Having discovered a "shortcut" to building his empire, Takero was in an exceptionally good mood. He hummed an old rock song he remembered from his past life as he swaggered down the cold corridors of the castle.
'A Saiyan army... just thinking about it gives me chills!' he thought gleefully. 'Once the army is ready, I'll have to pay that bastard Shanks a visit and show him what a real 'crew' looks like!' The thought of the look on Shanks's face when he saw a sky full of Saiyan warriors made Takero grin from ear to ear.
Lost in his pleasant daydreams, he found himself outside Queen Sora's lounge. "Hmm..." He stroked his chin, a knowing smile spreading across his face. Since the woman—and the entire country—was now his "property," he felt it was only right for him, as the new king, to get to know his possessions a little better. Although his current ten-year-old body couldn't do anything particularly "adult," his mind was far older. Laying the groundwork for a "happy" future was just the kind of foresight a mature man should have.
With this "pure" goal in mind, Takero pushed open the half-closed door. The scene that greeted him, however, was not what he had imagined. The room was a complete mess. A young maid was sprawled on the floor, a bright red handprint on her cheek and blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were filled with fear. Standing over her were the three brothers: Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji.
"Useless! You can't even do one simple thing right!" the red-haired Ichiji shouted, kicking over a tea table and sending pastries scattering across the floor.
"All you had to do was bring some snacks," the blue-haired Niji said with a malicious grin. He stepped forward and cruelly ground his heel onto the maid's fingers.
"Ugh..." The maid whimpered in pain but didn't dare to scream.
On the bed, Sora was struggling to sit up, trying desperately to make them stop. "Stop it! Ichiji! Niji! Stop it right now! You are forbidden from bullying Cosette!" But her body was too frail, and her voice was too weak. The three brothers, who had long since lost any respect for their "failure" of a mother, didn't even bother to look at her.
The smile on Takero's face vanished. A cold, quiet anger began to build inside him. He wasn't some hero of justice; he didn't particularly care about the strong bullying the weak. But this was different. These kids, and this maid, were now his property. And they were hurting his people on his territory. It was like a pack of wild dogs wandering into a lion's den and tearing apart one of the Lion King's rabbits right in front of him. This wasn't a question of right or wrong. This was a direct challenge to his authority.
"You three," a cold voice suddenly cut through the room, "seem to be having a lot of fun."
Ichiji and his brothers froze. They all turned to see the black-haired young man they feared leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and his face unreadable.
"It's... it's you..." Ichiji's pupils shrank.
"I told you, starting today, everything in this country belongs to me," Takero said, walking slowly into the room. Each step seemed to land on the brothers' chests. "So, who gave you the guts to touch my people in my home?"
"She's... she's just a lowly maid!" Niji stammered, trying to use the twisted logic their father had taught them to justify his actions.
"A maid?" Takero stopped in front of him and looked down with a smile.
"SLAP—!!!"
The sound of the slap was deafening. The force of the blow sent Niji spinning like a top before he crashed into the far wall and slumped to the floor, unconscious.
"Niji!" Ichiji and Yonji cried out in alarm.
"Now," Takero said, shaking out his hand as his calm gaze swept over the remaining two, "does anyone else have anything to say about her being 'just a maid'?"
The room was deathly silent. Sora, Reiju, Sanji, and even the maid Cosette stared in shock.
"You... Why did you hit us?!" Ichiji finally snapped out of it, his face a mixture of anger and defiance. "We are the princes of Germa! You are our..." He wanted to say "stepfather," but he couldn't bring himself to say the word.
"Exactly," Takero interrupted him. "You're my 'sons.' And I'm your father now. So..." His figure vanished.
"Bang! Bang!"
Two dull thuds echoed in the room. Ichiji and Yonji didn't even see him move before they were both struck with a hard punch to the stomach. They doubled over like cooked shrimp and collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Takero retracted his fists and clapped his hands together. It was only natural for a father to educate his sons.
Reiju and Sanji, who had been watching from the side, were terrified. But for Sanji, seeing the brothers who had tormented him his whole life get so decisively punished also brought a strange feeling of... satisfaction.
"There. Much quieter," Takero said, as if he'd just finished a simple chore. He walked over to the bed and looked at Sora's complicated expression. "This won't happen again." He paused, then made a declaration in a tone that could not be defied. "Listen to me. In this country, on Ambri Island, everywhere—everyone and everything belongs to me. Their lives and their deaths are mine to decide. That is the privilege of the strong. If any of you have a problem with that, you are free to challenge me. If you can defeat me, you can take everything I have, including my life."
He glanced at the three unconscious boys on the floor and added with a sneer, "Of course, these three wouldn't stand a chance even if they trained for another hundred years."
This simple, brutal, and purely Saiyan declaration of power left everyone in the room in a state of shock. For the first time, a strange light flickered in Reiju's guarded eyes. This new "father" seemed... better than the one who only saw them as science experiments. As for Sanji, he looked at Takero with pure adoration. To him, this big brother was like a hero from one of his storybooks.
After finishing his "family education," Takero waved a hand at the other two children. "Alright, you two, drag these three out of here. I need to have a private conversation with your mother."
Though they were confused, Reiju and Sanji obediently began dragging their unconscious brothers out of the room, even helping the terrified maid, Cosette, to her feet before thoughtfully closing the door.
For a moment, only Takero and Sora remained in the large room. Sora's face had started to turn a slight shade of red. "Um... sir..." she began, finally mustering her courage. "My body... I'm not well. I'm afraid... I'm afraid I cannot fulfill the... obligations you might be expecting."
"I know." Takero nodded and sat down on the edge of her bed. "Don't worry. I won't touch you while you're this sick."
Sora felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment.
"However," Takero's tone shifted, and a smile that made Sora's heart flutter appeared on his face, "your illness isn't impossible to cure. When I have some time, I'll help you with that. But before we start the treatment..." He reached out a hand towards her still-flat lower abdomen, his intentions clear. It was time for a quick "check-up."
Just as his fingers were about to brush against her silk nightgown—
"Pururururu... Pururururu... Kacha!"
The sudden, urgent ringing of a Den Den Mushi shattered the tense atmosphere. Takero clicked his tongue in annoyance and pulled the special Den Den Mushi from his pocket. As soon as it connected, the snail's face morphed into a perfect imitation of Tesoro's, which was filled with panic.
"Boss! It's bad!" Tesoro's voice shouted, more urgent than Takero had ever heard it. "Something's happened on Ambri Island! We're under attack by a powerful enemy! We... we can't hold on much longer!"
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