Chapter Text

-Prologue-

"That's why you should always bathe with your clothes on."

11 Tammuz, year 401, southwest of the capital of Lugunica, early morning, time zone (Earth).

Moonlight bathed the capital of Lugunica, tinging every street and building with cold, muted tones. Most of the capital's inhabitants had long since ended their day, while a few others were preparing to rest during the last hours of Earth time.

Like him.

"See you tomorrow at the same time.

"Yes, yes, yes," he dismissed with his hand as he finished taking off his apron. "I know, Clara.

No one knew his responsibilities better than he did.

"I'm serious, Noah, you can't keep coming late to work. This is the second time. If this continues, I'll have to fire you."

He rolled his eyes as he finished putting all his work clothes in his leather bag. The smell of cheap alcohol permeated him.

"Okay, okay. God, what a grouch," he muttered to himself.

The little bells jingled as he opened the wooden door. The darkness of the night awaited him.

"I HEARD YOU!

"Yes, Clara. I love you too.

The truth is, no.

He hated his job, but like any other young adult, he had to earn a living; one couldn't live on good deeds alone. At least his work schedule started at noon, which was much better than what his friends had.

Walking through the streets of the capital, with the sound of crickets filling the air around him and the cold night breeze hitting his face, Noah couldn't help but enjoy the little tranquility that night had to offer. The last few months had been very turbulent, with the recent death of the royal family and the tide of economic instability.

His life was hanging by a thread. Living on half-rotten vegetables, questionable for human consumption, drinking unboiled water from the river, counting every copper coin to make ends meet; it had been a miracle that he hadn't ended up back with his family in Karsten County. The small apartment he had inherited from his family had saved his ass more than once over the last six months.

Working as a bartender in one of the many bars in the commercial district wasn't enough to make a decent living these days.

"I'm home!"

He opened the door to his small home, noticing that the candles he had placed to hide the fact that no one was home were about to burn out.

It looked like he would have to go out first thing in the morning to buy new candles.

"Mauu''

He turned his head to look at his little companion in the corner of the room, a black cat staring at him with its characteristic piercing gaze and pupils shining in the darkness of the dimly lit room.

"What's up?" I guessed what he wanted, while at the same time encouraging him to come closer. "Are you hungry?"

"Mauu''

"Okay, okay, I get it. I think I still have some meat in the pantry.

He grabbed the nearest candle and quickly finished searching through the drawers of his small kitchen, eventually finding a small piece of meat. It looked fine, and even smelled of blood, but just to be sure, he ended up indulging himself by sniffing it with his snout. It was still good. He walked over to feed his little friend.

"Enjoy it.

He patted him as he passed by and walked to his bedroom to sit down for a few minutes. His feet were killing him.

"Ahhh..."

He sighed as he leaned back against a small armchair in his living room, enjoying the intoxicating and comfortable feeling of rest; if only he could enjoy that feeling for all eternity.

He looked out the window. Foliage and tree leaves covered the edges of the window like grassland in the countryside, clouds filled the horizon like a snail's spiral, with the cloud in the center serving as the epicenter of that image. He could still hear the crickets singing among the foliage growing between the alleys.

"Tara'' rara, tarara'' tan, tan, tan''

Unconsciously, he felt the urge to respond and hummed a forgotten melody from his workday, the clumsy song of a drunken, smelly bard.

"Tantan, tantan'' tarara, taran, tan, tan, tarara''

Humming with a smile on his snout, he wagged his tail from side to side. Slowly, he began to close his eyes; they felt heavy. All the while, he recalled that kind of nocturnal music in the darkness of the night. Enjoying and appreciating the tranquility of the morning... of a... new... day...

......

...

Clink!

Noah quickly awoke from his sleep upon hearing the sound of a bag of coins hitting the floor? He unconsciously touched his coat, feeling the weight of his hidden bag. They weren't his coins.

Maybe the cat had knocked something over in the kitchen? He hoped not, his body still felt heavy, as if he were bursting with alcohol. Still, he did it. Resting both calloused hands on the armrests of the sofa.

He got up from the wobbly sofa, unable to feel his feet. They had gone numb. The light in the room was overwhelming him, forcing him to blink several times.

"Hmh?

Looking around in duller tones, he noticed something that left him extremely confused.

"Is this a... joke...?" His tongue got tangled.

With his jaw wide open, he tried to speak, but his tongue wouldn't work. Only his thoughts flowed back and forth.

Bewildered, he could only complain to himself: "Why was I staring at the back of a naked guy in his living room? I hadn't even blinked!"

"Whoaaa!" The naked man waved his arms in the air like a mime. "This looks incredible!"

With a silly, almost childlike smile, like that of a child, the man slowly turned to look at Noah.

"Hey..." He raised his hand and greeted him with a big smile, smoke coming out of his mouth. "Huh, bro, are you real?"

The first thing Noah noticed when he looked into his eyes was that they were red. He looked like the kind of drunk who would try anything he came across. From herbs to powders of every color imaginable.

"What the hell!?"

For a second, he thought Clara had put something in his food as revenge for his constant tardiness.

"Grrrr!

His little friend growled from across the room. He spread his black mane and bared his fangs aggressively.

"Uuuh, this really hits hard," he staggered from side to side and looked at his little companion with confusion. "I'm seeing double... crazy."

"Who the hell are you?!"

"Chill out!" he said, raising his thumb and little finger, with the other three fingers bent down, and waved his hand in a gesture that only confused him more. "I'm just as confused as you are :)

This guy was high as a kite on hallucinogens. And he still didn't understand how he got into his home.

"Wow! You've built yourself a tremendous castle here, man.

Walking disrespectfully, moving around his small living room, showing off everything he had to offer the world....

"Ughh! Cover yourself up, you sicko!" A horrible image flashed before his eyes. "E-exhibitionist!"

"I'm on it, man," he replied cheekily. "Um, do you happen to have any clothes?"

"Get the hell out of my house!" He widened his mouth and pointed furiously at the door. "Right now!"

"Okay, okay! Jesus. You're such a wimp," he complained. How come this isn't the crazy Saturday I've been living? Or was it a Sunday? What year is it? Where was I...?

This guy had reached a new level of magic dust.

"All right, that's enough!" He walked over to his window. "I'm calling the damn guards!"

"Guards... you don't mean police, right?

Noah approached and opened the window next to his armchair. Ignoring the air that hit his face, he prepared his lungs to shout with all his might to get this weird three-legged guy out of his home.

BANG!

A cold sweat ran down his back. Vases and knickknacks fell from the kitchen shelves. For a second, everyone felt the ground shake.

"What the hell was that?!"

The sound of "thunder" echoed in his sensitive ears, leaving him partially deaf. Frightened, he wanted to move away from the window, only for a huge white flash to leave him completely blind for several seconds. Overwhelmed, he leaned against the window frame, vulnerable, for what seemed like hours.

Slowly, his dilated pupils regained color, allowing him to see everything in more detail. And the first thing he saw was: "Those... Those are my pants, you damn thief!"

And they didn't even fit him! It was easy to see that the pants were at least two sizes too big for him, barely held up by two hands. And that embarrassed him. Was he really that fat? He glanced sideways at his belly, only to turn back to look at the other guy's stomach.

"Come on, man, understand me. I just couldn't go out like that," he excused himself shamelessly. "I was going to end up with hypothermia in my balls, and they were going to turn—

Noah stopped listening to his ranting.

"...

He didn't speak. He just grabbed the first thing he saw (a short broom he used to clean with every day) and ran to hit the half-naked drunk who stole his pants.

"!"

Stunned, the crazy exhibitionist let go of one of the two arms he was using to hold up his pants and stopped the broom with that same forearm as it grazed his face. His pink buttocks were exposed.

Both staggered from the force of the blow. Struggling with rage, Noah declared, "You're going to stay here until some guard comes and arrests you, you damn degenerate!"

"Uh, yeah, well, speaking of which..."

A kick flew toward Noah's knee, unbalancing him and causing him to drop the broom in pain.

"Hugh! You bastard!"

"May the force be with you, brother!"

Imposing Noah could only watch as the bastard with his ass exposed ran to the exit door and slammed it shut. Never to return home.

"COME BACK HERE, YOU IDIOT!

He tried to chase him while raising the broom as a threat.

"YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE!"

He shouted without looking back. All the people in the capital stared at them wide-eyed and in total shock.

"Hey!

"What the hell?!"

"Ahh! He's naked!

"Give me back those pants, you damn exhibitionist thief!

 ––Thief! Guards, catch him!

 Damn Bullchians are stealing our jobs!

"Crazy son of a bitch, look here!

In the blink of an eye, he had a mob of semi-cats behind him.

"Shit, shit, shit! I'm never smoking five joints and drinking three shots of vodka before a shower again!

"Come back here, you damn Vulcan!"

"Excuse me!" Without warning, the half-naked man crashed into the crowd of confused people, dancing amid screams and insults, camouflaging himself in the crowd.

Although he didn't expect to run into a famous actor in the same crowd...

"Shit! This day is crazy! It's Sacha Baron Cohen!"

    "My name is not Sacha Baron Cohen. My name is Borat Sagdiyev, and you insult my country and myself!"

"What?"

Run, now.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

-A few minutes ago-

"Good morning... Karagay, bul keremet buy-medved edi, Whae-ere aem i?!"

Thus awoke Borat, Son of Boltok the Rapist, in the Central Asian Country of Lugunica.

"...Azamat... Is this –дара– Is this... We were in– [BURP] –Almaty... Film... Movie film, No?"

He looked around. He was in an alley next to an inn.

“Bagaaaatov… Where are you? We still need to film a scene for the movie…”

Azamat Bagatov was nowhere to be found. Looking up, Borat could see a shattered window. Evidently, he had fallen through it somehow.

"Wait. This isn't the glorious nation of Kazakhstan..."

Indeed it wasn't. Borat looked around as he realized he was neither in Kuzcek, Almaty, nor America. This was bad bad bad no good very bad day for Borat. Borat knew bad things would come. Glorious Prime Minister Premier Emperor the wise and honorable and just and sexy and savior of central asia: Nursultan Nazarbayev, did not tolerate failure in glorious country.

In Kazakhstan, failure meant money shoved up your asshole. It is not very nice. Failure also meant obligatory participation in "Running of the Jew" with money in your asshole. No good!

Borat trembles in his soul and in his asshole to this very day!

"...Nursultan is going to kill me," Borat muttered to himself.

He was supposed to be in America, the greatest nation in the whole world, but he was not in America. Borat put it together very quickly. America is towers and hookers and hot babes and money. This is no hookers, or money. Very poor лай жер Borat now finds himself in. This no America. This is... UZBEKISTAN!?!?

He had awoken in an alley. He had been sleeping after having drunk twenty Bely Medveds the previous day. Very tasty. Borat stumbled upwards and looked.

No bandits would accost him. He looked down and saw many footprints. He looked deeper into the alley and saw three men screaming loudly for some German. Borat cared not and left.

"THEY WILL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE!" a half-naked man ran beside him as he fled.

Borat recognized the Uzbek greeting, a great insult! That was the confirmation he needed.

"Borat is in enemy territory of a disgusting nation: Uzbekistan. Dickheads!" he exclaimed.

He began to approach a group of people arguing among themselves about "Subarus... and... Natsukis" to go in search of a big imbecile to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Borat wasn't interested in Japanese cars, nor in hanging women, so he slipped away from the crowd.

Remember Borat.

Enemy territory.

Follow the instructions in the PLAN FOR THE DESTRUCTION OF UZBEKISTAN, ETERNAL ENEMY OF THE GLORIOUS NATION OF KAZAKHSTAN

"When entering the territory of idiots... You must act like an idiot too!"

And this disgusting nation already has a new target!

Be an idiot!

-Part I-

"The Bullchians are invading us!"

Santiago, Chile, November 9, 2025, in the early hours of the morning.
Shortly before the "incident"

A young man walked along the asphalt on a lonely street. The sky was filled with fog and the sun was just rising, painting everything with warm, fiery colors, like freshly lit embers.

It had been years since he was last here. He recognized the streets, some buildings, the grass growing between the sidewalks, and the smell of gasoline in the air.

Brrrr, he watched one of the many cars pass by on the streets. Like an ink blot.

"The buses aren't running yet," he muttered to himself.

He had forgotten that buses didn't run in this area in the early morning, which forced him to walk further after getting off at the wrong stop. A rookie mistake, some would say.

And they were right.

Despite living in one of the longest countries in the world, and living in comfortable economic circumstances for the vast majority, he was never a great lover of travel.

"I don't recognize this street..."

That was, in fact, the reason why he had left early that morning. He was unable to clearly recognize old areas that he had visited only once or twice in his childhood.

Time had devoured his memory, leaving only colorful and vague fragments of the past. When was the last time he traveled? Four? Six? Seven? Maybe... more than ten? The truth is, he couldn't remember clearly.

The exhaustion of waking up early was killing him.

"...Where the hell am I?"

He was supposed to be close to his destination: a small restaurant, which wasn't open yet.

The jingle of keys in his pocket reminded him of his reason for going there. Summer vacation had just ended, and the damn bus had broken down halfway there; he needed a place to spend the night.

He was already close to his destination, a small food restaurant, closed for the hour. He still had his copy of the key from years ago, so he shouldn't have any problems when he arrived. In the worst case, he would call an acquaintance to open the door for him.

He adjusted the backpack he was carrying and tried to look around, only to be interrupted by the vibration of his phone.

"I didn't screw up with the directions they gave me, did I?

He prayed that he hadn't.

Anxious, he rolled up his sleeves and tried to take a closer look at his surroundings, only to be interrupted by his phone vibrating.

"It's best to use Google Maps."

Pressing the power button, the screen of his phone lit up his face. He moved away from the asphalt and leaned his back against a concrete wall, looking at the notification bar.

"What are you going to do?"

A Reddit post was on the front page of his notifications.

"...

He decided to ignore it; he had better things to do—until he noticed it was from Re:Zero.

One eyebrow rose.

"Should I...?"

Unconsciously, he looked around, only to find a deserted street with only cars passing by in a blur. With no one in sight, he decided to look back at his phone and check the time.

He was still on time.

Unconsciously, he clicked on his first notification to rest for a second. Google Maps could wait.

And boy, was that a silly idea... Still, I had to say that the idea was charming. I wasn't the kind of person who enjoyed reading fanfiction or thinking about fantasy for more than a second.

But that didn't mean he couldn't find it charming, on occasion.

He looked around for a moment, rethinking his last few hours in Santiago, wondering what he would do now, unable to get his bearings.

"I guess I'll take a break.

She shrugged and wrote the first thing that came to mind:

Truly a very appropriate and mature response...

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, closed the app, and opened Google Maps, entering an address in the search bar.

Rerouting...

"Was it really that close?" A quiet murmur escaped his lips.

His energy was at a minimum, barely functioning on inertia. He lifted his back off the wall, stretched his body a little, and began to take his first steps in a new direction.

He walked for a few minutes until something inside him clicked.

"I think I recognize this street.

A slight smile of confidence spread across his face. He had wandered endlessly through a multitude of streets, unable to be sure he was on the right path. And only through word of mouth from the locals was he able to make slow but steady progress to this point.

"Okay, I don't think I need any more help.

He put his phone away and turned left, walking down a longer street with a fork in the middle.

Smiling, he didn't notice a pair of hands pulling on his backpack, causing him to lose his balance slightly. A slight but sudden dizziness came over him, and he stumbled, almost falling to the ground, but he instinctively grabbed the first thing he could find.

"Shit!

he cursed as he felt a burning sensation in his exposed palm. The darkness of dawn suddenly enveloped him, obscuring his vision with a sudden change in lighting.

"Silence.

He heard a voice behind him ordering him to be quiet.

"Wait!

He quickly tried to turn around.

Click.

"You know how this works.

"Calm down! W-we can talk..."

The words stuck in his throat when he saw the barrel of a somewhat rusty firearm in front of him. He tried to back away and raise his hands, paralyzed by fear.

"Don't even think about playing smart, kid," he continued. "Drop everything you've got, now!

Gulp, he swallowed, overwhelmed by the fear that suddenly ran through his body.

"O-okay."

He quickly knelt down, placing his trembling hand on the shoulder strap of his backpack, ready to take it off; for a split second, he looked at the dirt on the floor and bent his leg forcefully.

He didn't hesitate.

"What the hell?!" Ahh! His cry was interrupted when a mound of dirt was thrown in his face, blinding him for a few seconds. Damn it!

BANG!

"SHIT!" A bullet grazed his side, leaving a momentary burning sensation. "Damn bastard, son of a bitch!"

Ignoring the burning sensation in his side, he kicked the assailant in the balls with all his might.

"AHHHG!

BANG!

A second shot rang out in an unrecognizable direction. Dust flew through the air, making it impossible to see exactly where the butt of the gun was.

"FUCK!

He quickly regretted what he had done.

BANG!

A third shot rang out, this time grazing his ear. His fingers accidentally clenched in pain, only for the pain to be muffled by the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

"Damn it!"

The assailant groaned as he bent his legs and both arms to his groin. Seeing his chance, he kicked him in the stomach this time, knocking him to the ground and starting to run down the alley at full speed.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!

BANG!

The sound of another stray bullet rang out behind him. He knew he should turn around and grab the gun... but he didn't. He just ran and prayed he wouldn't end up seriously injured. He turned the corner and miraculously dodged another shot.

"Son of a bitch! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!

His legs wouldn't stop moving. It didn't matter what he heard, he would keep running. Sweat was already running down his forehead, his breathing was agitated, and the echo of curses filled the alley he had just crossed.

