Why is Batman jealous of Superman?
Because Superman got adopted.
…
Anyway—I've always wanted to deliver justice one day. Like Batman, but without the emotional constipation.
And today... that day had arrived.
A man was heading toward my castle, demanding justice like I owed him rent.
Too bad I wasn't in the castle. I was already close to him, like a mosquito on a sleeping man's forehead—uninvited, impatient, and ready to slap.
I got up from bed, slapped on my armor Skill, and no, I wasn't gonna take a bath.
It's not that I like being a musty goblin—justice just doesn't wait for soap.
And I don't want to go to the bathroom without my phone which this world doesn't have.
So, instead of bathing and all, I activated my trusty shortcut Skill:
[ So Wet ]
Yeah, yeah. The name sounds like it belongs on OnlyFans, not a fantasy system. But the function? Pure. It just makes me feel fresh.
No soap, no water, no dignity—just freshness.
So I did that and now I am great. Bathroom bypassed.
I left the bedroom and was greeted by Erect.
"My lord, there's a commotion outside," he said.
"I know. And I'm heading there. You're coming too."
Erect nodded with all the discipline of a butler who's seen too much.
"Where's Sophia?" I asked.
"She is sleeping, my lord. It's still early for her to wake up."
Yeah. I would leave before she wakes up. I don't want to eat breakfast here.
I opened the main door and stepped outside like a righteous demon emerging from his lair.
Erect followed me, carrying vibes.
Right outside, I spotted a crowd in front of that one big mansion Erect keeps eyeing like it's on discount.
'So that's where the quarrel is. Show time.'
I slid into the group like a nosy aunt at a family fight..
But before saying anything, I turned On my stats.
[ Stats On ]
Then I shouted:
"I am the Hero King!"
"Yeah. And I sleep with his mother."
Excuse me, what?
"Turn around, imbecile," I said, calm but with the energy of a microwave about to explode.
The man turned and immediately looked like he'd just seen taxes.
"My lord!" he exclaimed, looking like he'd just farted in front of God. "I-I didn't know you were here! I thought it was just a joke, I swear."
The man apologized and I should forgive him.
I would have said the same thing if someone came from behind me and said, I am Christiano Ronaldo.
"I am Christiano Ronaldo."
The fck?
Someone did spoke those words from behind me.
I turned. A tall, burly man stood there like a tree that lifts weights.
"Good morning, my lord. I was just introducing myself."
Oh. NPC energy.
A minor character, spawned just for the joke.
"Good morning. Let me focus on the matter here. You can leave."
"Okay."
Ronaldo went away and now I would finally order justice.
"Only the people involved in the fight shall stand before me," I declared like a budget Solomon.
The crowd parted like Moses was cosplaying me.
Two men remained.
One was a chubby uncle wearing enough gold to crash the economy, and the other looked like a tax evader in a used tunic.
Rich vs. Poor, huh? Then the poor man must be right here. Rich people are trash according to fiction and all.
"State your names," I said.
The gold-coated man bowed like a true simp.
"I am Humble, my lord."
"I am also humble. Tell me your name."
"That is my name."
Oh.
I turned to the other man.
"And yours?"
He didn't bow. Instead, he looked at me like I owed him child support.
"I am Proud."
Bro—
"Okay, Proud. What's going on here?"
"My name is not Proud. I was just telling you my trait."
CAN Y'ALL STOP DOING THIS TO ME.
I'm trying to deliver justice, not play the Guess Who name edition.
"Then what is your name?" I asked.
"Ovary."
…I sighed. I've been here long enough to not even flinch at this biological horror.
But this man, this so-called "poor" Ovary—he was acting like he owned the place.
Meanwhile Humble, the gold-drenched toad, was giving off respectful peasant vibes.
What the hell is this role-reversal arc?
"What is the matter here? Why were you fighting? Who is looking for justice?" I asked.
"I am looking for justice, my lord." Humble said.
"He is accusing me of something I didn't do." Ovary said as well like he was auditioning for a telenovela.
I raised both hands.
"ONE at a time, unless you want justice by frying pan."
Humble went first.
"This man is sleeping with my wife. He's trying to steal my wealth by seducing her. He's a parasite in a tunic, my lord."
"Lies!" Ovary spat. "This pig is spewing nonsense. This boar has no proof. This bull can't accuse me like that just because he is rich. This fatso can't torment poor people. Just because this bastard is rich, he can't insult a poor man like me."
Dude. You just insulted him five times in one breath.
Who's tormenting who?
Anyway, I got the situation. Humble thinks his wife is cheating on him with this poor man, Ovary and Ovary is denying.
Still—something wasn't adding up.
So I asked:
"If he wants your money, why would he sleep with your wife? Like, how's that a money plan? Is she secretly a treasure chest?"
Humble scratched his neck like a guilty boy in a hentai plot.
"Well… all the property, gold, and mansion I have actually belongs to my wife. She's the real owner. If this man seduces her, he gets everything."
Ah.
So she's the CEO and Humble's just the intern who married her up.
Good for her. Honestly, if I had known sugar mommies existed in this world, I'd have changed careers.
"I see. So Ovary's out here playing chess with his junk."
Now it made sense.
"Alright. There's only one way to find the truth," I declared.
I looked at Humble.
"Call your wife. I'll talk to her directly. Don't worry, I can detect lies like a therapist with WiFi."
"Yes, my lord!" he said.
Then he turned toward the mansion and bellowed:
"APHRODITE! COME OUT, DEAR!"
Oh.
Aphrodite.
Now we're talking.
She must be drop-dead gorgeous.
"Coming, darling," a voice replied from inside the mansion.
And the voice?
Mid.
Like... lukewarm soup. Not hot, not cold—just there, existing, like a filler episode in sound form.
But hey, maybe the universe gave her a voice like a rusty harmonium because she looked like Helen of Troy on steroids.
Compensation package, you know?
So we waited.
One minute passed.
Then two.
Then three, four, five—bro, ten f*ing minutes went by.
For a mansion that's literally ten steps away.
What was she doing? Changing outfits? Shaving her aura?
Did she have to reload her personality?
Anyway—finally. Finally.
The gates of the mansion creaked open like the jaws of fate itself.
"I am here, darling~"
And then…
She stepped out.
Aphrodite.
She ran—no, lumbered—towards Humble like a romantic bulldozer in a night,.
And then she hugged him from behind, arms wrapping around him like a python with back problems.
And I… I saw her.
And so did everyone else.
And in that moment, a silence descended.
Not the silence of awe.
Not the silence of respect.
But the silence of collective visual trauma.
What I mean to say is…
Optimus Prime had returned.