My Dad Is a Popular Villain in a Comic Book - Chapter 2

Huh? This person actually admitted to being a bad guy?

Do bad guys usually admit they’re bad? Don’t they usually claim to be good people? Wait, if I flip that logic… does that mean the person who calls himself a bad guy is actually a good guy?

Albin’s little brain stalled for a moment. Before he could figure it out, he simply pressed his weapon further forward and used a shaky tone to intimidate the “bad guy” before him. “Y-you’d better not move, or I’ll poke you! Don’t look at me like I’m little I’m super good at fighting! I’ve never lost!”

He wasn’t lying, though his fighting experience consisted of exactly one encounter. A boy in his neighborhood had once called him an unwanted child and tried to snatch a toy his brother had bought him; Albin had fought him and won. Regardless of the details, he had technically never lost.

The man didn’t provoke him further, only asking coldly, “Are you aware that my cloak can withstand the ravages of fire?”

Albin nodded. He’d figured that out in the fire. The cloak he’d used as a “corpse bag” was quite impressive; not only was it fireproof, but it hadn’t even torn after being dragged across the ground for so long. It was high-quality, cool, and practical.

The man’s brow furrowed even deeper. “Then why did you not wear it and leave alone?”

Albin looked at him with a strange expression, failing to understand why he would ask such a thing. In fact, he thought the man was a bit of a dunce for asking.

“If I had used it, you would have been burned! If I’d just left you behind, even if you weren’t burned right away, you would’ve died from inhaling too much smoke.”

The man had been unconscious and unable to dodge, making him more vulnerable than Albin. Protecting him was the whole reason Albin had fashioned the cape into a “corpse bag” in the first place it was both easy to drag and shielded the person inside from the flames.

I’m so witty! I’m a genius!

He proudly placed one hand on his hip. But as his blistered, reddened palm touched the rough fabric of his clothes, he gasped in pain and quickly pulled his hand back.

The man stared at him deeply.

This child… is he an idiot?

Since the boy had already discovered the cloak’s utility, he should have realized that he could have simply draped it over himself and walked out of the sea of fire unscathed. Yet, the child seemed not to have considered that for even a second.

Scarlet eyes reflected the boy’s innocent expression.

“To suffer burns for this, to be detested by the gods and viewed by the masses as a curse is it worth it?”

The scriptures recorded: Whoever is burned by fire is surely sinful. In some extreme regions, fire survivors were even tied up and burned alive, under the pretense of “purifying the sinful” with flame to prevent the gods from raining down further divine punishment.

Albin listened, feeling muddled and utterly baffled. Fire safety brochures said one should be careful with open flames, but if you encountered an accidental fire or were burned by a villain, weren’t you supposed to receive help and care? Why would people here discriminate against victims and call them a “curse”?

Albin scrunched up his face. He simply couldn’t understand it. How was this any different from what parents and teachers taught?

These people are sick, right?

How could the gods lead the way in such behavior? That’s “bad kid” behavior! It’s a “bad guy” God! Shouldn’t gods protect everyone? This god sounded completely unreliable worse than the firefighter brothers and sisters.

Albin puffed out his cheeks, waved his twig angrily, and poked the man’s throat to force him to look at him. “So, you think I’m sinful, too?”

The man looked up. The boy’s annoyed expression seemed to say, “If you dare say yes, I’ll poke you!”

“No,” a storm brewed in the depths of his eyes, threatening to swallow him whole. “The truly sinful person… is me.”

Albin moved the stick forward, pressing it slightly against his throat to stop him from continuing.

“What a terrible theory. What does being burned have to do with being sinful?” Albin was furious. He covered one ear with his free hand and shouted, “I don’t believe in gods! I’m not listening, not listening!”

He glared at the man. This person really is a big dummy! So dumb he’s definitely not a bad guy.

“Burns are painful, but death is even more painful,” Albin reasoned. He was a person who had died once before; he had the right to speak! “I only got a few minor injuries, and I saved a person. Of course I’d do it! If some god hates me for that, then let them hate me! I hate them, too!”

Decided! From now on, I’m going to curse the bad-guy god once every day!

The man, sitting half-upright against the cave wall, looked up. The white-haired boy’s red eyes were as bright as flames. Looking into them, he seemed to see the resolute, unregretful image of the boy dragging him out of the divine fire.

What a pity. This child saved the wrong person. He saved a sinner who had committed the crime of God-slaying.

Suddenly, the man leaned forward. Albin, afraid he might actually poke him, hurriedly pulled the stick away, but he was grabbed by the wrists and flipped over, palms up.

