「 ✦ Hajime Nagumo ✦ 」
Rimuru Tempest.
That was his name.
The object of our struggle, the record of our persistence, the shadow cast over every step we took, every enemy we crushed, every scar we bled for. The storm we chased without knowing, until we finally understood just what kind of monster we were up against.
It didn't matter that we'd survived the Hydra.
It didn't matter that we'd pushed past the edge of death so many times we could no longer feel the difference between numbness and victory.
Because compared to him, we were still crawling.
The Orcus Labyrinth was nothing more than a graveyard of the old world's hopes and delusions. And yet, buried within its depths—Oscar Orcus's ruined workshop—was a message left behind by the one who stood far above.
It was a simple letter.
Plain paper. Ink slightly faded. Left on the workbench like a casual afterthought. But the tension it carried felt heavier than the crust above our heads. I picked it up. Read it aloud, once. Then again. Quietly this time, just for myself.
Dear Hajime and Yue,
First of all—Hajime, I know what kind of man you are. You hunger for growth. For progress. For power—not just to survive, but to surpass. And most of all, you want to catch up to me. To stand on even ground, maybe even look me in the eye and say, "I've beaten you."
That's fine. I get it. If I were you, I'd probably feel the same. Hell, I might even cheer you on, in some twisted way. But let's not kid ourselves—
You're going to need more than grit and gunpowder.
Still… I'll be watching. And if you ever do manage to reach me, if you ever think you're ready—
Come find me. I'll be waiting.
-Rimuru Tempest
I let out a slow breath as I finished reading. That arrogant, smug, condescending bastard. He wasn't even trying to insult me, and yet it still stung. He hadn't written it to mock us. That was what pissed me off the most. It was honest. Direct. Unapologetic. And terrifyingly true.
I handed the letter to Yue without a word. She took it gently, eyes scanning it once. Then, with a small exhale, she let it catch fire in her palm. The flame flickered, danced, and turned the message to ash within seconds.
Her gaze lingered on the smoke before drifting to me.
"What now, Hajime?" she asked softly.
I stared at the spot where the letter had been, the faint smell of burnt parchment still lingering.
"…We prepare," I said.
"For what?"
"We have a beast to hunt. A tempest to chase."
She smiled.
··—–—⚜—–—···
「 ✦ Rimuru Tempest ✦ 」
Two days passed, and the royal capital finally came into view.
"Look, Daisy," I murmured, stroking the soft white fur of the cat nestled in the crook of my arm. She purred like an engine, tail flicking lazily.
The horse I was riding on snorted, as if in protest. I wasn't great with horses, but it was part of the image—everyone else in the hero party had one, and I figured walking beside them would ruin the aesthetic.
"Rimuru-san," Shizuku called out from a little behind me, the wind tossing strands of her hair behind her shoulder. "You don't have any identification, do you? Please stick close to us. We'll get you through the gates."
"Got it," I replied with a casual nod, though I didn't really plan on following any of their rules once we got inside. But for now, I'd play along.
We approached the capital with no trouble. Shizuku led the way, flanked by Kaori and Suzu, who waved charmingly at the guards like diplomats. Kouki was in front, trying to puff his chest like a true "hero," but the bruises still healing on his body told another story. Ryutarou cracked his knuckles and kept looking around like he was itching for another fight.
"You're lucky we're vouching for you," Eri muttered with a cool gaze, side-eyeing me with suspicion… though I could tell she was more intrigued than wary.
"Oh no," I said, dry and unbothered, "the blessing of the Hero Party. How shall I ever repay you?"
Kaori chuckled nervously while Suzu giggled. "Be nice to him, Eri. He saved our lives."
I didn't reply. I just kept stroking Daisy, who meowed sleepily.
After passing through the gates under their name and protection, the party began to disperse. We stood in a stone courtyard just beyond the outer market walls. People bustled past with crates, carts, laughter, and the sound of the city. The air smelled of spices, roasted meat, smoke, and the faint trace of perfumed water.
