Joseph and his team materialized in Nagano Planet City, a bustling metropolis where life appeared to continue as usual. Citizens moved about their routines, seemingly untouched by strife. However, beneath this fa?ade lay a growing crisis—one the city lady had carefully concealed to prevent widespread panic.

  The team’s arrival did not go unnoticed. Within moments, they were approached by the warriors of Nagano, their leader, Kouta Mitsu, standing at the forefront. Kouta, a formidable knight commander and vampire merman, exuded a commanding presence. He greeted the group with a measured calm and personally escorted them to the council hall, where the city lady and a gathering of elders awaited.

  After the customary introductions, they delved straight into the matter at hand. Kouta revisited the dire circumstances, explaining with somber resolve. "A powerful demon lord has threatened to erase our planet from existence," he began.

  Though the demon lord was not the strongest of her kind, her cunning made her formidable. Kouta recounted the sacrifices of Nagano’s bravest warriors, who had uncovered her stronghold at great cost. His voice wavered as he spoke of Kana Kasumi, a young huntress who had saved his life twice. "Kana was vibrant and destined for leadership," Kouta said, his eyes heavy with grief. "But she chose to remain my second-in-command, fighting by my side until the very end. She and others gave their lives with honor to bring us this vital information."

  Kouta continued, describing the demon lord's stronghold in the wasteland outside the city and the theft of a critical biotech weapon. "This weapon was designed to enhance our agricultural capabilities and sustain life by integrating portions of every warrior’s aura. It heals the injured, cures the sick, restores plantations, and even holds the potential to raise the dead. It’s our safeguard against catastrophe."

  Joseph frowned, interrupting with disbelief. "Wait a second! Why would you even create something like that? And why would a demon lord, who could destroy a universe in her sleep, go through the hassle of stealing it?"

  Kouta corrected him patiently. "It’s the only one of its kind. We created it out of necessity, to preserve our world. As for her motives, the demon lord specifically told us she was bored. Ruining our lives with her schemes before erasing us is simply entertainment for her."

  Realizing his misstep, Joseph quickly apologized. "I’m sorry—I overreacted. I didn’t mean to sound dismissive."

  "It’s understandable," Kouta replied, his tone forgiving.

  Shifting focus, Joseph asked, "What’s the plan?"

  Kouta activated a holographic map, the room illuminating with its intricate projections. He laid out a strategic plan in detail, his voice steady as he explained their approach. When the briefing concluded, he powered down the device.

  "We’ll depart at first light," Kouta announced. "Until then, a warrior will escort you to your guest house. Rest well."

  Joseph and his team followed their guide to a well-furnished guest house. Across from the residence stood a lively clubhouse, its neon lights casting a soft glow in the twilight. After thanking the warrior, Joseph turned to his team, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

  "Alright, get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be intense. But if you need me, I’ll be at that club over there."

  Mari shot him a pointed look. "Just don’t be late like last time."

  Joseph raised his hands in mock surrender. "Got it. No repeats." With that, he headed off toward the club, leaving his team to prepare for the challenges ahead.

  At the club, Joseph nursed his drink at the large bar counter, a sturdy wooden table that separated customers from the bartender. The air was warm with chatter, laughter, and soft music. As he swirled the amber liquid in his glass, he occasionally glanced around, taking in the dim, elegant setting. His gaze wandered idly until it landed on a lone, hooded figure sitting quietly in a corner booth.

  He froze, his breath hitching. The figure was unmistakably familiar. He had seen this person before—twice, in fact—during the chaos on Kawasaki Planet. She had saved him, as well as the entire planet, from certain destruction. Her identity, however, had always remained a mystery.

  Intrigued and slightly apprehensive, Joseph set his glass down and approached her cautiously. He introduced himself, his tone filled with gratitude. "Thank you for what you did back on Kawasaki Planet," he said earnestly.

  The figure didn’t respond immediately, her hood shadowing her features. When Joseph, emboldened by curiosity, asked her name, she finally raised her head and pulled back her hood.

  Joseph’s breath caught. She was stunning—fair skin, shimmering blue hair, and piercing silver eyes. There was something hauntingly familiar about her face, a resemblance he couldn’t quite place. Her beauty left him momentarily speechless.

  “Do I know you?” he asked, his voice softer now, as though in awe.

  The lady hesitated, her silver eyes narrowing slightly. “I hoped you would remember me,” she said, her tone calm but tinged with disappointment.

  Joseph blinked, her words not registering as his thoughts wandered to her striking appearance. Any questions he might have had about her identity were replaced by a sudden desire to charm her. He grinned, shifting closer to her seat.

  “Well, you’re definitely someone worth remembering,” he said, leaning in slightly. “You’re like the female version of me, aren’t you? Same eyes, same aura. Damn, you’re gorgeous.”

