My Dad Is a Popular Villain in a Comic Book - Chapter 3

“No.” The man refused, hard and cold. “Being around me is dangerous.”

Albin pointed to his own hair and said with great seriousness, “I have amnesia. You were nearby when I woke up, and we both have white hair and red eyes maybe you’re my dad!”

“I don’t have amnesia.” The man continued to refuse him without mercy.

Damn it! Isn’t this guy supposed to be a “dummy”? Why is he so hard to fool right now?

Albin puffed out his cheeks, acting aggrieved. “Then let’s just pretend I’m hiring you with that bag of coins. I have a feeling someone is trying to catch me. I hope you can take me to a safe place anywhere will do.”

He muttered, “In any case, I don’t want to stay here alone.”

The man’s sharp gaze pierced toward a direction outside the cave. He could indeed sense someone watching; there was an extremely faint aura of demonic energy, likely a monster skilled in concealment. Although he couldn’t use magic due to the mutation of his power, his physical senses remained top-tier, and his perception of demonic energy was as sharp as ever.

That aura wasn’t there before. Was it attracted by the demonic energy I leaked, or is it after the child?

His hand, hanging at his side, snapped a stone off the cave wall as if it were tofu. With a flick of his fingertips, he sent it flying before turning his gaze back. The white-haired boy, full of suspicious points, was clearly engulfed in genuine terror he wasn’t faking it.

“I understand.” He nodded to Albin, his stern face showing gravity and sincerity. “I will take you to a safe place, but I will not be your father.”

“Fine.” Albin nodded. At least I can leave this place.

He breathed a slight sigh of relief. “My name is Albin. What’s yours? I wanted to wake you up earlier but didn’t know your name. Also, what exactly happened to you just now?”

“I am Zeman. Just now… it was a recurring illness.” The man’s eyes were dark and unreadable as he slowly spat out the words.

Zeman?

Albin immediately realized this was the “peerless beauty” character that the Siren sister loved. No wonder he had the same white hair and red eyes. After this period of getting to know him, Albin summarized his thoughts: So, the character the Siren sister likes is a frail, dummy beauty.

Albin yawned. “We can talk about the rest tomorrow. I’m so sleepy; I’m going to bed.” After a busy night of emotional ups and downs, Albin was exhausted and lethargic.

He lay down beside Zeman, reached out to tug at Zeman’s sleeve, and stared at him intently. He insisted, “You aren’t allowed to leave me behind!”

Only after seeing Zeman nod did, he feel at ease.

“Goodnight, Mr. Zeman.”

When he didn’t get a reply after a long moment, Albin, his red eyes hazy with sleepiness, asked with dissatisfaction, “Why didn’t you say goodnight to me?” His brother used to say it every night.

Zeman was stunned. In the past, while in the Temple of the Sun, people only said “Good day” and never “Good night.” On this continent, where gods existed, such greetings carried the implication of greeting the Sun God or Night God. Since the Sun God and the [God of Night and Death] had always had a poor relationship, this custom had never existed.

But watched by those persistent red eyes, his voice, cold as a mountain stream, finally sounded:

“Goodnight.”

Albin smiled with satisfaction and drifted off to sleep, as if under a sleeping spell. Having an adult by his side meant he didn’t have to face the darkness and the unknown alone, and for the first time, he felt a flicker of security. Even the hard ground couldn’t stop him from falling into a deep slumber.

Once the boy was asleep, Zeman stepped out of the cave alone. He walked to the spot where he had thrown the stone and found a dead mouse. The mouse’s bean-sized eyes were marked with a black cross. It was the mark of a monster. This wasn’t an ordinary mouse, but a low-level monster the kind that didn’t usually inhabit the forest.

It was clearly sent to scout.

Is it after the child?

Only a mid-level monster with a certain degree of intelligence would be this cautious. Why would a mid-level monster be targeting an ordinary child?

