I was lying at Malthus' feet.
If I slid up just a few inches, I'd be under his groin.
Tempting? No. Not even a little.
So I stood up, dignity clinging to me like a loose sock.
Now here's the problem… I'm standing in front of Malthus.
My body is screaming run, but instead, I'm just… here. Existing.
This feels like some Final Destination-type curse, except instead of a log truck, I got a Demon.
Malthus and I were face-to-face. Strangely, he wasn't attacking.
Instead, he was giving me the same look I give expired yogurt: confused, cautious, a little impressed.
"Are you one of us?" he asked.
And that's when it hit me.
My face. It's changed.
Of course he didn't attack right away—he thinks I'm one of them!
I must have got the kind of face that makes a demon stop and go, "Hey bro, you coming to the blood ritual later?"
But now I've got a real dilemma.
If I switch back to my original face, he'll instantly throw hands.
But if I stay like this, my people—soldiers, heroes, probably even the janitor—will assume I am infected.
And sure, I'm a degenerate. A disgrace. A scum.
But I'm not scum enough to slaughter my comrades.
(Beater and Cock Bang don't count. I'd trip them in a heartbeat.)
"Answer me!" Malthus pressed.
"I am.. I am.."
Shit. What should I say?
Wait. I should use that.
Yes. I made my decision.
I found confidence and stood straight.
I looked Malthus right in the eye and said :
"I am your Son."
…
GASP!
Malthus' soldiers gasped.
Heck, they all stopped running.
Seeing them stop, my soldiers also stopped running.
My soldiers had already seen me so they showed no special reactions but the soldiers of Malthus, well, all of them looked at me like they saw a well-groomed writer with consistent updates.
Did I say something wrong?
My eyes remained on Malthus and he eyed me up and down.
If my soldiers and Erect mistook me as his son then he should too.
He kept watching me, not saying a word.
Fine. I will make it more convincing for him.
"What are you looking at, dad?"
Malthus frowned.
Not good enough?
How about…
"Papa?"
His brows twitched.
But he should say something. He should believe me.
"Father?"
His brows shot up.
Alright. This is the last one.
"Daddy?"
GASP!
Malthus' soldiers gasped again.
Seriously, stop gasping. It's just a word.
Father and Son relations are normal.
A son can refer to his father any way he wishes.
Malthus might be a villain but even he must have some sympathy for his family.
He must have a son. A little Malthus junior somewhere—
"I am impotent."
"...Huh?"
"Pardon?" I blinked.
"I can never become a father." Malthus muttered.
GASP!
Now my soldiers gasped.
Why the hell are they gasping? I'm the one about to die here!
Wait… maybe it's a test.
I chuckled and patted Malthus' shoulder. "Haha, nice joke, Dad."
But no one laughed.
Malthus was dead serious.
So were his soldiers.
Their faces were stone cold.
Oh. That… wasn't a joke.
All that muscle and he can't even make babies?
And here I am, boldly claiming to be his son.
That must've stung.
I slowly removed my hand from his shoulder. And my smile.
"Who are you? Is this your plan, Human King!? To humiliate me?"
Malthus barked in the air.
Bruh, you yourself revealed your secret. You could have just accepted me as your son.
And seeing how his soldiers were gasping when I called myself as his son, I believe they knew about his devastated manhood as well.
Seriously, why did he say such a thing in front of everyone? That's not how being extroverted works.
"How do you have the same face as me? What magic did you use?"
Oh. So I have his face.
No wonder my people mistook me as his son.
But why do I have his face?
[ You should have read the description of the Skill before changing your face. ]
'I did.'
[ You didn't do shit. ]
'I know. I have been constipated lately.'
[ Not literally. Ugh. I mean you haven't read the description. After using the face changing skill, you will get the face of the person you fear the most. ]
'Oh. Yeah. I remember now. So Malthus is my greatest fear.'
[ You figured that out now? ]
'No. But now it's official.'
[ Just focus on the front. He demands an answer! ]
'Sure.'
"Where are you, Human King! Come forth or I will kill this ugly thing."
Dude. This ugly thing is your face.
Anyway, I think this idea is a flop.
Time to come clean now.
"Calm down, Malthus," I said, undoing the Skill. My face returned as I raised my arms.
"I am the Hero King."
GASP!
My soldiers gasped.
Too much gasping today. It's repetitive now. One of the traits of lazy writing.
Anyway, after my face-reveal, heroes bombarded questions on me.
"My Lord?!"
"It was you!?"
"Forgive me for kicking you!"
"But why were you walking the opposite way from this red bastard?"
I raised my hand.
Silence.
Any more questions and I'd have to admit I was running.
"Everyone, calm down," I said. "It was part of the plan. I changed my face to Malthus' and walked away from you all. I deliberately bumped into Erect, knowing he'd attack me and launch me right in front of this red man. Everything… went according to plan."
[ Have some shame. ]
'I do. That's why I'm trying to share it.'
[ If you lose even after doing all this fuckery, I swear I will chop your dick. ]
Fair enough.
After my explanation, murmurs spread on the battlefield but the next second…
"Of course! You're so smart, my Lord!"
"Only you would think like that."
"I want to be like you one day!"
"So it was your plan! Amazing!"
They believed me.
I was ready to abandon them and they still believed me.
I'm ashamed… a little.
"All that's fine, my Lord, but…" a voice said.
It was Hero Pedro. His face was scrunched in confusion.
"What is it?" I asked.
Pedro reached out, grabbed someone by the collar, and yanked him forward.
"Then who the fuck is this guy?"
I turned to look—
GASP!
One last gasp for the road.
Pedro pulled out another me from the crowd.
Same face. Same armor. Same drip.
I looked at the stranger from head to toe and just as I saw his feet, everything became clear.
Can't believe he thought the same thing as me.
I sighed and walked toward the stranger.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Indeed, it is I. The onus of justification rests upon you, pretender."
"Well, there you have it, everyone."
"Ha! Your deception shall not prevail, impostor. These are no fools—they shall discern truth from falsehood with ease."
"Then let's ask them." I turned to the crowd, Malthus included.
"Pop quiz, everyone! Who is this?"
And from across the battlefield came the unified roar—
"It's motherfucking Sexis!!"