"Come on! Come on, damn it!"

He knew he only had a few seconds before the man with the gun started chasing him. He had to find the damn food place quickly, or he'd be a dead man.

"Come back here, you bastard!"

This time, the voice sounded closer, charged with a rage that did not bode well. Anxious, he continued scanning the houses and shops around him, looking for something familiar.

BANG!

Another bang reached his ears, accompanied by another graze to his left arm, which the adrenaline muffled, but blood was already spilling onto the concrete.

 "Hugh! Damn it! Where?!"

Frightened, he turned toward another street, hoping to find an alley where he could slip away.

At this rate, his luck would eventually run out, and he wouldn't be so fortunate that the damn assailant would continue to miss his shots.

"Shit, shit, shit," his eyes kept searching for something familiar. "Where is he?!"

His legs were starting to feel numb, heat filled his feet, and his lungs felt like they were on fire.

He stood for a second looking around the entire street. Searching for something familiar; everything was unfamiliar.

"Tsk!

He could hear them getting closer. So, with no other choice, he lunged into the first alley he found and quickened his pace, trying to lose them.

BANG!

"Ahg!

Abruptly, he caught a glimpse of the silhouette of the man pointing the gun at him, only to see concrete flying and leaving him blinded. He didn't stop, even though he could barely make out...

"Wait a second!"

Straining his eyes, he managed to glimpse some extremely familiar houses. Joy and relief flooded him, like a castaway enjoying a drop of fresh water after spending days at sea.

He quickened his pace and dodged any trash or objects lying in that dirty alley, finally crossing into the light of the newly risen sun.

BANG!

He unconsciously ducked his head at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the alley.

BANG!

 He managed to dodge another bullet.

"Does this guy ever run out of bullets?" he complained to himself.

Just a few more meters, he thought. He moved his right hand to his pocket and searched desperately, still running. The jingle of keys reached him incessantly, moving chaotically among his clothes, until he finally managed to grab them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a single key hanging from a lucky cat keychain.

He could already taste his safe hiding place, he just had to speed up a little more and open the damn door handle... the rascal, oh God. No, no, no, no; a thought crossed his mind: "They haven't changed the lock... have they?" He immediately prayed with all his heart that they hadn't.

Because he may not have been a true believer, but at that moment he couldn't help but cling to anything that would give him hope. He really hoped that... it wasn't so.

"Come on, come on, come on.

He repeated over and over again.

Running, reminiscing about memories from his childhood. Running, shouting, and laughing innocently. Getting closer and closer to his salvation.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!

It seemed like he had finished crossing the street.

Despair returned to his mind with full force.

His idea was to buy enough time to hide inside the restaurant. Now that he had reached it just a few steps from his refuge, he hesitated. Would a few inches of metal and concrete really save him? The truth is, he didn't think so.

Unfortunately, he couldn't think of another way out; he failed to slow down, causing him to crash into the wall of the establishment.

Thud!

"Uuugh, shit..." he cursed under his breath.

His arms felt somewhat numb. He barely managed to put his hands in front of him to avoid crashing head-on into the wall.

"You won't escape!

He quickly threw himself to the ground.

BANG!

Just in time to see a smoking hole in the wall above his head. Despair gnawed at him; he knew he couldn't avoid it much longer...

"Is this a joke?! How... ahg!

He turned his neck sharply to see the gun begin to jerk violently. It seemed to have run out of bullets or was jammed due to lack of maintenance.

Helpless, he tried to get up in a last desperate attempt. He was far enough away. He had some time; it was his only chance.

 He stumbled and crawled to the door and leaned on the handle to pull himself up and stick the key in the lock.

He pulled his wrist desperately.

Click... click! Grrr...!

The lock had been tampered with.

"No, no, no! NO! OPEN UP!" He kicked the door hard, feeling his only chance slipping through his fingers. OPEN UP, DAMN IT!

BAM! BAM! BAM!

"HELP!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. "IS ANYONE THERE, DAMN IT?!"

BAM! BAM! BAM!

He kept kicking, shouting out the names of his family members, but no one came.

No one would come.

"DAMN IT!" he cursed, as he kept turning the key with all his might.

It wouldn't budge.

"OPEN UP!

The seconds were ticking away, but the damn key wouldn't budge. It was still stuck.

Furious, he began kicking the door, ignoring the injuries that such savage acts could cause him. He felt almost no pain, but he knew he was inflicting wounds that would hurt a lot in the long run... that is, if he got out alive.

The door wouldn't budge, so he kicked harder.

He didn't know at what point he stopped pulling the key and instead began kicking the door with all his might. But he didn't care anymore; he just wanted to survive.

THUD! CRACK! BAM!

The door finally gave way, and the impact sent him crashing to the floor again.

BANG!

He heard another shot behind him. At the same time, a bright white light hit him squarely in the face, blinding him instantly.

………

……..

…

..

.

''..What?

"What was that just now!? Where did it go???"

 "ЧТО ЭТО БЫЛО?!"

 "AH, KURWA!"

 "يا الله انا وين؟ دقيفه وين سيارتي!"

 "ដួយម៉ែវា!"

 "GET DOWN, MOM! IT'S A SHOOTING! IT'S A SHOOTING!"

A multitude of voices and noises suddenly echoed in his ears, coming from all directions. Unfortunately, he couldn't distinguish them; the sound of the gun had left him partially deaf, for who knows how long.

He looked frantically around him, only to see blurry spots; human silhouettes, he thought. It seemed that this time, the change in lighting had been more abrupt, and he could barely make out silhouettes.

Several seconds passed before his vision slowly began to recover; among the blurs that were beginning to take on color and detail, one stood out like no other.

He managed to make out what appeared to be a... marble fountain?

A water fountain that strangely resonated with him. He tried to look at it more closely, but he could only make out blurry spots and its silhouette. It took a few seconds for his eyes to regain their visibility.

The air around him felt extremely relaxing and pure; such a level of purity intoxicated him like the dew from a bottle of alcohol for an alcoholic. He looked up at the blue, crystal-clear sky, where a multitude of pompous clouds danced above his head and a summer sun rose from above.

The ground also felt different, without cracks.

"Am I... dead?

Everything around him seemed so strange...

He felt a little dizzy.

He looked at his hands, confused.

They were still covered in scrapes and even had a small cut on his palm from the crash less than a minute ago.

It hurt.

He wasn't dead. So... where was he?

...

"Brrrggghhh!

"A-ah!

Startled by the sudden noise, he jumped back. He narrowly avoided what appeared to be vomit.

"Ahh, what the hell is wrong with you!

A male voice shouted.

"What the hell?

"Move!

"Blluurgggh!

He was pulled out of the way to see the same person from before vomiting into the fountain. Who wasn't there a moment ago?

"Where am I?!"

He screamed hysterically after he stopped vomiting. His face was covered by a mess of messy, unkempt hair.

Brown strands of hair moved chaotically, preventing him from seeing his face. Although his voice sounded feminine, his slightly robust body was hidden under cheap, dirty clothes.

"How disgusting!"

A scream snapped him out of his trance.

He turned to see the man who was shouting, the same guy from before with the stained jacket he had taken off, revealing a black T-shirt with the words "ポルノハブ" written on it in white letters ending in orange.

"Wait... No... no, no, no, noooo!

He would have laughed if he didn't feel that something inside him understood those words perfectly; it was as if he had always known. The realization overwhelmed him... How could he read Japanese perfectly?

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Without warning, the wretch threw himself to the ground and began to scream as if everything of value to him had been taken away.

"NOOOOO! TAKE ME BACK TO MY HOUSE!" he demanded as he pounded the ground. "WHERE IS GTA VI?! WHERE IS MY DAMN GTA VI! DAMN IT! YOU SONS OF BITCHES!

GTA VI? What did GTA VI have to do with any of this? None of this seemed to make sense. Did he even know where it was? The last thing he saw was a white light that blinded him.

"Damn it!" cursed the madman, clutching his head in despair. "I shouldn't have stayed up watching Fortnite TikToks! Shit, shit! SHIT! FUCK YOU, CHUN LI!"

He thought about comforting him, only to quickly give up when he heard the nonsense he was saying. He was definitely a textbook Gooner.

Poor guy.

Well, the other one didn't seem to be doing much better: "What the hell did I drink last night?!"

Inevitably, their eyes met, and a question came to mind.

"Where the hell am I? Shit... Please tell me this isn't Peru, those guys probably don't know what a washing machine is.

"What?! No! We're not in Peru! This looks more like a bad dream."

Was it really a dream? He doubted it, but nothing could explain how he had ended up there.

"A... dream? How is this possible?" No. You know what? You're right." He raised his hands in defeat and tried to smooth his tangled hair. "I don't think drugs would take me that far, pfff, thanks brain, I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

A nervous laugh escaped his lips as if everything now made sense, and just as the situation was calming down, another multitude of voices were heard nearby.

"AHHHHH!

Another scream was heard near them.

"What's going on now...?"  His voice stopped for a second, unable to process what he was seeing.

"Hmh?" Piercing eyes stared at him.

The color drained from his face.

In front of him, a few meters away, a six-foot-tall man stood.

He wore a southern hat with two holes on the sides, from which spikes protruded like a crest. He was dressed in an elegant red silk trench coat, somewhat dusty, from which a huge scaly tail protruded.

 Underneath the hat, two bright points protruded, with an enormous jaw full of teeth filling his face and a pink tongue.

"What the hell?!"

"What's all this commotion?" he snorted, smoke coming out of his snout.

A lizard man. Oh God, a damn lizard man.

"Uh, I, ah..." I slowly turn to look at the guy with his face covered in tangled hair, and he points in front of him, trembling slightly. "That... Is this real?"

"....

The half-human raised an eyebrow? Unsure how to respond, he looked at the boy's disastrous state.

"Hey, calm down," a huge shadow loomed over him. "Hey, uh, it looks like... um, what happened to you?"

 The lizard placed a hand on his shoulder after observing the boy's still bleeding wound. A scaly hand brushed his flesh like the strands of a whip lashing his nerves; he did not moan in pain. Instead, he remained motionless, standing like a terrified rabbit.

"Can you hear me?

He remained silent, just standing still and trembling. He wanted to run, but he was face to face with the beast; escape was not possible. Watching as a cold, scaly hand touched his recent wounds. He could only bite his tongue, hoping not to die.

"I think we should go see a healer..."

"Ah!

His body reacted on its own and he jerked back away from him. Something incredibly rude, his mother would say.

"N-no!" he stammered as he covered his head with one arm as if expecting to be hit. "I-I didn't mean to!"

"Kid, calm down.

"I-I have to go! I'm sorry!"

She wasted no time and started walking in a random direction, observing the chaos around her.

 A multitude of familiar buildings filled his vision, warm, earthy colors welcoming him like summer embers, symmetrical oak walls.

"What the hell is that?" I turned in the direction of the commotion.

"Give me back those pants, you damn exhibitionist thief!

"Shit, shit, shit! I'm never smoking three joints and drinking five shots of vodka before a shower again!"

It came from far away.

"...Is this a joke?

He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes, looking back at the scene in front of him.

"What the hell is going on?!"

A man, half-naked from the waist up, wearing pants that were clearly one or two sizes too big for him, was running out of a building a few dozen meters in front of him.

  Meanwhile, a small mob of cosplayers? Humanoid animals? The truth is that the easiest way to describe them was as a mob of semi-humans...

 They were carrying torches and everyday utensils of all kinds: brooms, clubs, sheathed swords, mops, etc.

Each and every one of them chased after this madman, hurling insults with such voracity that even the most foul-mouthed would blush with shame.

"Come back here, you damn Bullchian!

Although he didn't know what some of them meant, it was obvious that he was very bad.

"Damn it, what kind of crazy circus have I ended up in?!" He heard someone else shout; they undoubtedly shared his sentiment.

"Excuse me!" Without warning, the half-naked man crashed into the crowd of confused people, camouflaging himself in the crowd. "Shit! This day is crazy!"

His voice could be heard, but his body was no longer distinguishable among the confused crowd.

"You won't get away, you damn pervert!"

A half-human with a panther-shaped knight's helmet roared and crashed into the crowd, not caring if he swept away the people who were chasing him.

A crowd of people stumbled at the suddenness of his arrival, many falling like dominoes. One after another.

"He went right!" exclaimed another half-human, shaped like a lizard and dressed in knight's armor.

When the half-humans inevitably came into view, many of them panicked and began to move against them, pushing everyone aside to escape the madness that was coming.

"What the hell is that?!"

"Move, you idiot!

"Th-this isn't real, right?

"Aahhh!

Others simply seemed to have gone into denial or flew into a rage, well, actually, it was the majority... The majority.

"Half-humans exist before GTA VI?! Damn you, Rockstar!!

The same guy from before exclaimed with all the pain in the world of someone who had been waiting 12 years for a game and had it snatched from his hands.

"We're all just as surprised as you are, buddy." A black-haired woman with green eyes put her hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him, perhaps?

"Aaahh, a woman!

"...

"What did you say?"

"S-sorry!" A slap interrupted his speech and another argument flooded that square, which looked like something out of the underworld.

"Listen to me, you son of a...

John turned away, trying to clear his head.

"Should I run away from here?" he muttered to himself.

"Run!" A man pointed to the sky and started running, followed by more than a dozen people.

Although he didn't expect an answer, he got one, but he didn't follow it because his gaze fell in the direction that was pointed out.

"...What the hell is that?"

He never understood what was happening, but with every passing second he understood less and less, and trying to make sense of it all was really giving him a headache...

A red trail similar to a meteorite could be seen in the sky, from which a smaller one broke off and headed toward... here?

"That... That was the sword saint?

"Look out above!

   "Watch out below!

 "SHIT!

He didn't have time to react.

"Up!

"AGH!"

He felt all the air being knocked out of his lungs in a split second. An unparalleled weight pinned him to the ground, completely immobilizing him. He wanted to groan as he felt his bones shake, but his chest could barely move.

"Ahh... my head," moaned a voice above him. "Where am I?"

Two shoes appeared in front of his vision, looming over his head and scraping his skull.

"Ahg! Damn it!"

He groaned through clenched teeth as the open wound on his ear rubbed against the leather and sole of the damn kid's shoes.

"...How did I end up here? Oh, I'm sorry!

The man who had somehow landed on top of him a moment ago rolled to his right and recomposed himself, clearing his back, relieving his pain, and beginning to say words he didn't understand, a constant ringing in his injured ear.

"Aahh, what...?" he said, unable to understand what the other boy was saying.

A hand was offered to him, allowing him to look up slightly. Looking away from the dirty ground, he saw out of the corner of his eye a bunch of messy stalls and a crowd picking up some gold coins from the floor. How did they get there?

"I give up..." he whispered, unable to even figure out what was going on. None of this makes sense anymore. I should go see a doctor...

"I'm so sorry! I-I don't know what happened! Is that a person?!"

In front of them, they both watched as a woman in pajamas appeared floating in the damn sky and crashed into a dragon fruit store, generating a huge cloud of dust as a result.

He turned to look at the boy who had fallen on top of him. He was frozen like a stone statue.

If people were brought here while they were on a plane, or simply on a second floor, where would they appear?

"Where were you before you came here?!"

The boy was in shock. He was slightly younger than John himself. When John was about to insist that he answer the question, he finally spoke.

"I... I was in an elevator before I appeared here."

Something inside his head clicked.

"Shit.

A single curse word escaped his lips.

"The girl! Is she okay?"

Someone murmured in astonishment.

The light cloud of dust dispersed, revealing the same dragon fruit stand stained red.

The reaction of everyone around was immediate:

"BY THE HOLY DRAGON!

"WHERE IS THE DAMNED SAINT OF THE SWORD?!"

"WHERE ARE THE GUARDS?!"

"AND THOSE WHO ARE HERE?!"

"THEY'RE HALF-HUMANS, THEY DON'T COUNT!

"SOMEONE CALL THE GUARDS, THE VOLLACHIANS ARE INVADING US!

"HOLY GOD!

The guy who fell on top of him a few seconds ago screamed in horror.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! CALL A DOCTOR!

But the realization hit him like a bucket of cold water.

"Did you say... Did you say Vollachians?!" he asked, his mind hanging by a thread.

"Yes..." he replied.

"Have we been summoned to Re:Zero?!"

And the question his mind didn't want to comprehend came

"Y-Yes..."

He ignored the screams of horror. Too stunned to bear any more, as chaos unfolded before his eyes

"W-Wait! Did you say Re:Zero!?"

The boy had said it too loudly, loud enough for the others to have the same realization.

And it was horrible. Because everyone who managed to understand what that meant finally understood how screwed they were.

"W-We should get together, form groups! S-Stop! Stop so we can get organized better!"

"This is not the time for that," interrupted the same disheveled person from before, with a glass bottle in his hand, ready to be used as a weapon.

"B-But what can we do? We're at re-zero!"

"Don't do anything stupid, kid."

"I have to do something!" The boy climbed onto a bench and took a deep breath to shout, "Everyone calm down—ugh!" The boy fell to the floor; a glass bottle had fallen directly into his eye.

"He who warns is not a traitor..."

John looked at the boy's unconscious body. He had to get out of there now. Turning around, he found himself face to face with the same damn madman from before.

"Ouch, that must have hurt!" joked the half-naked madman, who had somehow sneaked up on them.

"What? Haven't you ever seen a guy crash into the ground and smash a bunch of fruit, or another guy getting beaten up?

"You're sick,"

said one of the merchants who had been chasing him a second ago.

"But they're both fine!

"She's dead, and we don't even know if the other one is breathing!" he exclaimed furiously.

