Ever since he was born he was abnormal. By the time other babies would be starting to learn to walk he was already walking normally. By the time others would barely be speaking a few words he could already form full coherent sentences. He didn’t go to school. Why would he? By the time he had to he was studying high school material. By the time he was twelve he could give lectures to university students if he cared about doing it.

But he didn’t. He did nothing for the world. He didn’t use his genius to benefit other people. After all, why would he? If he would only put in some effort he could definitely advance the world’s technology by decades. He could literally revolutionize the world’s science. But why? Why should he? He didn’t care about the world. In fact, he detested it. On his list of things he cared about his little sister who was neglected by their parents because of him would be at the top and the world? Humanity? They wouldn’t even make it on it. Humanity would be at the top of the list of things he hates and the world would be right below it just for having humanity in it. If those religions were right and he would someday get the chance to meet God after he dies, the first thing he would do is run up and bash his fist straight into his face. For creating humanity. And for leaving it to do whatever it wanted afterwards.

Of course he knew that wouldn’t happen. Even if a god existed he was definitely not all-powerful and he was sure that he had reasons for not interfering in the world… you know… other than being a gigantic prick.

It’s not as if he cared much about nature or something like that. No, he didn’t care about deforestation or toxic waste as long as it didn’t affect him or the little sister he loved because his parent’s wouldn’t.

The real reason he hated humanity was for what it did to each other. Murder, rape, torture, drugs, kidnappings. What the fuck was wrong with these assholes, he often wondered. He had no idea how messed up you’d have to be to get enjoyment out of the suffering of innocent people. Ironically enough he hated the kinds of people who got enjoyment out of others’ suffering so much that he would often get enjoyment out of their own. Yeah he was a hypocrite but they were worse so why should he feel bad for it?

By the time he was eighteen he had grown bored of doing nothing but reading and studying so he had decided to take up martial arts and had already been practicing for a few years. It was tough at first even for him after all he hadn’t exercised much at all even if he had done a bit of running from time to time to at least keep himself in average shape. At first the exercises were difficult and his muscles screamed after every day of practice but he quickly learned to enjoy it and after a while his body had gotten used to it. That was all he needed.

After his body got strong enough he started improving at a pace that would make world level athletes blush from embarrassment. And at this point when he was 18 he had already mastered several of the martial arts he practiced and moved on to others. Aikido, karate, muay thai, judo, hell he even went as far as to practice swordsmanship, knife fighting and even practiced with bows and guns just because he felt like he might as well add some ranged weaponry to his deadly arsenal of skills. He soon grew bored of training martial arts so he came up with his own styles instead. And one day after coming back from a long day out he found the door of his house open. His parents: dead, his sister - nowhere to be found.

Just a few days later he got a call from the ones responsible. It was one of the many companies that wanted to recruit him and work him like a slave for their advancement in the industry. One of the most successful companies in the world. They claimed to have his sister. He had his suspicions. It had already been a few days since they kidnapped her. He had already lost hope. Why should he believe them now? But… they let him hear her voice… they made a mistake. He immediately knew it was a recording. Just a week later one of the most powerful companies in the world had gone bankrupt. All their illegal dealings and secrets revealed in court. The CEO and several of the shareholders in the company had a lifetime sentence. And all of this had been done by one eighteen year old boy. Nobody wanted to mess with him anymore. But they couldn’t either. He was gone.

Nobody could find him for the next two years. Until the civil war broke out. The country didn’t even see it coming. It only took a few months to take it over. And of course the one who was in the middle of it all. The leader of the so called revolutionary forces was the same man who disappeared 2 years ago.

And so he took the country immediately declaring that the republic will now be a monarchy and himself the king. The country was in chaos for a while but as soon as he took over it calmed down. He rebuilt the economy, flushed out the corrupted ex-officials and hired actually capable people, he abolished the more inefficient systems replacing them with new ones and fixed problems with some of the ones he decided not to replace outright.

