"You're free now"

Eight years past, in pursuit of territorial conquest for the empire, Caesar was struck in his right arm amidst a fierce firefight, from which three bullets were extracted.

Four years ago, in a bid to safeguard the Prime Minister, Caesar was inadvertently injured, a sizable shard deeply embedded in his right leg.

Yet these wounds paled compared to the torment inflicted by the noisy little sparrow, who clutched a lightning rod and bellowed through a megaphone.

"Caesar, my darling—"

"Father of my child—"

"My heart and soul, my sweet treasure, my honeybee—"

...

Never before had Caesar endured such intense, crushing agony. He would rather face the battlefield alongside imperial generals or engage in deadly combat with the most ruthless drug lords than continue to bear this soul-crushing torture.

Especially when, upon seeing him, the small girl on the lightning rod became even more excited, waving her handkerchief at Caesar like a devotee of a 500-episode primetime soap opera: "Caesa