"Nah uh!" he shook his finger. "They're more alive than the parties my uncle used to throw on a private island.

Reluctantly, he raised one of the two hands he was using to hold up the enormous pants he was wearing.

He pointed to the enormous mess that was the fruit stand, showing a huge mess of crushed fruit and broken wood in the middle of it all, the woman stained with red and fruit, and then proceeded to point to the boy on the floor with his mouth open, saliva dripping from it.

"See? He's clearly breathing."

But people only saw a red stain and a child with a possible stroke...

"Wait," interrupted a confused half-human. "Island? What is an island?

"I guess that's how poor people in the countryside are," said another merchant in extravagant clothes.

"Weren't you from Gusteko?"

"Yes?

"Doesn't that mean you're a poor, ugly country person?

"Hey! I'm not poor or from the countryside! Ugly, maybe. But definitely not poor!"

"Denial is the first stage of grief, my friend."

"Fuck you!

"Yeah, whatever! Call a healer, we need to check if they're still breathing.

It seemed that somehow things were slowly calming down.

John crouched down toward the unconscious man on the ground and put two fingers on his neck. He was alive.

He composed himself as he looked toward the debris of fruit and splintered wood. A body was rising. It was the same woman in pajamas, while the naked man ranted.

The woman stood up slowly, with clumsy, stiff movements, like a zombie, moving her face unnaturally and moaning in pain:

"Huugg''...

It seemed that the blow to the head she received when she was taken to Isekai had left her dazed. Oh, maybe she had already been dazed, who could know?

Her entire face and clothes were stained with red dye. Looking more closely, you could clearly see that she had huge bags under her eyes, accompanied by bloodshot eyes. Typical of staying up late.

The woman dragged her body and brought one of her fingers stained with a reddish substance closer, and licked it.

"Hmm... It's just dragon fruit."

She looked in front of her at a crowd of people of all colors, as if an otaku convention and a dozen average people had met. She had no words to describe what she felt beyond bewilderment.

For your information, I'm not poor!" he exclaimed, raising his arm and shouting in unison. "I'm Monty Combs himself! THE BEST ROCK STAR IN FLORIDA, BITCHES!

"Wait a second, isn't your uncle P Diddy?" someone asked. "The one from the parties?"

"Who?

"Sean Combs, you know, the one who threw parties and liked minors.

"Ohh, you mean ███████ ███████?"

His deduction was interrupted by the girl from earlier, who decided to say a few words after composing herself.

"Hey—! Is that fucking Borat?!" A person with a suitcase in their hand started running at full speed in this direction.

"Where?!"

"CUM HERE YOU DIRTY UZBEK DICKHEAD!"

Borat kicked "Monty Crubs" in the balls with all the strength of a man whose country had been insulted on its independence day.

"Huuuugh! SHIT!

"Suck my balls, beacht!

"Is that fucking Sacha Baron Cohen?!"

"Who the hell is that guy?!"

Borat asked, only to be interrupted by the girl in pajamas.

"By the way, guys, I'm fine!"

"HOLY SHIT, A ZOMBIE!

Someone shouted in Spanish. Followed by a crowd of frightened people.

"Huuugh!

Monty exclaimed, his knees still sore.

"WE'VE GOT YOU, DAMN BULLCHIAN!"

And the inevitable happened. Sooner rather than later, the madman in the stolen pants was thrown to the ground by a gentleman.

"L-Let me go!" he demanded as he struggled on the ground, obviously in pain.

"Shut up, you vulgar son of a bitch!"

BLOW

"Aaahg! MY BEAUTIFUL FACE, YOU BASTARD!"

And a struggle on the ground began. Like two pigs in the mud.

"THIS IS ABUSE OF POWER, HELP POLICE!" he began to shout desperately.

"WE ARE THE LAW HERE, IDIOT, YOU HAVE NOWHERE TO RUN!"

"FUCK YOU!" he yelled as he tried to headbutt him.

"He's resisting, we have to neutralize him!" declared the gentleman who pinned him to the ground.

A crowd of people who weren't even affiliated with him approached.

"Gladly!" Noah, who had been slow to arrive but had a clear goal in mind, prepared his leg.

"Wait, what did you say?" "Ahh!" And he kicked as if his life depended on it.

Monty kept shouting as he was kicked from all sides on the ground. All he could do was curl up in a fetal position and cover his head.

"My work here is done! Now the next step... Get some bitches!"

"We should get out of here before more gentlemen arrive." The same girl who had silenced the gooner seemed to have said the only sensible thing to John so far.

"I'll follow you."

"You're not going anywhere!"

 A burly man in knight's armor blocked his way.

"You are under arrest on the orders of Commander Marcus!"

The phrase echoed like a clock in John's head, very simple, but it made him turn around, ready to run. All of this was becoming quite dangerous.

Just then, a few feet in front of him, a hand traveled to his shoulder in a blur of speed. It was quick and gentle, like a flutter.

"I'm sorry.

A melodious voice sounded in his ear, like a lullaby. He felt his body collapse, from his arms and legs to his chest; even his own neck was impossible to move. He couldn't feel any part of his body; it was as if the strings had been cut and only a terrifying cold remained. But he couldn't moan, only stare up from the ground.

Thrown like a puppet, he could only lift his eyes with extreme difficulty. He glimpsed a silhouette staring at him.

"Relax nya'', you'll be fine in an hour, Ferris would never do anything bad to anyone. I give you my word as a healer." It took John's mind less than a second to put it all together. It was that damn cat, with its incredibly annoying smile. "Relax nya''. You're just going to feel a little sleepy and— Ughhh!

The disgusting cat lost its mocking smile and fell to the ground, clutching its crotch. It had received a direct kick to the groin from a hero who fulfilled every Re:Zero fan's dream.

"Ha! I always wanted to do that, suck on that Feli...!

"Get them!

In reality, he couldn't hear anything anymore, the constant ringing in his ears only grew louder, and soon an overwhelming sleepiness washed over him...

Finally, John's body gave up. His eyelids slowly closed, leaving him in a state of immobility.

.....

....

...

..

.

Part II

"Questions"

11:45

Chrr... chrr... chrr...

The sound of metal scraping filled the cell, like the ticking of a clock.

"Come on, come on..."

a female voice murmured anxiously.

"Is he still at it?

"Fuck you!

She insulted him and then proceeded to raise her middle finger. Returning to work on her escape attempt.

"...."

Everyone around him just shook their heads and decided not to intervene.

"Some guard is going to notice, don't waste your time," he insisted.

"Did I ask you?

"....

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Now shut up and let me work! ... Idiot," he muttered at last.

He quickly resumed his work.

Chrr... chrr... chrr, the sound of metal clanging and scraping filled the small cell. Eight people watched the little interaction with boredom.

"Should we say something to them?" one commented.

"...Nah

Everyone dismissed the subject. They had bigger problems than watching a stranger try to escape from a medieval prison several meters above the ground. Full of guards and medieval knights, with magic at their disposal.

"What about the one who's unconscious?"

He pointed to an unconscious man lying on the only bunk bed in the cell. He was covered in scratches on his arms and face; dried blood stained his clothes, especially his jacket, which seemed to imitate those strange fashions of torn clothing. He looked like a stuffed animal abandoned in a shelter or a street urchin.

"I don't know... maybe we should wake him up," mused a man with his face covered. "What do you think, Nick?

Everyone turned to look at him, sitting on the floor near the bars. He had a black eye and his clothes were a mess. His black hair was flying around in chaotic strands and he had dark circles under his eyes from a badly interrupted night. It was easy to tell what time he had been brought into this world.

"I think we should..."

"Hey guys, what are you talking about?" interrupted a friend, who was holding an anime figurine like a trophy. "By any chance, is that... Capella?" Correction, he was holding a Capella figurine in a... not very pleasant state.

A multitude of wrinkled noses flashed in that cell. Everyone nearby couldn't help but curse their luck. Of all the people to be chosen, they ended up with the weirdo.

"Eww, get that away from me!" An arm's length was put between them. "And how did you even get that? They literally confiscated everything from us!"

The weirdo with the figurine just smiled mysteriously. And then he began to caress it with a delicacy that would make even the most skilled sculptor blush.

"This beauty?" he asked as he caressed it. "It belongs to Waffles. I just borrowed it."

"My name is Waflay, no... Waffles," he said from behind the bars, which didn't seem to be badly damaged.

Everyone was silent for a second. No one wanted to say that, to be honest, they both seemed equally irrational.

"Aham," said the guy with the Capella figurine. "Like I was saying, Waffles," she pointed at him again. "Which earned her a death stare from him." Well, she was coming back from an anime convention, and she gave me this beautiful Capella figurine if I became her slave or something like that. To be honest, I didn't pay much attention to it. But, hey, Capella, buddy!

He quickly showed everyone the figurine, it was nothing special. The most you could say about it was its obvious origin; as such, there were no official figurines of the character. And finding one was something you would only see from someone who was a fan of the series, putting in hours and hours of effort. All to end up in the hands of a "gooner"...

The irony that hard work was rewarded with a kick in the groin was laughable.

"Well... um," I hesitated on how to continue, looking at the questionable state of the figure. "We were talking about whether we should wake up the guy in the red jacket, right?

He pointed again at the man lying at the bottom of the only bunk bed they had.

There were six people in that cell, and the only minimally comfortable spot was already taken, and the cold floor wasn't a very comfortable place for them...

But before anyone could make a decision, someone approached. The same man with a capella fetish...

"What are you doing?

I ask someone.

"Oh, nothing important," he said dismissively. "All I'm doing is this!

Without shame, I pull the dirty bastard's ear, hard.

"AAAh! MY FUCKING EAR!

He screams in pain. He raises his head suddenly and ends up smashing his forehead against the fetishist's face.

"Aaagh! My beautiful face!"

He moaned in Polish, grabbing his nose in pain.

"Oh shit! I'm sorry!"

He quickly apologized, even though he was the one who attacked him first. He looked around and couldn't help but feel confused by his surroundings.

"Huhh!" He grabbed his nose with his hand, blood beginning to flow. "How will I conquer a cappella if my beautiful face is damaged?!" he exclaimed dramatically.

"Are you okay? I can't say you didn't deserve it, there were better ways to wake him up, you know?

"I-I'm fine," he moaned in pain, looking at his bloody hand. "It's just a little blood. Hell, I guess I deserved it a little."

He muttered through the pain, deciding to sit on the bottom bunk. Looking for a place to stop more blood from coming out of his nose.

"Damn... ahem

"...

The guy looked at him with concern, but at the same time fear. He didn't seem to have the slightest clue where he was or who the people around him were.

The first thing he did was look to the back of the room, where the light was coming from and the screeching of scraped metal echoed. The same woman was still determined to break the bars.

"Where the hell am I?

Many shrugged their shoulders, not in the mood to explain their dire situation. In the end, a guy with a turban over his face had to come out and speak.

"Welcome to the new paradise," he muttered with what little spirit he had left. "You are in a magical and fun world, in the wonderful pumpkin of Lugunica. My name is Mohammed, nice to meet you.

A hand was raised, accompanied by a gesture of false celebration. Ready to be shaken.

"Nice to meet you?" he repeated, slightly overwhelmed by the fact that he remembered the small but important detail that... he was in another world.

A sigh accompanied by a handshake was the response.

"Y-You can... you can call me John, I guess.

He wanted to sit down and digest the memories that his mind was beginning to review at full speed.

He didn't remember how he got here because he simply hadn't experienced those events; he had been unconscious before they brought him here, to a prison in another world, no... to a prison in the damn Lugunica.

He really needed to rest a little from all the information that had suddenly flooded his mind.

Unfortunately, there were no more "seats." The bunk he had occupied a moment ago to rest was now occupied by the same crazy guy from before and another man who looked uncomfortable having him nearby.

He could have taken the top bunk, but he had no idea how to climb up without asking them to move, so he resorted to dialogue.

"Excuse me..."

He tried to reason with them, approaching them. He felt a little dizzy and his side hurt slightly. He noticed that his clothes were covered in dried bloodstains.

 "They really brought me to another world... After being mugged on the same day."

"Huh... Did you say your name was John? Interesting, so I'm the second one, huh?" he asked without looking at him, his eyes fixed on a figure of Capella, who had covered his nose with a handkerchief that John didn't dare ask about.

"Second?" John asked, very confused.

"First, second. Those things don't matter. The only thing that matters is that you couldn't help but be attracted to me and my name." John and the others looked at him confused. He was talking like a retard. "Unfortunately, it would be silly to shout it from the rooftops, so you can call me... Noobmaster69!"

He declared, raising his fist and proceeding to kiss the figurine for good luck.

His mood and energy had been revitalized thanks to the glorious presence of the Capella figurine... I think?

"Great! Just what we needed, now we have an autistic person in our group.

A guy next to him grumbled in perfect Spanish with an Argentine accent.

 "Wasn't he already?" He couldn't help but wonder to himself.

"I didn't understand what he said, but he's lying!

After all that drama, he proceeded to put the Capella figurine in a... glass jar? How the hell did this guy manage to smuggle so many things?

"...Why did I choose to sit next to this idiot...?" he lamented in a whisper, still speaking in Spanish.

"Whatever..." John ignored the crazy guy in the jar; for some reason, he wasn't that surprised anymore. "Well..." He turned to look at Mohammed. "What... um... What did I miss?"

John's mind, though clear, still felt confused, and he had no idea how they had brought him here because he was unconscious, so he could infer that he had missed something very important to end up in this cell complex... They didn't arrest them for nothing, right...?

Mohammed shrugged and calmly explained everything.

"In short, they separated us all and put us in this kind of dungeon. Then they said they were going to ask us some questions about something I don't understand, and well, that was like, half an hour ago, I think, but I could be wrong. I don't have my phone, and it's hard to keep track of time here.

Unconsciously, John checked his pockets for his phone. Nothing. He rolled up his left sleeve; they had also taken his wristwatch.

"Tsk! Seriously?

It seemed that all the torment of his struggle against that assailant had been worthless. Since in the end he ended up with nothing.

Mohammed thought about comforting him, only to be interrupted by "Noobmaster." "Yeah, man, it sucks. I lost all my Capella porn, but hey, we're together! Isn't that more important than some stupid phone?

Feliz tried to hug his seatmate.

"Don't touch me, dude!" complained the alleged Argentine, pushing his arm away.

"Don't you know you'll never be able to watch Capella porn again without your phone?" he asked him in a whisper.

Noobmaster's smile vanished in an instant.

"We have to get my phone back, Haku.

"Go to hell, wanker."

Haku replied in perfect Spanish.

"We have a goal then!" he smiled proudly. For those who didn't understand, he said "yes" in Taco-Bellis language, nothing homo btw, it's a hug between friends, just so you know, I only jerk off to Capella :).

"That's too much information!"

And they both started a heated discussion about how "Nb" was a sick weirdo...

It was very clear to him that it was better never to hang out with that crazy guy or he would end up trapped in the same place as "Haku." If that was his real name.

In the end, he gave up on the luxury of returning to that old mattress. He walked to the other end of the cell where Mohammed was and a boy who looked somewhat familiar to him.

"What happened next?

He hoped that things had improved after all the misfortunes he had been through. Mohammed just gave him a crooked smile.

"Now we're just getting to know each other. The guys in the cell across from us don't pay much attention to us, but I'm sure they can hear us. I think one of them was called... Altair. Cool, isn't it?"

Mohammed pointed to the cell opposite, identical to his own, looking for the man.

"Yes, that's Altair, he's a nice guy.

Altair noticed his presence and approached the bars to answer.

"It could be worse, I suppose..."

A young man about 5'3" tall approached Altair wearing a black hooded jacket with a skull design in the center. You could see from his face that he was unhappy.

"Man, I think you need to stop being so positive. We're screwed, there's no other way to describe it. On top of that, we have other things to worry about, such as..."

"We're not going to argue about this again, Takeshi!

"We should let Subaru die! Think about it logically...!"

"NO! We're not going to argue about this again, Takeshi!

"But what if he's here!? How are we supposed to deal with him?!"

"Like a normal person?" he suggested. "Look, all roads lead to Rome, there's no point in questioning that anymore, Subaru. In case you haven't noticed, he's a real person here!

"But what if he's already taken another variable?! Come on, he could very well be on his way to setting the capital on fire.

"Stop being so negative!"

"And you're so positive!"

An argument quickly broke out between the two.

"How did I end up here...?"

A man in the bunk across the cell asked himself aloud,

"Most people agree with you, Roa, but this is the fifth time you've said that. So come up with something more original.

"I'm trying not to go crazy, Ramsi. I don't want to end up like them." A quick glance at the heated argument between Altair and Takeshi prompted him to write down how he felt. "God... give me back my phone.

"You know we don't have Wi-Fi, right?" asked a tall man with black hair, who had been quiet most of the time. One might assume that he wasn't one to talk much, or maybe he was one of those who talked too much.

"I don't care about that Loop thing! I just want some music, not these... complaints. Jesus.

John could understand that sentiment a little. Since his trip home, things had only gone from bad to worse. And to be honest, he would probably sit and stare at his phone too if he felt safe.

"Running away won't do you any good, face reality, man." Ramsi continued.

"Easy for you to say!" Roa replied with obvious anger in his voice, his patience levels really running low.

And another argument broke out there... The black-haired boy, Loop, slowly walked away. John could see why they were keeping a low profile, and he couldn't blame them; they seemed to have a harder time living together peacefully.

"Maybe we should just leave them alone..." Mohammed scratched the back of his neck nervously. "We don't have anything better to do right now. Nick and I were just... looking for something to do."