This all only took two months. It would have usually taken longer but he brute forced his way through a lot of the problems. Killed all that got in his way. Nobody standing between him and his goal would live. Other countries tried to take advantage of the countries moment of weakness before it was over but by the time they were ready it was too late. The weakness which truly lasted only a moment was all ready fixed and the ones trying to take advantage of it put down like rabid dogs.

And so the conquest began. Country after country fell and by the time the rest of the world got their shit together and realized they had to stop it at all costs it was too late.

He had already taken a third of the world and they couldn’t stop him from taking over the rest. Even though they made their alliance, even though they knew they had to stop him they were too worried about themselves and couldn’t fully oppose him with all their strength. They had to leave some for after the war right?

He didn’t though. He didn’t care what was left of his army. Nor did he care what would happen if he somehow didn’t win the war. It would be the end of him anyway. And if the world stayed the same as now then he would care little even if it imploded right after his death.

His tactics were ruthless, effective and used every single resource he had available. The other countries tried to stop him but they couldn’t. While their armies were commanded by seasoned war generals his were commanded by none other than himself. To him exchanging tactics with these veteran generals was like pitting a chess master against someone who learned the rules just a few days ago.

A man who could go far enough to aim for world domination with nothing but his personal skills and what he acquired through them. How could they pose any threat to him? How could he let them pose any threat at all?

The rest of the world slowly fell and the countries that were left one by one started waving a white flag. They gave up. Nothing could stand between him and “bettering” the world.

He was already sixty years old when he finally succeeded and he knew the end was close. His life was shortened by the enormous amounts of stress and expectations he was forced to carry during it. It was coming to an end soon and he could feel it.

He spent the rest of his life fixing as much of the world’s problems as he could. He concentrated on making the world a place where what happened to him would not happen to anyone else.

Of course he knew it was impossible. He knew he wouldn’t be able to change human nature. He knew it best. He was also one of the humans he hated so much and he felt sick for it. He cursed the fact that he was born human so many times in his life even before what happened to his sister and ten times more after it.

He cursed it so much that he was almost consumed by it. He had already gone insane by the time he was done with the world. He could hear voices. Screaming at him to kill, to destroy anyone he saw. But he resisted. He always resisted.

Well, it was too late now anyway. He was dying and he could finally rest. He could finally stop being one of the humans he hated so much and escape from the torment people called life.

Of course he didn’t think about leaving the world to some random pieces of shit he barely trusted with tying his shoes without them pulling a knife out and trying to stab him. He had adopted three sons and trained them all in whatever he could to insure that they would rule correctly. He taught them about justice and how the good should be respected and favored over those that harm them for their own pleasure and not be punished for protecting themselves from them.

His own ideals were hypocritical and twisted but he didn’t want those twisted ideals to be passed on to his so called sons. Even if he didn’t care too much for them as his sons. He still cared about them as people. He just… couldn’t handle having a family again.

As his death drew closer and closer he got weaker day after day. He let them take care of more and more of his matters both because he was tired and because he hoped it would help them get some experience in dealing with these things before he would join his sister in the void that is called death.

After all, he wasn’t religious and even if heaven existed and he had the chance to go there he would gladly choose to go to hell instead. He felt like he could get along with Satan much more than with that dick Christianity named God.

The day his sons were ready and left to take care of all matters from now on would ironically become the day he died. Feeling like he had done enough he could finally return to the town he was born in. It wasn’t like he liked the town. Not like he wanted to live there specifically. But his sister’s grave was there so he set it as his destination. It would help if he had some kind of goal in the place he would fly to.

At this point he could barely walk without his cane. The genius tactician and master martial artist had been reduced to nothing but an old man that could not wait to take a rest in death’s sweet embrace.

But he still climbed into the private plane he had had built for efficiency rather than bragging rights and took off across the Atlantic to meet with his sister one last time before his demise. Of course nothing always goes to plan.

