"Brother Tian, what're you doing?" Shasha popped up behind me. She must've used wind magic's levitation spell. Normally, I'd sense her with my instincts, but I was too focused to notice when she slipped in.
"Something up?" I asked, dodging her question.
"Can't I just come see you for no reason?" Shasha said, pretending to be mad.
"You know what happens when a girl sneaks into a guy's room alone?" I grabbed her slender waist, gently caressing her flat, flawless stomach.
"I don't know—oh, stop tickling! Tian, if you keep teasing, I'll lose it today!" Shasha's eyes were dreamy, her breath soft, her flushed face adorable. I couldn't resist and kissed her hard. "Oh, Brother Tian!" I snapped out of it. If I didn't stop, we'd get nothing done today. I sent a cool stream of true energy into her to douse her fire. "Brother, when we're married, you can have me whenever you want," she said. Damn, this girl's trouble—my barely calmed desire nearly flared up again.
"Got it," I said, giving her perky butt a pat. "Brother!" Shasha pouted, snuggling into my arms. Over the past ten days, our relationship had skyrocketed. "My little darling, spill it—what's up?" I kissed her red lips lightly.
"Brother, ever thought about the future?"
"Of course—beat the demons, unify the Saint Demon Continent, make life easier for you all," I said.
"Ever think there's a flaw in your plan?"
"What flaw?" I asked, puzzled.
"Why not unify the continent first, then fight the demons? If we beat the demons and humans start fighting again, won't that hurt more people?"
I hadn't considered that. With my strength, demons or humans first didn't matter much. "But you know my army and I are outsiders," I said. Over these days, her sharp female intuition had figured out we weren't from this continent. I liked her, so I didn't hide my goal here.
"So what? You look like us, speak like us, and you're human. Plus, you've got billions of humans behind you—terrifying to think about. Without your help, we'd be extinct soon. You wouldn't let that happen. Isn't your goal to spare your homeland's people from war by building a paradise here? If you don't unify this place first, conflicts will flare up. Is that your paradise?"
"Shasha, thank you. You've got a knack for speeches," I said. Strength isn't everything—strategy and human nature matter too. "Your arrival isn't a clash of civilizations but a fusion of cultures. These days, I've read your Chinese books and felt their depth, like a mother embracing her naughty kids while gently teaching. It's beautiful. I love your poetry—it captures love so vividly in just a few lines. So, I've decided: we'll hold a meeting to found a nation, with you as king."
I wanted to cry. A girl new to Chinese culture grasped its essence, while I could barely recall a few poems, and I call myself China's future genius?
"Seems a bit off. We should take it slow," I said, worried. A guy here for just days, seen as a savage, becoming king? They'd never agree.
"No worries. This is like your Middle Ages—might makes right. Plus, the city's people support you. Didn't you win them over with your 'peaceful evolution'?" She even knew that? She'd read Five Thousand Years of World History and Five Thousand Years of Chinese History. No wonder she'd vanish sometimes. A wife like this—what more could I want?
A nation-founding plan was settled in our embrace. The meeting set the founding for three days later. At the meeting, Finland Lei glared at me like I was a pervert who'd seduced their pure, lovely princess. His eyes burned brighter than a 60-watt bulb, trying to zap me. No chance, old man.
Three days later, Wudu was festive. For defense, I brought ten thousand more troops from Earth. Nation: Sun Empire. Emperor: Makino Feitian. Prime Minister: Finland Lei. Seven ministries: Technology, Agriculture, Industry, Transportation, Military, Rites, and Household. Current population: eight million, two million able-bodied. Armies: Yellow Dragon, White Dragon, Black Dragon, Azure Dragon, each with forty thousand elite soldiers. Legion commanders: Makino Long, Makino Hu, Makino Bao, Makino Lang. Oula led the Imperial Guard. Ranks followed Earth's system, adding "Senior Colonel," with three tiers per rank (e.g., one-star Major General). Short-term goal: reclaim the Saint Demon Empire's lands.
First, we increased scouting of demon movements and bolstered homeland defense, especially in the Beast Forest, setting up teleportation arrays at key points for rapid troop movement. Then, legions launched intense training, aiming for all Earth soldiers to master one mid-level magic type. This wasn't random—our first battle with the demons cost six hundred lives, even with defensive gear. Bombs were useless against high-level demons, but smuggled Russian missiles worked. We held the demons at Dragon Pass, the only channel between East and West Continents, with Yellow and Azure Dragons stationed there. It's a stalemate—they've got numbers, we don't. So, I pushed for mid-level magic training to enable magic defense, slashing casualty rates.
We're also waiting, planning to "relieve Zhao by besieging Wei." Once Cohen builds the space battleship, we'll hit the demons' homeland with missiles. They're smart—early on, they rushed together and got blasted by missiles. Now, they send elites forward to block charges and spread out to reduce casualties.
At first, I didn't know what their forehead horns were for. Turns out, they gather energy. Imagine a crowd with colorful horns glowing red and blue—wild sight. My thought? Damn, that chick's got a killer body, ruined by a horn. One rat turd spoils the soup. I still feel bad for those demon hotties. Pick a better reincarnation next time.
"We need a solid plan. We can't keep facing off like this. They don't care about losses, but we do," I said at a military meeting in the frontline command.
This war's getting uncomfortable—not casualties, but it's like scratching an itch for the demons. Pointless. Mech warriors hit hard, but their magic defense, especially against lightning, sucks. Demons mainly use dark magic, but they've got lightning and other mages, plus human necromancers. Both sides trade magic volleys or missiles daily. My heart bleeds—those are money! I've nearly monopolized Russia's smuggled arms. Old-school weapons are surprisingly useful. Electromagnetic cannons? Demons sense them and dodge early.
