Better Let the Phoenician Stay a Widower!

The reason little quirks were called little quirks was that they weren't meant to see the light of day.

Take readers who were really into cross-dressing and liked sneaking around the house in little skirts. It might just be a personal hobby, but if they forgot to lock the door and got gawked at by their relatives during New Year, that wouldn't just be social death. They'd have to move to another planet.

Ever since Malice showed up and siphoned off a share of his divine power, the Emperor had used the Legion of the Damned as a conduit for faith to break through the afterlife resurrection circuit. At long last, he could live openly as a person and stride around on those peerlessly beautiful legs of his.

Still, to keep the news under wraps, the Emperor left his true body on the Golden Toilet. As long as the toilet wasn't running, he wouldn't have to suffer that torment. Meanwhile, he uploaded his consciousness into an avatar to enjoy the leisurely life he deserved.

At first, seeing Malice take over his place in the family had left the Emperor a little upset. But once he realized he could finally slack off, the Emperor truly became a Yellow Weasel.

After all, at heart, the Emperor was just an asocial shut-in. If someone else could carry the banner for him, he'd be grinning in his sleep.

Whether the Primarchs rebelled or not, it made little difference. He could always crush them by force, and officially they were still loyal to him. Worst case, he'd just become Malice's junior partner. It was all for humanity's revival, so it was nothing to be ashamed of!

And after nearly a thousand years of online training, the Emperor had become a master of internet flame wars.