Or does it? The plane was sabotaged and he knew it. He just pretended not to. He had already finished talking to his sons about it. He told them what he had in mind and although they protested greatly he forced them to accept it. He would die. His plane would fall in the Atlantic never to be dug up and his body would be in it. The only reason he had finally used the planes auto-pilot function instead of leaving it to an actual person was because he had not wanted to ruin some poor sod’s life for his own death agenda.

The whole flight he smiled more than he ever had in life. His face which was usually emotionless and cold had the warmest look ever on it. If anyone saw him now nobody would think this poor old man was the hated tyrant that conquered the entire world, probably for his lust of power… Right?

He looked at his watch and realized it was about time it happened. As the last few seconds of his life ticked down on his watch he heard an explosion from the fuel section of the plane. Yet he was only happy for it.

Yes, he would finally die and his sons would become the heroes who got rid of the terrible tyrant that was their father. According to his plan the next day they would come with promises that they would make the world a better place and would not let themselves walk in the footsteps of their adoptive father and everyone would love them for it.

He was correct. But wasn’t he always? While he was seconds away from death’s door there were a few people who actually mourned for him. They mourned today as they wouldn’t have the time to do it tomorrow. They would after all have to take care of the things he left behind. Though few and far in between there were people who respected him. Among them his three sons were at the top.

Though their father was strict he was loving. Though he was cold he gave warmth to all those around him. If anyone asked them why they felt that way about their father their answer would simply be – “Because he lives life for himself.”. The meaning of those words would probably be understood by few if any at all.

They remembered some of the good memories they had of him as they cried. But all good things in life have to come to an end. And so does life itself.

The man’s time had finally come and the airplane was only seconds away from crashing into the ocean. Still wearing the brightest smile anyone had ever worn, closing his eyes, he uttered his final words.

“Today is truly a happy day" (Old tired tyrant)

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Two beautiful women were sitting down in the middle of a colorful garden that was only making them look more beautiful with it as the background. The crimson-haired and eyed beauty with sharp features had just finished telling her friend the beautiful story of a man who had hated humanity and the world and had spent the better half of his life trying to conquer and change it. Her friend had platinum blonde hair and though her appearance was petite she had a motherly aura to her that would make anyone feel at home her presence. That gentle friend of the crimson-haired woman who was wearing a mischievous smile was currently left speechless by the story she had just heard.

“What do you think?” (Crimson-haired woman)

“… Where did you find this person?” (Petite woman)

“Oh he was in some backwater world that didn’t even have magic in it.” (Crimson-haired woman)

Her friend couldn’t believe it. To think there was someone so impressive born in a world which didn’t even have magic in it! Her champion was apparently also born in such a world which they managed to figure out from the bits and pieces she had left of her memories but she was nowhere near as impressive as the man she had just heard about.

“You look like you want to ask why the hell he was born there and not here so you could take him for yourself.” Said the crimson-haired woman with a smirk on her face.

Hearing that the petite woman snapped out of her speechless state and coughed once trying to cover up her embarrassment. She definitely thought about it for a second but she ended up denied it.

“No I would admit he is incredibly impressive he would not be suitable for me.” (Petite woman)

“True. He is too impure to be yours. (Crimson-haired beauty)

The petite woman only nodded once before continuing the conversation.

“I do think he would be perfect for you though. He’s strong and proud but unlike your children who are easily angered he seems like the type of man to keep a cool head while dealing with the situation at hand.” Said the petite goddess nodding once to herself as if to confirm her statement.

“I wonder about that.” Answered her friend with the giant smirk still splattered on her face.

“What? Am I wrong?” (Petite woman)

“I think so at least. Did the guy really sound so noble to you? (Crimson-haired beauty)

The petite woman only tilted her head not understanding her friend’s implication. She thought him to be a noble soul who was undeserving of his suffering. Though he did sound impure his heart sounded like it was in the right place.

“Well whatever. I’m going to go now. Don’t want him to wait for too long after all.” (Crimson-haired beauty)

She said so with an awkward smile. Her friend only smiled warmly and waved her off. She could not wait to speak with the man. So she hurried. Hoping to get to him before it was too late.