"Well… this is where we part ways," Shizuku said, stepping toward me. "Thank you for everything. Really. If we hadn't met you…"
I raised a hand. "Don't sweat it. You all did fine."
Kouki, bruised ego in tow, walked up beside her. "If you want… I mean, you should consider staying with us. We're fighting for the people of this world, and your strength could—"
"No," I interrupted simply, locking eyes with him.
As for why I don't want to help, I have my reasons.
"B-But you could be helping humanity," Kouki insisted, his voice rising. "You've seen how dangerous this world is. You can't just turn away when you have the power to—"
"I said no," I repeated, smiling faintly.
Kouki's fists clenched. "What kind of person stands by while people suffer?!"
"The kind who knows this world's suffering is orchestrated," I said. I didn't explain further. Let him stew in that.
The silence was heavy. Shizuku, Kaori, and the others picked up on the tension immediately. Kouki backed off with a scoff, and Suzu quickly changed the subject.
"Well then! Good luck! And Rimuru-san, uh, stay safe~!"
I offered a wave. "Sure. You all take care."
And like that, I wandered off.
Tall sandstone buildings framed every street, marketplaces buzzed with hawkers and musicians, and every step down the cobbled path felt like I was diving deeper into a city not too unlike a fantasy Venice—if Venice had magic and people with swords casually roaming around.
Daisy remained curled up in my arms, snoozing peacefully. Her presence was oddly grounding. I strolled past stalls packed with fruit, roasted skewers, bread so fluffy it made me salivate just looking at it… and not once did I pay.
Gluttony.
My unique skill—one of my most treasured. Absorption without trace. I walked through the market like a ghost. People blinked and looked confused when half their stock vanished. I did feel a little guilty. A little.
"…Meh," I muttered. "Call it a taxation system."
I turned down a quieter road, licking grease off my fingers. "Alright, Daisy, what next—hey?"
Daisy suddenly leapt from my arms, darting into a shadowy alleyway. I sighed and followed her. The alleys of the city were a different atmosphere altogether—quiet, grimy, filled with secrets no one wanted uncovered.
Then I heard it.
A shuffle. A muffled cry. A grunted, drunken laugh.
I turned the corner and found her—Daisy—standing protectively in front of a trembling woman with clothes barely kept together, all white fur bristled as she hissed at two gruff, armored men. Adventurers by the looks of them, the kind who fought dirty and lived even dirtier.
"Get outta here, damn mutt," one of them growled, slamming his boot into Daisy.
She yelped and flew into the wall.
The world slowed down. My eyes adjusted to a different color. A deeper hue of red. A place where morality stopped and instinct took over.
I walked forward.
"Hey," I said softly.
They looked up—drunk, confused—and I let them see me.
One blinked. Then took a step back.
The other reached for his sword.
"Don't bother," I said.
He hesitated. Too late.
My hand was already around his throat.
"You hit my cat. You're going to die."
I tightened my grip. Bones cracked.
The other tried to run. I raised my free hand and with a whisper of black lightning, I tore through his torso. The alley glowed with purplish black heat before going dark again. I let the corpse in my grip fall, blood soaking the dirt.
A beat.
Then another.
I walked over to Daisy, who was groggily stirring. I picked her up, cradled her gently, and stroked behind her ears.
She blinked at me once before purring again.
"…You're okay," I murmured. "You did good."
I turned toward the woman the two men had cornered. She was shaking, her clothes still torn, but alive. I didn't say anything. She didn't either. I walked past her and out of the alley, licking a bit of blood off the side of my thumb.
"You really are something else, huh," I whispered, looking down at Daisy.
She meowed, proud and content.
We meandered through the city for a while after that. I let Daisy perch on my shoulder this time, her tail brushing lightly against my back as she balanced there like a queen.
The buzz of the market eventually faded as I took a few turns deeper into the less reputable quarters of the capital. Every city had them—the places where eyes darted away from you too quickly and doors shut faster than the wind.
