That night, a young man was seen stepping down from the bus stop with a slightly staggering gait.
His breath was uneven, his face flushed. He stared at the signboard that read Dozen Bus Stop for quite a while before finally walking toward the small road ahead.
"Damn it… I failed to get into the university again," he muttered in frustration while ruffling his hair. The beer can in his hand shook, spilling part of its contents. He gulped down the rest without a second thought.
His steps carried him toward the old residential area of Dozen Village, a place that felt strangely outdated even though it was part of Henzo City, the center of modernization in the nation of Bashee.
The streetlights there were dim, and the sound of night insects echoed more loudly than usual.
"Twenty-one years old, and just a high school graduate… am I going to work at a convenience store forever?" he complained, tossing the empty can toward a large tree by the roadside.
Around the tree trunk was a red rope tied in a loop.
"Hm?" He squinted, noticing something beneath the tree. "A small statue?" he muttered, stepping closer. He picked it up, examining the small stone carved in the shape of a human figure wrapped in a white cloth. Words were inscribed along the surface of the stone.
"Bow to God, and you will be spared from Calamity," he read aloud, then gave a short laugh. "Hahaha… it's already a modern age, and people still believe in this mystical nonsense?" he said mockingly before tossing the statue away carelessly.
He let out a sigh, then unzipped his pants. "Brrr… ahh, that feels good!" he said in satisfaction, until he looked down and cursed, "Damn it, my pee splashed on my shoes!" He plucked a few leaves from the tree and wiped his shoes haphazardly.
Suddenly, a red mist appeared around him, thick and pulsating as if alive. "What is this?" He rubbed his eyes several times, but the mist refused to fade.
From within the mist, a figure slowly emerged, a man with long black hair neatly tied back. He wore ancient silk robes that clung to his body, and two swords hung at his right hip. His face was handsome, but his eyes and expression blazed with anger.
"You insolent brat! How dare you!" the man shouted. His voice echoed loudly, making the young man fall to the ground while covering his ears.
"Hey, filthy boy! You've made me furious! How dare you defile my place with your ugly little bird!"
"W-what? I-is this real? I must be drunk, right? It has to be a hallucination…" the young man muttered, trembling. He pinched his cheek. "Ow! It hurts?! This isn't a dream?"
"Stand up!" ordered the man.
The young man immediately straightened his hands at his sides, his face pale. "F-forgive me, I'm sorry! I didn't know this was your place, Mister Ghost!"
"I'm not a ghost, you bastard! You've really pissed me off!" The man glared sharply, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. "As punishment, I'll cut off your filthy little bird!"
Reflexively, the young man covered his lower body. "S-so you're not a ghost? F-forgive me, sir! PFFT… HAHA, but seriously, you live in this tree? And your clothes are so tacky!" He immediately covered his mouth. "S-sorry," he said, lowering his head.
The man's face hardened. "You still dare to mock me? Your own clothes look strange, you bastard!"
The red mist thickened again, covering the young man's entire body. The man's voice grew closer, colder, and sharper. "I won't kill you, but I'll give you a wound that will never heal." He grinned. "Goodbye, man without a bird. Your future is over."
"N-nooo!" screamed the young man. His vision spun, the red mist grew denser, and the world around him slowly vanished into darkness.
Night turned into morning, blanketing Dozen Village with damp air and dew still clinging to the tips of the leaves.
An old man walked slowly along the village path, supporting his body with a wooden cane. It was his daily routine, taking a relaxed morning walk while enjoying the peace of a still-sleeping village.
But that morning, his gaze stopped at something at the end of the road. Near the large tree considered sacred by the villagers of Dozen, a young man lay on his side, face disheveled, and clothes crumpled. The old man frowned, then walked closer. Disbelief in his eyes.
With the tip of his cane, he poked the young man's cheek lightly. "Hey Max, wake up."
The young man stirred and suddenly woke up with a startled cry. "Arrghh, n-no!" He looked around in panic, then turned to the old man. "Ah, Grandpa Brook, you scared me," he said, standing up and brushing off his dirty pants.
Grandpa Brook snorted. "What were you doing sleeping here, you foolish boy."
"I-I came home drunk last night, Grandpa Brook. I must've passed out here. Anyway, I'll be going now, Grandpa," Max said quickly, bowing slightly and walking toward his house.
Grandpa Brook only watched Max's back as he staggered away. When Max stopped briefly, bent down, and appeared to peek into his pants before walking again, the old man shook his head in confusion. "Weird kid," he muttered.
He continued walking but noticed something on the ground, the small stone statue lying beneath the tree. He quickly picked it up and placed it back where it belonged.
