Fang Che finally discovered how Dongfang Sansan hit people.
With his own butt.
And by giving orders.
"Turn around!"
"Bend over the bench!"
Then a duster meant specifically for flicking away dust came whistling down onto his buttocks.
It packed quite a punch.
Fang Che lay across the bench with a speechless expression. The last time I felt like this was probably when I was five or six... right?
He had never expected that now that he was a Sacred Sovereign—and in the Guardian Headquarters of Kanke City, the most sacred place in the human world, in the office of the Eastern Chief Strategist at the very center—he would experience such a scene!
For a moment, Fang Che, who was being beaten, felt as if he had returned to his childhood.
"You father and son have the same shameless streak!"
Dongfang Sansan cursed. "Today, I'll help you change that!"
Only after swishing the duster down more than ten times did Dongfang Sansan stop. He sighed as he looked at the pile of jade boxes in his Space Ring, like an old farmer from some bygone era who had made money through profiteering but could not take it out to spend.
"Ow... It hurts to death..." Fang Che stood up, his face twisted as he clutched his butt. "Being a spy isn't easy. I get beaten by both sides..."
"All right. Stop pretending. How could a few swats hurt you, the dignified number-one Sacred Sovereign under Heaven?"
Dongfang Sansan sighed.
He looked at the duster in his hand with some regret.
How had he actually brought himself to hit him?
Although this boy truly was asking for it, there was also the Eastern Chief Strategist's image to consider...
Before he knew it, something had appeared in his hand. Fang Che's voice