enemy attack! They’re using filthy poison gas!”
Edward’s face changed drastically.
He finally reacted, wanting to kick the boy away, but was afraid of killing him and losing the carefully raised “Sacrificial Delicacy.”
Pale pink mist filled the room, flowing out the vents.
In the next instant, as if a war horn had sounded, large numbers of Poopoo began pouring in through every vent—most were black, with some yellow, blue, green…
The Poopoo didn’t attack.
They just bounced around.
Edward had to deal with the boy and the Poopoo at the same time, overwhelmed by the chaos as a flood of Poopoo filled the secret chamber.
Even stranger, Edward suddenly realized that the rock Poopoo crowded around him had all activated hardening at once.
The suddenly rigid “rocks” pressed him and the boy tightly together, rendering them immobile.
“No! What is this?! Where did all these Poopoo come from?!”
He was dumbfounded, at a loss whether to laugh or cry.
He’d thought it was a powerful enemy assault, but it turned out to be just a bunch of Poopoo.
What could Poopoo do?
Give him a massage?
But the next second, a sharp pain shot through his toe, making Edward’s mouth twist.
“F*ck! What is prying off my toenail?!”
He roared in anger.