I hadn't intended to linger too long. Maybe just steal a bit of wine, take in the atmosphere. But as I passed by an open café with worn tables and brass lanterns, my stomach stirred again (figuratively, of course). I paused just short of one of the corner tables.
Daisy flicked her tail in approval.
Then—just as I was about to casually swipe some dish from the open kitchen—someone slid a dish in front of me. A freshly grilled steak. Medium-rare. Juices glistening. Alongside it, three perfectly round sunny-side-up eggs.
"Eat," came the voice of an old man sitting across from me. He wore a loose brown robe, weathered but clean, and his gray beard hung just below a serene smile.
My fingers twitched. I looked down at the plate, then at him.
"Free food? That easy?" I asked.
The old man shrugged. "You looked like someone who needed a little kindness today."
"Funny," I muttered, picking up the fork. "Most people think I need a little beating."
He chuckled quietly and took a sip from a wooden cup. "Maybe both."
I dug in. Not because I trusted him. Because I didn't have to. My resistance had already kicked in the moment I tasted the meat. There was something bitter beneath the rich juices—hard to place, subtle. But it wouldn't matter. The steak was good, at least. Poisonous, but tender.
Daisy nibbled at one of the eggs, purring like she'd found heaven.
"So," I asked, chewing slowly, "you often feed strangers?"
"Only the ones who smell like storm clouds and blood."
"Hah." I swallowed, smiling thinly. "You've got a sharp nose, old man."
We didn't talk much after that. Just a few casual words. Nothing important. He told me his name was Ben, and that he used to be an adventurer before retiring. I said nothing real. Just nodded where needed.
Eventually, he stood.
"Well, I should be going," he said, stretching. "Good luck out there, boy."
I watched him walk off. Calm. Measured. He didn't even glance back.
Interesting.
He's the first one to assume I was a boy first hand, I thought as I finished what was left, scooped Daisy into my arms, and casually turned the corner.
But I wasn't done.
Five minutes later, I emerged from a shadow on the roof of a nearby tower. High above the bustle of the street. The sky above was clear. No wind. Just the dry warmth of the sun half past four in the afternoon. I found him leaning against a railing, gazing out over the city like a man who truly had retired.
Pity.
I stepped out of his shadow using Shadow Motion.
The air shrieked.
He didn't have time to turn.
The blade of dark plasma hummed to life as I pressed it gently—just enough to singe the fabric—against his neck.
"Poisoned steak?" I asked softly. "Kind of cliché, don't you think?"
Ben went very still. "I take it you didn't like it?"
"Oh, I liked it. But my insides didn't even flinch." I leaned in a bit closer, my voice lowering. "You must be out of practice. The years have gotten to you, aye?"
Silence.
Then, a chuckle. "You knew all along."
I let the edge of my sword get slightly closer, enough for the tip of it to make a shallow cut along his jawline. A warning. Blood dripped in small amounts, evaporating as it made contact with the blackness of my blade.
"Your eyes were too calm," I said. "Your fingers didn't shake. Retired old men don't walk like trained killers." I smiled. "Get this. Poison is only used by two kinds of people. Cowards… and professionals."
Ben finally turned his head slightly, just enough for me to see one of his eyes now glinting a faint emerald.
"Which am I?"
"You tell me," I said. "Were you trying to kill me?"
"No." He smiled faintly. "Just test you."
I considered that for a moment.
Then, slowly, I lowered my blade.
"That's one expensive test," I said, stepping back. "Next time, just ask for a spar."
"There won't be a next time," Ben said, stretching his neck. "Not for me, at least. I was sent to judge whether you were worth, I don't know, fearing."
"And?"
He looked at me, not unkindly.
"You're beyond that."
I tilted my head, laughed a little—the blade still crackling softly in my hand. "So, what? You're going to disappear now?"
He nodded once. "You won't see me again. But others will probably come. Better than me. Or worse."
"That's fine." I turned, shadows already gathering at my feet. "Next time, tell them to bring better seasoning."
