Making Slaves Remember Their Place

{A/N: Okay.... So this chapter is around more than twice as big as normal chapters since I just got in mood while writing it.

And I got another offer for you let's give a goal of getting 15 chapter comment(Para comments not include in the deal) in exchange of extra chapters.

How does that sound to you? and oh yeah there is poll at the end of the chapter so be sure to participate in it}

'Hmm... Second mission?' Shin thought to himself as the system panel popped up out of nowhere. He still didn't really understand how these missions worked.

When the first mission was assigned to him, he had been knocked out cold. And that mission? Well, it was to kill the giant tiger, but the damn thing ended up dying on its own, so the mission just kind of... completed itself.

'I guess this really is like some RPG game,' he mused, shrugging mentally. The whole thing was still a bit weird, but whatever—it worked. As he mulled it over, something else crossed his mind.

He decided to dig deeper. 'System, show me everything in the Heavenly Demon's library about the Dragon's Heart.'

The system didn't respond with words, but the panel in front of him shifted, the mission screen fading away as new text appeared, full of cryptic info on the Dragon's Heart.

{A Dragon's Heart is one of the top-tier treasures in the martial world. It is created by killing countless pure-blooded dragons, forging their power into a heart-like organ.

A Dragon's Heart can grant a variety of abilities, ranging from time travel to immortality. The specific powers of each Dragon's Heart vary. This is all the information you are able to access at this time.}

As Shin read through the information, his face didn't change at all. He was standing in front of his "slaves" after all—no reason to give anything away. Not that he would've reacted even if he was alone.

He had noticed something strange about himself lately... nothing seemed to excite him anymore. No matter what he learned or achieved, everything just fell short of his expectations, like it was never enough.

Deciding to set the mission aside for now, Shin took a few slow steps forward, closing the distance between him and Meiji. He stared directly into Meiji's eyes, making sure the guy couldn't look away.

Meiji's face paled a little under Shin's intense gaze, though he tried to keep his usual polite smile plastered on his face. Even so, his body betrayed him, and he took a cautious step or two back.

The aura Shin was giving off was… unsettling, almost oppressive, and Meiji couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine. It was like the guy was radiating arrogance without even trying.

"What was your name again?" Shin asked, his voice calm, but his gaze never wavering, drilling into Meiji with an almost predatory focus.

Shin had already figured out that this guy knew exactly what was going on, what Shin was trying to do. But that didn't really matter.

Knowing the plan didn't mean he could do anything to stop it. Still, Shin couldn't help but feel a flicker of interest. Smart people were rare these days, and Meiji seemed sharp.

And that whole submissive act might've worked on someone else, but Shin wasn't buying it. He had come across people like Meiji in his past life too.

People who played the weakling to survive, waiting for their moment to strike. Shin could tell the difference between genuine submission and someone just trying to play the game.

"Hmm... okay," Shin muttered, his voice calm but loud enough for Meiji to hear, the slightest smirk creeping onto his face. "Let me ask you something—would you like to become the leader of this bandit group?"

Meiji's eyes widened, just for a split second. The guy was sharp enough to usually anticipate all kinds of scenarios. He had run through about two dozen possible outcomes in his mind already, but this? This wasn't one of them.

Why the hell was Shin offering him leadership? Meiji was weak, he knew that. If he got into a fight with a ten-year-old, the kid might win.

So why was Shin, after going through all this trouble, suddenly tossing the leadership position his way? If Shin didn't want to be the leader, why had he gone through all that grandstanding in the first place?

Before Meiji could even gather his thoughts to respond, a loud, angry shout interrupted the tense silence.

"WHAT!!"

The outburst came from the front line of the bandits who had been standing in the room, all with their heads lowered, either out of fear or shame.

The voice belonged to a man in his early thirties, covered in scars, with a half-shaved head that looked like it had lost a fight with a lawnmower.

His scarred, weathered face was twisted in anger as he charged toward Shin and Meiji, fists clenched tight enough to make the knuckles crack.

"BRAT! JUST BECAUSE YOU BEAT ME WITH SOME TRICKS DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!!" the man bellowed, spit flying from his mouth as he lunged forward, veins bulging in his neck.

Shin didn't even flinch. His eyes stayed locked on Meiji, completely ignoring the approaching bandit, as if the guy wasn't even worth acknowledging. Meiji, on the other hand, swallowed nervously.

His gaze darted between the angry man and Shin, trying to figure out what was about to happen. There was no way this would end well for the guy charging at Shin like a bull.

