Thank You For Being Trash

Information about the Fourth Prince was scattered around the brothel.

The street where the child lived was no longer the street where the child used to live. Only ugly lives and nothing but murders lingered on the streets. They weren't crazy, having spent the day drunk and drugged.

From the day they heard the information, they had been looking forward to the day the Prince would come. Although they may find it foolish to believe in information from unknown sources, they hang on blindly like they saw hope because they didn’t want to live like this anymore.

Those who grew up in poor living conditions had no morals. They didn't know it was wrong to kidnap the Prince.

Black hair and red eyes. Unlike the Crown Prince, it was clear that the information about the veiled Prince was fast spreading. No one noticed anything strange. Occasionally, there were people who felt strange and left themselves out.

The child did not belong to either class. From that day on, the child thoroughly inspected the passersby. Gait and arms sway. It was very rare that a person as tall as a prince would come without any preparation.

Unlike other people, the child had an excellent eye for seeing people.

He followed the crowd, centered around brown hair and red eyes, that nobody cared about. The hair color could be covered with a wig, though not the eyes. The gait of the red-eyed man moved like a street tycoon, but not the party.

Footsteps as if they were measured with a ruler and the sway of the angled arms. Sometimes, even waved his hand as if consciously. It was obviously learned. Rather, it seemed like it would have been safe for the Prince to come alone, so something made him laugh.

The child followed them slowly. He pursued them undetected, but he never learned a sword and did not know how to follow.

The child was led into a secret alley, a dead end, and thought he might die. The dagger flew past his ear and was nailed to the wall.

“Who are you?”

An ugly look lingered around the Prince.

The child was sweating in a cold sweat. The child calmly looked at their group. The red-eyed prince was a man who had learned the sword, and two knights were in the party of four. At that, the child thought that he had seen one of the two knights somewhere.

The knights exchanged hand signals.

The child knew that the exchange of glances between the two knights was not to kill him. The subtle wariness that the Prince sent to the two knights or the gaze that was staring at him confirmed the position of the Prince's sword. It wasn't meant to kill him.

The child pulled out the dagger that was stuck in the wall. He ran as fast as he could, risking everything of his own to this act.

He thrust the sword precisely into the vein of the knight's neck. As he quickly pulled out a dagger that didn't come off easily, he thrusted the dagger into the heart of the knight wielding the sword at him.

All attacks hit vital points. The child thought he was lucky. The paper that the child studied that now became a spark was a medical book.

The child covered in bright red blood smiled brightly.

“Let me be on your side, then I'll make you emperor.”

It was all a gamble, and the child won as a result.

* * *

The Fourth Prince, who was adept in both swordsmanship and learning, was loved by the Emperor. The Emperor gave priority to his abilities, and the Fourth Prince gave the Emperor satisfaction under all conditions.

It was only natural that there would be forces trying to harm him. Even though the Fourth Prince knew that his mother being in a brothel was a trap, he moved on.

Affection for the mother. There was no such thing from birth.

The group that the emperor wanted for politics was people who did law exclusively and without private feelings. He grew up letting go of personal feelings, such as love, friendship, and anger. Still, the reason he had to go was to find the traitor. The Fourth Prince knew that those who followed him were serving other lords.

The trap that he fell into knowingly was not dangerous. The dangerous thing was they were trying to harm him.

He found an unexpectedly useful thing in that garbage dump. During that brief time, the child was alert to those who wanted to harm him. He was quick-witted. Besides, he liked his bold guts to place bets on the verge of death.

The Fourth Prince gave him the name [ Raphael ] because he had no name.

One of the messengers of the Gods, the archangels. One of the names of the three major temples on the continent.

He whispered to the child, waving his hand, that it was an excessive name.

“If what you said is a lie, I will tear off your wings and let you fall to the ground. From bliss in heaven you thought would last forever, I'll drop you down to hell.”

Despite the Prince's threats, the child smiled brightly.

He had to be that terrible to become an emperor. Tear the child to death when he no longer needed him.

So, the child became Raphael.

After that, the number of children dying in brothels decreased.