"Think, people. At least cut soldier casualties, or daily losses will drive me nuts," I said.
"Only a forbidden spell's absolute defense works, but that needs archmage power and can't run 24/7," Shasha said helplessly.
"Send all high-level mages to the Tech Ministry to help Minister Cohen develop a defense shield launcher. Cohen, you know—like in American sci-fi flicks, protecting legions and cities, blocking bombs." Seeing Cohen's eyes nearly roll back, I added, "What?"
"I protest! I love science, love innovation, and I'm a hardcore 'Four Loves' guy, but my beard and hair are white, and I'm still a bachelor!" Cohen whined.
"Didn't I assign you one last time?" I asked, confused.
"Yeah, but I was too busy. Just when I had time and was about to help her with a boob job, you gave me another task. I'm pitiful!"
"Alright, solve this, and I'll get you a 36D."
"Sweet!" Cohen drooled, daydreaming. "36D, heh, so big!" A-Lang, sitting beside him, felt pity—maybe it rubbed off. A-Lang later married a flat-chested girl, pretty but with tiny breasts. A-Hu said they were like a guy's pecs with two big dates. No wonder I always thought something was off with A-Lang's wife's chest. A-Lang kept bugging A-Hu to compare their wives' boobs. A-Hu's girl made him sleep with a chamber pot as punishment. We told A-Lang to get his wife a boob job, but he bragged, "You're just jealous, throwing shade. I fall asleep sucking those sweet dates—so sweet. Her milk's still flowing (his kid's one!), all for me. Your wives got that? I scoff at you!" Damn, we were kinda jealous—that's a man's ultimate bliss. Word spread, sparking a craze in the army for flat-chested girls, nearly marrying thirteen-year-olds. A-Lang's legion led, dubbed the Flat Chest Legion, with enough girlfriends to form a battalion. The kicker? Cohen turned that boob-job girl into another "sweet date" case.
"So boring," A-Lang yawned. A year ago, after inventing absolute defense, casualties dropped, but the shield launcher couldn't move. We'd just bombard the demons daily, and the war stalled. Good thing West Continent's civilians were teleported to the East. "Why not cuddle your sweet dates?" A-Hu jabbed. Those two can't go a day without bickering.
"Look who's talking, Mr. Uncomfortable. Heard someone's still looking," A-Lang shot back.
"I'm comfy, sleeping with a milk bottle nightly."
"Hah, you're the second-born for a reason. I can't keep up," A-Hu said, realizing he'd slipped. Another night with the chamber pot. When word got out, we roared. Now, when his wife fed their son, we'd ask, "Fed Little Hu yet?" I'm smarter—after Xue'er weaned our son, I kept her going. She didn't get why at first, then cut me off when she did.
Counting on my fingers, it's been over two years. An eight-year war with the demons? Earth's army's now a hundred thousand, all Divine Transformation Pills used up—they're the backbone. Saint Demon Continent's martial arts are external, their energy superficial, not lasting. So, I had schools teach Earth's martial arts. Total army: four hundred thousand, including eighty thousand Imperial Guards. Population, thanks to my push, hit forty million. If you can breed, I can feed. Every male citizen must have two wives and three kids—hard rule. Otherwise, what's with all these alien girls? Later, I realized how right my policy was.
Everything seems calm, but we're still at war. My wives and bodyguard beauties gave me over ninety kids in these quiet days: thirty-five boys, sixty-four girls, including six sets of twins. Shasha's not-so-big belly popped out triplets, named Like Poetry, Like Painting, Like Song. Good thing this is the Saint Demon Continent—on Earth, I'd be jailed for bigamy. Jealous judges would lock me up for life. As emperor, I dodged diaper duty, or my hands would've cramped. After the grand baby-making, I rested a week before getting out of bed.
Damn A-Hu and the four stooges—one wanted his son to marry my six daughters. Their one daughter, and they want my seven sons to compete, saying they'd pick the best? Hell, hell! My daughters aren't cheap, even if I've got plenty. Marry one, get five free? My love's like a tide—every kid's my treasure. At twenty-two, I've hit heights no one's touched, past or future. Haha!
Earth's international scene's worsening. No new energy's replaced oil or coal, and uranium's scarce. (Unlike our magic world, with safe, pollution-free energy furnaces—a side product of absolute defense research, using a mini fireball array to gather air's fire elements.) The US waltzed into the Middle East for "peacekeeping." This time, Middle Eastern nations united, refusing to sell oil, even under attack, forming a joint army. They said, "America's got oil—why not drill your own instead of buying ours?" The US had no answer. The Roosevelt carrier showed up, but the UK stayed out—America's been too arrogant. Time for a lesson. Facing all Middle Eastern nations isn't like bullying small fries. China's gearing up to reclaim Taiwan with endless drills. India-Pakistan tensions rise, Japan's yapping, and North-South Korea paused their truce to aim at Japan. The world's one spark from chaos.
My Yellow Dragon Group's a global titan, skyrocketing with our miracle drugs, monopolizing computers, biomedicine, and snacks, with thirty thousand subsidiaries worldwide. The Dark Dragon Team's the underground pope on Earth. Cross them, and suicide's your best bet. No one knows the Dark Dragon boss. They don't stir trouble often, but I've had them rake in plenty of dirty money. No grass, no fat horse; no dirty cash, no rich man. Getting here wasn't easy—taking others' money while they call you a saint. Heh.