[Max! Smith Jr. and Eula need your help!]

Max stared at the words in his vision with a vacant expression. He went through the list of herbs in his mind, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out which ones were Smith Jr. and Eula. Maybe they were the names of the alcohol brewing in his cellar. Then again, they could also be the names of some of the spirit beasts that were being reared. Before Max could ask for confirmation, a portal opened up in front of him, and on the other side, there was a hellish scene of screaming people and fire raining down. Max covered his eyes and turned around. “I like this world way, way better, thank you very much.”

[Max! An immortal is attacking the Flame Dragon Empire!]

“Flame Dragon Empire?” Max tilted his head. “Where is that?”

[That’s the empire you’re a citizen of!]

“Oh…,” Max said slowly while nodding his head. A long, long time ago, he was part of a civilization, wasn’t he? But that was a million years ago when he was still a mortal. He had lived there for such a short amount of time that it was basically a rounding error, and he had completely forgotten about it. “So, what about it?”

[You have to defeat the immortal attacking the empire—for justice!]

Max scratched his head. Everything he did, they seemed to be for justice. Raising spirit herbs—for justice. Raising spirit animals—for justice. Brewing alcohol—for justice. He had seen the phrase so often that it lost its meaning to him. The world he was in, it was nice and peaceful. The food was great. He didn’t want for anything. In short, it was paradise. The world that was behind him, through the portal, it was hell. Who in their right mind would give up paradise for hell? Besides, the justice words—as he called them—seemed to be forgetting something. “I have no combat experience. If I fight another immortal, I’ll die.”

[How can you say you’ll lose before even trying? That’s not the thought process of a warrior of justice! The warrior of justice acts before he thinks, punches before he speaks, and picks himself up after defeat!]

Max exhaled through his nose, completely unperturbed by the justice words. “I think you’ve made a mistake,” he said. “I’m a gardener of justice, not a warrior.”

[Even a gardener can become a warrior in times of desperation!]

“I’m not feeling very desperate though….”

[Max! You’re going to go through that portal and fight that immortal, or I’m kicking you out of this place!]

“A change of scenery would be nice,” Max said and scratched his chin. Despite his age, he still looked like a young man, clear of facial hair. “I’m sure I’ll be fine wherever I go.”

[This is what happens when you raise users without any hardship. They start rebelling when you give them difficult tasks.]

[Shut up! How many immortals have you even raised, huh? What does a snack god know about rearing users?]

[This snack god is richer than your whole alliance! How much money have you raised, hmm? Exactly!]

[All you do is mooch off of Vremya!]

[If Vremya didn’t fund you, would Max even be an immortal right now? Is it even okay for justice to have hypocrisy?]

[I was just pointing out facts! I never said I raised Max by myself. I just said you haven’t raised any immortal users.]

Max blinked. He already knew there were multiple sets of words in existence, but this was the first time he had seen them blatantly arguing. Where exactly were they located? Did they reside in his head? He wondered about it, but quickly dismissed the thought. He already knew he wasn’t the brightest person, and many unexplained things happened around him all the time. One more event wasn’t worth breaking his mind over. Max turned around, ignoring the squabbling in his vision. The portal to the Flame Dragon Empire was still wide open. It looked exactly as he remembered it. Then again, he barely remembered it at all, so he wasn’t sure if his memory was changing to fit the scene or if the scene really resembled his memories.

The sound of a crying child came through the portal, and Max let out a sigh. When he was still a mortal, he had taken up a job as a guard, thinking he could help people in need. It was only after a few years of guarding that he realized he was only a glorified doorman. However, seeing the people in the empire screaming for someone to save them, something in his heart throbbed. He might not know how to fight, but didn’t he have the strength now to protect people? Max rose to his feet and walked through the portal. It shut behind him, but he didn’t take notice of it. He glanced around before raising his hand. Spiritual energy surged from every single cell within his body and concentrated in his fingertip. He pointed it at the sky and narrowed his eyes. “Herb-Guarding Shield!”

The technique didn’t have a fancy name. It was given to him by the justice words to defend the Parasitizing Cuckoo Root. The Parasitizing Cuckoo Root was a rare spiritual herb that could only grow in the same soil as a thunder-based spiritual herb. However, most of the time, they were struck by lightning and died before becoming mature. A shield was necessary to protect them while they were young, and it was this shield that Max was employing to cover the whole of the Flame Dragon Empire. The fires raining from the sky collided against the shield, and instead of burning, they were snuffed out, absorbed by the barrier he had summoned.

“Hmm? Someone’s interfering?” From between two burning buildings, a man dressed in black robes walked out with three black, spirit tigers following behind him. “Are you an immortal of this empire?”