Zeman pondered, his lips pursed. He was reminded of the bloody taste on his lower lip right after he had bitten Albin’s finger, the curse chains in his consciousness had briefly vanished. Could there be a connection?

When Albin woke up in a haze, something felt wrong. Opening his eyes, he was met with a clean jawline, and then he saw his own throat, which had been pricked with tiny red marks.

Turning his head, he saw the scenery slowly passing by through the veil-like curtain of long white hair. He was being carried horizontally in Zeman’s arms as he traveled. The large, thick cloak was wrapped around him like a swaddle now he was the one being transported in the “corpse bag.”

Albin rubbed his face, waking up completely. He noticed that the soot on his body had been cleaned away, and his face was no longer dirty.

Noticing he was awake, Zeman’s calm voice explained, “We have left the outskirts of Thorn City.”

Albin nodded blankly. He realized Zeman had been carrying him for who knows how long, putting miles between them and the dangerous forest where he might have run into the “human trash.”

He didn’t lie to me. He didn’t ditch me.

The anxiety and apprehension that had clung to his heart before sleep were blown away by the wind. Hearing the steady, powerful heartbeat by his ear, his head resting on the warm body, and his body swaying gently like he was in a cradle, the panic he’d felt since transmigrating was slowly soothed.

Even though this world is dangerous, it’s so good to meet such a reliable adult!

Albin had once heard that when he was a baby, he had been abandoned in a field and almost died; it was his brother, passing by on his way home from school, who heard him crying, saved him, and adopted him. He didn’t remember the memory from when he was that small, but he still held onto the feeling of being held tightly in the midst of terror. This felt very similar.

“Thank you!” He wrapped his arms around Zeman’s neck, a relaxed, joyful smile returning to his face.

Facing this enthusiastic, radiant smile, Zeman’s body stiffened slightly. His fingertips twitched, but in the end, he only gave a slight nod. However, the icy aura that usually radiated from him seemed to soften just a fraction.

Zeman continued forward, and Albin rested in his arms, wide-eyed and curious as he scanned the surroundings. He wanted to get down and walk, but Zeman said disapprovingly, “You are still injured.”

Fair enough.

Albin stopped pestering him and asked curiously, “What safe place are you taking me to?”

“The Kingdom of Roses.”

Hearing the name, Albin felt like he was in a fairy tale and laughed. “Eh, what a strange name.” It sounds so slapped-together.

Zeman: “It was named by the gods. All countries are named after plants.”

Albin thought it was a manga world, so maybe it wasn’t that strange perhaps the author couldn’t come up with better names. He continued to ask, “How are we going to get there?”

We can’t walk the whole way, can we?

Zeman: “Once we reach the border village of the Bindweed Kingdom, we will find a merchant caravan and take a horse carriage.”

A horse carriage! Albin looked forward to it. Traveling by carriage… that has a real ‘different world’ vibe!

Carrying this expectation, Albin continued to admire the scenery. But it wasn’t particularly unique mostly desolate and he soon grew bored. Besides the scenery, Zeman’s snow-white hair kept swaying in front of his eyes.

Albin couldn’t resist pinching a strand of hair and holding his breath to peek at Zeman’s reaction. He doesn’t seem to have noticed.

Ehehe!

He grew bolder, using the strand of hair to compare colors with his own, then winding it around his fingers.

Zeman was certainly aware of the child’s small movements. But having read many books, learned many spells, and faced countless monsters, he had never learned how to deal with a child. Perhaps because of his status, or perhaps because he lacked warmth, no child had ever dared to act so brazenly in front of him. He was like the solemn, cold statues of swords and shields in the temple; children of nobles and worshippers alike only looked at him with awe.

Not knowing how to react, Zeman could only pretend he didn’t see. His indulgence only made Albin bolder, and he even began to study how to braid hair.

Albin had never braided hair before, having only seen the girls in his class do it, but he set to work with enthusiasm.