Unconsciously, he turned his neck toward where the boy from before had been standing. He had remained silent, and now that he could see him better, he could guess why.

"Oh, it's you.

"Hmh?" He turned to look at them, his reaction obvious as he recognized his face. "I'm sorry."

His abrupt apology left John a little confused.

"What? Why are you apologizing?" he asked.

"For you know what," he tried to explain with his hands, but it didn't work.

"I don't understand."

A look of discomfort crossed Nick's face.

"Look, I just wanted to apologize for, well... falling on top of you and almost breaking some bones.

John blinked a few times. Remembering the minor incident, which, to be honest, he didn't care much about. Being knocked to the ground by someone else's weight wasn't something that bothered him.

"Did you two know each other before?" Mohammed asked.

"We met under, uh, strange circumstances..."

And boy, was it strange. He doubted that anyone in humanity had ever met someone by having them fall on their head, as if they were a meteorite.

"Yeah, it was weird, haha. I'm sorry about how we met, I didn't mean to.

"It's okay, man, no big deal. We'll... discuss this later. Instead, I think we should focus on... Who is she?

He pointed to the only girl who seemed to be doing anything other than arguing or complaining.

"Her?" came a voice from the bunk beds. "Oh, it's just Waffles!

"My name isn't Waffles, you jerk!

Well, John already knew who she was. The problem was that she seemed to have a horrible personality, or at least an irritable one.

"Bah! It's the same thing.

"Are you a bastard!?"

He furiously banged on the bars of the cell, making them shake like metal rods.

"Could you please not make so much noise?" someone called from the other cell, one of the few who wasn't ranting like a madman.

"And that's my problem? It's your fault for acting like an idiot.

"I admit I was an asshole at first, but I'd appreciate it if you'd just let me rest after being tackled by a guard...

"You deserved it," Waffles sneered.

"Just ignore her, Phil."

Loop tried to intervene.

"Oh, here comes Prince Charming to save the sissy! Oh, how scary... fuck you too!"

Without hesitation, he gave him the middle finger.

"Forget it... there's no point in arguing with you..." Phil dismissed with a wave of his hand, then complained to himself, forgetting for a second to keep it to himself. "Not when you keep trying to cut through bars with those spaghetti arms. It's obvious you've never worked a day in your life and you're just wasting your time.

"....

"Phil, you've screwed up," Altair whispered.

"Come on, she's just a brat. What's the worst that can happen?"

Phil glanced at her. The well-built man wasn't the least bit scared of a grumpy dwarf. It was just that the problem wasn't a grumpy dwarf, but a dwarf.

The next moment, the world showed him how you should never criticize a woman.

"You look like shit, Phil! Your cell phone was a fucking discontinued Nokia 3310 with a broken screen, and you think you're so great for working and questioning me for trying to find a way out and not crying like a puppy because they took away our damn Wi-Fi. On top of that, you're poor and ugly.

"Hey, I'm not ugly!" he refuted. "Right, guys?

"Ehhh, define ugly," replied Noobmaster69, who, for the narrator's sake, will be called NB, because the narrator is a lazy guy who barely earns minimum wage.

Yeah. Who would have thought that being a fanfic narrator wouldn't pay much? Poor people stuff.

"So, maybe I'm wasting my time! But at least I'm trying, and not ranting about others because I'm too pathetic to look at myself in the mirror!

.....

...

..

.

 "What the hell did I miss?!

It was obvious that something had happened between them while he was away, but what had happened between them to make him react like that?

"I-I didn't mean to...

"Fuck you, Phil.

Phil ended up walking to the corner of the pigsty and throwing himself on the ground, so that no one would notice how he was almost breaking down in tears.

"...

"Waffles, I think that was too much..."

"My name... is not Waffles, NB. And I'm not going to argue about this.

Waflay moved away from the bars, putting away the file she had been using. Conflicted with herself, she had said more than she wanted to. She wasn't like that, but her situation and everything going on around her had been really stressing her out. In the end, she tried to bend the bars once more, but failed.

Helpless, she could only sit and wait in silence, giving up on her escape attempt.

Silence filled the air. No one dared say a word for fear of being publicly humiliated.

"Guys, does anyone have a jar? Capella needs a jar.

Everything in this place only emphasized the misery they felt there.

"Hello? Come on, I need to practice my moves, guys. Capella will be very disappointed if I don't put her in a jar and baptize her with my 'galea'.

It was truly miserable.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught everyone's attention.

The sound of a steel door opening and opening caught everyone's attention. The echo of footsteps could be heard from the unknown. Getting louder and louder, closer and closer.

"Oh, a guard... I hope he has a jar. Capella needs a... jar... Oh, holy shit.

Finally, two figures came into view.

The first was a middle-aged man dressed in a white and red tunic, characteristic of knights. His blond hair fell elegantly down his back. Some might consider him attractive, although he didn't stand out too much to those who had already become accustomed to the appearance of the population of that world.

But what really left them speechless was the man standing next to him.

Young, tall, muscular, and well-built. Light purple hair, long and silky. His yellow eyes, sharp as a hawk's, seemed to pierce through everything. He wore the formal uniform of the Royal Guard. The best of the knights stood before them.

Julius Juukulius.

"Sorry I'm late. I had some unfinished business with other staff members," he greeted them with a serene smile. Hmm... What happened here? This wasn't so worn out.

No one dared to answer. The shock was evident on the faces of several.

They had truly been brought into the world of Re:zero.

And there was no turning back.

"We'll discuss that later. For now, is there anyone who would like to volunteer first?"

"...

"No one?" No one spoke. I see. There's no reason to be afraid, but I understand. Kenji, please open the cell and bring one of the members. Let's do this quickly.

"Huh?!"

Nick, who was closest to the exit, was the unlucky one chosen to answer the knights' questions first.

All John could do was wish him good luck... and hope he came back in one piece.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

(Calm down, calm down). He had been repeating this to himself constantly since he was taken out of that cell. He looked around anxiously from his small chair in that dark room made of what appeared to be stone.

[Everything will be fine, nothing bad will happen, you're still alive and you'll stay alive, they're not going to kill you just because they suspect you crossed the border illegally, right? Right? Damn it! What if they do? What if they execute me? Or what if I stay in prison forever? What am I going to do? Shit! Shit! Shit!]

Nick couldn't help sweating profusely, his hands were shaking, and he was looking from side to side, as if he had regressed to the age of five and was trying to climb into bed with the lights off, afraid that a monster would come out of the shadows. All the while, he kept thinking about how absurdly crazy and horrific this whole situation was.

Less than an hour ago, he was walking down the street at midnight, looking for something to eat for dinner. He went into the first convenience store he saw, and... now he was here. Oh well, several things had happened before he got there, such as being blinded and falling for several seconds into an unknown place, as if it were a well. All of which ended with him crashing into a poor boy who was crushed like a fly. Then he remembered a bunch of gentlemen arriving and everyone running; he tried to calm them all down by climbing onto the fountain but ended up getting hit in the face with a bottle. By a strange homeless man who insulted him in an unknown language.

"Ouch...

Her eye still hurt.

Rubbing his eye, he looked around the room he was in: worn and cracked stone walls and ceilings, grayish, almost charcoal-colored due to the poor lighting. The floor could only be described as a dark gray stain, which echoed his footsteps in the darkness of a room that was barely lit by the light behind the door behind him.

Nick stood still and motionless, not knowing where to go or what to do. A multitude of shadows appeared behind and around him, like a dance of a crowd ready to execute him. The largest of the shadows was that of a rectangular table with a candle on top. At each edge, two chairs, each on opposite sides of the table.

"Sit down and be quiet.

A voice echoed behind him, accompanied by the squeaking of nuts moving. The light was fading, leaving him increasingly cloudy and difficult to see.

"H-Hey, wait a sec..."

His voice was silenced by a hawk-like gaze, barely visible through the crack where the light was coming from.

"Wait quietly," he ordered coldly. "You will soon be judged.

"...

After that, he left, leaving Nick alone and even more nervous. Nick didn't dare call him a second time, and just walked in total silence to the chair furthest from the door. He wanted to have a good view of the door and whoever would open it.

The seconds passed. Alone.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable solitude, footsteps could be heard in the distance. They grew louder and louder.

"Shit, someone's coming," he muttered anxiously. "Well, Nicholas, put on a confident face and don't show your nerves. It's just a little interrogation, what could happen?

For example, being locked in a dungeon for the rest of your life? There were many variables. Fortunately or unfortunately, those thoughts failed to invade Nick's mind.

The creaking of bolts filled the small room, and Nick stood up straight, sweating with nerves. When the door finished opening, he had to close his eyes for a few seconds due to the sudden increase in light. Only to find, when he opened them, a man at the other end of the table whom he would recognize more than perfectly.

Suddenly, the wooden door opened, revealing a silhouette. It was a man of about twenty-one, almost 180 cm tall, with purple hair and golden eyes. He was wearing a kind of white knight's uniform. Three colors: white, red, and black.

Shit.

Nick wanted to curse his luck, but he could only remain silent. He watched the best knight, standing victorious with perfect posture.

"Greetings, my name is Julius Juukulius, I belong to the Royal Guard of the Kingdom of Lugunica. I have been asked to question you, so I will ask you to cooperate with me a little to get this over with quickly.

Even his voice sounded elegant and respectful. As if he were a knight from a fairy tale... how disgusting. Nick was beginning to understand why Subaru disliked such an unrealistic attitude. People should act like real people, not like perfect, unreal beings.

"Excuse me, is something wrong?"

Nick opened his eyes. He had spent several seconds staring at Julius as if he were some kind of attraction.

 "Cough, cough... no, sorry," he quickly tried to hide his feelings. "Yes, um, I'll try my best, Mr. Juukulius.

A frown appeared on the face of the best knight upon hearing his response. Terrifying to the core.

SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! Why!? Fear flooded him to the deepest parts of his gut. Nick felt he had made a serious mistake. Why this guy of all people!? What the hell did I do? Okay, okay, calm down, you didn't do anything wrong.

Or so he thought.

"You seem nervous.

His toes curled. With every passing second, it became more difficult for Nick to remain calm.

"I mean, uh, um... shit." His mind went blank and he was left adrift. The only thing he could do was be honest. Look, man, it's not every day I get interrogated. Let alone thrown to the ground in the middle of the street and dragged like a dog to a cell where the sunlight doesn't reach. To be honest, I think I have a right to be a little nervous.

"Hm''.

A slight smile appeared on the gentleman's face, charming, like everything else about him. That relaxed Nick a little.

"Good," he said as he pulled a bundle of papers from his cloak. "I'm going to ask you some questions. Please answer honestly."

"Of course."

He nodded.

"Great," the knight's eyes scanned one of the many sheets. "Then let's start with the first question: what is your name?

"My name is... Nick, Nick Hamberson.

For what seemed like a fraction of a second, he hesitated to answer honestly. Something the knight could only note silently for his report. These things were commonplace in his work.

"Okay, let's continue. What were you doing before you arrived in Lugunica?"

Julius prepared to write down the first answer he would receive. One of the main orders Julius received when he was briefed on the interrogation was that he had to discover how so many people managed to overcome the defenses of the capital and the country without being noticed by anyone.

The kingdom of Lugunica could not afford the possibility of its enemies replicating such a feat. With the recent leak of the royal family's death to the general public, it was only a matter of time before other nations found out about it. And none of the houses that led the nation trusted their neighbors in the slightest.

"Well..." Julius mentally prepared himself to start pressing. "The truth is, I'm not sure, man. I just went out to buy something I wanted, and then, boom! Here I am. In fact, I could have sworn it was nighttime... What time is it here?"

Julius's hand trembled. He thought he had heard wrong.

"Excuse me," he had to make sure he heard correctly. "Can you repeat what you said?

"About what? A second ago it was night?

A slight sweat ran down Julius' gloves. He doubted for a second that they were lying to him, only to confirm thanks to the seals and their spirits that they were not lying.

"Okay... thank you."

It seemed that the situation was much more dangerous than Commander Marcos and the council of elders had thought. The only possibilities that came to Julius' mind painted a rather bleak picture.

They had just signed a peace treaty with Vollachia less than four months ago, which raised an eyebrow among their neighbors, as it would not be the first or last time that the Holy Empire of Vollachia had attempted some kind of attack behind the scenes. But Julius seriously doubted that idea. He had met Emperor Vincent firsthand, and he did not seem like the kind of person who would break a treaty without a good reason.

Gusteko continued with a policy of closed borders, and the news of the political situation remained calm and quiet, like winter. Kararagi was the same, which left only one candidate who could have the resources and reasons to generate such a display of unbridled and senseless chaos: the witch cult.

Unrestrained, sadistic, insane, hypocritical, barbaric, vile, bloodthirsty, evil to the core. There were endless nicknames and descriptions for that band of madmen who worshipped the devil himself as a savior angel.

Hated by all and loved by none. Julius wished with all his heart that those beasts in human skin would disappear, to be punished for their crimes for all eternity. But... none of their leaders had been captured or killed in over 50 years.

Worse still, myths and tales circulated that they possessed abilities beyond conventional magic, controlling the very miasma of the devil, like a sword made of evil that flayed ordinary people. Nonsense, many would think.

But Julius and many knights had their doubts. The texts and scarce reports left room for doubt about how real all those tales were. For centuries, no logical ways had been found to create the same effects recounted in stories about those beasts called Archbishops.

Unknown. Incoherent. This made it even more difficult to generate protections against a new case, such as the one the entire capital was experiencing. Glancing sideways at the young man in front of him, Julius could only take notes of the conversation. He hoped his superiors would find better answers to the chaotic event.

"Next question, what is your intention in Lugunica?

"Intent?

A look of confusion appeared on Nick's face.

"Yes, intention.

"Well... the truth is, I have no idea. I just got here or something. I'm not really sure... although, to be honest, I think if there was a way to go home, I would take it. I'm not really interested in being here.

Be honest, Nick, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. This whole situation had been too sudden, and to be honest, being transported to another world sucked.

"Mmm... okay," I methodically wrote everything down, accompanied by the subject's changing expressions.

The truth is that Julius was beginning to doubt whether this interrogation would really serve any purpose.

"Next question: What nation do you belong to?"

Julius hoped he would never have to set foot on wolf territory again. He felt that if something went wrong, the small peace he had worked so hard to create alongside his companions would collapse like a house of cards. To step into the fire of war.

"Nation?" he murmured, resting a finger on his chin. "Ah! Yes, the nation. The nation I came from when I lived before coming here. It was..." He hesitated. "Vollachia."

Julius's face paled.

A heavy frown filled his face for a split second. All in the eyes of Nick, who began to curse to himself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. I'm so stupid, stupid fool, I'm so stupid. The idiot had realized too late that mentioning the name of a nation especially hated in Lugunica was not a good idea. It was practically like telling a Frenchman from the 15th century that you were a witch. Anger and xenophobia were the least of his worries now.

"... Okay," in a split second Julius recovered, as if none of his fears had ever existed. Last question: do you have any connections or information about people suddenly appearing in the city?

In the last few hours, not only had people rained down from the sky, but people of all ages and colors had filled the capital in all kinds of places: from rooftops, houses, rivers, roads, churches, tree tops, even the royal palace itself. Needless to say, that idiot didn't live to cut it.

"Hm? No, not really.

Complicated, Julius thought.

"Are you sure about that?" he insisted, forcing an elegant but sharp look at Nick. As if it were a ceremonial sword.

"Yes, I don't know anything you're talking about.

"Mmm," the gentleman was disappointed. "Okay, then that's it."

Julius didn't pursue the matter and got up from his chair, putting away his briefcase. Nick had to blink several times, bewildered by how quickly it all happened. Wasn't he supposed to spend more than eight hours waiting like a good bureaucrat? Where was the slowness of the system? The long hours of queuing? Oh worse still, the absurd amount of paperwork for the smallest thing?

Wait, seriously? That's it? Were my answers good enough?

Julius deliberately ignored his confusion.

"Okay, Nick Hamberson...

"Just call me Nick, just Nick.

"Fine, Nick-san." A look of disgust filled his face when he heard the suffix. "For now, you will be asked to accompany my colleague behind the door. You will then return to your cell. You will be informed later what will happen to you."

The creaking of bolts filled the room. The metal door was open, revealing a guard standing ready.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"Good. Let's start with the simplest thing," said Julius, with that refined courtesy in his voice that somehow made everything sound like a polite accusation. "What is your name?"

Accustomed to this process, Julius prepared to note any irregularities.

"Ramsi," he paused and added, "Just Ramsi."

Barely getting started, the first irregularity was noted as the first paragraph.

"No last name? No house affiliation?

It was rare to see someone so well dressed and clean without a last name.

"N-no," he repeated like a parrot. "Just Ramsi."

Julius could only silently note everything down. Noting any strange traits, such as having such an eccentric, not to say stupid, name in elegant and gentlemanly words.

"Very well. Second question: what were you doing before you arrived in Lugunica?

"I was, um... traveling. Between jobs, like, um..." Ramsi's mind was quickly running out of ideas. He had mentally rehearsed possible scenarios on his way to the interrogation room.

But in front of Julius, the well-thought-out lies in his mind dissolved like wet paper. In the end, he tried to be partially honest...

"I worked as a courier assistant in my village, it wasn't much. But it allowed me to have some money in my pocket, but the company I worked for went bankrupt a long time ago, and I was fired. I was looking for work when, abruptly... haa..." A sigh filled the dimly lit room. "Look, man, I'm just looking for a job. I have to eat, you know?