  Her expression darkened, a mixture of disgust and frustration flashing across her face. She recoiled slightly as Joseph continued, his words becoming increasingly flirtatious. He threw out promises and compliments, shamelessly attempting to woo her.

  “Pathetic,” she thought bitterly. “He doesn’t even recognize his own daughter.”

  She sighed deeply, cutting him off mid-sentence. “My name is Josephine,” she said sharply, her tone laced with exhaustion. “Or Josephina, if you prefer.”

  Joseph chuckled, oblivious to her growing irritation. “Josephine, huh? That’s a beautiful name. You know, it reminds me of my daughter’s name. But you—you’re like the perfect mirror image of me. It’s uncanny.”

  Josephine rolled her eyes, struggling to suppress her exasperation. How can he not realize who I am? she thought. Even the distinct way her hair and eyes shimmered and changed colors—an inherited trait unique to their bloodline—didn’t seem to jog his memory.

  She crossed her arms, listening to him ramble about their supposed connection while he failed to see the truth staring him in the face. Her patience wore thin, but she decided to play along, if only to push him toward recognition.

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  When Joseph finally suggested they “spend some time together upstairs,” Josephine reluctantly agreed, though not for the reasons he hoped. As he led her up the stairs to a private room, Joseph grinned triumphantly, convinced he had won her over.

  Josephine followed, her face an unreadable mask. She had no intention of indulging his misguided fantasies. Instead, she was determined to help him remember who she truly was—and remind him just how far he had fallen.

  Once inside the room, Joseph had stripped down completely and sprawled on the bed, eagerly waiting for Josephine to join him. His grin was wicked, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "Come on, Josephine," he teased, patting the space beside him. "Lose the clothes and let's have some fun."

  But Josephine didn't comply. Instead, she approached him slowly, her clothes still on, moving in a way that seemed both seductive and deliberate.

  As she straddled him, Joseph chuckled, amused. "Woohoo! This is fun and new," he said teasingly. "I guess you prefer keeping things spicy with your clothes on, huh?"

  Josephine’s stomach churned with disgust, but she masked it with a forced smile. She leaned in closer, her hands gliding along his arms before swiftly tying his wrists to the bedpost with a glowing rope that shimmered like molten gold. He chuckled at first, tugging at the restraints, but his smile faltered when he realized they wouldn’t budge.

  "Wow!" he exclaimed, his tone still playful. "That's some kind of lasso of truth you've got there. Where did you get it? From Wonder Woman?"

  Josephine didn’t respond, her expression hardening. The amusement drained from Joseph’s face as he noticed the shift in her demeanor.

  "What's wrong, darling?" he asked, his voice faltering. Before he could say more, her palm connected with his cheek in a sharp slap that turned his head. Stunned, he blinked and slowly faced her again.

  "You’re pathetic, Dad," she spat, her tone dripping with venom.

  Joseph froze, his eyes narrowing as her words sank in. "Sorry, what now?" he said, a nervous laugh escaping him. "Did you just call me… Dad?"

  Another slap struck his other cheek, harder this time. "Ouch! That hurt!" he said, his grin returning briefly. "You're strong—I'll give you that. But you must be mistaken. Dad? Me? That’s ridiculous."

  "It’s not a mistake," Josephine hissed. "I’ve been dropping hints all along, but you were too blind to see them. How disgusting—a father trying to sleep with his own daughter."

  "Incest," Joseph said with a sigh, his tone turning contemplative. "The world’s oldest taboo. But, let’s be real, wasn’t the world itself born of it? Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel’s offspring? Some might say God Himself started all this." He smirked, attempting to mask his unease with more jokes.

  Josephine’s glare could have cut through steel. As she raised her hand to strike him again, he flinched. "Wait! Don’t hit me! Let’s… let’s talk about this," he pleaded. His smirk faded, replaced with a look of nervous curiosity. "Why would you think I’m your father?"

  Her disgust was evident, but she spoke with controlled fury. "You cheated on my mother. Slept with women from one end of the region to the other. You broke her heart, left scars so deep she could never heal."

  Joseph blinked, stunned but still skeptical. He tried to piece together the fragments of his past. There had been many women, far too many to remember. Promises he’d made, lies he’d told—all of it blurred into one shameful haze. Yet, Josephine’s story struck a nerve. How did she know these things? Could she really be telling the truth?

  "Okay," he said after a heavy sigh. "I’ll admit, I’ve had… a colorful past. But come on, Josephine. Are you sure about this? How do you even know?"

  Her eyes bore into him, seeing through every layer of his denial. "I know because my mother told me. She told me everything about you—the lies, the cheating, the pain. And when I found you, I knew I had to confront you for what you did."

  Joseph’s mind raced. He knew he couldn’t talk his way out of this with honesty, so he leaned into pretense, softening his tone and adopting a pitiful expression. "Josephine," he began, "I loved your mother. She meant the world to me. And when you came along, you were my everything. I know I made mistakes, terrible ones, but you both were my reason for living."

