"Who are you?" shot back Nickan, desperate to identify the mysterious voice, but it receded into nothingness as consciousness shifted once again.
Nickan's eyes fluttered open to find himself in an entirely different setting. He was lying in an enormous bed surrounded by naked women sleeping peacefully around him. He was positioned in the middle of them all, like the center of a twisted constellation.
Shit, Nickan thought, suddenly remembering something crucial. I forgot to test if I could change the book's content or story to my liking. He let out a vividly annoyed "tch" sound and began carefully extricating himself from the tangle of limbs to stand up.
As he carefully navigated his way out of the bed, a thought occurred to him. Perhaps this strange experience would grant him some kind of system interface, like in those anime or manga he used to read. The moment he thought "system," a display materialized before his eyes, but this time the details were entirely different from what he'd seen in his real life:
[Welcome to Mastermind System!]
Name: Sengoku
Age: 29
Talent: Dragonslayer, Beastmaster, Swordgod, Magicmaster, etc.
Class Rank: SSS
Special title: Ruler Monarch
Nickan's jaw dropped as he stared enviously at the "Talent" section. The skills listed were beyond imagination—Sengoku possessed abilities that far outclassed his own pitiful "None" in the real world.
Moreover, the "etc." suggested there were even more talents hidden or yet to be attained. His eyes then moved to the ostentatious special title: "Ruler Monarch," which seemed far too flamboyant even for a womanizer like Sengoku.
While absorbed in these thoughts, a knock sounded at the door, followed by a soothing female voice: "Master, your father is here to meet you."
Nickan wanted to respond with a simple "Coming," but instead, what emerged from his mouth was: "That old geezer likes to ruin my time. I've had enough of his meddling with my life. Anyway, tell him to wait or leave."
"Okay, master!" replied the maid, her footsteps fading as she departed.
Still can't control what I say. Fantastic, Nickan thought bitterly as Sengoku's body moved toward the washroom. Standing under the shower, Nickan couldn't help but notice the reason women might be drawn to Sengoku. His physique was impressive, his facial features perfect, and even his... well, everything was beyond Nickan's league. With a resigned sigh, he—or rather, Sengoku—stepped out after a while.
Sengoku's wardrobe choices were not what Nickan would have selected for himself. The gaudy robes with intricate dragon embroidery and excessive golden embellishments seemed tacky to Nickan's more understated tastes, but he had no choice. Next time, he promised himself, if I wake up again after this session, I'll definitely try to alter details. I need to remember that. He was growing increasingly frustrated with Sengoku's sense of humor and general attitude.
With mixed feelings, Nickan made his way to meet Sengoku's father, hoping the patriarch might show more restraint than his son. Those hopes were quickly crushed upon entering the meeting room. Like father, like son—the older man was engaged in passionate activities with a maid and, worse yet, didn't even stop when Sengoku entered the room.
Nickan wanted to exclaim, "What the hell, you old geezer?" but what came out was: "Why you old bastard, how dare you make out in my castle with my maids!"
The older man pulled away from the maid with a lazy grin. "My son, welcome! Join me, won't you?"
"No, Master Koga, I'm at my limit," moaned the maid breathlessly.
Koga scoffed. "You maids are no fun. It's been just ten times, and you're already done. Talk about utter disappointment. I bet my son can't force you beyond your limits."
"No, it's nothing like that," the maid protested weakly. "Master Sengoku is an awesome backpusher. Please don't blame him."
"Whatever," Koga dismissed her defense with a wave of his hand.
Internally, Nickan was shocked. Ten times!? You're kidding me, right? But Sengoku's response was even more outrageous: "Ten times is enough for you, you old geezer. And my limit is forty times, just so you know."
What's wrong with their reproductive system? Nickan screamed inwardly. These people were beyond human!
Koga seemed impressed. "Great. Anyway, I came here to ask you why you betrayed your friend Ron of the Ronohashi clan by cheating with his fiancée on his wedding day, ruining it all."
Nickan braced himself, wondering what despicable justification this piece of scum would provide. But Sengoku's answer made him reconsider his opinion:
"That fiancée of Ron was a whore, and I knew it all along. I didn't want to make my friend Ron feel like he made the wrong choice, so I gladly became the villain for all and saved him from harm."
Koga nodded approvingly. "That's very kind of you. Anyway, how did that whore make you feel? I heard she was a beauty."
"Otherworldly," Sengoku admitted, "but her beauty is rotten."
"I wish I could have been you," Koga sighed nostalgically, "so young and lustful."
Nickan wanted to say, You old bastard, you should act your age, but Sengoku merely replied, "Go to your grave, will you?"
Koga burst into laughter. "Not until I've f*cked your eighth wife."
Finding this old man unbelievable, Nickan desperately wanted to leave—and for once, Sengoku's actions aligned with his desires. As he left the room, Sengoku called back to his father, "As long as you bring me a eighth stepmom!"