"I understand, it's understandable. Everyone here, just like you, is looking to earn their daily bread. Everyone in the barracks, everyone in the capital; that's why I hope you'll cooperate as best you can.

"Liar..." Ramsi whispered with disgust.

Everyone knew that the only real job of the common knight was to do nothing. If he worked, the kingdom would implode.

"Excuse me?"

"Huh?" Startled at being caught red-handed, he tried to change the subject. "Well, that's it; I work for a company in Kararagi. I couldn't find a job in my area, so I decided to come here in search of new job opportunities."

"Courier assistant, you say?" Julius' tone was completely neutral.

"Correct.

"That's curious. When my men took you to your cell and interrogated you, you claimed you couldn't name a single relevant road between Kararagi and the capital. A striking omission for someone in your line of work.

Ramsi's palms began to sweat.

"I-I wasn't the one who planned the routes," he excused himself. "I just took the packages where they told me to.

Pathetic.

"I see.

Julius just silently noted his answer. The truth is that such a response was quite absurd; of course, before that response was common. Centuries ago, literacy was common, but in recent decades it has declined over the years.

Only a few remote villages near the borders between nations partially maintained the problem, such as the upper forest. And this man was too clean and well-groomed to fall into that category.

 Julius rose from his chair and slowly paced around the dark room. "Next question: what exactly are your intentions now that you are here in Lugunica?"

"I'm looking for work, as I told you before," Ramsi replied curtly, clinging to that truth. "Honest work. Whatever I can find: merchant's assistant, laborer, waiter, miner, whatever. I don't have much money, so I need a job soon." The two exchanged glances. "And—and I wanted to see the capital of Lugunica. I'd heard it was beautiful. I thought, I thought about... being a tourist, I guess, while I looked for opportunities."

In the end, Ramsi couldn't hold his gaze.

"A tourist?" Julius stopped right in front of him. "You arrive with hardly any money, wearing strange clothes, carrying an inexplicable device, and your main priority is sightseeing? First of all, with what money did you plan to do sightseeing?"

"I never said it was a good plan," Ramsi muttered.

Defeated, he looked at the ground, like a child caught stealing candy. For the first time since the interrogation began, something resembling amusement crossed Julius's face. But it quickly faded.

He was a gentleman, the best gentleman. He couldn't use his childhood memories to decide his actions.

"Last question. So, where are you from? What nation do you come from?"

At that moment, Ramsi felt relief and nervousness intertwine in his chest. He couldn't simply say that he came from another world, much less mention what lay beyond the waterfall. Nor could he betray his companions, who, of course, would never admit such a thing.

So he forced himself to think calmly.

He shifted in his seat for several minutes, restless, as if searching for the right words in some corner of his mind. Finally, he looked up and spoke in a firm but measured voice:

"I come from Gusteko, near the border. From a town that almost no one knows.

Julius stared at him for several seconds. He looked at his registration portfolio, where it said he worked for a company in Kararagi. He read it not once, but twice.

At that moment, the best Knight didn't know how to react.

"Interesting. Would you mind naming the village you're talking about?

"It's called Ip Lalo. It's famous for its caves," Ramsi replied as sweat ran down his forehead.

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I visit Kararagi..."

Ramsi felt as if he had just been sentenced to death.

"You're not from Gusteko, are you?

"No."

"Where are you from?"

"I invoke the fifth.

"

"What the hell was that?"

''I don't know, Julius. I just remember him yelling about human rights and respect for others when we pulled him out of his chair. Gustekan trash. That kingdom is one big cult.

''....

Julius didn't want to comment on the subject. Instead, he checked his briefcase.

"There are 10 more left..."

he muttered to himself, rereading the answers he had received. Most of them were useless, if not all of them.

This was going very badly.

"Charles," he looked at the rookie who had just finished his training, "could you do me a favor and bring me the man who smuggled a miniature statue of a woman who looks very much like a member of the royal family?

"Sure, right away!"

With almost religious enthusiasm, he raised his arm and gave a military salute. Then he set off in search of more madmen.

"Always so enthusiastic," murmured another gentleman.

When he returned, he brought with him the same guy, who was holding a miniature statue of a half-naked woman, extremely similar to the royal family. Julius still didn't know how he managed to hide it so well that even his spirits couldn't find it.

"Here he is, sir. His name is Noobmaster69.

"Thank you, Charles.

After that, he escorted him to his chair and waited outside with the other guard.

"Noobmaster69? What a stupid name.

He calmly began to close the metal door, only to hear a small fragment of the interrogation:

"What is your reason for being in Lugunica?

"I came here from the deepest depths of Gusteko to fuck some Lugunic bitches!"

This really wasn't a good day for Julius Jukulius...

"Specifically, a very beautiful woman named Capell..."

The door closed after that.

"Poor Julius.

"Yes. On this occasion, I'm glad to be the one who doesn't have the leading role. Work is overrated.

"Why do you say that, Captain?

The captain just smiled.

"Charles, Charles, Charles. You're still very new, but if you want to understand my philosophy for advancing in the military, I'll teach you. Go help Lieutenant Julius, it'll look good on your resume :)!

"Okay?" Charles hesitated to agree. "Well, I guess I won't say no to extra work. Some extra money would be nice.

"Money? Pfff!" A small laugh almost escaped from the captain's lips. "We'll give you honor points for your work.

"What?

The captain just shrugged, amused by the situation.

"What good is that?

"To increase your honor.

"What the hell does that mean...

"You ask a lot of questions, Charlie... Are you a Vollachian spy or something?

"...

Julius could only remain silent from across the room. Sometimes he wished the walls and doors were thicker.

"Can this day get any worse?

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Another one...

"Please state your name. It's necessary for the record," Julius commented.

He prayed that she would have some common sense.

"Wa-Waffles Muller." A blatant lie. "Yes, that's my name."

Julius had to resist the urge to sigh and shake his head. He still couldn't understand why they tried to lie so blatantly. Couldn't they be more subtle? This was very unfortunate to see.

"All right... let's continue," he said, preparing his pen and naming the first line of the protocol. "What were you doing before you arrived in Lugunica?"

"Well, I was at a festival... I remember buying some things at a stall and then ending up here. By the way, can I have my things back? I paid a lot for them."

Julius was silent for several seconds. He wasn't very keen on taking away the belongings of people who hadn't done anything wrong either. But that's life. Not everything is fair.

"I'm sorry, but that won't be possible for now. Not until we're sure you're not a danger to the kingdom of Lugunica." Waffles just stared at him with a poker face.

"I'd like to speak to your supervisor.

"I am the supervisor."

"Tsk!

Yes. Julius had the same reaction to the futility of the interrogation, but it was his duty as a knight to comply perfectly.

"You said you were shopping at a stall and then ended up in Lugunica?" Waffles could only feel somewhat uncomfortable. "Could you describe how you got to the Royal Capital?"

A small but long silence filled the room. Waffles put a hand on her chin, thinking about everything that had happened.

"W-Well, I think I was kidnapped... Everything that happened is very blurry." Julius could only force his eyes not to roll back. "The last thing I remember was a huge flash of light blinding my eyes, and then being here."

Julius could only raise an eyebrow. That detail was new.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Do you remember anything else?"

"The truth is, no. I don't remember anything else other than that annoying flash. The truth is, now I'm wondering too: how did I end up here? How did a flash send me here from one second to the next? It doesn't make sense."

Julius also wanted to understand everything that was happening.

"If I find anything, I'll let you know," he tried to reassure her.

"Thanks, I guess..."

Julius nodded politely and wrote down everything that was said or shown before his eyes.

"Next question, where are you from?"

Waffles smiled awkwardly. This was pointless.

"I guess you could say I come from... very, very far away.

"...

Julius' pen gently scratched the parchment. He didn't look up.

"Are you related in any way to the other individuals who were captured and imprisoned with you?"

Waffles just shook her head, uninterested in the subject. It was almost as if she was disgusted by the mere idea of anyone associating her with that bunch of losers.

"No," she replied curtly. "I don't know them at all. In fact, if it's not too much trouble, could you put me in a different cell, please?

Waffles was fed up with all the pointless arguments and shouting.

"I'm sorry, but that won't be possible. All the other cells are occupied; there aren't any available."

Worst of all, they were still arriving in droves, like rabbits on Saint Dragon's Day! Julius could feel a slight headache filling his head just imagining the pain of organizing so many new prisoners and suspects.

For Od's sake, he hoped the last batch would be the last...

"How many of us showed up?

"Us?

"Ugh, you know what I mean. I may not know them, but technically I'm in the same boat.

"Well, the truth is, the number keeps rising steadily. So I can't give you an exact figure, but I think it's already over eighty.

"EIGHTY!!?

A chair fell to the floor. Waffles had jumped up, eyes wide open, demanding answers:

"How can so many people...?!

"I would ask you to please be quiet and sit back down," Julius interrupted politely. "We don't understand what's really going on either, but rest assured that sooner or later the truth will come out.

Waffles could only roll her eyes at such a cliché response. The truth will come out sooner or later? Ha! People were literally falling from the sky! How could that make any sense? Besides, she didn't believe the government would ever openly admit what was going on.

"Okay, thank you," she smiled politely, and proceeded to bite her tongue to avoid saying anything outrageous.

Waffles wasn't going to buy into that law and order propaganda garbage.

"Moving on, what is your intention in Lugunica?"

"None," I replied. "I'm new here, so obviously I won't have anything to... never mind, if I do. I want to get all my stuff back and get out of here. In fact, I think I'll see if there are any lawyers around so I can sue them.

Lawyers. Another word Julius didn't understand.

"If she is released, what guarantee can you offer that she will not endanger civilians?

"And I thought Americans were the most xenophobic and racist people in the world.

"Excuse me?

"Look, man, I don't know what ideas you have. But where I come from, we don't stab anyone who crosses our path.

A thick, deliberate silence settled between them.

Julius exhaled quietly.

"My deepest apologies, I didn't mean for you to think that.

"Oh, sure, stop lying to me so blatantly. You and the rest of your shitty little group are all the same. All you've done since we got here is lock us up and divide us like cattle in what could easily be a concentration camp.

"Dungeon," he corrected.

"It's the same thing."

Julius could only shake his head.

"Okay, last question: do you know what that strange 'thunder' was that was heard in the square where they found you?

"No?"

That single word conveyed uncertainty, not confidence.

"Okay, that's all. You may leave if you wish. We will inform you in your respective cell if you need anything else.

The metal door opened once more, accompanied by two guards standing close to it. Waffles just got up from his chair and looked at Julius one last time.

"You better make this worth it. Otherwise, you'll wish you'd never been born."

Julius began to think that maybe he should try a different approach...

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"Well, what is this for?

Mohammed's gaze wandered, unfocused, until it soon settled on the table. On the object resting there: a small flat rectangle with a reflective glass cover and two buttons on the side, barely visible by candlelight.

His hand moved hesitantly, as if the device might recoil. His thumb brushed its surface. Nothing happened. He pressed a button. A faint click was heard. The object remained dark.

Mohammed shuddered.

His phone had become a paperweight. Never before in his life had he regretted taking his brothers' chargers with 97% battery life to charge his dead phone.

"It's, it's... just a paperweight now.

The phone slid across the table with the sound of the slight scrape echoing off the walls. The phone ended up returning to the same place carefully, as if returning a blunt sword to its sheath.

"But you recognize it, you know what it's for.

Julius insisted.

"Believe me, it's not worth investigating. That thing is useless now.

Mohammed didn't want to waste time explaining what a phone was to a gentleman from the Middle Ages.

"Useless or not, I must know what it's for.

"...

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The lamp buzzed faintly above their heads, its light reflecting off the polished edge of Julius's rapier and then fading away.

The knight inevitably returned his gaze to the strange device. The questions just kept piling up, and the answers were becoming more and more absurd, almost as if this were all a circus.

"That," he pointed to the strange device with his hand, "is a magical instrument that is unknown and completely unregulated on the market. I checked the entire list of records and known merchandise from Metias, but this one does not appear on the market.

He paused.

"I checked a report from the merchants' guild, and they don't know anything about these strange metias either. They don't resemble anything we know, so where did they get them?

Things at headquarters had not improved in the slightest. The interrogation department had received Russel Fellow's communiqué about investigating the huge group of metias discovered and confiscated by the strange group from beyond the stars. Nicknamed thus because of the strange event that was almost mistaken for a meteor shower.

The research and information gathering department has been ordered to give top priority to any matter related to the metias referred to as "telephones" by several prisoners.

''....

"Look, I understand that you don't trust us. But believe me when I tell you that we have no bad intentions. We are only seeking to ensure the safety of everyone here," he said, pointing again to the phone on the table. "And we have been tasked with investigating what this strange metia is. What is it for? And why do you all have one?"

Mohammed refused to answer for what seemed like dozens of minutes. Or maybe it really was more than a dozen. Time, in that room, was diffuse.

"... Do you promise that nothing bad will happen to me?

Julius wanted to say yes. That he would not allow any innocent person to become a victim. But more and more people kept arriving, all of them clearly civilians with no knowledge of what was happening.

"I promise.

Knights existed to uphold the ideal of chivalry and maintain unwavering loyalty. Julius would fight for that ideal until his death, oh so said his heart.

"Thank you," he whispered softly, gratefully. It is a multifunctional device, the vast majority of its capabilities residing in everyday use, such as telling the time of day or calculating mathematical sums more quickly. You can think of it as a Swiss Army knife.

Julius didn't know what a Swiss Army knife was. But from its name alone, he could understand its function. It was a compact and portable tool that integrated multiple simple functions, some of which came to mind: a blade, a file, perhaps a bottle opener, and scissors. All designed for greater versatility.

"Interesting... why didn't I think of that before?

"Excuse me?

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how useful a device that size could be.

"Meh, it has its uses. But in this case, it's no longer useful; now it only serves as a paperweight."

Julius could only raise an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

"This material has a certain amount of energy, and when it runs out, it becomes useless.

The gentleman nodded, noting down every piece of information available.

"I'll be back in a second.

He walked to the door and handed through the slot all the information gathered during the interrogation. He had been informed that any trace of information, no matter how small, had to be handed over and reported to the general staff as soon as possible.

"Did something bad happen?"

Mohammed asked from the back of the room.

 "Not really," Julius walked back to the table and sat down. "I was just handing over the record of the conversation as a matter of protocol.

"Ohhh..."

A sigh of relief escaped Mohammed's lips.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Now, returning to our questioning, your name is Mohamed, correct?" He nodded calmly. "You claimed to be from Kararagi when my colleagues brought you here. Could you tell me which town you come from? I have some acquaintances in Kararagi and would like to verify a few things."

"I see. I come from a fairly quiet and remote village called Banan.

Julius remembered that the Admirer was living in that area.

"Which region is that in?"

"To the... east?

"Lugunica is the easternmost country. Kararagi is to the west.

"...

"...

"Damn it

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"This is getting us nowhere." Frustrated, he could only review his notes one last time. "How many more are there?"

The truth is that there was nothing useful, beyond unnecessarily useless data or incoherent phrases that you only hear from crazy people who are just looking for attention.

"Just one more, sir."

"Bring it in. Once I'm done, I'll give the information I've gathered directly to Commander Marcus.

"Yes, sir.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The nuts moved accompanied by the creaking of metal opening. Julius walked accompanied by a young man whose clothes were a mess of scratches and holes everywhere. As if he were a straw doll.

"Could you tell me your name?"

Julius offered him a chair with his arm.

"John," he replied, looking around, exhausted and lost. "Hey, I'm a little lost. Why are we... here specifically?

"...

Julius just glanced at him and walked to his chair. He sat down, ready to end this whole meaningless circus.

"This is an interrogation conducted by the headquarters of the knights of the dragon kingdom of Lugunica, in which you are accused of causing disturbances in the capital on the 12th of Tammuz of 401 of the new calendar.

And boy, was the chaos generated horrible. Poor intelligence and espionage department, who would have to try to cover up this incident as much as possible abroad. The kingdom of Lugunica was not ready for international conflicts.

"That's a very detailed answer.

"Indeed, that was the duty of a knight." Do you have any other questions?

"No, just um...

"Good.

A bird feather appeared before John's eyes, along with a small portfolio of papers. Julius, accustomed to this, prepared to follow protocol.

"Do you know what that thunder was that could be heard a few hours ago, if it was some kind of unauthorized high-level magic related to the people who appeared in the capital?

"Yes, it was a... a shot. One aimed at me."

Julius stopped his pen, somewhat confused. They had barely begun, and ironically, it was the first time he had received truly useful information. Of course, details about time zones or a flash filling his vision could be useful. But they were like crumbs compared to the real unknowns.

"Excuse me, could you repeat what you said?"

John pointed to his bloody ear. But there was no visible wound, thanks to a certain healer.

"I was mugged, they tried to rob me, and the mugger used a weapon to threaten me. I resisted, and things didn't go well." He proceeded to rub some parts of his body, with an expression of pain. "It still hurts..."

Julius looked the boy over from head to toe, his clothes torn to shreds.

"Why would a thief with a weapon loud enough to be mistaken for thunder try to rob... you?

"I..." He paused for a second to check his memories. "Did you just call me poor to my face?

"I'm sorry if my words were understood that way, but that's not the issue here.

It sounded to John like the gentleman didn't want to admit his inner classism.

"...?

"Where are you from?

Yep. Inner classism, everyone has it burning like embers in their hearts. John had to resist the urge to lash out, pointing out that he wasn't poor, even though he was.

"Chile, Santiago de Chile.

"Beyond the great waterfall?

"I see the others were honest. If that's beyond the great waterfall.

