Chapter One: Are You Sure This Is the Protagonist?

The scorching summer sun makes life unbearable for many, yet there stands a building shrouded in shadow, beneath a heavy, ever-present mass of dark clouds over a Western European-style castle. Everything inside is adorned with a sinister and eerie theme.

Within the gloomy grand hall, a young man, appearing to be eighteen or nineteen with handsome features, reclines lazily on a sofa that seems to be made of extravagantly expensive leather. His eyes are half-closed, lost in thought, but from time to time, a vicious and venomous glint flashes across his gaze—one that belies his age.

On another throne in the hall sits a middle-aged man, coldly watching the youth. It is not hard to see from his face that he too was once a striking young man. After a long silence, he sighs and says slowly, “You must have received news of that person by now.”

He is referring to the son he had sired during his youth, after a fateful encounter with a girl he had forced to stay. This was his second son, Nightstar. To secure the position for his eldest—the first in line to inherit the Demon King’s throne—the father had sent assassins to eliminate Nightstar, fearing for his own standing.

Yet Nightstar, by sheer fortune, managed to escape, even encountering the Black Tortoise. At the time, the man hadn’t thought much of it; he merely dispatched a few more underlings to search for the boy and root him out once and for all.

He hadn’t expected that, after five or six years—long enough for him to almost forget this son he had never met—his men would suddenly report that the boy’s strength now surpassed that of most of the assassins sent after him. Nearly half had already fallen at his hands.

He knew well the caliber of the killers he had sent. Though not the elite, they were among the strongest of the middle ranks in his power. By this reckoning, Nightstar’s strength had already far exceeded that of his other son.

As the current Demon King, after decades of cultivation, his own strength was just barely at the level of a top master. The young man reclining on the sofa, his successor and heir, would be considered merely talented in the outside world—hardly qualified to be Demon King.

Now, his youngest son had reached such heights at a tender age, his talent extraordinary even in the long history of the Demon King’s lineage. Naturally, this inspired the Demon King to consider bringing him back to replace the disappointing elder son.

Thus, he sent a trusted confidant to inform Nightstar of his true heritage. If Nightstar agreed to return, the throne would be his; if he refused, he was to be killed on the spot. The Demon King was confident that no one in the world could resist such a temptation.

Weeks passed without word. Then, to his bewilderment, a severed head and a note arrived—the head belonged to his confidant, and on the note were written four words: “To the death.” The king knew his confidant’s abilities. For someone to kill him, only he himself might stand a chance.

To have missed out on such a genius, only for him to become an enemy, filled the Demon King with rage. He stormed into the Demon Queen’s chambers and killed her with a single blow—not for any particular reason, but simply to vent his fury.

Now, that child had become the youngest top master in the world, most likely to become the second First Generation Demon King. It was only a matter of time before he reigned supreme. The Demon King had regretted countless times not preventing this outcome. Not only had he lost a prodigiously talented son, but he had also gained an enemy who would never stop until one of them was dead.

What was done could not be undone. Now, he could only think of ways to hunt Nightstar down. He had brought up the matter to see what his eldest son, Demon Axis, thought.

“It’s all the fault of those useless fools! So many people, and they let a three- or four-year-old child escape! Now he’s causing us all this trouble. And that wretch—if he’d just let them kill him instead of running, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” Demon Axis showed no remorse, shifting all the blame to his subordinates as though it was only natural for others to obey and die at his whim.

“Hmph. I knew it was pointless to ask you. Get out and focus on your cultivation. Leave Nightstar to me!” the Demon King snapped. If Demon Axis weren’t his only heir, he would have killed him long ago. With a scolding, he ordered him out.

Demon Axis’s eyes burned with fury. He shot a venomous glare at the Demon King before storming back to his room. Grabbing a cup from the table, he hurled it to the floor, shattering it. He roared, “That damned old man! How dare he speak to me like that over a wretch! One day, I’ll kill him!”

A flood of negative emotions surged through his mind. Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice sounded.

“Ding! Large amounts of pure negative emotions detected. Absorbing negative energy…”

“Demon King Creation System activated…”

Demon Axis’s eyes widened in disbelief. Had he just heard that? A system! The very first golden finger that helps the protagonist achieve greatness! If he had obtained such a thing, what could it mean? It meant he was the true protagonist!

Forcing himself to calm down, he asked in his mind, “System, are you there?”

“Yes, host. Do you have any instructions?” came the cold, mechanical reply, devoid of emotion, as if it were merely executing a program.

“What functions do you have? Can you give me the power of the First Generation Demon King instantly?” Overjoyed to hear the system’s reply, Demon Axis asked eagerly. Right now, what he wanted most was overwhelming strength to destroy both the harsh Demon King and his troublesome ‘brother.’

“The system has investigative functions to analyze targets’ details and strength, as well as cultivation support to accelerate your progress and assist in battle. The system was created by the First Generation Demon King using all his cultivation at the moment of his death. It can help you become as powerful as he was,” the system replied without a trace of feeling.

“Hahaha! I knew it! I am the protagonist! I was right! With this system, who in the world can challenge me? That wretch wants revenge? I’ll be waiting!” Demon Axis laughed madly, his expression wild and arrogant.

All of this was witnessed by an outsider, who stood dumbfounded for a long while before the corner of his mouth twitched. Turning to the petite, adorable black-haired girl beside him—so cute she inspired a protective urge—he muttered, “I honestly can’t find a single redeeming quality in this guy. How did he get the golden finger? As the protagonist of the last novel, I demand an explanation from the author! Are you sure this fellow is the protagonist?”