It wasn’t until a cold voice sounded: “We have arrived.”

He came to his senses, hurriedly undoing the crooked, messy braid he had created, and blinked with an innocent, obedient expression.

Zeman pulled the cloak covering Albin tighter, shielding the ankle burns that would have invited gossip. When they appeared at the village entrance, the sudden visit by strangers drew wary stares. The village chief soon hurried over, asking sternly.

“Who are you?”

“Our carriage fell off a cliff nearby, and we are looking for a caravan to take us to town.” Zeman masked the excessive calmness in his eyes.

The village chief looked at their tattered clothes, noting the high quality of Zeman’s fabric, and then their similar hair and eye colors.

“Are you… father and son?”

Zeman looked only about twenty-four, and Albin looked seven or eight, but in this world, sixteen was adulthood, so it was no surprise the chief guessed that.

Albin shot Zeman a smug look. See? I told you we look like father and son.

Zeman’s eyes flickered, and a short, clipped sound came from his throat.

“Yes.”

Albin grinned and buried his face in Zeman’s chest.

I really wish this person could be my daddy.

Faced with the unfortunate “father and son,” the chief’s tone softened. “A merchant will be coming through in three days. You can go with him to find a suitable caravan in town.”

Zeman pondered for a moment, then paid to rent a hunting cabin outside the village and purchased several days’ worth of supplies and clothing from the chief. He was generous, and mindful of the villagers’ xenophobia, he didn’t ask to stay in the village. The chief agreed readily and promised to notify them when the merchant arrived.

The hunting cabin was square, and instead of a bed, the floor was covered with a thick layer of freshly cut golden wheat straw.

Albin had never slept on such a thing and was immensely curious. Being at an age of boundless curiosity, once the initial panic faded, he found everything in this strange world fascinating. Hearing that they would be sleeping here, he was delighted and immediately lay down on the golden blanket, rolling around to experience it.

Sunlight streamed through the window of the log cabin, falling onto a messy, fluffy head of short white hair, dyeing the creamy, hooked tips brilliantly. The sun-warmed straw was soft, didn’t prickle as he’d imagined, and smelled clean and fresh.

Compared to the bed from yesterday, this is simply amazing!

A very satisfied Albin climbed out of the straw. Bathed in sunlight, his body radiated golden light—these were just straw crumbs. He had to shake his head and body like a puppy to shed them.

A few strands of “golden highlights” were tangled in his white hair. A large hand reached out to help him pat his fluffy head, and he immediately quieted down. But as he looked at Zeman, a crafty light sparked in his eyes.

Ehehe, tomorrow morning Zeman will be covered in crumbs just like me! Albin looked forward to seeing the cold, aloof Zeman look troubled.

However, once Zeman finished cleaning him, he laid down a cloth he had prepared beforehand over the straw, successfully avoiding any crumbs.

“Cheat!” Albin grumbled.

After tidying up the room and changing into new clothes, Zeman went to the nearby stream to fetch water. Thinking of the monsters from last night, he didn’t feel safe leaving Albin alone, so he took him along.

Walking down the path to the stream, Zeman was lost in thought. If his hypothesis from yesterday was correct, the monsters would not give up; after scouting, they would surely take action. Although he didn’t possess the power of prophecy like the priests of the [God of Love and Fate], he had a premonition born from a wealth of experience.

By the stream, Albin sat on the grass, excitedly leaning forward to observe his new appearance in the water’s reflection. Besides the hair and eye color, I haven’t changed much. He pinched his cheeks and felt he was a bit thinner than in his previous life.

“I’ll help fetch water!” he turned and volunteered.

But Zeman wasn’t fetching water. His dark, scarlet eyes narrowed slightly, his expression cold and sharp. “The wind has picked up.”

A breeze blew against them, ruffling Zeman’s snow-white hair. The divine golden sunlight acted like a gauzy cage, shrouding him completely, while a single long shadow stretched out behind him.