Before he could struggle, a soft white light bloomed in the man’s hand, as if he were holding a tiny moon. As the man brought the “moon” toward Albin’s palm, a small white magic circle materialized between their hands. Light swirled, and starlight-like magical particles infused his injured palms.

Albin felt a cooling sensation, followed by a light itch. In a moment, the redness and swelling vanished, and the skin on his palms became as smooth and clean as before, even the soot was gone.

He tried clenching his fist; the pain was completely gone. He stared at the special effect in astonishment.

“Magic?!”

Oh, right! This is the manga world of swords and magic! But it wasn’t until this very moment, witnessing and experiencing the magic firsthand, that he truly realized it. Magic… who could ever refuse the charm of magic!

“So cool!” A surge of overwhelming joy flooded his senses. His brain began filling with scenes of magnificent and brilliant magic effects. His eyes shone, and he trembled with excitement. “Are you a mage?”

The man didn’t respond. Albin looked over, surprised, only to find the man’s expression was off.

Beneath his fallen white hair, fine beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. His face was bloodless, his brows furrowed tightly, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. It was as if his magical power was rampaging inside him, and casting this healing spell was an act of intense, agonizing endurance. His aura had shifted an icy, terrifying chill radiated from him.

“What’s wrong with you?” Albin was a bit startled and quickly stopped the man from trying to heal the burn on his leg.

The man didn’t answer. He simply closed his eyes and sank into his consciousness.

In his old consciousness space, the clear sky used to extend infinitely, and the sea of mana was as calm as a mirror, reflecting the blue sky and light clouds. But now, afflicted by the Sun God’s dying curse, it had changed.

A blood-red sun hung high, planting violent and cruel thoughts in his mind at a glance. The sky was chaotic and suffocating. The calm sea was now gloomy, deep, and surging with waves. The surface was stained blood-red by the sun, and giant beasts seemed to be prowling beneath the waves, whipping up monstrous storms.

The blood sun formed several golden chains made of divine power, piercing his consciousness and nailing him into the bottomless purple-black deep sea.

The mana that had once fought by his side and moved at his will had become turbid, corrupted into violent, restless demonic energy that tried to break through his suppression. He was pinned deeper and deeper. Beside him, the giant monster swam past.

The monster was being pushed upward by the sea of demonic energy, about to break the surface. Once it escaped, his body would fall into a state of uncontrolled monsterhood, devoid of reason and driven entirely by violent impulses.

The power that had once made him the “Strongest Human” and allowed him to protect mankind would become the power of a monster destroying the world. This was the curse given by the Sun God—the price for killing a god.

Once revered by all, he was now destined to become a hated monster, destroying his own homeland and humanity with his own hands.

Outside, Albin was frantic. The person in front of him had lost consciousness, his aura was becoming increasingly strange, and his expression was growing more painful.

What should I do? Albin’s face was full of worry. Calling out to him was useless. Seeing the man biting his lower lip until it bled, Albin couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried to get the man to let go, thinking he should stuff a stick in the man’s mouth chewing wood was better than ruining his own body. If he cut his lips, he’d have trouble eating and drinking later.

But just as he pried the man’s mouth open, before he could insert the twig, he was bitten on the index finger. The bite broke the skin, drawing blood.

Fingers are connected to the heart! Albin, who was already afraid of pain and had been injured repeatedly today, thought about how unlucky he was and burst into tears.

Perhaps it was his sobbing that awakened the man, who snapped his eyes open.

The briny taste of blood slipped into his mouth. In the space of consciousness, for some unknown reason, the golden chains shattered with a crash. Even though the blood sun formed new chains, it was enough for his consciousness to seize the split-second opening, overtake the giant monster, and return reason to his body.

He opened his eyes to see the white-haired boy glaring at him; eyes filled with tears.

Adult, bit me, bad!

Realizing what had happened, the man immediately let go.

Albin jumped back, covering his hand and keeping his distance, his eyes guarded, as if afraid of being bitten again.

Fear. The man lowered his eyes. I certainly deserve to be feared now.

“I will leave.” Seeing how afraid the boy was, the man rose to go, leaving behind a bag of coins as an apology and a reward. “I will find someone to treat your wounds as soon as possible.”

Albin didn’t know the value of the currency here, but looking at the pile of glistening gold coins, he understood it was a significant sum.

However, he looked back at the dark cave, wondering what kind of ghosts or monsters might be hiding there, and his fear returned. Even if he made it to tomorrow, he had no idea where to go.

Although the person before him seemed to be in poor health, he was at least a mage, and an adult.

He tossed the money bag back and called out to him: “I don’t want this!”

The man turned his head, asking coldly, “Then what do you want?”

“I want you to be my daddy, and take me with you!”