Dad, My Butt Hurts

"What, it's only a Monster Emperor Painting. Is it really that difficult?"

Lu Bei raised an eyebrow. "Don't feel troubled. We're all brothers here. If you're troubled, I'll be troubled too."

As he spoke, he weighed the Jade Slip in his hand again.

Some monsters were still alive, but on a social level, they had already died, reduced to jokes exchanged over tea.

Even more terrifying was when both society and the body died, yet one's stench lingered for ten thousand years after death.

More terrifying still was when the son got dragged into it too.

Vermilion Bird was a dignified monster king, carrying the hopes of the Peacock Tribe and harboring lofty ambitions. He had set his sights on the position of Monster Emperor. He did not want to die without value, much less become a laughingstock after death.

Thus, under Lu Bei's speechless gaze, Vermilion Bird cheerfully handed over the Monster Emperor Painting.

That easily? Could you be playing some trick, kid?

Lu Bei did not believe it. He took the Monster Emperor Painting, carefully lifted one corner, and let Azure Dragon inspect it.

"Looking is enough. Don't touch it. If you alarm His Majesty the Monster Emperor, a human like you won't be able to bear the consequences." Lu Bei gave Azure Dragon no chance to touch the Monster Emperor Painting and had her inspect it from a distance.

Azure Dragon was utterly speechless. Purple light shone between her brows. Unless something unexpected had happened, the Monster Emperor Painting was genuine—a true original.

A painting could be faked, but the Monster Emperor's will could not. No one beneath Heaven possessed such ability.

The question remained: it had been so easy. Could Vermilion Bird really be playing a trick?

Azure Dragon regarded Vermilion Bird with suspicion. "The Monster