They all call me Great Master

Boom!

It was as if a thunderclap had exploded in Little Lisop's mind.

He sat there, stunned, completely at a loss.

And the old butler, still with the dagger embedded in his chest, looked at Lisop with eyes full of pleading.

"Pl... Please..."

"You have the nerve to ask me for anything?

Do you know why I chose to enlist in the army?

Do you know what sustained me through battle after battle, certain to die?

The family!

I wanted to build a family that future generations could be proud of!"

Lisop cut off the old butler's words, his voice involuntarily rising, and by the end, he pointed at the old butler and shouted.

"But because of you!

You worthless piece of trash!

You destroyed everything!

Just when I was striving to further the Lisop Family, you and that whore Jenny had the audacity to get together!

Hah, do you know?

Before I strangled her to death, she begged me to spare you and this bastard!"

With that, Lisop turned his gaze to Little Lisop across from him and swung a punch at his face.

Bang!

The punch was heavy.

It landed squarely on the chin.

Little Lisop seated there was lifted from his seat, his head striking the carriage above.

"Looking at that face makes me sick!

But for the sake of revenge, I endured it for twenty years!

Do you know what these twenty years have been like for me?

Every day, I told myself to be patient! To restrain myself! Not to show anything out of place!"

Lisop spat a mouthful of thick phlegm right onto Little Lisop's face.

Afterward, the Lord looked at his butler again.

"I was patient! I restrained myself!

Even for this, I gave up the life I had planned, became conservative—as everyone thought I had become content after acquiring the land, finding iron and coal mines, no longer ambitious!

But only I knew what I wanted to do!

Revenge!

To have my revenge on you, and that whore Jenny!

I wanted you to suffer the most painful death—I wanted your son to kill you with his own hands!

Only this way, could I be rid of this hatred haunting my heart!"

Lisop's face twisted to the extreme, his words filled with ice-cold malice.

The old butler could only beg.

He didn't even have the strength to speak.

He could only look at Lisop.

Then, a smugness suddenly crept into Lisop's voice.

"Don't worry, I won't let this little bastard off, I will have my son personally rid of him!"

Lisop elongated his tone.

The old butler suddenly seemed to grasp some realization, becoming agitated all at once.

Watching this, Lisop laughed again.

"Haha, yes!

Exactly as you're thinking!

Your so-called son, is my son—my son from raping your wife, my son!

I will have my son, chop up your son piece by piece!"

Lisop bent down to the old butler, saying each word deliberately.

The old butler reached out and clutched at Lisop's collar.

But it was useless.

The robust Lisop quickly shrugged off the grip, and even grabbed the old butler's hand in return.

"Take a good look at your son!

In a little while, he's going to be chopped to pieces!"

Lisop whispered into the old butler's ear.

The old butler struggled to lift his hand, seemingly trying to push Little Lisop out of the carriage, urging his son to flee for his life, but his hand only lifted halfway before falling heavily.

The old butler breathed no more.

Lisop released the old butler's body somewhat reluctantly.

So many years!

He had waited so many years!

This retribution is nowhere near enough!

Everything is just beginning!

Lisop glared at that bastard and punched him viciously again, knocking him unconscious before jumping off the now-stopped carriage—Lisop hadn't bothered with any disguise, so of course, the coachman had overheard plenty of secrets.

This was something Lisop simply could not allow.

It pertained to his plans for the future!

Did they really think two-tenths of his iron and coal mine's profits were so easy to take?

He would surely give that 'Spirit Medium' quite the shock!

Therefore, he could not allow anyone to detect even a hint of what was to come!

And this ensured the coachman's death.

Even as the frantic coachman ran for his life with all his might, he was quickly overtaken by the nimble Lisop.

Then, amidst pleas for mercy, the coachman had his neck twisted and broken by Lisop.

Carrying the body back, Lisop surveyed the surroundings to ensure no one had seen, then he tossed the corpse into the carriage and took the coachman's seat himself, driving towards South Town.

And all the while, the Lord remained completely unaware that atop a branch, there blended into the night, sat a Crow.

...

When Little Lisop woke from his faint, he found himself in a cellar.

He was first stunned, then began trembling uncontrollably.

He remembered everything that had just happened.

Lisop was only his father in name.

Raising him had been nothing but a scheme to use him for revenge against his biological father.

Butler Hill was his real father.

And he had killed his own father.

"No!

This isn't real!

It's fake!

All of it is fake!"

Little Lisop howled in anguish, the once well-dressed young man now banging his head against the ground, utterly unable to accept reality.

Watching all this from the shadows, Lisop let out a laugh.

"Yes! That's right! That's right!"

"Feel the pain!

Savor the pain!"

Lisop emerged from a corner.

How could he possibly leave this mongrel alone in the cellar? If he committed suicide, all his efforts would have been in vain.

He had just wanted to appreciate the look on the other's face a bit longer.

And now?

Iron chains and shackles appeared in the hands of the nobleman.

"Father..."

Bang!

Before Little Lisop could even speak, he was kicked hard in the stomach by Lisop.

"Shut your mouth, you bastard! If you dare insult me with that word again, I'll rip out your tongue!"

Lisop shackled the mongrel before him, and then, as if tethering a dog, he tied the boy to a stake he'd prepared in the cellar—secured there, he couldn't bang his head against the walls.

As for biting his tongue to commit suicide? A dirty rag sufficed to gag him.

"Just wait!

The most thrilling part meant for you is about to start!"

Looking at Little Lisop tied there, the nobleman sneered and then turned to leave.

Step, step, step!

The sound of footsteps faded, leaving the tightly bound Little Lisop consumed by resentment, confusion, pain, and terror.

Negative emotions tangled in the depths of the young man's heart.

In the end...

Ashen despair.

Perhaps, for him, death would be a release.

The young man finally gave up struggling and slumped there, defeated.

But at that moment, a mysterious hand suddenly appeared over the young man's head.

The warmth of the palm sent a shiver through him.

Then, a voice of sorrow yet gentleness rose—

"Are you certain?"