Zeman looked toward the forest on the opposite side of the stream, where several wisps of demonic energy were rushing toward them. The sunlight failed to illuminate the dense forest; the deeper it went, the darker it became, and out of the shadows emerged swarms of black silhouettes, pairs of strange beastly eyes lighting up.

Each shadow was wrapped in turbid demonic energy, and their vicious beast eyes bore the black cross-star pattern exclusive to monsters.

As the monsters approached, even Albin felt a bone-chilling cold. A sudden gust of wind blew, blinding Albin, and he quickly closed his eyes.

Zeman glanced at the child sitting on the grass, unaware of the danger, and knelt on one knee, reaching out to press him into his arms.

“Mr. Zeman?”

The boy buried in his arms asked blankly. With his vision blocked, he didn’t see the black cross patterns appearing in Zeman’s half-closed eyes.

In the forest, many monsters gathered, staring fixedly at the little white-haired back, gnashing their teeth, ready to spring. A wolf-like, agile monster leaped into the air, diving down, while the others followed suit.

But just then, they were shocked to see the man holding their prey suddenly sprout a pair of wings!

It was a pair of sharp, jagged white dragon wings. With just a slight flutter, the massive wings unleashed a tsunami-like wave of demonic energy, suppressing them all instantly. In a single breath, they were pinned to the ground, unable to move. The low-level monsters had their bones crushed and went silent, while the other mid-level monsters were severely injured.

The demonic energy shrouding the forest was still surging, and all the monsters were engulfed by such terrifying power, filled with dread. This was no skill or magic; it was the sheer power of the demonic energy itself.

Fear rolled in their hearts, and the wolf monster, possessing a shred of human intelligence, stared dead-eyed at that figure.

Who is that? A human? Or a high-level monster?

Those star-patterned red eyes, like ice frozen from blood, cast a cold, sharp warning.

—Get out!

As soon as the demonic aura pressure was withdrawn, the monsters, dominated by fear, scattered and fled, vanishing without a trace.

Albin, who had been targeted, remained oblivious to the scene behind him. He only felt a sudden, frantic wind. The wind itself wasn’t worth noting, but he was worried about Zeman’s state. Having heard Zeman’s violent heartbeat while buried in his chest, Albin waited until Zeman’s grip loosened slightly before looking up.

Zeman had that painful expression again his old illness had flared up.

“Mr. Zeman!”

Zeman forced the out-of-control demonic energy back down. He would not let the Sun God’s curse turn him into a mindless monster. Since last night, he had been trying to suppress and control this curse with his own will. If magic was no longer usable, if it could not be reversed, then he would simply use the demonic energy directly. He never cared about the form of his power, so long as he could wield it.

Subduing the emotions brought on by the demonic transformation, the demonic patterns in his eyes faded. Zeman opened his eyes to find those pigeon-blood red eyes filled with tears, looking at him with deep anxiety, his face pale with fright.

“Mr. Zeman… are you alright?”

Albin hadn’t realized what he’d said before; he was just worried. “Is there any medicine that can treat it? Or magic?” This world has magic now, so how can there be an incurable disease?

“I’m fine,” Zeman swallowed the briny sweetness in his throat. “It will get better slowly.”

Albin’s eyes expressed “Liar.”

He asked, “Mr. Zeman, can I learn magic? I will work very hard!”

Zeman paused and said slowly, “Magical talent can only be detected through the testing crystals of the major temples. Children with talent are taken into the temples to learn corresponding magic, and are later trained to become divine officials or warriors.”

It seems it can’t be tested for the time being. Albin drooped his head. But he was still deeply worried about Zeman’s condition and feared that if he wasn’t careful, Zeman might collapse somewhere, so he followed him like a shadow from then on.

Nighttime.

Albin fell into a deep sleep on the wheat straw. Zeman, sleeping beside him, opened his eyes abruptly and rose to walk outside.

