Infinite Evolution: My Comprehension Talent is The Strongest Cheat

'Maybe it's nothing,' the Dean thought to himself, eventually shrugging. 'I should instead focus on the future training path I'll recommend the Crown Prince follow. That way, his full potential can be unleashed, and the next powerhouse of our Kingdom can be born.'

Meanwhile, among the sea of students, a prim-and-proper girl was the first to move. She walked out and approached the person that everyone seemed to have their eyes on as of late.

"Cinna Bonnella is the name, young gentleman. Could I ask for yours?" She unsleeved one of her gloves, extending an unblemished hand in Jin's direction. "Could you do me the pleasure of telling me your name as well?"

Her eyes were like jewels. Her voice like honeydew. Her face perfection personified.

Yet Jin couldn't care less.

"You don't know my name?" he asked. "That's quite unusual considering that I just overheard you speaking with your father in a carriage some minutes ago. What was the conversation about again? It's on the tip of my tongue, but I just can't seem to remember."

Beads of sweat started to form on Cinna's peachy face.

"Ah, yes." Jin slapped his hands together. "The conversation detailed how that 'naive young prince, Arthur Moonshire, would be so very easy to manipulate.'"

"A-Arthur, I can explain-..."

"Do not use my name as you please," Jin's voice cut through hers like knives to the heart. "I don't know who you think you are, sixteenth daughter of Duke Vangrove, but you are not in any way related to me. We are nothing."

"To me, you are nothing."

Just as Cinna began to tear up, Jin dismissively waved his hand. "Get out of my sight at once," he commanded, scaring away her along with every other youth who wished to use him for their own benefit.

After this apparent display of arrogance, the newly admitted students kept their distance from the Crown Prince. He was far scarier than they originally imagined.

But they only knew the surface of how scary he could get…

'To herd sheep, the easiest method to use is authority,' Jin thought while turning around, his scornful expression quickly transforming into one of indifference. 'In other words, they have to be put in their place, lest they get out of line.'

Jin saw very little actual value in authority or status itself, but if they could help him achieve his goals of absolute power, then he'd utilize them without restraint. He'd wear any mask necessary, regardless of his public image.

'I do not do democracy,' Jin stated as he made his way to the board that had on it his class number and a map of the Academy. 'Any other voice that isn't mine doesn't matter unless I decide it matters.'

After experiencing more than fifty years of life, Jin was no longer the soft, weak-minded boy he once was.

Although it may have passed in what seemed like an instant, he lived thirty years in Huaxia.

That was thirty years of him fighting for his and his Dao's place in the world.

Thousands upon thousands of lives perished at his hands. He killed so much that taking the life of another living, breathing being became second place to him. And by the end of it, he became a stronger person—both in body and mind.

Those who believed world peace could come about with a lenient, understanding hand were, to put it nicely, naive.

People like that were foolish, as no matter how hard one tried, blood would always end up being spilt. It was only a matter of whether or not you were man enough to make the first move yourself and bring about change with your own two hands.

If you couldn't… then it was merely a matter of time before you got swept away in the currents of matters beyond your will to resist.

Jin learned this firsthand through many perilous instances in Huaxia, before he first decided to found an Empire. In fact, it was because of his experiences that he figured out the creation of the Martial Dao Empire was the only way to both guarantee his safety and peace as well as the propagation of the Martial Dao Evolution Path.

The key to this grand Empire? The thing that made it run without issue? That would be none other than…

Fear.

In Huaxia, everyone—without exception—feared Jin.

They feared Lord Sovereign Yang Kai, the most powerful and horrifying entity in the world. The thing that kept children up at night. The one that forced them to go to sleep at bedtime.

And the supreme idol of worship the world over.

Was this oppression?

Who cared??

Jin improved their lives. He innovated, made sure everyone lived lives of equal opportunity, and even made it possible for them to reach heights in strength they never would've been able to achieve without him.

Even now, across time, space, and dimensions, they were thriving.

With absolute control came absolute certainty.

There were no schemes. No tiny-minded ploys. No inside sabotage. No rebellions.

There were just the people…

And there was Jin.

'It's dystopia without the inability to feel happiness like in the Main World's lower-grade planets,' he thought. 'The people are also unaware that it is dystopian, and are able to live their lives to the fullest. Dancing in fields of daisies. Having families. Pursuing their dreams. They could do it all—and all while knowing that above every single one of them was me, the absolute God of their existence.'

Taking a second to hear himself talk, Jin could admit that he sounded a bit… just a teensy bit insane. However, none of what he said was false, and though it may look like he has a major God-complex, he didn't actually care about anyone but himself.

One could call him a very selfish person.

But all people were selfish deep down.

Even those who devoted their lives to helping people were selfish, for they derived satisfaction from their acts of magnanimity.

It was just that for Jin, his selfish desire was—Power.

Everything else was inconsequential.

Even the Martial Dao Empire itself wouldn't exist if its existence didn't assist his pursuit of power.

Because in a world destined to burn, only absolute power survived the ashes—and Jin was determined to be the last flame still burning.