Reborn into a world where logic was a feeble suggestion and inconsistency was the primary currency had been a profoundly disorienting experience for Julius Rafa Horfold, the Crown Prince of the Horfold Kingdom.
Everyone insisted this was a matriarchal world, a society ruled by and for women.
But what was the actual, tangible fact of the matter?
The original author of this world, in a fit of sheer laziness or perhaps deliberate malice, had essentially thrown all coherent world-building out the window. This left Julius trapped, forced to live with the daily, grating reality of a system that was fundamentally broken.
The world, despite being loudly and proudly proclaimed as one ruled by women, was still functionally administered by men sitting on the royal council and, in many cases, holding the throne itself.
The power structure was a chaotic, illogical mess.
His own father was a perfect example of this schism, a king who wielded genuine, absolute authority over the kingdom's political and military affairs.
The garrisons of troops were still led by male generals, the colossal war-mecha were piloted by men, and the most magicians in the royal court were men.
Well, there was one brutal difference.
This was not a world where women naturally desired men or took genuine, loving care of them. Instead, they had evolved into a generation of insufferable, entitled feminists who expected every single aspect of life to be delivered to them on a silver platter, demanding the fruits of labor without the will to do the labor itself.
They occupied high-ranking, prestigious titles, using their positions to order low-born men and male subordinates to their every bidding while they reclined and enjoyed all the social and financial benefits.
This was the ugly, unvarnished reality of his new world, the direct and bitter price of an author who ignored basic logic in favor of a vague, half-baked premise.
So, for any fool dreaming of an easy life in a sexually reversed paradise, you should be thoroughly prepared for a disappointment.
This world was not the playful fantasy of female dominance you might imagine. It was a grim, exploitative society where men were systematically used and drained by feminist women who craved absolute power and control over them, but who possessed a deep-seated, institutional laziness that prevented them from doing the actual hard work required to earn that power legitimately.
Julius Rafa Horfold despised the direction of this entire society.
He was a man accustomed to a natural order, a world where women were taught to serve and support their men, and to faithfully maintain the sacred bonds of marriage.
But what was the reality here? Women were legally permitted to build vast harems, exploiting men financially and physically, openly cuckolding their partners, all while being protected by the very laws of the kingdom.
He hated all of it with a burning, visceral passion. His initial, private fantasy of a sexually reversed world was ruthlessly and completely destroyed by the shitty, hypocritical truth of his surroundings.
The injustice of it all festered within him, a cold fire demanding action.
Consequently, his first official act as Crown Prince was to immediately abolish the ridiculous, demeaning "tea ceremony," a mandatory ritual where noblemen were obliged to kneel and serve women, practicing the delicate, useless arts of the househusband while their own potential rotted away.
He saw it as a profound waste of human capital.
Rather than allowing their formidable talents, their physical capabilities, and their significant magical aptitude to be squandered on trivial household responsibilities designed solely for female convenience, he formally proposed to his father that these men be immediately reassigned to more pragmatic and demanding positions, such as advanced magic theory classes, intensive swordsmanship training, or any other discipline that would forge them into useful instruments of state power, rather than keeping them as pampered, decorative pets.
As he was finalizing the details of his radical plan, his mother, seated directly across from him at the ornate dining table, picked up the manuscript and began to read.
Her expression quickly shifted from casual interest to flat, unimpressed disbelief.
"Julius," she began, her voice devoid of its usual warmth, "have you truly considered the consequences? If this plan of yours is formally proposed and implemented, it will make you unpopular in the eyes of women across the kingdom. Moreover, you are challenging deeply entrenched laws and centuries of tradition that dictate we, as noblemen, must always act as gentlemen toward women."
She delivered this not with anger, but with a weary, almost pitying enthusiasm, as if explaining a fundamental truth to a stubborn child.
His father, who had been observing the exchange while seated with them, suddenly reached over and snatched the manuscript from her hands.
His eyes scanned the pages, and a low, appreciative chuckle escaped his lips. "This is an interesting proposition. A bold one. Good job, my son."
He gave Julius a firm, approving thumbs-up, his pride evident.
"But, my dear…" his mother started, her tone pleading for reason, but his father cut her off with a sharp wave of his hand.
"No 'buts.' I believe he is correct. Women in this kingdom have grown far too comfortable with their privileges and unchecked rights. This systemic coddling should be abolished sooner rather than later."
He then paused, his gaze shifting back to Julius, becoming more strategic. "However, your mother is also right about one thing, Julius. Not now. The timing is critical."
Julius simply nodded, his face a mask of stoic resolve. He didn't particularly care about the timing, as long as the end goal was achieved.
He was fully prepared to be patient, to play the long game. If the only way to reform this shitty, biased feminist world and wrench it back toward a normal, balanced society was to slowly accumulate enough personal power to force the change through, then he would do exactly that.
He would bide his time, build his influence, and if necessary, seize control by force to enact his vision.
"So," his father interjected, deftly changing the subject, "how is your relationship with Angelica progressing?"
His eyes studied Julius with keen interest.
Julius offered a noncommittal shrug. "It's… fine."
His sister, who had been listening quietly, chose that moment to interject with a deeply deadpan response. "Then why does your entire policy draft radiate such a hatred for women, Brother Julius, if your relationship with her is supposedly 'fine'?"
"I do not hate women as a gender," Julius replied, his voice unnervingly calm and controlled. "I despise the specific policy that allows women to maintain harems of men, to be served hand and foot by them, all while being protected from any consequence by the law. That system is what is ridiculous, not the women themselves."
His sister fell silent for a long moment, processing his words before finally letting out a soft pout. "I suppose the abolition of harems is… acceptable. But will you truly have the heart to force your own sister to endure such hardship, brother? Having men serve us provides a necessary layer of convenience and security for the royal family, for us."
"A convenience that directly increases the statistical probability of their husbands being publicly humiliated and cuckolded. My answer is no. The solution is simple," Julius stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We will systematically change the staffing structure of the entire kingdom. The servants will be women, trained and employed to serve, while men will be focusing their energies on governance, magic, and combat. It is a rebalancing of the natural order."
His father clapped his hands together, a wide, cheering grin on his face.
"Good! Excellent! We should absolutely do as you say, Julius! Of course," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "you will need to build your own power base first. A king cannot legislate without an army at his back."
Both women, his mother and his sister, could only look at the two of them, their faces a perfect mirror of deadpan exhaustion at their antics.
They exchanged a long, knowing glance, a single, silent question hanging in the air between them:
Are they just sexist, anti-feminist bastards, perhaps?
But the two men paid their silent judgment no mind.
They were already engrossed in their own world, talking strategy back and forth, their conversation punctuated by occasional sips of water and bites of food at the dining table.
His mother and sister were left as mere spectators, forced to listen to their plotting, completely unable to intervene or butt into the conversation that was so decisively shaping their future.