Honest wouldn't be the right word for Julius; it would be better to say that everyone there was a complete failure and clumsy when it came to lying. For the best gentleman in the world, it wasn't easy to start piecing together the clues, even though they were so absurd and stupid.

"So, you were all teleported from the other side of the waterfall?

"I would say it was from another world. I doubt that anything really exists beyond the great waterfall.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but that hypothesis sounds a little wrong. After all, you and your cellmates naturally know about our part of the world. If you were from another world, you wouldn't know anything about the history of the Four Great Nations.

"Well, about that... it's a very long story.

"I think we have enough time, so don't worry.

"Um, I don't know." John was afraid that the entire capital would go up in flames if he told everyone that they were fictional characters, created solely to tell the story of a silver-haired half-elf. It really is all very convoluted, and I think we'll be sitting here for a very, very long time.

"Unfortunately, that's part of my job and duty as a knight. Don't worry, I won't judge you or question you without selfish considerations.

John doubted it. He could already see Bordeaux Zellgef lying on the floor, suffering two heart attacks at once, upon hearing the savagery that this man could utter.

"Well, uh, thank you. That's very noble of you, it's just that... could you give me a few seconds to think about how to explain everything? Hehehe," sweat ran down John's mind, accompanied by a crooked smile. "It's a lot of information.

"Go ahead. You can take a few seconds to organize your thoughts while I ask some basic questions, is that okay with you?

"Y-yes..."

John waited, no. He prayed that he would find a way to explain everything without sounding like a crazy person off the street. Which, to be honest, he did look like, with his clothes a mess of torn and dirty rags, his hair tangled, and some dirt still stuck to his skin.

"I appreciate your cooperation, and rest assured that I won't ask any questions that make you uncomfortable." John just nodded nervously. "Do you remember how you were brought to the capital?"

"Well, not really. I just remember opening a door and then, from one second to the next... I was here. God, just remembering it confuses me so much.

John himself would even think he was dead, if it weren't for the pain that ran through every one of his muscles, torn by overexertion. Only someone alive would want to sleep and eat something.

"Do you remember anything else? Like a strong blinding light? Or any strange sensations?

"Well, apart from a horrible change in lighting, nothing else. In general, if I had to describe the whole process, I think it would be like crossing through doors.

"Walking through doors?"

Throughout the hours of questioning, Julius had heard and listened to a multitude of confusing terms unknown to his native Lugunian language, something common in cultural clashes. But in this case, it was much more extreme; nothing. He hadn't understood anything, not a single clue.

It was almost as if those words were from another world.

"Crossing doors is a yin magic spell used to shorten distances between certain locations, using a door and a room marked as an entry or exit point as a catalyst.

"Yin magic... curious. This is the first time I've heard of such an extraordinary use for yin magic. Although, where did you get this information? If it's not too much trouble.

"Well, I got it after learning, or rather, I discovered it by observing certain events in the Mathers territory, specifically the Great Spirit who watches over the home where the Chief Magician of the court now resides.

"So you were in the Mathers territory?

"Not at all.

If it were John, he would never set foot in those lands.

"Then how do you know all this? You say you observed certain events, but you weren't there.

The weight on John's heart grew heavier and heavier. He hated with all his heart that he couldn't be clear with his information; because if he did, it would be practically declaring that he had read the closest thing to a gospel. Oh well, John, the truth is that he doubted a little that Julius or the other knights really knew what a gospel was... but what if? He really didn't want to risk his neck.

"Is it really necessary to be present in a place to be aware of certain things? Magic is a very abstract subject, and the limits of what can be done with it are still unclear.

John didn't know what had gotten into him, but he was doing what he believed to be the best comeback of his life.

"Does that... make sense? But still, I need an explanation of how you know that.

Damn.

"Look, man, about that... well, it's part of a long story that I'm still trying to figure out how to explain to you. The point is, I think they could have brought us here using yin magic, similar to crossing doors, since yin magic specializes in the control and manipulation of certain areas, such as space or time," I finished explaining. Or at least that's my theory, I'm not really sure.

"...

For a second, Julius' mind didn't know how to respond. Too much information and data flooded his head like an avalanche, leaving him speechless.

In fact, the only thing he understood was that yin magic could be the cause of everything.

"Control of space and time?" Julius didn't know what those words really meant, but they sounded profound. "Look, while I deeply appreciate your support, I think that would be impossible. It would take an absurd amount of yin mana to bring so many people here.

"Why not use magic circles that maintain a teleportation spell in certain areas remotely? That way, you could place a multitude of circles in various areas. To activate them all at once?

"That would be one way to do it...

It goes without saying that if that were the case, a threat of such magnitude would not be something only Lugunica could worry about. Although, to be honest, to Julius it all sounded like the ravings of a madman, a poor madman who had taken a very hard blow to the head.

"So?

He looked at him hopefully. Clinging to the table, as if he were on a sinking ship.

"...

This was the part Julius liked least about his job.

"Look... I'll be honest with you." John felt as if the table he was clinging to was shaking, becoming increasingly unstable. "I've interviewed 12 people before you, and they all seem scared, but they haven't stopped lying to my face, or telling me incomplete truths. I have to submit my report after you and give a verdict on what will happen to you. I think you're innocent, but I have no reason to let you go and enough to arrest you.

"Damn..." he cursed under his breath. "Hey, calm down! I bet there are better ways to prove our innocence, like a contract! We could sign a soul contract, about not...

"If you slip up, your soul will be burned to the ground.

John's fingernails scraped the wood of the table. As if they were claws.

"Shit..." he bit his lower lip. "How long? How long would they give us?

"Not long. But it's not about time, they would have to wait for a fair trial and given the situation in the country...

"It would be months, because there is no king.

John regretted letting his tongue slip.

"How do you know that?"

A voice boomed, strong and calm. At the edge of a rapier, he watched him.

"...!

"Who told you that?

The news that the royal family had died less than eight months ago had spread not long ago among the common people, like snake venom. Unable to hide such a fact, the Council of Elders could only pretend to be the supreme body that dictated the kingdom's policy and confirm it in whispers. After all, now that the royal family was dead, they were, in any case, the head and heart of the nation. And as the main body, they had to put themselves in the crucial position of maintaining the literal life of the state.

The confirmation that the royal family had just died put the kingdom in a life-or-death crisis. But that did not mean that the news had reached foreign countries openly. The general staff and all branches in charge of espionage were tasked with delaying the leakage of sensitive and critical information as much as possible.

All until the situation stabilized and they could secure a safe position for the nation. All to keep the homeland of the Holy Dragon alive.

Julius looked at the man standing in front of him and declared in a straight and confident voice: "The information about it was leaked, but we have been very cautious about foreigners not knowing about it, and this is supposed to be your first day here, right? How do you know that?"

"...Heh, do you really want to... hear it?

"I'm all ears.

Oh rather, his sword was all ears. If the news that other foreign nations knew about it so easily, through a snitch or some crack in the state structure, could put a metal sheet back over the head of the state.

"Look, man, what I'm about to tell you doesn't make much sense. But I'll be as honest as possible... Have you heard stories about someone being taken to another world?

"No?"

Julius felt somewhat confused by the question. What did that have to do with everything he knew?

"Well, I do, several in fact. Where I come from, there are lots of them, silly stories that children and adults enjoy. One of them describes a world of four nations, formerly five, set in a world limited by something called 'the Great Waterfall'. Its men were: Gusteko, Vollachia, Kararagi and...

"Lugunica..." For a second, the name of the evil that destroyed half the world, Satella, flashed through Julius' mind. "In a world limited by something called 'the Great Waterfall'"... How is that possible?

That sentence made no sense. Half the world was supposed to have disappeared. The emptiness of nothingness confirmed it.

"I don't know... maybe, maybe someone from the other side came from here and told us everything they saw. God, I really don't know. I thought... I thought it was just a story... and now I'm here." The more he spoke, the more his voice broke. "I don't even know what damn season we're in."

"...

"I'll never see my family again... my parents.

Clenching his fists in despair, he held back the sob that formed in his throat like a lump.

"I just wanted... I just... I don't know what I wanted!" "But I just couldn't." "I just know I didn't want this!"

He slumped in his chair, breathing heavily. His mind was racing, desperately seeking some stability; a pair of golden eyes pierced him. The gentleman was still as calm as he had been at the beginning.

"I'm sorry." John felt that those words were false. "This all sounds very far-fetched. I'm sorry I can't... believe you completely.

"I-I just want to see them... again.

"I'm sorry.

He repeated, not really knowing what to say.

"I-I can't even see them on my phone because they took it away from me."

The image of his beloved parents flashed through his mind. Like a blur he was unable to grasp and appreciate when he had the chance.

"Are you talking about the photos that were confiscated? We still have them.

"C-Could you give me my phone, p-please?"

I beg you.

"I have them somewhere. You could take yours if it helps, but I need you to describe it to me if it's some kind of harmful magical device.

So far, Julius hadn't found or heard anything dangerous. But you never knew. The general staff had been very clear and strict about checking every last detail of the matter.

"T-thank you very much.

"Wait here, quietly please."

John could only bow in respect and gratitude. While Julius stepped out for a second to talk to the guard outside the door, several minutes passed before the object was brought in under the strict surveillance of several extra guards, who waited outside the interrogation room.

John watched everything with some impatience. The minutes he spent alone allowed him to gather his thoughts and feelings, although his throat still felt uncomfortable and his eyes were red.

"Here you go.

Julius calmly slid the phone across the table.

"Thank you very much.

He looked at his phone's screen, still intact. It was amazing how tempered glass and a good case could save his phone.

"...

84% – November 9, 2025.

"Only an hour and a half has passed." Out of curiosity, he checked to see if he had a signal. "Nothing. Great, now it's only good for taking and viewing photos.

And only for a day or two at most. The idea of having a modern phone didn't seem so cool anymore. Maybe a Nokia was better. Maybe that way it would last until the battle of the great whale.

"Which is?

"Oh, sorry," John forgot for a second that he wasn't in a safe zone. "Well, photographs are like exact portraits of a specific moment. They are mainly used to save memories or a specific image. Oh! They also serve as a mirror... although you need some kind of signal, which acts as a connector. Which I don't have here, making that function impossible.

John quickly tapped on his phone, searching his gallery and showing Julius some examples, even taking a photo of the gentleman himself.

"Fascinating, and how exactly does it work?

"I don't know. I just know it can do that.

Was there really anyone who knew how the mechanisms of their phone worked without working on it? 

"I think...

"That's right! You need a warranty, right?"

"What?

"Sorry... I got carried away. I meant that in order to allow us to be released under supervision before the trial, you need some kind of guarantee, right?"

Julius was silent for a moment before responding.

"If you could offer me something that proves you are not guilty, that you did not harm the citizens of the capital... I would do everything in my power to intercede on your behalf. I could even try to get the charges against some of those arrested reconsidered. But right now, I have no evidence.

"Then give us a test," he replied almost without thinking. "Put us under the supervision of the knights. Let us prove that most of us here wouldn't hurt a fly. Allow us to cooperate in the investigation, to prove that all this was against our will.

"A test...?" Julius repeated thoughtfully. "That could go wrong.

"It can't be worse than this," he swallowed hard, John hoped he hadn't raised a red flag. "No one wants to be here. I'm sure none of us are over twenty-five. Yesterday... I was just playing on a bus. That's all. Half of the people here would never have caused a disturbance if circumstances hadn't dragged them into it. I promise you that.

Julius stared at him.

"I believe you.

"Really?

"You haven't lied once since you walked in. At least, not that I've noticed. I can trust your word... for now.

"Does that mean...?"

"It means I'll try. I can't promise it will work. Maybe I'm just giving you false hope. But I'll do my best.

An invisible weight lifted from John's shoulders. Allowing him to breathe easily once again.

"That's something. Thank you... really, thank you."

Julius nodded slightly.

"I wish we had met under different circumstances.

"Yes... I think I would have too.

"That's all for now. You can return to your cell. The door is open, a guard will escort you."

John had to resist the urge to celebrate as soon as everything turned out well. He was beginning to understand Subaru's actions a little; his life had gone from a flat, traffic-filled highway to a damn roller coaster.

His heart was pounding. He stood up and gave Julius one last look of confirmation, and Julius nodded.

"I appreciate your determination. You are truly worthy of the title 'the best of knights,' Julius.

He said from the bottom of his heart, walked to the door, and had his phone confiscated once again. According to the guards, they would not give it back to him until he was escorted out of the dungeons by several guards; in addition, its use would be regulated under the supervision of a knight or law enforcement officer.

Poor guy who wanted to let off steam in a forbidden place.

"Od... couldn't you really give me a day that was a little less cruel?

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Vilisiphus was a war veteran. He had fought in the Royal Army against the bastardous southern pointy hat wizard cultist scumbag known as Stride Vollachia.

On Vilisiphus's forehead, there was a scar.

That day, oh so many decades ago, when Stride had attacked,

It had been the worst day of his life.

And now, upon seeing that black book, it all came back to him.

Borat was still rambling on.

"...And you see, that's why the glorious nation of Kazakhstan keeps all daughters in cages. It's ethical! Yes! It's good for the country and makes for a happy life! Yes! You UZBEKS let your daughters run free. It's a big mistake! Soon, the country will have weh'men screaming rights and dangerous things like "Free Press." It's a big error! Just look at what happened to the poor village of Нигглсон. They let their daughters run free. Нигглсон now lives on only in memory... and—"

There was now a sword to Borat's neck.

"You... You... You're... You're not a C-C-Cultist Are You?"

The PTSD was hitting hard.

"ҚАРУ? ЛАҚАҚ ЖӘНЕ ЖҰҒЫЛ" Borat's native tongue slipped out. "WHY SWORD AT BORAT NECK?" He exclaimed.

"Is that fucking cultist language I hear? Make one fucking move and I'll chop your head off. Sasha, get in the house."

"..."

Borat raised his eyebrow at the unexpected obedience that Sasha, the child, displayed.

"I see how it is. Here in Uzbekistan, literal cages are not needed! Instead, patriarchy cages are used to keep the spirit of daughters in a cage! It's genius! No need for metal and bars. Very smart. I assume the country of Uzbekistan is a country where a daughter opposing her father is a big no-no. Instead, there is a strong and oppressive culturally entrenched oppressive gender-based power structure cage. Yes?"

"TELL ME RIGHT NOW, ARE YOU OR ARE YOU NOT A CULTIST?"

The reason Vili hadn't chopped Borat's head off is because he still continued to exist. A cultist would, at the first accusation of being a cultist, instantly begin killing everyone in sight. Borat was wabbling on about some bullshit. Vilisiphus was smart enough to hesitate before killing. He wasn't a bad man. He prayed to every deity he knew that this might just be a big misunderstanding. Oh how he prayed, yet remained ultra-vigilant.

"I am not a cultist. Why do you say cultist? I am not Jewish. I am a proud killer of one thousand cultist Jews. I kill ten thousand Jews and smash all Jewish eggs in the whole of Kazakhstan. I smack Jewish witches like Will Smith. It is very nice."

A fortunate misunderstanding. Borat thought that Cultists were Jews.

Indeed, this situation sucked worse than the metzitzah b'peh. A small group of people had come to see what the commotion was about. They assumed it was a thief being caught in the act, but were confused by the fact that poor Vilisiphus was trembling. He was known to be the bravest of the war veterans in this district.

Unfortunately, Borat's black book had brought back the mother of all PTSD attacks upon poor Vilisiphus. Even with the memories of his squadron being annihilated, he still managed to somehow keep himself cool and interrogate Borat. Unlike a certain sleeping girl. You know who I'm talking about.

“You’re… What the hell is that book then?”

"It is an informative booklet procured by the glorious nation of Kazakhstan."

“...”

“Burn it.”

“Huh?”

“No Cultist ever burned their own Gospel. I need to see you burn it.”

“Why burn the book? It’s a fire hazard.”

"BURN IT."

He took out a small Firestone lighter.

The Burn method had been one of the better techniques that the royal army had developed to flush out cultists. No cultist would ever burn a Gospel. Never. This was one of the only ways of identifying cultists in the field other than Miasma.

Thus, Vilisiphus decided to test Borat.

"But sir. It is treason, I will be framed as a gypsy and thrown into a well like a Jew. Not good. Bad. Please, don't make me commit trea-"

"DO IT!"

"Okay."

Borat promptly took the lighter.

"How does this work?"

"DO IT—twist the little thing right there."

Borat promptly twisted the little thing right there.

A single tear fell from Borat's eye as the Daughter Ownership Manual went up in flames.

"It is not a glorious day for the nation of Kazakhstan."

Vilisiphus, having received confirmation that Borat was no cultist, slowly lowered the sword but kept it lingering around Borat's neck.

"You're not a cultist. What the fuck are you?"

Borat introduced himself.

"My name is Borat. I make glorious movies for Kazakhstan."

PART III

“On the way to a new tomorrow”

"Is this some kind of bloody joke, Julius? By Od Luguna, you must be fucking with me...

Stunned by what he was reading, the guard could only hold back his urge to go and complain to his superior.

"What's going on, Captain?

"Read it for yourself, I don't feel like explaining this madness.

Charles could only look at his Captain in confusion until he took the sheet of paper from another guard who was passing by. Reading it word for word, he widened his eyes and looked to his superior for confirmation.

"Yes, yes. Loes, it's an order... Damn it, Julius, seriously? Let them go free?

For a second, the knight seriously considered going to question the contents of the letter with his superior, but he seriously doubted that Julius was still inside the facility. After all, he had asked a passing guard to deliver the message; they couldn't afford a messenger at this moment.