He sensed demonic energy.

Only a single aura, and it wasn’t the type that skulked in the shadows. It was as if it were announcing its own arrival. He stepped out into the moonlight, closing the door behind him, and threw a chilly gaze toward the uninvited guest.

A green snake, only as thick as a finger, slithered forward. When it reached Zeman, it coiled its small, exquisite body and politely bowed to greet him.

【Hello, my companion. 】

Zeman’s eyes narrowed slightly. He could actually understand the words of this monster something that had never happened before. Is it because of the curse?

“Companion? Do you have any idea how many monsters I have killed?”

【I have naturally heard of your reputation, Master Zeman. 】 【You are the Saint of the Sun Temple, the guaranteed next Pope. In the Great War six years ago, you wiped out 50,000 monsters alone. You once pierced through the Abyss, venturing deep inside to slay the then-King of Monsters, leaving my Demon Race leaderless for six years, scattered like loose sand. 】 【But those things were done by the human Zeman. Seeing your form today, I believe without a doubt that you are our new companion, and therefore, there is no need for meaningless slaughter. I will answer your questions and invite you to join us. 】

Zeman asked coldly, “Why attack that child?”

【Because that child is medicine. The flesh and blood of that human child can alleviate the gods’ curse and help us regain our reason from the state of uncontrollable madness. 】

Zeman’s pupils contracted.

“…The gods’ curse?”

【Yes. I assume you, too, have become a monster because of the gods’ curse. 】

The green snake raised its head, its green bean-sized eyes marked with black cross stars looking at him. Zeman was cold as frost, but he was more concerned with the hidden implications of its words.

“You mean to say, all monsters are humans cursed by the gods?”

【Yes. Our ancestors were also human. We are the descendants of those who were demonized; we learned the truth from inherited memories. The curse’s effect remains in us, so we cannot inform humans of the truth by any means. 】

It flicked its forked tongue and said firmly: 【We should also be human! It was the gods who forcibly turned us into this shape! We intended to coexist peacefully with humans, but the gods’ curse makes us lose control and attack indiscriminately, which is why humans hate us. 】 【This is the malice of the Gods.】

“Why should I believe you?”

One of the duties of the Temple was to protect humanity and eliminate monsters. Yet this beast claimed the gods were deliberately dividing humanity and having monsters attack them? Zeman frowned, thinking of the curse the Sun God had placed upon him. Such a god was certainly capable of such things.

【Because you are a companion, a monster like us. You will eventually experience the same things we have and harbor the same feelings. 】

Zeman retorted coldly, “I am human.”

He did not fully believe the monster’s words. The green snake shook its head.

【You are a monster a monster cursed by the gods and stripped of your human identity. Sooner or later, you, too, will attack humans like a monster. 】

“Is this the reason you want to eat Albin?”

【No, that child is special; we will not eat him. 】 The green snake hurriedly explained: 【On the contrary, we will definitely keep him alive. Just some blood will do. Humans use bloodletting therapy, don’t they? It is said that in human fantasy works, there exists a creature called a vampire; these creatures feed on blood and keep blood slaves. We will take good care of him, protect him, and let him become the Demon Race’s blood slave a soothing medicine for the curse. 】 【That child is the only hope the Demon Race has been given by the gods. Once you have tasted that child’s blood, you will surely understand everything. 】

“Hope given by the gods…” Zeman sneered. “Fallen to such a state, do you still believe in such things?”

The green snake lowered its head.

【But we only wish to live with our reason, to end this cycle of tragedy don’t you feel the same way? Once your power spirals out of control, it will be even more terrifying than the former King of Monsters. No human can withstand your assault; perhaps the entire continent will be scorched to ash because of it. 】

Zeman’s body was roiling with demonic energy, and his star-patterned blood-red pupils were deep and gloomy. The image of that child flashed in his mind.

A medicine that keeps me rational and prevents me from becoming a monster…