Just as the bandit got close enough to throw a punch, Shin finally moved, turning his head slightly to the side and speaking in a flat, bored tone.

"Sit down."

The command wasn't shouted, wasn't said with force—just a simple, cold statement. But the moment the words left Shin's lips, the bandit froze, his rage-filled momentum coming to a sudden halt.

His knees buckled as if the strength had been drained from his body, and he collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, eyes wide with shock.

It was as though some invisible weight had slammed down on him, forcing him to the floor.

Shin finally glanced down at the man, raising an eyebrow, almost amused. "Like I said… sit down."

The rest of the bandits looked up, some in disbelief, others in pure fear, as the room grew deathly silent once more.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO ORDER ME LIKE THIS!" the man roared, his face twisted in rage, veins popping as he glared at Shin.

'Pest,' Shin thought, feeling nothing but mild irritation at the outburst. It was almost sad to see how impulsive and reckless the guy was, throwing around his anger without a second thought, as if that would actually get him anywhere.

Without a word, Shin calmly extended his fist. Flames erupted from his hand, blazing to life out of thin air, licking up his knuckles in a mesmerizing dance of heat and light.

Before the bandit could even register what was happening, Shin's fiery fist collided with his face, the impact resounding like a hammer against stone.

The bandit's body went flying, crashing to the floor with a sickening thud, his nose shattered, blood pouring from the wound.

He groaned in pain, his hands clutching his face as he writhed on the ground. The flames that had engulfed Shin's fist flickered out, disappearing just as quickly as they had come.

Shin didn't rush. He walked over slowly, almost lazily, toward the downed man, the room still deathly quiet as the other bandits watched in shock.

Reaching him, Shin placed his foot on the man's broken, bleeding face, pressing down just enough to make him squirm, the weight of it silencing any further protests.

"Pest," Shin muttered, his voice low but laced with contempt. He looked down at the man with cold, unfeeling eyes.

"Your confidence is impressive... considering you've done nothing to earn it."

Without waiting for a response, Shin raised his hand again, this time using telekinesis to summon a sword from across the room.

The weapon flew through the air, spinning before landing perfectly in his outstretched hand, the metal gleaming ominously in the dim light.

Shin lifted his foot off the bandit's face, but it wasn't a gesture of mercy. Instead, it was preparation. In one smooth, fluid motion, he brought the blade down, beheading the man with terrifying precision.

Blood sprayed across the floor, but Shin's expression didn't change, not even a flicker of emotion.

The other bandits stood frozen, fear radiating off them like a thick cloud as they watched their comrade's lifeless body slump to the floor.

Shin didn't bother looking at them, wiping the sword on the dead man's clothes before letting it drop carelessly to the ground.

"And that's how you remind people of their place," he said, almost casually, as if he'd just swatted a fly instead of executing someone in cold blood.

"So… Meiji, tell me what your answer is," Shin asked, his expression as lazy as ever, his eyes half-lidded as he studied the bandit who was now sweating bullets. The tension in the room was so thick it felt like you could cut it with a knife.

Meiji's mind raced, panic clawing at him. 'THIS GUY IS A PSYCHOPATH! I AM SURE OF IT!' The thought echoed through his head like a siren blaring in the night.

Sure, Hirosi was evil, but he wasn't a psychopath. Hirosi had rules, a twisted moral code. But Shin? He was a different breed entirely.

If there was one lesson that had stuck with Meiji from his childhood, it was this: "Intellectuals try to act like psychopaths, while the real psychopaths are busy acting like intellectuals."

This thought fit the situation perfectly. Meiji could see it clear as day—Shin was putting on a façade of casual indifference, but there was something dark lurking beneath that calm exterior.

His throat felt dry, and beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as he struggled to maintain his composure.

He had expected all sorts of scenarios when Shin had thrown that unexpected proposition his way, but this was something else entirely.

Being offered leadership was one thing; surviving this encounter was a whole different game.

"Uh, well… I—" Meiji stammered, fumbling over his words as he desperately searched for a safe answer.

He could feel the eyes of the other bandits boring into him, the mix of fear and curiosity hanging in the air.

Everyone was waiting for him to respond, and it felt like the weight of their expectations was pressing down on his chest.

He glanced around, taking in the faces of his comrades, who were just as terrified as he was.

What would they think if he turned down Shin? Would they see him as weak? Or worse, would they think he was foolish enough to defy someone like him? He swallowed hard, mind racing.

"I—um, I think… I could lead," he finally managed to say, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. "If that's what you want, my lord."

{A/N: Have my writing skills improved a bit or not?}

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