Max furrowed his brow. The spiritual energy fluctuations coming off of the immortal reminded him of the Apocalyptic Omen, a spiritual herb said to bring about the apocalypse if it fully matured. Of course, Max had grown it to maturation, and he had witnessed the terrible aura coming out of it. Black tentacles had wrapped around the world, attracted by the herb, but the golems had blown them up after a fierce battle. That was when Max realized the golems were more than just helpers. Luckily, Max had been given a special technique to harvest the Apocalyptic Omen. Max clenched his hands and said, “Herb-Picking Armor.”

White light enveloped Max’s body, making him glow like a celestial being. Sometimes, picking spiritual herbs was dangerous, and the justice words knew that, giving him this technique to protect his life. With it, he didn’t have to worry about thorns suddenly stabbing him or flowers opening up and biting his head off. However, there was no offensive power to the light, and things could touch him without getting hurt—he knew that from experience. It was terrifying to have his head swallowed by a flower, but the armor protected him from being eaten at least.

The immortal stopped approaching Max and wrinkled his nose. “I’m known as Old Man Destruction,” the immortal said. “Who are you? How come I’ve never heard about you before?”

The immortal’s name tickled Max’s brain. He had a vague recollection of hearing that name before, but it had been so long that he couldn’t remember the details. “You … explored … something, right?”

Old Man Destruction raised an eyebrow. “Those legends about me are still being passed around, huh?” He nodded. “It’s true. I explored an ancient ruin and witnessed the apocalypse that ended an entire civilization. I’ll let you have a taste!” A black flame appeared in the immortal’s hand, and he thrust his arm forward. A black phoenix screeched and flew out of his palm, striking Max before he could react. However, it didn’t do any damage to the gardener.

Max grabbed the phoenix by its head and whirled his arm around in a circle as if he were swinging a lasso. There was a series of snapping sounds, and the creature’s neck was broken despite its body being made of flames. “Phoenixes are one of the most common animals I’ve reared,” he said and dropped the dead bird. It dissipated, turning into a pile of ashes. “Surprisingly, they’re not too different from flying chickens.”

Old Man Destruction grimaced. He was a very calculating person, and right now, he couldn’t see through his opponent’s abilities. The safest option was to run and observe. “Get him!” the immortal shouted, pointing forward. The three spirit tigers behind him dashed ahead. While they distracted his opponent, Old Man Destruction would take that time to run away. He turned around and ran, but to his surprise, he didn’t hear the sounds of combat behind him. He couldn’t help but glance behind himself, and he nearly tripped upon seeing the sight. His opponent had taken out three pieces of meat and was feeding them to his tigers! They were acting like babies begging for their mother’s milk! At that moment, his opponent raised his head and made eye contact with Old Man Destruction.

Max couldn’t help but wonder if the immortal was actually a poser or not. He reached into his bag and pulled out a white rope. He quickly tied one end of it into a lasso, and he threw it forward as if he were catching a spirit bull—something he had done thousands of times. The lasso seemed to predict Old Man Destruction’s movements and snagged him as he dodged. Max reeled in the lasso and found it quite similar to fishing albeit a bit easier. Was this man dressed in black really the immortal responsible for burning down the empire? Max frowned to himself, wondering if he caught the right person or not.

***

“How the heck is Max so strong?” Karta asked, her eyes bulging out of her head. “That’s one of Istoriya’s users; I’ve seen a livestream of him before! He’s strong, but Max caught him like an old lady catches pneumonia in the rain!”

Pravos laughed and patted her chest. “This is the power of justice! Justice always prevails!”

Vremya stroked his chin. “If I’m not mistaken, all those techniques Max used cost over ten thousand heaven-grade spirit stones each in the marketplace. That lasso is fifty thousand heaven-grade spirit stones too.” He glanced at Pravos through the corner of his eyes. “This is how you spent the money I gave you?”

Pravos’ head shrank down, her neck practically disappearing into her shoulders. “I-it was worth it, at least, right?” She pointed at the display. “See? The problem’s solved.”

Vremya squinted at Pravos. Then, while the god of justice was wondering how she’d be punished, Vremya put his hand on her shoulder. “Good job. Buy some more and throw Eula, Smith Jr., and Paul into the fast-time world.”

Pravos blinked three times. “Yes, sir!” She saluted before bobbing her head up and down. “Oh, but I don’t have to buy the techniques again. They can be taught over and over again.”

Vremya waved his hand. “The little details don’t matter,” he said. “If you need more money, just ask.”

Pravos bobbed her head up and down again. She seemed to be doing that a lot around Vremya, to the point of making her neck stiff, but it didn’t bother her. For once, she actually got to make decisions on her own without being scolded! She was even told she had done a good job! Blagora had never said those words to her, ever! The feeling in her chest was too much for her to hold back, and she shouted, “For justice!”

Karta stared at the god of justice with a look reserved for crazy people. The Labrador retriever shook her head. Money really did make people act strangely.