* * *

A lot of blood was sprayed to put the Fourth Prince on the throne. It was like an annual event. The Prince was terribly cruel and had to kill all his brothers to become emperor.

Distria killed all his own brothers and became the Emperor.

The process was not always smooth. Raphael went through the hurdles of death more than his fingers could count. There were also a lot of people trying to convince Raphael, who had come into Distria.

Since he had a great eye for people and knew that no one was more suited to the throne than Distria. There were many things that took place from the position of the Prince, who had been neglected, to establish his power.

Although Raphael was his close friend, he was criticized because of his birth. He was told that if he behaved nobly, he would struggle in basic things. Nevertheless, if he behaved in a promiscuous manner, he would be insulted in front and behind, saying that he did not know how to behave properly because he had no origin.

Even though he struggled to get out of that hell, it felt like he was being thrown into mud again. He struggled to live as a human being. He thought he would be happy if he got out like that. But, it wasn't.

He wanted to be recognized. He wanted to be happy.

He didn't know because he had nothing, and people were crafty. And, the more they get, the more they want to get something.

The year Raphael was twenty-three. It was the day of the coronation ceremony of the Emperor, Distria. It had been six years since he met him, a short time yet a long time. Raphael glanced up at him in a red cloak and a gleaming golden crown. All of that went terribly well with Distria.

He bowed his head, expecting Distria to give him a new title.

“Raphael, I appreciate your work. But, I will not give you a title.”

Distria laughed arrogantly.

Raphael felt his expectations plummet to the bottom. Was it because of his birth? If he was a baron and not a child born in a brothel, he would have been given the duke's position.

Thinking that, he clasped his hands in his misery.

Although he was outraged by Distria’s treatment, he did not intend to respond.

He couldn’t. In the first place, even though he was aware of the ceremony held when Distria became the Emperor of the Empire, Distria did not kill him. He was satisfied with that alone. How dare someone like him covets a noble position…?

Six years later, Raphael's threshold of satisfaction was still low.

“One, I will give you all the power that the founder of the country can enjoy. The name of the position will be [ Raphael ].”

Raphael knew that the Emperor had given him the greatest gift he could ever give. However, he did not need such a position and authority.

A nobility's surname…

He wanted a title. No matter how great the authority he had, he was a noble without a castle. Raphael quickly blamed his thoughts, which quickly changed like the palm of his hand. He was a deceitful human being.

Raphael was assigned an office and residence near the Emperor's bedroom.

It was a sign that the Emperor trusted him. In addition, he was given a gift of an old castle in the Capital, and a house right in front of the Imperial Palace, which had been used by the officials of the Empire from generation to generation.

Raphael had killed countless people while making Distria Emperor, and he looked at the results obtained.

It looked like it had no substance, even though it was laid out on paper. He got as much as he tried, he thought, and he felt no guilt for his own killings.

Because he thought that people did not die when their hearts stopped. He felt no guilt. He didn't feel guilty about killing people who were alive after seeing those who didn't seem to be alive. The person in front of him was also like that.

Raphael stared at Distria, who had come close to him.

“Are you disappointed that I didn’t give you a surname?”

"No. I am satisfied with what I have already received.”

Distria laughed bitterly. He handed Raphael the glass of wine he was holding in his hand. The glasses collided, and there was a refreshing sound.

Raphael sniffed the incense and put the wine in his mouth. A bitter taste lingered on his lips.

By the time he slowly savored the wine, Distria had already finished his glass. Originally, his actions were vulgar, deserving of criticism for not being able to enjoy the aroma and taste of wine. Nonetheless, there was no sense of vulgarity in Distria's actions.

“The reason I didn’t give you a surname is because I hope you don’t forget the desperation you had when I first met you.”

At his words, Raphael stared at him.

Distria left his seat, placing the empty glass on the table. Raphael looked at the empty glass. He had climbed all the way up to the top, though he was still low, and it was unfortunate that he did not belong anywhere.

He tore and killed those who insulted him. He made an example of those who pointed out that his actions were not noble and put them in a brothel… Still, the emptiness he felt did not diminish.

Rather, it grew in size like a monster.

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