It might have sounded pitiful when said out loud, but in the end, the lack of interference allowed for the complete takedown of everyone involved. No fingers in the way, no strings pulled, it was clean.

And oddly enough, fame followed. From a completely unexpected place.

“Your Highness, welcome!”

“Please, Your Highness, once again today!”

“Make it loud! Blow ’em away for us!”

The voices echoed from the sewer district. At first, the people there had feared him, he who stormed through with a monstrous blade, leading the strike force from one gang hideout to the next. Buildings collapsed with every swing of that sword, walls reduced to dust beneath the weight of justice. But then it changed.

Representatives would show up after each raid, offering compensation and new housing.

“We’re from House Royce. We’d like to discuss relocation plans along with fair compensation and a temporary residence.”

Even jobs were offered.

“If you’re willing, we can arrange employment opportunities as well.”

Who could hate that? All of it had started with Sophia’s idea. Naturally, the funding came from Viscount Royce. The reason was simple.

“Has any noble house shown this much care for the poor? Still think we’re lowborn aristocrats?”

It wasn’t charity, they benefited too.

Garlan wanted blood. Sophia wanted to prove her worth. Aindel wanted to reshape his house’s image. Three goals aligned.

“Boom …crack!”

“Arrest them all!”

“Yes, Your Highness!” 

“Don’t even think of running. Anyone who doesn’t bow before the prince dies where they stand!”

Swinging the breaker sword left shockwaves in the air,each arc roaring louder than the last. Walls crumbled and furniture split cleanly in two. One man, barely outside the attack range, threw himself face-first onto the ground.

“Uhhh… Y-Your Highness! We surrender!”

The rest fell with him, bowing low as their lives clung to hope.

“We greet Your Highness!”

“Take them.”

The strike force charged in, binding and dragging the criminals away. Garlan looked as though he wanted to swing his blade a bit more, but Andre came up casually to deliver a report.

“These days, Your Highness’s reputation is spreading like wildfire through the sewer gangs. That’s probably why they surrendered so fast.”

“My reputation? For what?”

“They say if you don’t bow, you die. And among the local residents…”

“Among them?”

“They say wherever Your Highness’s greatsword passes, fortune follows.”

“Hmph. Superstitious nonsense from the uneducated.”

He scoffed, shaking his head at the absurdity. But as they stepped outside, a crowd of impoverished residents lay prostrate on the ground. When he scraped a nearby building with the sword, their faces lit up.

Andre chuckled quietly beside him, but Garlan ignored it and continued walking, even after the raid was finished. He dragged the blade along the ground, letting it scrape against brick and stone as he went.

“The majority of organizations in the sewer district have been neutralized. All affiliated suspects have been taken into custody. Those tied to the demon-worshipper trade are being reported separately.”

“And the palace eunuchs?”

“There’s evidence they helped shelter the cult. They deny everything, but we’ve got enough proof. It’ll come to something.”

“We’ll need to push for execution where we can.”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

They wouldn’t be able to execute them all, but a few, those consumed by greed, would die.

According to imperial law, anyone associated with demons deserved death, but that law had long since been watered down. If the Empress chose to protect them to the bitter end, even he wouldn’t be able to stop her.

The cult’s power would shrink for now, but this alone wouldn’t be enough to uproot it completely. 

Alfred’s report helped cool his anger. For the time being, it would suffice.

[You have devoured the lesser destinies of Neglect, Scorn, Helplessness, and Foolishness! You gain Alteration Points!] 

[You’ve nullified a scheme among the lesser destinies! The eunuchs’ plan to deceive you has failed, and their faction has weakened! The threat level of future plots has dropped!] 

[You have devoured the scheme entirely and earned a large amount of Alteration Points! You have gained enough to convert into 1 Mystery Point!] 

[Many thoughts converge, birthing a new destiny! You have acquired the new lesser destiny: Fragile Justice.]

The results had been plentiful.

Destinies were changing, and not just others. Even his own fate was shifting.

[Analyzing local fate… The area is large, so showing an approximate destiny.]

[You have altered the fate of this place! +2 Mystery Points earned! Your ability to perceive regional fate has grown stronger!] 

[The area’s fate has twisted: Poverty, Tragedy, and Death are now moving toward Life, Hope, and Continuity.] 

[This is a place influenced by you. As long as the fate transformation persists, it will meaningfully impact your future destiny and provide ongoing Alteration Points.]

Even the sewer district’s fate was shifting. Once rotted through with drugs and crime, the streets were beginning to change. Maybe they wouldn’t scrub out every tragedy or erase every sin, but if they could stop history from repeating, that was enough. Now that it affected his destiny directly, he’d need to keep an eye on it going forward.

“Let’s move.”

They had just begun to leave the district when…

“Your Highness! Your Highness!”

High-pitched voices called out. A wave of children came running, faces familiar from the orphanage. Bright-eyed and excited, they rushed up to him and Andre, shouting greetings.

“Oh kids, no …how many times have I told you not to do this? Your Highness, my apologies. The little ones insisted on seeing you…”

Among them was a man, or someone who looked like one. He had the bulk of a grown adult and the wide, slow expression of someone half-asleep.

“A new headmaster? Looks like he takes good care of the kids.”

“…I’m an orphan too, sir.”

“Your age?”

“Fifteen.”

“Not thirty-five?”

“…No, sir. I’m serious.”

“Uh. Wow. Huh. Okay…”

Even he was briefly speechless.

“I’m Beron, sir. I was just about to graduate.”

“Beron, huh… Wait, hold on …Beron?”

Andre had introduced him casually, snapping Garlan out of his disbelief.

Beron, Beron… where had he heard that name?

[Analyzing subject’s destiny. Filled with violence and poison.]

[Fate is twisted. Subject holds deep admiration for you and Andre.]

It clicked.

“The Mad Bull of the Underworld.” “Beron.”

What the hell was he doing here?

That solid, broad back… an idea came to him …quick, wild, perfect.

“Well, well. Hey, old man.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

“…Old man?”

“Do You ever think about working with me?”

“Your Highness! Wait, what do you mean? Beron’s still a …”

“Silence, commoner. I’m talking to the old man.”

Garlan looked at Beron’s eyes, those big, gentle eyes like a docile ox, and smiled. A flicker of unease rippled across Beron’s face, but it was already too late.

“You ever wanted to be a street boss?”

“Street boss? Is that an important job?”

“Very. It means running and protecting this entire sewer district. But if you become the boss, I’ll make you a promise.”

“A promise?”

“Wherever you become the boss, I’ll build an orphanage. One that truly takes care of the kids. Become the street boss of the Empire, and I’ll build orphanages across the whole damn Empire. How about it?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll take the job.”

The hesitation vanished from Beron’s eyes, replaced with quiet, solid resolve.

[The subject’s fate is shifting. A destiny is taking root, the Ox who will guard the streets.]