"Damn it, why does it smell like piss here," he grumbled, covering his nose as he walked away.
BRAK...
Max slammed the door shut. He took off his shoes and walked toward the towel hanging on the rack. "Hah, thank God, turns out last night was just a dream," he said in relief.
"A dream, huh?" a voice suddenly came from his right.
Max turned and jumped in shock. "Arrghh, M-Mister Ghost!" he shouted before quickly covering his mouth.
"I told you, I'm not a ghost, you filthy brat. I am the Demonic Emperor, Zakuma," the voice said, firm and commanding.
"Z-Zakuma? D-Demonic Emperor?" Max's eyes widened.
The long-haired man nodded with an arrogant look on his face. "So, you're the one…" he said, but before he could finish, Max interrupted.
"What's that?"
Zakuma's expression stiffened, his irritation rising. "Have you never studied history, boy? Kneel!"
"I-I'm not interested in history," Max replied softly while obeying, kneeling on the floor.
"What's your name?" Zakuma asked, folding his arms across his chest.
"M-my name's Max," he said, lowering his head.
"Max, huh? Nice name. But look at you.
Sunken face, skinny body, and messy hair. Even a pig looks better than you," Zakuma said sharply.
"Damn, his words hurt," Max grumbled inwardly.
He lifted his head, forcing composure. "Then, what exactly are you, Lord Zakuma? You said you're not a ghost, but you appeared from that red mist yesterday. What was that?"
Zakuma let out a long sigh.
"I told you, I am the Demonic Emperor. I was meditating to achieve immortality, separating my soul from my body. When I was about to reach the Absolute Being realm and return to my body, it had disappeared. I was trapped as a spirit, then I felt an overwhelming drowsiness. When I awoke, I saw you… peeing on my meditation spot."
Max stared blankly for a few seconds, then burst into laughter. "Pfftt hahahahaha, what are you even talking about? Absolute Being? Meditation? Immortality? Are you delirious?"
The red mist suddenly filled the room again. Max froze in place. From within the mist, several of Zakuma's heads appeared, encircling him with glowing red eyes.
"You can still laugh? Have you checked your bird? Still intact, right? I spared you for now. I giving you mission! Find my body! But if you don't find it, I'll cut it off without mercy."
Max's face turned pale. "F-forgive me, Lord Zakuma. I'm just an ordinary human. I don't have any talent. I failed to enter university. I have no future," he said quietly, his fists tightening in his pockets.
The mist slowly faded, leaving Zakuma standing before him with a displeased look. "Haahhh… how could I meet someone this useless? If I rely on you, even until the end of the world, I'll never find my body."
Max lowered his head again, not from fear this time, but from frustration. "Even ghosts look down on me," he muttered.
Zakuma exhaled deeply. "Stand up. By the way, what is this 'university'? And what is that thing?" he asked, pointing at the old tube TV in the corner of the room.
Max looked up, squinting at him. "Seriously, what era are you from? That's a tube TV. You can watch news or shows on it. And university is a place where people study to earn higher degrees."
"Oh, so university is a place to learn and rise in rank, and that TV shows entertainment? Hmm, perhaps I lived during the Zin Dynasty, when my sect was the strongest, and I was its leader," Zakuma said, stepping closer to the TV with curiosity.
Max turned it on, then grabbed his phone and searched for information about the Zin Dynasty. After a few scrolls, his eyes widened. The Zin Dynasty existed two thousand years ago. He glanced back at Zakuma, who was now mesmerized by the flickering screen, eyes wide and unblinking.
"Ah, damn it, I met a boomer ghost. My life's over. Failed college, and now haunted by a boomer," he thought bitterly.
"L-Lord Zakuma, so how do we find your body?" he asked hesitantly.
Zakuma looked aside. "In my time, there was an ancient artifact used to locate objects. Perhaps it could help me find my body."
"His body's probably dust by now, and he's talking about some ancient artifact? Even the name says it's older than him. What a stupid boomer," Max thought, annoyed.
He forced a smile. "But how do we find that artifact, Lord Zakuma? The Zin Dynasty was two thousand years ago."
Zakuma's eyes widened. "Two thousand years ago? Damn it. Isn't there any artifact storage in this era? Back in my time, there were such places. If one exists, I can sense the artifact I'm looking for."
"Artifact storage? He thinks the world hasn't changed," Max grumbled inwardly. But suddenly, something crossed his mind. His face turned serious. "I might know one place that stores artifacts. But I want you to promise me something."
Zakuma looked curious. "You know the place? Very well, let's go there. Promise? What promise?"
"Promise… don't cut my bird off after I take you there…"