Chapter 122: Justice

The fat man scrambled off the sofa, looking disgruntled as he turned to leave. "I'm sleepy. I'm going back to bed!"

"Stop causing me trouble!" Hou Jinhua snapped with venom in her voice.

As expected, no one believed me. But this was exactly the effect I was aiming for.

As the fat man walked out of the office, he spoke, half-resigned and half-relieved.

"So, you're not a fool after all. You've deceived everyone!" A voice suddenly rang out in his mind.

"You? You can actually see into my thoughts?" The fat man was visibly shaken, though his expression remained steady. "Is this why Zhao Boyue offered you to me as a tribute? A cunning old fox indeed."

"Spare me the chatter. That man surnamed Zhao is the greatest fool in the world for letting a heaven-sent opportunity slip through his fingers," the sword replied with utter disdain. "But you guessed right; he does have designs on usurping power."

"He has secretly hoarded spiritual cores worth 450 million silver coins, planning to send his son to meet with the Northern Star Chamber of Commerce, eliminate the three big bosses behind you, and pave the way for his own rise."

"Oh? Then why didn't you choose to bind with him?" the fat man sneered inwardly as he walked.

"He is far too cruel. He intended to wipe out your entire Hou family before taking power. I am a Sword of Justice; naturally, I could not choose him," the sword declared righteously.

"Hmph, hypocrite!" the fat man thought with contempt. "I suspect you simply realized he had no chance of success..."

"Wrong. If I had bound myself to him, his probability of success would have been one hundred percent!" the sword retorted stubbornly.

"Then why choose me?" the fat man demanded.

"Because you are a fool, yet you are one of the people in the Nanling Chamber of Commerce closest to the top. Your hands are not stained with evil, so I chose you."

The fat man went silent. He knew the sword was right.

His mother, Hou Jinhua, had killed countless people who whispered in the shadows just to secure the position left by her cousin. This, however, had led to widespread unrest; she never received first-hand information, and everyone lied to her. She was obsessed with cultivation, believing, as the sword had said, that as long as her power was absolute, no one would dare to resist.

"Heh, I suppose I am lucky. In this chaotic world, how many people at the top can claim their hands are clean?" the fat man mused. "Only a fool like me lacks both the capacity and the intent to harm others."

Engrossed in his internal dialogue with the sword, the fat man arrived at his residence. It was a sprawling villa with an entrance garden, three floors above ground, and two levels below.

"Young Master, you've returned." A young girl in the bloom of youth stepped out from the garden.

"Oh, Juejue, I just had a terrifying experience. A sword pierced my chest," the fat man immediately beamed, greeting her with open arms. "I need a hug."

"There, there, don't be afraid," Juejue said, patting his shoulder to soothe him.

The fat man seized the opportunity. "Uh, Juejue, an afternoon nap is good for one's complexion. The sun is so harsh; it's easy to get sunburned. Let's go take a nap together."

*Thump!* The fat man was tossed into a rose bush in the garden.

Juejue looked at him with utter disgust, hands on her hips. "Fatty, give you an inch and you take a mile. Go take your nap yourself; I don't have time to coddle you!"

The girl returned to her work in the garden. The fat man climbed out of the roses, completely unscathed.

"It seems your foundation is quite solid. I doubt many people know that," the sword said thoughtfully.

"Hmph, you know now," the fat man replied, walking into the villa.

How could he trust a sword with no known origin? Although many of his secrets were exposed, he believed he still had a chance. He held cards the sword didn't know about, but he first needed to figure out who the sword was and who stood behind it.

"By the way, you claim to be a Sword of Justice. What exactly is your goal?" The fat man reached his bedroom and threw himself onto the massive bed, rolling around.

"My goal is simple: to uphold justice and purge this filthy world!" the sword proclaimed with righteous indignation.

"Boring. Do you even know what justice is?" The fat man sneered to himself. "The stance of different races varies entirely. How can there be a singular justice? What is justice to a human is evil to a pig."

"Young man, your values are severely twisted. I need to correct them. Come, let us begin your education in love and justice..." the sword said earnestly.

"Hmph, love and justice? Do you think I'm still some naive teenager, easily swayed by a few words?" the fat man scoffed.

"Ah!" A moment later, the man who hadn't felt a shred of pain falling into the rose bush let out a scream like a slaughtered pig.

In the garden outside, Juejue was startled by the sound. She glanced over, then continued her work. "He's definitely trying to trick me into going in there. Damn fatty, one day I'll castrate you!"

"How is it, young man? Do you understand what justice is now?" the sword gloated.

"Damn it, I understand! Master Sword, whatever you say is justice," the fat man immediately pivoted.

"Very good. You are indeed a talent worth molding. Now, I have a righteous mission for you: work hard to become stronger, then ascend to the top and walk the path of light," the sword commanded.

"Fool, I have a bloodline curse placed on me by three powerful evil entities. If I didn't act like an idiot, they would have killed me long ago. My mother is powerful enough—she has nearly the strength of those three entities combined—but because of this bloodline curse, her hands are tied," the fat man sneered.

"Oh? You mean the three shackles on your soul? I already broke them for you. You didn't feel it?" the sword said dismissively.

"What? You broke them?" The fat man was shocked. Of course he hadn't felt it; he would only feel the pain if the casters activated the curse, and his mother would have felt it a hundred times over.

"Stop shouting. You're dragging down the reputation of this divine Sword of Justice. You are my first host, so try to act like it."

"Who created you? Was it the owner of that manor? No, that's impossible. They wouldn't bother with the trivial messes of a gutter like Earth," the fat man pressed.

"Where I came from is none of your concern. You only need to know that I am justice, and justice is me. Don't you like being a fool? Then do as I say."

"Hmph, this is coercion! It's too much! If you order me to walk to my death, must I obey?" The fat man, having forgotten the pain, immediately pushed back.

"Insolent! Is that how you speak to your grandfather Justice?"

"Ah! Grandfather, I was wrong! Do whatever you want with me!" The fat man completely surrendered.

"That's better. Don't worry, as long as you listen, there are great benefits. Here is your first one: I have my own internal space. Go get some spiritual cores and fill it up. I need power."

"How big is your space, Grandfather?" The fat man frowned.

"About a cubic meter."

"A cubic meter? That's not much. Let's see... a 100-point fruit is about 9 cubic centimeters. To fill a cubic meter, I'd only need 37,037 of them."

"You're quite clever. You calculated that quickly."

"Hmph, inbreeding results in either geniuses or fools."

"If you know that, why aren't you out there getting them? Do you want me to continue your education?"