Back in the city, I landed silently behind a fountain plaza, letting the buzz of urban life surround me again. I set Daisy down and let her wander to a puddle.
"You've got sharp senses," I told her, watching her reflection ripple in the water. "You picked up on him too, didn't you?"
She didn't reply. Just lapped at the water and flicked her tail.
A faint smile tugged at my lips.
"…Guess we're both monsters in our own way."
She meowed in agreement.
··—–—⚜—–—···
「 ✦ Ben Parker ✦ 」
People like me don't usually get names in history books.
I've learned firsthand that, in this world, if we're lucky, we get a quiet death. If we're really lucky, we get to grow old enough to pretend we were something else entirely. A guard captain. A hunter. Maybe an adventurer with a bad back and better stories. I liked that one. Rolled off the tongue easy.
I hadn't taken a job in ten years.
Not since my team was slaughtered by that damned Behemoth at the Labyrinth. My crew gone. My knees half-done. I told myself I was out. Told myself I could live on the coin I'd buried under that damn sycamore tree out in the southern fields. Told myself I was just another wrinkled fool sipping tea at cafés while the world burned quietly around me.
Then they came.
Three men, no faces. Robes darker than soot. Voices like water trickling through teeth. Claimed they served the royal family, but I've lived long enough to know when one's just wearing a crown.
They didn't threaten me.
Didn't need to.
Dropped a pouch heavy with gold and slid over a crumpled parchment with scribbled details. A description. Blue-haired. Gold eyes. Very young looking. A "singularity," they said—something the summoned heroes mentioned. An anomaly walking in their shadow.
The church wanted verification. The palace wanted certainty. Was he demon or otherwise? Or worse—free?
All they wanted was confirmation.
Just test him. Nothing fatal. Nothing obvious. See what he is. See what he does.
And for that? They'd pay enough for me to vanish again. Truly vanish. Maybe even buy back the years I lost.
So, I did what I do best.
I watched and followed from a distance. Noticed how he walked with a cat like it was a prince, not a pet. And when he passed by the café that afternoon, I saw the hesitation in his stride. That slight twitch of the eye every hungry man makes when he smells fresh meat.
So I gave him the steak.
Not out of kindness, no, never.
Just a thin layer of Nighshade Syrup—undetectable in flavor, slow to settle. Would've knocked out a wyvern's digestive system in minutes.
He didn't blink.
Ate like it was breakfast on a spring morning. The cat even helped herself on the eggs—though they were safe. Both walked away unbothered.
I knew then.
I knew the moment he escaped my sight, that he wasn't normal.
That's why, when the blade touched my throat on the rooftop, I didn't even flinch.
I'd felt him coming before the shadow shifted. There was no point in running. Besides, I'd made peace with death a long time ago. He just wore a younger face than I expected.
That sword of his… it didn't hum like metal. I don't know exactly, but the most apt thing I could say was bottled and sharpened storm.
"You knew all along," I said.
He didn't deny it. Just leaned closer, amused, but with eyes that held no warmth.
I told him the truth.
It wasn't malice. It was coin. I'm not a zealot. I don't bleed for crowns or gods. I was just paid to see what he was.
And he showed me.
Without needing to kill me.
And somehow, that's what scared me most.
He could've gutted me like a fish and left no trace. No guilt. No second thought. But he didn't. He let me go. Which means… he doesn't see me as a threat.
I watched him disappear back into the city.
The coin pouch still weighed down my belt, but I knew I'd never spend it.
No use buying a future in a kingdom this doomed.
The royal family thinks they've got a handle on things. The church thinks it's found the next coming of their prophecy. But if they push him—if they test him again…
He won't draw a blade next time. He'll draw a line.
And they'll fall on the wrong side of it.
Of course, I'm out of all that. No more jobs. No more tests. No more "royal errands." I'll fade like I always should've. Quiet and unnoticed and discreet. And if they come looking for me, I'll point them toward the sky.
Let them chase the storm.
I'm just an old man now, and I've finally seen what the end of the world looks like. He has a cat. And eyes that don't belong in this world.