  Josephine raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. He thought he saw a flicker of doubt, so he pressed on, embellishing his story. "I never wanted to hurt her—or you. My mission… my duty—it pulled me away. I didn’t want her to follow me into danger, but she insisted. And you? I begged her not to bring you into it, but she wouldn’t listen. When I left, I had no idea it would be the last time I’d see either of you. I’ve regretted it every day since."

  For a moment, Joseph thought she was buying it. Her expression softened, her gaze flickering as if conflicted. Encouraged, he leaned closer, his voice trembling with feigned emotion. "I never stopped loving you, Josephine. You and your mother were my world."

  "She died peacefully. She was a brave woman—in fact, the bravest I’ve ever met," Joseph said, his voice heavy with feigned emotion. He stared directly at Josephine, his eyes glistening as if tears were about to fall. Then, with calculated drama, he turned his face away, hoping to make the moment more convincing.

  Josephine’s response, however, caught him off guard.

  She tilted her head, a faint smirk playing on her lips. Her voice, when she spoke, was cold and sharp. "Nice try, Dad," she said. "But I see through you. You’re still the same lying bastard you’ve always been."

  Her tone edged with annoyance. "But that wasn’t my mother. That was Christie’s mom—my 17th half-sibling, who’s also your daughter."

  Joseph’s heart sank as he realized she wasn’t fooled. Her smirk vanished, replaced by the same cold fury she’d shown before. Whatever he had planned next, he knew she wouldn’t be swayed.

  Joseph blinked, momentarily speechless. "Um… what about the time your mother and I met during battle? Was it that?" He grasped at another memory, desperate to connect her story to one of the women in his past.

  Josephine didn’t miss a beat. "That’s Yukie’s mom. My second sibling. And, yes, also your daughter."

  She crossed her arms, her irritation growing as Joseph stumbled through more half-formed stories that had nothing to do with her mother. Each attempt only worsened her temper until she finally exploded, her voice ringing out with a sharp, furious yell.

  "Shut up!"

  Joseph froze, his mouth half-open as he started to speak. He snapped it shut when he noticed the transformation unfolding before him. Her once blue hair shimmered and turned a deep, blood-red. Her silver eyes burned like molten fire, and the air around her crackled with energy. An aura of raw power flared outward, enveloping the entire room in a suffocating heat.

  Joseph’s confidence evaporated. His bravado turned into panic as he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down, missy. We can sort things out," he stammered, his voice trembling. "No need to—uh—set the place on fire."

  The tension lingered for a moment longer before Josephine exhaled sharply, her aura subsiding. Though her power had withdrawn, her fiery gaze remained locked on him, brimming with fury.

  Sensing an opening, Joseph adjusted his tone, speaking calmly in an attempt to understand her rage. "Alright, I’m sorry. I just want to know… who’s your mother?"

  Josephine’s lips curled into a bitter smile as she finally revealed the truth. "Yukio," she said simply, her voice weighted with pain.

  The name struck Joseph like a bolt of lightning. Memories he’d long buried resurfaced in vivid flashes. Yukio’s face, her laughter, the love they once shared—it all came rushing back. His heart sank under the weight of the realization.

  As Josephine spoke, her voice carried the hurt of years gone by, each word peeling back the layers of his negligence. "You were never there for us, Dad. You left and never thought to visit me, my mother, or your other children. I hoped you’d come back, but you didn’t. You broke my mother’s heart when you cheated on her," she said, her tone trembling with suppressed emotion. "You never came to a single birthday. You didn’t even bother to know the names of your over fifty children."

  Joseph stared at her, stunned into silence. Her words landed like heavy blows, each one chipping away at the facade he’d built around his mistakes. His expression shifted from disbelief to remorse as the truth sank in. He hadn’t just wronged Yukio—he’d failed every woman he’d been with and the children he’d fathered but never cared for.

  Josephine rose, unstraddling him as the golden rope unwound itself from his wrists. It slithered like a living thing, curling into her lap and resting there as if it, too, shared her disappointment.

  Still naked, Joseph sat upright on the bed, hastily wrapping a sheet around himself. He swallowed hard before speaking, his voice soft and sincere. "I’m sorry," he said. "For everything. For what I did to you, to your siblings, and to your mothers. You’re right. I failed all of you. I…" He paused, searching for the right words. "I was selfish. I ran from my responsibilities. And when Yukio ended things, I… I thought it would hurt less if I stayed away. But it didn’t. The pain and guilt have haunted me for years."

  Josephine said nothing, her gaze still fixed on him, unreadable. But in her silence, there was space for his regret to settle, for his apology to take root. For the first time, Joseph truly saw the damage he’d caused—not just to her but to the countless lives he’d left in his wake.