These people are insane, Nickan thought as Sengoku strode down the hallway. Servants bowed deeply as he passed, their eyes never meeting his. The castle was truly magnificent, with high ceilings, intricate tapestries depicting battles and dragons, and ornate furniture that spoke of extreme wealth.
Sengoku paused at a large window overlooking a training yard where soldiers practiced with swords and spears. One young man in particular caught his attention—a slender figure with black hair and white skin was moving with exceptional grace among the others.
"Hayato!" Sengoku called out, his voice echoing across the yard.
The young man immediately sheathed his sword and ran toward the castle. Minutes later, he knelt before Sengoku in a side chamber.
"Master Sengoku, you called for me?"
"How goes your training? Are you ready for what's to come?"
"I am, master," Hayato replied with unwavering confidence. "The Yamato clan won't know what hit them."
Nickan felt Sengoku's lips curl into a smile. "Good. Because Ron has joined forces with them now."
Hayato's eyes widened. "Your friend Ron? But why would he—"
"It's complicated," Sengoku cut him off. "And no longer important. What matters is that we're prepared. The Yamato clan has been a thorn in our side for too long, and now they think they've gained an advantage."
So this is the buildup to the conflict mentioned earlier, Nickan realized. Ron joining Yamato against Sengoku after the betrayal.
"What are your orders, master?" Hayato asked, his hand resting on his sword hilt.
"Gather the other Dragon Disciples. We'll need all seven of you for what's coming."
"As you wish."
After Hayato departed, Sengoku moved to a private chamber where a massive map was spread across a table. Various territories were marked with different colors and symbols, with the largest portion—presumably Sengoku's domain—marked with a dragon emblem.
Sengoku's fingers traced a path from a mountain range labeled "Yamato Stronghold" to his own territory. "They'll come from the north," he muttered to himself. "Through the Valley of Whispers."
A soft knock interrupted his strategizing. "Enter," he commanded.
A beautiful woman glided into the room, her silk robes flowing around her like water. Unlike the other women Nickan had seen so far in this world, she carried herself with dignity and authority.
"Lady Akemi," Sengoku acknowledged with surprising respect. "What brings you to my war room?"
"Your father told me about Ron," she said, her voice melodious yet firm. "You've created quite the situation, haven't you?"
"News travels fast."
"Nothing I can't handle," Sengoku replied dismissively.
"Don't underestimate the Yamato clan," Lady Akemi warned. "Their Dragon Arts rival even yours. And Ron knows your weaknesses."
"I have no weaknesses," Sengoku declared arrogantly.
Lady Akemi stepped closer, and Nickan noticed something strange about her eyes—they were vertical slits, like a reptile's. "Everyone has weaknesses, Sengoku. Even you."
Dragon Arts? Nickan's interest was piqued. Was this the source of the "Dragonslayer" talent listed in the system?
"My Dragon Arts are unmatched," Sengoku boasted, rolling up his sleeve to reveal scales embedded in his skin. They shimmered with an iridescent blue glow, pulsing with power.
"I've slain twelve dragons and absorbed their essence. How many has that Lord Yamato claimed? Five? Six?"
"Eight," Lady Akemi corrected. "And his son has taken four more in the past year."
Sengoku's expression darkened. "Impossible. The sacred grounds are protected by my barriers, only I have access to them."
"Someone betrayed you," Lady Akemi said simply. "Someone gave them access."
Sengoku slammed his fist on the table, causing the map to flutter. "Who would dare?"
As Lady Akemi stepped closer, Nickan noticed something strange about her eyes—they were vertical slits, like a reptile's.
Sengoku turned away. "Leave me. I need to prepare."
After Lady Akemi departed, Sengoku moved to a hidden panel in the wall. He pressed his scaled arm against it, and the wall slid open to reveal a chamber bathed in ethereal blue light. Inside, suspended in a transparent liquid, floated a massive dragon heart, still beating slowly.
"Soon," Sengoku whispered to it. "Soon I'll have enough power to complete the transformation. And then, not even Yamato himself will stand in my way."
Nickan felt a chill run through him. What kind of monster was he inhabiting? What "transformation" was Sengoku planning?
As Sengoku closed the hidden chamber and returned to the map, a young servant rushed in without knocking.
"Master! Urgent news! The Yamato forces have been spotted in the Valley of Whispers, just as you predicted. But they're not alone—they've allied with the mountain tribes and the shadow clans from the east!"
Sengoku's face revealed no surprise. "So it begins," he murmured, reaching for a helmet shaped like a dragon's head that hung on the wall. "Sound the horns. Awaken the Dragon Disciples. It's time to show them why I am called the Dragon Prince."
As he donned the helmet, Nickan felt a surge of power unlike anything he'd experienced before.
Sengoku's body began to transform, scales emerging across his skin, his eyes shifting to vertical slits like Lady Akemi's.
What's happening to me? Nickan wondered in horror as the transformation continued. The last thing he remembered before his consciousness began to fade was Sengoku looking in a mirror, smiling at his increasingly inhuman appearance, and whispering:
"The dragonslayer awakens."