DBS 42

Summary

Fifteen years ago, I died a heroic death while protecting my disciples. I worried about the children until the very moment I died, yet the reality I faced after resurrecting in a twenty-year-old body was horrifying. Our home had become a brothel, and my five angelic disciples had changed. “You are saying you are Master? Stop spouting lies.” “The younger ones were useless, so I abandoned them. What does that matter?” “I want to dissect you. I am curious.” While I was gone, all of my disciples had become scoundrels. Fine. A disciple’s wrongs must be corrected by their master. If they have gone down the wrong path, I will drag them back even from hell. This is the rod of love, my dear little bastards.