James's POV
The Emperor had been exactly as easy to manipulate as I predicted—no, easier. It was almost insulting how little effort it took. Laughably easy. I hadn't needed clever traps, layered lies, or even a well-constructed narrative. I barely nudged him, and he marched forward on his own, eager and obedient, like a dog chasing a treat it didn't even understand.
There was something genuinely wrong with how his mind worked. Or rather, how it didn't.
His thinking was shallow to the point of absurdity. Childish. Crude. Blunt. There were only three things that occupied space inside that hollow skull of his, and he had proudly announced them himself without the slightest hint of shame: land, money, and women. That was it. Nothing else. No legacy, no ideology, no long-term vision. Just accumulation. Ownership. Indulgence.
Typical of an emperor like him, really. Almost stereotypical.
