The world exploded.
The nobles who stood above the entire world, the Celestial Dragons, all died mysterious deaths in a single day.
Four of the Five Elders, the leaders of the World Government, were found brutally slain in the Room of Authority.
The last one apparently hadn't fit in at all. He died outside, possibly because the others had excluded him.
Was this a collapse of morality, or had heaven finally opened its eyes?
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Everyone who read the paper did the same thing.
They rubbed their eyes.
They simply couldn't believe this was fucking real.
Unfortunately, words might lie, but photographs didn't.
They didn't know whether every last Celestial Dragon was dead, but a great many certainly were.
And their deaths had been horrific.
Some of the photographs were enough to ruin anyone's appetite.
But the common people didn't care.
Those photographs filled their hearts with satisfaction.
The kings of the affiliated nations and the nobles saw things differently.
Whether the Celestial Dragons died didn't matter, but if the Five Elders were dead, didn't that fucking mean the World Government was finished?
Who would protect their interests now?
Should their nations even remain affiliated?
What's more, the paper claimed that the person responsible was a traitor to the World Government.
But could a mere traitor really pull off something this huge?
Who the fuck would believe that?
The timing was far too convenient.
The uproar over Enma Randall being declared wanted a few days earlier still hadn't fucking died down.
It was hard not to connect the two.
Some affiliated nations were anxious, but others were overjoyed.
They'd long wanted to stop paying the heavenly tribute. Wouldn't it be better to keep that money and enjoy it themselves?
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