All available personnel in the capital had been deployed to strategic points in the capital, seeking to capture and verify the safety of the citizens. They could not afford a blow to the fragile morale of the country, let alone the unnecessary loss of material resources.

Most likely, Julius had barely finished his report when he went directly to Commander Marcus Gilkard, who was most likely leading the protection of the Royal Castle.

"Damn...

"Don't be discouraged, Captain, I bet Lieutenant Julius has good reasons.

"I don't care, it's extra work for the same pay.

I could already see Julius paying for the extra work with a hamburger instead of money. Oh, worse still, with honor points. God, that man was so dedicated to his work. And I hated it. Come on, man, don't make the others look so bad! Some of us just do what we're asked to do. That's not a bad thing.

Walking through stone corridors, they ended up in a silent cell where everyone seemed incredibly focused, unaware of their presence.

"What the hell?" muttered the captain.

Confused, he looked at the intern... I mean, his fellow squire. He just shrugged, equally confused.

"So we can't even watch some porn alone? What a load of crap.

Someone complained in whispers from behind the bars.

"Dude, I know, where are my daily offerings, a capella? I bet she'll be really disappointed if I don't do my fatality on her.

"Your 'fatality' is sharpening your sword?

"Do you want to see it?"

"No!" they all shouted in unison.

Both the squire and the captain could only look on with some confusion and disappointment at the group of madmen.

"God, I really don't understand why we're letting them go free," he complained under his breath, took out the keys to the cell, and prepared to open it. "Hey, you poor bastards, come here! Line up, or I'll whip you, like the vulgar people you are."

Ordering them in an authoritative voice, the prisoners had no choice but to obey. Fortunately, no one was foolish enough to defy an armed guard...

"Shh!

The Captain stopped halfway and turned his gaze. Only to see a guy pointing his finger at his jaw, as if he were a bodybuilder, it was the same guy who somehow managed to prevent his miniature sculpture from being confiscated.

Resisting the urge to sigh and hit him for disrupting the order, he raised his hand.

"Give me the sculpture," he ordered.

"...

In response, the man made a shushing gesture with his finger and stretched his lips, only to proceed to point/tap his jaw with his index finger.

"Hand over the fig..."

The damn bastard shook his finger before he finished, and made the same damn gesture again. Pointing at his jaw while looking at him sideways.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean...?"

He didn't even finish. He signaled for silence and resumed his strange pose, smiling superiorly. Pointing at his jaw.

"Doing it faster doesn't add anything!

"...

That just made him do it faster.

"Hand over the figurine! NOW!" He pointed angrily at his hand, with as much authority as he could muster.

He paused for a second and looked at him sideways.

"No," he declared, then returned to the same shitty pose.

"...

The Captain turned his gaze to the keys in his hand and made a decision.

"I quit. They don't pay me enough for this crap."

He threw the keys on the floor and started walking toward the exit. His partner ran after him, trying to get him to come back.

"Captain, come back!"

" he shouted from the far end of the hallway.

"God, I didn't think he'd really quit, just because NB is mewing.

NB just smiled smugly as he did it again on a whim, and raised his other hand ready to receive his pay.

"Friend, I don't have any money, they took it all from me, remember?

"Me neither.

"Same.

"Same.

"...Is this a joke?" complained NB.

"Dude, it was a joke. Did you really think we'd pay you like in the movies?"

"Give me my money!

Frustrated, he lunged at Haku, who had mocked him a second ago. Starting a fight in that cell, it only stopped when both guards returned, in total silence and with serious faces, accompanied by... Borat! The second-best reporter in the glorious country of Kazakhstan!

"Hey! Be careful with my clothes, they cost a whopping $2!

"And I repeat, I do NOT speak Wolfrian!" he added in a whisper. "Or whatever they speak in Gusteko. Sigh. Now, hands where I can see them! You guys in the cell too, don't try to be clever!" He glanced sideways at NB with obviously poorly contained fury.

"Иә, ақымақ өзбек," Borat placed his hands on his head theatrically.

"Okay... I want everyone to come to the cell door and put on the handcuffs." His partner, Charles, opened a leather bag and showed them the handcuffs. Hesitating for a second, he offered them to the prisoners. "Line up. You will follow me to the prison registration office."

Charles handed the key to his captain, the same one he had thrown on the floor moments earlier. He proceeded to insert it into the lock, quickly opening the cell; some backed away so as not to collide with it due to the force exerted.

"If anyone does the slightest stupid thing, they'll stay here with the rest of their kind, is that clear?

Everyone understood except NB, who had to be elbowed to keep him from doing something stupid.

The guard took a step inside and placed his hand on his sword sheath, his knuckles white with tension, which would have been visible if not for the gloves he was wearing.

Silence was his answer. He was too old for this job...

"I'll take that as a yes. Let's go." He moved his body, leaving the way open for them to leave once and for all.

The first figure to leave was NB, who, without any shame and already wearing handcuffs, looked at the same guard as before with a smile that said, "Hit me." The guard sharpened his expression, and as a result, NB's silly smile disappeared from his face, but not for the reasons he had anticipated.

"Are you still telling them how I won the bet?" He turned around and looked at the rest of his companions.

"No way," replied Haku, leaving the cell. "Now who should pay whom?

"Is no one going to mention that Sacha Baron Cohen is literally standing in front of us?" Phil asked, with obvious dismay in his voice.

"My name isn't Sacha Baron Cohen! My name is Borat, the second-best journalist in Kazakhstan! None of that Uzbek propaganda about 'Sacha'!

Borat realized the truth... The Uzbeks had spread anti-Borat propaganda throughout this filthy nation, changing his name to an Uzbek insult! A great insult! A great insult!

"Wait, is it really Borat and not Sacha? How is that even possible?" he wondered. "Is the multiverse real?" Nick was having a minor crisis at this moment.

"Marichiba What? Why are you speaking in Pling plong little one?" Since Borat arrived, he couldn't help but notice that some of them spoke American and others spoke an unknown language, probably Uzbek.

"What?" And in a matter of seconds, the realization dawned on everyone.

All of them were speaking Japanese. And the only Japanese person there was Takeshi.

"H-How is that possible?" Some of them chattered frantically about it. How was it possible that they had learned a new language without realizing it?

"Oh..."

Nick put his hands on his head, remembering something very important. The realization hit him at that very moment.

"Shit" was the only word he could utter as he looked at the others.

 "The Reddit post came true. The coins, the language, the Gate... How the hell is that possible?! ME?!... Did I bring us here by accident?"

Nick is having a bit of a crisis right now.

"Hm? Is something wrong?"

"I-I, I-I'm so sorry. I think this whole situation is my fault.

"Why?"

Takeshi asked.

"Well, I remember creating a post a week ago asking what you would do if we traveled to Re:Zero, and well... I'm sorry.

"....

Everyone looked at him silently, confused, while others processed what he had said.

"You..."

Mohammed pointed at him in astonishment, not really believing that made sense. Until he remembered all the parameters of the post and how they had all been fulfilled.

"Are you the one who brought us here?

Ramsi questioned. Many eyes began to turn angry and others extremely confused. I don't understand how a Reddit post was the cause of this whole situation.

"Guys, guys, guys! Stop talking nonsense. Obviously that doesn't make sense," refuted NB, who just shook his head in mockery. "A post couldn't have brought us here.

"That's not s... God, I think he's right. The bastard is right.

The old former guard, who only continued his job because he wouldn't get his monthly pay if he signed the resignation papers now, was too tired to continue with this madness and stop his identity crisis or whatever these weird Vollachians were suffering from.

"Charles," he called. "Some keys were sent to your address." Take care of the rest.

He walked a few steps while the rest continued to argue.

"Yes, Captain." He opened the second cell, took a few steps back, drew his sword, and made it grind against the metal. Combined with the wind, a terrifying noise echoed in everyone's ears.

"Hugh! I forgot how loud that was. Wasn't that going too far?"

"That's the only thing this technique is good for, because it doesn't work for the sword."

"I suppose that's true..." He continued, "Well, whatever you're going through, you'll have your moment to discuss it later. Right now, we have work to do. Fall in and follow Captain Kenji. He will be your guide. Please don't make any sudden movements."

"..."

Charlie and Kenji watched the prisoners in silence. It was as if they had been hit with a bucket of cold water while sleeping and had suddenly realized the situation they were in.

Soon the other prisoners came out in silent formation, 13 figures lined up in a straight line.

"Well, Sir Julius," he stopped abruptly, hesitating over his next words. "He decided that you will be released."

"Really?" More than one of them couldn't help asking at the same time.

"SILENCE!" Kenji exclaimed irritably, waiting a few seconds before continuing. "Released under the supervision of Lugunica guards at a Hoshin company facility with strict rules so they don't do anything stupid. And if they did, they'd be sent back here, which none of us want, right?"

"True..." replied Waffles, hesitantly.

"Okay, everyone get your belongings back, the same ones that were taken from you. If you lost something, tough luck.

"Actually, you have 48 hours to file a claim..."

"This is not the right time, Rookie," Charlie was quickly interrupted by Kenji, who was in a rather bad mood.

"Yes, sir," he replied quickly.

"...

Kenji inhaled and exhaled exasperatedly.

"Whatever. It's here, come in one at a time, no sudden movements or anything that might make us have to chop you up.

No one questioned him; it's not as if they had the courage to irritate a man with nothing to lose. This wouldn't be their last day alive for something as trivial as that.

"...Okay, the exit is close by. We'll escort you to the inn we mentioned earlier and remove your handcuffs, but if anyone tries to escape, be prepared for the consequences.

Two large antique wooden doors with years of history stood in front of the group. Charlie opened them, revealing a spacious room with a reception desk and a gentleman doing paperwork with a look of disdain on his face, as if he had heard a bad joke.

"Is that them?" he asked, as if nothing could surprise him anymore.

"Indeed... Do you have their group of objects?"

"It's my job." He stood up and lifted a heavy box with a pile of items and belongings.

"You know what to do, hurry up."

NB stared at him, not understanding.

"Come on, you too! I don't have all day."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you mean. If you mean that on May 19, 2036, at 20:36 you will be walking down the street and you will see a man in a dark alley on the left, whatever you do, DO NOT TURN left, keep going straight and do not turn right, because if he sees you, it will be over. Then keep going until you meet a young girl on the side of the road who will ask you for some small change. You MUST give her all your money, otherwise the demon from the 8th circle of hell will capture you and rape you for 100 years, after which you will gain the ability to taste semen with your anus. Let's go back to the girl. Then you have to start running home and barricade yourself in, because someone recorded your interaction with the girl and made it look like you were trying to buy her sexually, then used artificial intelligence to fake your voice, and the police are already on their way. Then you have to write a manifesto about... the consequences of banning the storage of figurines in jars and how it will cause the downfall of society, then go to the nearest homeless shelter and furiously masturbate to mark your dominance and earn their respect, so that you can fight the police and get their weapons to fight the man who is still following you, because it was a 2-meter-tall black man named Jamal, who was the girl's father and was trying to help her find a boyfriend, from whom she could inherit all their money after their death, and after defeating Jamal, you can build an army of boats with your army of homeless people and sail to Agartha and become the AHDF, the Agartha Homeless Defense Force, and be worshipped by foids and skinny people around the world for many years.

''...."

They all looked at each other.

"Wow... That was very specific and graphic to hear." Loop, who hadn't said a word, apparently spoke Polish and didn't like it. "I feel like I burned a few brain cells..."

"...

Everyone shared the same thought, even though they didn't understand what he actually said.

"Boss, I think I'm starting to understand why he wants to quit.

"Damn..."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The smell of cherry blossoms and ash filled the air. A dirt and gravel road filled their journey.

"Wow, this place is really beautiful," said John, fascinated by his surroundings.

Entering through the huge metal gates, the group looked in awe at the building where they would be staying for the next few days. A huge, homely house of at least 100 m² stood in front of them, with three upper floors; although it would be better to call it a mansion.

A small garden of flowers and oak trees stood between the sides, pointing in a straight line towards the entrance of the mansion, with bushes finely cut and pruned into rectangular shapes, accompanied by flowers of different colors and shapes.

"Yes, yes. Whatever, go ahead, I'm not having a good day," the guard grumbled with clear envy.

Moving forward through the small garden, they ended up seeing a stone arch easily two meters high. In front of it, stone steps rose up, accompanied by a stone-covered floor.

Red fences stood like a security fence on either side of the stairs.

"I think we've hit the jackpot, guys." Takeshi couldn't help but be fascinated by such a warm place.

Accustomed to living in areas where black, pastel gray, and white reigned supreme, such a variety of colors and shapes dazzled him like fireworks. At the same time, a doubt gnawed at his heart: why had the world become so boring?

Square buildings without will or charisma, indifferent to each other. As if they were concrete boxes, minimalist and very empty houses. Furniture that felt like dark spots of light.

Everything was boring and gray. Everything was soulless and devoid of humanity.

"Um, I don't know," a childlike expression of meditation painted NB's face. "I think this house is a little small, mine is twice as long. Like my..."

Most ignored what he was going to say next; they weren't about to waste brain cells every five seconds.

"Are you sure it wasn't drugs?" Ramsi complained.

"No, no, no. My only addiction is my daily offerings to Capella, right Cape... Where's Capella?

Observing and touching every part of his body, NB began frantically searching for his Capella figurine.

"Come on, where are you...? I haven't put you in a glass jar yet.

But no matter where he looked, he couldn't find it. This made him more desperate than ever before.

"Where is she?

Slowly, NB's good mood was erased and replaced by great frustration.

"Who took Capella?

Unconsciously, he looked at her last owner.

"What? Do you want me to kick you in the balls, or why are you staring at me so much?" complained Waffles.

"Pfff! You wish you could touch my shiny balls, anyway. Why did you take my Capella? We had a deal.

"Take what?" She blinked a few times in confusion, until a look of disgust appeared on Waffles' face. "Look, idiot, I wouldn't touch that thing again. You've stained it so much that I feel like throwing up just thinking about touching it.

"Liar!" I pointed at her accusingly. "Only you could have taken it!

Some looked at the guard, who just whistled innocently.

"So, what about that guard?

The guard himself tensed up when he heard that. Some noticed something yellow sticking out of his back.

"Him?" A snort of derision escaped her lips. "Nah! A loser like him couldn't steal from me even if he wanted to."

Everyone except NB swore they saw a nervous twitch in the guard's eye.

"Charles, I'll leave it to you..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, God, is this what being a squire is all about?

"Unfortunately, yes. Why do you think I hate my job?

"For the Dragon..."

Defeated, Charles walked over to NB, ready to calm things down.

"Where's Capella!?"

"I don't know, you idiot!" replied Haku.

"You should know, you're dark-skinned!"

Haku wanted to argue, but he saw the squire approaching.

"Hey, you! Yes, you, help me with this crazy... Hey, don't go!

This time, the squire decided not to do any extra work. This earned him the respect of his superior.

"You learn fast, huh?

"God... they're so annoying.

"I lose.

In the end, both guards ended up making a nonverbal pact not to do anything for the rest of the way. They were both tired of working.

Walking for a few more minutes, they finally arrived at the gates of the mansion. Where they proceeded to knock on the door with some reluctance. Minutes passed and while the group waited, engaging in meaningless chatter, a maid dressed in a maid's uniform opened the door.

"Good afternoon, what do you want at the Juukulius residence?

Dressed in the standard maid's uniform, with her hair tied back in a bun, the maid waited for an answer with one eyebrow raised.

"Good afternoon, miss, we come on behalf of Mr. Julius Juukulius. Member of the Royal Guard, here is the letter with all the important information.

The gentleman quickly handed her a letter with the Juukulius family seal.

"Okay? I'll take it easy." Thanks, I guess.

"You're welcome. Have a good day."

Quickly and without waiting too long, both the gentleman and the squire took off from there. They wouldn't work overtime without corresponding pay.

Leaving behind a group of young people who were lost and somewhat frightened at being left alone.

"...Um, John. Weren't you supposed to watch them or something?

"Yes. Actually, yes, I don't understand why they left...

"Ahem!" interrupted the maid. "Excuse me, who are all of you?

The maid still didn't quite understand the situation, but if one thing was clear, it was that these confused young people would be a problem for her and the other maids.

"W-Well, let's just say we're foreigners. We came to the capital and after some trouble, Mr. Julius offered us a place to stay, and I guess this is it." John tried to explain as best he could.

The truth was that he wasn't very clear on the situation either, but he gave the best explanation he could, hiding the fact that they had been arrested and taken to the dungeons for receiving isekai.

"Did Mr. Julius-sama really do that?"

The maid seriously doubted those words, which sounded too good to be true.

John could only smile sheepishly and shrug his shoulders.

"... The maid just stared at him for several seconds in an uncomfortable silence. Come in.

Without further words, the whole group ended up entering and being taken to a reception room, where an elderly lady was waiting for them.

"Well? What will happen to us?" Nick asked the older lady, somewhat unsure whether he would be living under a roof or end up living as a vagrant at the end of the day.

 The guards who had brought them there were not the most talkative, nor were they the most clear about their situation. All they did was take them out, give them their things, and "escort" them to the residence where they were now. Then they left as soon as they arrived, leaving them to their fate.

"One second, please..."

She glanced at him sideways, only to return her gaze to the letter she was holding in her hand.

"Well, I think everything is in order," she said calmly as she reviewed the letter again and began to speak. "According to the contents left to us by Mr. Julius-sama, it says that all of you, a total of thirteen people, will live here for the next few days, in this residence. You will also be watched over by us and a squad of guards selected by the cavalry logistics department, who should arrive in the next few hours. In addition, any attempt to leave the residence must be reported to and verified by us. Finally, he says that any use of your metias is strictly prohibited until the guards who will watch over you arrive.

