Evolution of the Ruined Heir

The second child of Mamush Sanguine, district head of the southern region of the Vein District, wore a deep frown the moment he stepped into the bar.

It was a rowdy affair, filled with countless drunks and prostitutes hoping for a good time. To him, the entire place was disgusting. Someone of his distinguished status stepping foot in a place like this, it was humiliating.

’Just swallow it. You need the bastard for what comes next.’

Moving deeper into the bar, he fixed a prostitute approaching him with what she probably considered a sexy smile with a death glare, sending her promptly on her way. Then, his eyes swept across the bar, quickly spotting his target.

It was a man of imposing build, his hair shaved so low he seemed almost bald. Though, Dune could still make out the bright crimson color through the short strands and his eyebrows. A Sanguine.

He was dressed in a bright orange two-piece tracksuit, with a large golden chain hanging around his neck. His wide grin revealed rows of diamond-plated teeth, while countless tattoos traced across his exposed skin.

Laughing without a care as he stuffed folded money into the clothes of the strippers dancing around him, he looked more like the lackey of some drug dealer than anything else.

However, Dune, who had only just formed his seventh node, could feel the oppressive amount of Vita oozing from him. Beneath that ridiculous appearance was something dangerous, like a beast that could lash out at a moment’s notice.

It was to be expected. After all, as far as Dune could tell, this man was a high-ranking member of the Maugrim, an elite organization focused on espionage, information gathering, and assassination. The first time they met, Dune had made the unfortunate mistake of underestimating him, a mistake he had paid dearly for.

Feeling the man’s power pressing down on him, Dune gritted his teeth and swallowed his grievances. Closing the distance, he cleared his throat loudly enough to catch the man’s attention. The man turned toward him, and upon seeing who it was, his grin widened.

"Ah, there he is! Little dude finally decided to show up. What took you so long?"

"I was delayed."

"Ah..." The man nodded, then casually gestured toward one of the strippers. "Want one? They’re all nice and plump. Great for relieving stress."

Dune’s expression twisted in disgust, but he quickly suppressed it, staring at the man as he tried to keep his anger at bay. "I’m fine. I’d rather we get on with our business."

"Ah, what a shame. You don’t know what you’re missing." The man suddenly waved, and in an instant, the strippers nodded and hastily cleared out, leaving only the two of them at the table.

Another wave, and the loud music and bawling shouts of the bar faded away. Dune didn’t need to check to know that a barrier had been formed around them.

The power of a Bloom.

"Now then." The man fixed Dune with a stare. His smile was gone, and somehow, every trace of his relaxed demeanor had vanished with it, replaced entirely by a silent, cold gaze. "What does our little prince want this time?"

Dune clenched his fist beneath the table, trying to hold himself steady.

"...I want to know what the hell is taking so long. My father should have stepped down by now. I’m supposed to be the new district head. You promised me—"

"Relax, little prince. Everything’s moving along nicely. Just keep doing your part, and you’ll be sitting in your daddy’s chair before you know it."

"That’s what you said a month ago. Things are escalating, and fast. Do you even know the Sovereign himself has ordered someone to investigate this? He’s already—"

"You mean that Ninth Vein? Uh... Malakai, right?" The man leaned back, not a trace of worry on his face. "I hear the kid’s talented, sure, but come on. He’s fourteen. What’s he gonna do, investigate us between breakfast and bedtime? You’re shitting yourself over nothing."

Dune did not immediately respond, his mind replaying his meeting with Malakai. He was almost a decade older than the boy, but somehow, there was something about Malakai that rubbed him the wrong way, something he just couldn’t quite put his finger on.

"Still..." Dune said after a moment. "Too many eyes are on this. What if we get caught? It’s taking too long, and every day this drags on makes it more dangerous. So just do your fucking job and fulfill your promise—"

"Ahh, I’m getting really tired of your shit."

Dune froze as the man’s oppressive aura suddenly descended on him, locking him in place. The moment he met the man’s eyes, his body began trembling without him even realizing it.

"Listen carefully, you little piece of shit, because I’m only going to explain this once. I think you’ve gotten confused about what exactly we are. This isn’t a partnership. Hell, this isn’t even some master-subordinate arrangement. You are a dog. I am your king. When I tell you to sit, you sit. When I tell you to roll over, you roll over. And when I tell you to bark, what do you do? You fucking bark. Are we clear?"

As the weight of the aura increased, Dune forced out a barely audible yes. The man frowned, and Dune barely had time to react before his chair shattered beneath him, sending him face-first into the ground.

"Hmm? Couldn’t hear ya down there. What was that?"

"Y-yes," he barely choked out.

"Hm. Good boy. Alright then... bark."

Dune’s eyes widened. His face twisted in humiliation, but after a moment, he gritted his teeth.

"Woof."

"Oh, come on. Put some heart into it."

"WOOF!"

The man nodded, a pleased smile spreading across his face. As the aura finally vanished, Dune shakily pushed himself back to his feet, his head groggy and disoriented.

His chair was already in pieces, leaving him with nowhere to sit, and before he could fully regain his bearings, the man’s authoritative voice cut through the haze clouding his mind.

"See? Much better. I’m glad we finally understand each other. Now, since you’re so damn eager to get this over with, why don’t you make yourself useful? We’ve recently discovered that the quickest way to your dear father’s heart is through that adorable little sister of yours, Donna. Find out where she goes, what she does, who she meets, then report it all back to us. Do that, sit tight, and watch the magic happen."

Dune lowered his head. "...Yes."

"Yes, what?"

His jaw tightened.

"...Yes... master."

The man smiled pleasantly. "There we go. Good boy. Dismissed."

Dune stepped out of the bar in a daze, barely able to see what was in front of him. Even when his guard hurried over and tried speaking to him, the man’s words barely registered.

Dune simply picked a random direction and began walking, his feet carrying him forward without thought until he eventually found himself in a secluded alleyway.

There, he suddenly dropped to his knees and puked out his guts.

Raising his head, Dune wiped the remnants of grime from his lips. The worried voice of his guard pierced through the fading haze.

"Young master! Are you alright?"

The guard reached down to help him up, but Dune smacked his hands away, his eyes burning with fury.

’That fucking bastard!’

To be treated like that by someone else, it was a humiliation of the highest order! Not even a Vein should be able to treat him like that!

Dune clenched his fists tightly.

’Nothing’s changed. Not a damn thing.’

As the only son, great expectations had been placed on him since childhood. Mamush, overjoyed to finally have a son, had wanted Dune to succeed him and had trained him accordingly.

However, after Dune evolved, it was discovered that he had the least talent amongst his siblings. From that moment on, he had been tossed aside and treated like trash, looked down upon even by his own parents.

When the Maugrim man approached him a month ago, promising him the one thing he had always wanted, to succeed his father, Dune had accepted without hesitation.

But now, after being treated in such a humiliating manner, he was beginning to have doubts.

"AHH!"

Dune’s fist crashed into the wall with a loud bang. Another punch followed, then another, each one heavier than the last as he vented his frustration against the stone, nearly breaking the wall apart.

Eventually, breathing raggedly, he stopped. He drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, feeling himself calm down.

’So what? You’ve endured worse than this. You’ve swallowed worse than this.’ His jaw tightened. ’Besides, it’s too late to turn back now. I will become the district head. No matter what it takes.’

His mind made up, Dune turned toward his guard.

"Put someone on Donna. I want to know where she goes, what she does, everything. Report it all to me."

The guard hesitated slightly, but ultimately nodded.

"Yes, young master."

Stepping out of the alleyway, Dune’s eyes glowed with a cold crimson light.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!