Everyone was doing great like Christopher Nolan.
The master, the Nano Bites, the prisoners, the aliens, even that mohawk merchant who looked like he lost a bet with Satan.
And if they were all winning… then obviously, I had to win too.
Because what kind of king lets his subordinates carry the plot while he stands around like moral support with abs?
I turned my focus back to Malthus — my favorite cosmic hemorrhoid.
He'd thrown a damn sun at me.
And I'd turned it off like a lightbulb.
Now that's progress.
Honestly, I was stronger than I was during my "Hero King" era. Back then I was a glorified motivational speaker with a sword.
Now?
Now I was a divine pest control who eats pests to get rid of them.
[ That's because I'm running the show now. You don't have useless skills anymore. And I'm the one activating them. You'd probably use Fireball to light a cigarette without me. ]
'You're a narcissist.'