It took several seconds for everyone to process all the information. It wasn't much, but the weight it brought to each of their hearts was not something that civilians without a life at risk could easily bear.

Many of them had never touched a shovel in their lives. Even while attending school.

"So, what are your names?

"My name is Phil, nice to meet you.

"Takeshi.

He calmly bowed at a ninety-degree angle.

"I'm Roa, nice to meet you.

"Um, well, I'm Ramsi... nice to meet you, I guess." He awkwardly raised his hand and tried to shake hands.

Obviously, the older maid did not take it and just stared at him. It seemed that in that world, such things were not common.

"Mohammed, nice to meet you, and apologies for the inconvenience.

He smiled calmly and put a hand on Ramsi's shoulder, who still had his hand raised like a statue.

"Nick. My name is just Nick.

He put a hand on his chest and tried to introduce himself as his parents had taught him when he was in kindergarten.

"Borat Margaret Sagdiyev, miss. It is a pleasure to be in front of someone of your beauty... By the way, how much is the hourly rate?

Some people around them coughed when they heard him.

"John, you can call him John."

The boy just raised his hand wearily. His face was pale as a ghost.

"Altair, baby," he winked mischievously. "Do you happen to know where the library is? I'd love to learn some magic," he said excitedly, with a childlike smile.

"I'm sorry. There are no magic books here, guest-sama."

Poor Altair deflated in sadness.

"My name is Loop, and I think I'm the last one, since there's no one else but the ten of us..."

Confused, she looked around for the three missing people.

The older maid also raised an eyebrow, confused. There were supposed to be thirteen in that house.

"Where are the other three?"

Everyone shrugged, not really knowing where they had gone.

"I'm sorry, but we don't know where they are," Nick apologized on behalf of everyone. "As for me, the last thing I remember about them is that they were arguing on the way here, in the garden, about something.

"Yes. Actually, it's the same for me. I think they were arguing about who stole from whom, something like that. I really don't know."

Mohamed supported his companion.

"Well... if that's the case, I have no choice but to thank you for your honesty. I'll send some maids to look for them.

"I pray for the souls of those poor girls," Takeshi muttered to himself.

The others supported him mentally. No one wanted to know what happened to that crazy trio.

"All right. You stay here, I'm going to look into this matter. Soon a maid will come and take you to a room so that those who are missing here can receive their tasks.

"Tasks?"

"Yes, tasks. Or do you think you'll live here for free?

"....

Nick didn't answer the question.

"Well... now that you mention it, yes," said Takeshi. "Actually, I did think that."

The older woman turned to look at him.

"Excuse me, but we're not a charity.

"Then why don't we pay him to live here? We have some funds.

A bag of gold coins jingled, as an incentive.

"Hmmm, I'll think about it. Now stay here and wait for my partner to arrive.

Everyone nodded silently and ended up waiting to be taken to a new room for their respective chat. Which was very important and had only one goal: What the hell were they going to do now?

PAR IV

"Do you have a plan?"

Approximately 10 minutes later

It was barely noon in the capital of Lugunica. The morning light illuminated the room with beautiful colors. A large number of chairs and people were gathered with fake smiles.

Takeshi insisted on the subject for the tenth time.

 "First, we need to be sure of three things: we have to avoid the Pride If route, make sure Subaru goes with Emilia, and let Reinhard discover Felt. So here's what we're going to do.

No one took his words seriously.

He continued.

"We're not going to interfere with the main story. We'll let Subaru meet the trio of thieves and fall in love with Emilia just like in the original story...

BAM!

A loud bang echoed across the table.

 "Enough! This is too annoying, even for me," cried Altair, fed up with such barbarity.

None of them knew each other well enough to truly give a clear and honest opinion of the others. It was barely the first time they had a real conversation without bars in between, so all they had of each other was that first bad impression when they were all in custody.

But the first impression they all got of Takeshi in that filthy cell was unforgettable.

"We should let Subaru die! Think about it logically...!"

To most, if not almost everyone in the room, he was an unscrupulous bastard who would not hesitate to crush others. The very definition of a coward.

And that was something no one in that room could allow.

Roa had to rub his eyes several times to calm himself down, given the barbarity of the boy in front of him. "Let me get this straight. Your plan is for Subaru to learn everything on his own, right?

"Yes?" he nodded doubtfully. "I don't understand why there's such a fuss, it's quite simple." Takeshi replied, slightly confused.

A look of disgust formed on Roa's face.

"Okay, let me explain why we're all so upset about your 'Grand Plan,'" Roa said, raising his fingers and lowering them with disdain. "Look, it's all for one simple reason: it's not even a plan!" he exploded in frustration.

Takeshi felt offended.

"Hey, that's not true! My plan is pretty good. We just have to make sure we don't change the plot too much, so we can use our knowledge to our advantage," I try to reason.

Someone didn't find that comment very funny.

"Knowledge?" Phil recited. "What knowledge? Would you really bet your life and ours on something you saw in an anime from nine years ago?"

Phil found it almost hilarious how easily everyone had unanimously accepted that they were inside the anime Re:Zero. Sure, he understood. It was the simplest and most logical explanation for what they were experiencing. Still, something about that conclusion bothered him. It didn't feel right. It wasn't natural.

Phil swallowed hard. (This wasn't right, none of this is right), he cursed the bastard who caused this.

"Obviously. I mean, we're in Lugunica, it's obvious that—!"

"No! No, it is," he declared, fed up with Takeshi's simplistic thinking. "It can't be that simple! We are literally in another world and taken from a story that was written 13 years ago. First of all, how can you even consider judging your criteria by a series that you don't even know the ending to?

"Phil, calm down a little," Takeshi pointed out. "Look, I understand you, we all understand you. We're in the same situation as you.

John couldn't help but feel concerned about how quickly everything seemed to be escalating. He had the feeling that he himself was going to explode if his partner didn't calm down soon.

"I'M NOT GOING TO CALM DOWN!" Phil exploded. "We're in another world straight out of a damn GORE anime! One that could easily be banned in forty-seven countries because of how explicit it is! Don't you see how absurd and fucked up this all is? How am I supposed to stay calm?" The more he explained, the more his voice broke into a painful shriek.

Phil's breathing had become more erratic, his knuckles were white from the pressure, his emotions were overflowing.

Some had mentally prepared to refute him, to justify their position and bring order to the conversation. However, what they heard next took them by surprise.

"That's a... very good point, actually.

John's lower lip trembled as he agreed with him.

"That's exactly why we should let history follow its original course and avoid divergences," Takeshi tried to reason.

Phil's eyebrows furrowed; he was in no mood to put up with an idiot he had only known for a few hours.

"Your 'plan' is to rely on an anime with three adaptations with a bunch of differences between them! Trying to keep the story 'canonical' doesn't make any sense because it's impossible to do!" he asserted, his patience exhausted.

With their mere arrival in the capital, anything canonical was no longer a viable option. The butterfly effect that could arise from simply getting together with Julius could cause everything they knew as fact to become absolutely meaningless.

"You're very naive if you think your plan will work," he pointed out. "And before anyone else says anything... think a little. We're all right here in the world of Re:Zero. Can you really guarantee that everything will happen exactly as we saw it in Re:Zero itself? ... Damn it, we made a damn deal with Julius Jukulius! Clearly, the answer is no!"

The room fell silent.

"And I have no idea what to do! I just know that we're screwed... really screwed.

"...

"Phil... Maybe you should take a break, there's still a room available for you to get some air," suggested Mohammed.

"No." He inhaled and exhaled. His position was firm on staying.

"Phil?" asked a concerned Mohammed.

"Just give me a second..." his voice trembled slightly, "to pull myself together.

Nick hesitated for a second, not knowing how to handle the situation.

"Huh, ah, uh."

The words just wouldn't come out of his mouth. Nick had never been a charismatic person, let alone had a rich social experience; his greatest social interactions actually came from the internet. If he had to describe himself in one word, it would be "awkward."

Nick's eyes filled with pain and confusion. He had constantly forced himself, dealing with everything around him, ignoring important points, for the sake of his conscience.

"Was that how Subaru thought?

It was most likely, so he had to imitate him.

Nick forced a smile and puffed out his chest.

 "Despite all that, it's a good point," he replied. "We should see what events have already happened or not in the first place, don't you think?"

They all thought about it. They knew they were in the capital of Lugunica. They knew that knights like Felix and Julius were there, but they didn't know for sure if r the royal family had died or were still ill, or even if Subaru had already appeared in the capital.

"We could ask about Subaru and some events from the first arcs later while we decide what plan to follow. That would give us some clarity on where we are in the story. And if they don't even know who Subaru is, then there would only be two moments in the timeline.

Either he hasn't arrived yet and they are pre-arc 1 or in arc 1, or he has been forgotten by the world and they are post-arc 5. Unconsciously, some prayed not to hear "Who is Subaru?" after considering the scenario in their minds. It would be like hearing a very bad joke while being sentenced to death.

"I mean, despite everything, the capital of Lugunica is quite safe after Arc 1. We can read and write the language, we have money, and I think it's a little too early to panic.

They could speak and write a completely new language without any problem alongside Japanese...

How the hell did that even work?

Takeshi hesitated to speak. "But are we going to stick to my plan? Right?" he replied. "I mean, we should just investigate the situation a little and..."

That was the last straw for Altair.

 "Your plan is to just do nothing and let Subaru die dozens or hundreds of times! That's a shitty plan!" Altair replied abruptly.

Altair had been having a bad day, no... Altair was having the WORST day of his life. GTA VI had been snatched away from him while he was on the damn loading screen, only to have an isekai happen just as it finished loading. As soon as he arrived in a new world, he was vomited on and arrested like a good third-world immigrant. To top it off, he only miraculously escaped from a filthy cell, only to be bombarded by incessant proposals of plans from the same man, who had surely never touched a woman in his life, over and over again.

"I'd appreciate it if you weren't so rude. I'm just trying to make sure that no one here has a bad ending," he softened his voice.

Takeshi may have openly stated that he wanted someone unrelated to him dead. But he wasn't the kind of person who was willing to sacrifice all his friends and family for his goals.

Sacrificing a stranger for his own benefit and that of a multitude of good people. It was only natural, all for the common good.

"Takeshi, it's just that..." John hesitated before continuing. "Do you realize... that your 'plan' would cause everyone in this room to die at least three times if we decide to stay?" he asked with obvious weariness.

His enthusiasm and interest in Takeshi's opinions quickly faded.

Quickly shifting to an almost unconscious social segregation by the others.

Was the segregation justified? Probably.

"Correction," he added. "Only Subaru or others would die. We would be fine, as long as we keep our distance from him.

What that "U Others" meant was the people who wanted to go to the Emilia camp and help Subaru, and Takeshi knew it and didn't seem to care.

With a look of disgust, Mohammed made up his mind.

 "I'm not going to participate in such a disgusting plan.

He wasn't that kind of person.

"Neither am I. I refuse to have my path built on the pain and blood of another human being," Nick continued.

"I want to join Emilia's camp, and you're practically asking me to condemn myself to death and suffering in order to avoid a greater evil that we could easily avoid with what we already know. I'm not going to follow such an idiotic plan," Altair complained.

None of the people who decided to stay in Lugunica, apart from Takeshi, could live knowing that they were walking through a river of corpses...

"I think that's a little hypocritical and childish of you," Takeshi pointed out. "None of you, including me, really have the strength and influence to prevent the tragedies of this world.

That was nonsense. John knew it, everyone there knew it.

So he pointed out: "There's a big difference between witnessing a tragedy and witnessing a tragedy that you knew was going to happen and could have done something to prevent long before it happened... even if we can't remember it in the end.

Takeshi smiled wryly, as if he were only adding more arguments to his plan.

"Exactly," he said, snapping his fingers with an almost distracted gesture. "And that's why my plan works. In the end, there will be no pain, because those worlds simply won't exist.

He tapped his fingers on the table, as if explaining something obvious.

"We'll all live happily, safely, without real suffering. Without memories. Without even the ability to point to a tragedy. Because it never existed in the end.

John felt a knot in his stomach. The way he said it... so calm. So clean. He looked away for a moment, as if he needed air.

"...You're a monster," whispered John, as nausea rose in his throat.

"I prefer the term 'cynical,'" he replied calmly. "I'm not the smartest or strongest person, but I know perfectly well when to set aside my values for the greater good.

"Greater good!?" cried a bewildered Roa.

This was complete madness.

"Yes," he nodded. "To ensure that none of the paths and tragedies of this world actually exist, we must simply make sure that Subaru takes the right path, while supporting him from the background.

"That doesn't make sense!" he questioned again.

"Of course it does," he explained slowly. "All we have to do is make sure his mindset stays right. We'll be his support, his friend, everything he needs for us to have a great happy ending.

"Imagine, all your most personal desires and dreams will be in the palm of your hand." A slight smile formed on Takeshi's mouth. "Power, wealth, love, knowledge, beauty, friends, maybe even eternal life."

Takeshi held out his hand and looked everyone in the eye.

"All for the modest price of unconditionally supporting a stranger."

Takeshi clasped his hands together, smiling calmly. He completely ignored the looks of hatred from everyone. It was almost ridiculous, how his mentality tried to live among a crowd of corpses, while smiling ignorantly of the true price of that "happy ending"... no, it would be more accurate to say that he willingly ignored it.

After all, nothing in this world was free. Isn't that right?

"You must be kidding me..." Roa wondered if Takeshi was a monster or just someone so cynical that he didn't really understand what he was saying.

"Don't you really realize that your plan has a good chance of turning us into the biggest hypocrites in this world? What's the point of staying if we're only going to do more harm than good?"

Loop believed from the bottom of his heart that there must be a reason why they were brought to that world.

Because if not, there would be no reason for him to be there, which would mean that his presence being eliminated would change absolutely nothing. Therefore, there was no reason to raise his voice.

 It was an idea that stuck in his head when he arrived in Lugunica. After thinking it through and deciding not to run away, he decided to remain neutral.

And although he tried to stay that way and not get any crazy ideas... He couldn't help but raise his voice when he heard such a... Horrible idea.

"I refuse to go along with your idea, and I will prevent it from happening." Loop made his decision. He would try to prevent Natsuki Subaru from suffering in this world and would do everything in his power to achieve that goal.

 Even if it's not much, it's still something.

He wouldn't take the role of a spectator this time.

"Have a good life, or do you want to live in mediocrity?" Takeshi was obviously reluctant to change his stance.

"That's not it," Mohammed shook his head. "But there are too many flaws in your thinking. His ability isn't what allows him to make everyone happy, but rather that Subaru himself values his life more. Dragging him into dependence on that power will only lead us to ruin.

The whole work revolved around the fact that Subaru loved himself, that he valued himself more.

That he would learn to mature, to become the person he could be.

Natsuki Subaru had fallen in love with a girl who was far out of his reach.

Along the way, he met a wide variety of people, lived life to the fullest, and brought joy to countless souls.

He worked hard, fought tooth and nail, all because he ended up falling in love with an entire world, with that world, with the extraordinary people he found in it.

He wanted to be worthy of walking beside her. In the end, that's what it was all about, wasn't it?

It was never about whether or not he could go back and save them all. For with his mere presence, he could fix the irreparable.

"Please, my beloved, don't cry, love yourself. Value your life more..."

It was very ironic that a witch understood this better than many in that room.

"Pff!" Takeshi had to stifle his laughter. "Please! The premise of the play itself is that he can come back to life. That's what allowed him to get where he is..."

"Enough," John interrupted. "You're starting to sound like Echidna and Roswaal. That's sinking too low, even for you, and I barely know you."

Everyone looked at Takeshi with disdain, disgust, hatred, anger.

And Takeshi could only stand still, like a moose watching a car speed past in front of him.

And Takeshi could only stand still, like a moose watching a car speed past in front of him.

He quickly became nervous.

"Well, I don't see anyone else suggesting another idea!

Takeshi asked, feeling overwhelmed.

"You really don't understand Natsuki Subaru, do you?" Nick asked.

"What are you trying to tell me?

"Natsuki Subaru didn't get far just because of his ability. It's because he's 'Natsuki Subaru'.

A look of discomfort formed on Takeshi's face.

"I'm sorry, but what does that mean?"

"Um... well, it's just that Natsuki Subaru is simply Natsuki Subaru," Nick tried to explain.

Takeshi wasn't amused.

"I don't think it's something easy to explain, unless you understand what it really means to be [Natsuki Subaru]," Altair commented. "Have you read arc 6?"

Takeshi couldn't help but feel uncomfortable when he said the name of that infamous arc: "The Hall of Memories..."

A ghostly pain formed in his chest as he said that name.

Arc 6, better known as "Hall of Memories," was an essential arc for truly understanding the man named Natsuki Subaru.

What happens when you are unable to recognize the man you claim to be? What happens when your very existence becomes a falsehood? It is said that memories make a man. That every moment we live is what we are and will be: the touch of skin, the scent of a place, the feeling of hearing the voice of a loved one, the enjoyment of a good meal, etc. All of that was proof of our existence and our actions, engraved not only in the heart of the world, but also in the hearts of the people we love.

"Natsuki Subaru is not supposed to be an incredible man! He is a hopeless failure!"

But it seemed that he was. And it was the duty of a child who thought he had just arrived in a new world to discover who the man named [Natsuki Subaru] really was.

To see the despair of a man facing the impossible. Struggling and searching for his own past in this cursed library, abandoning his own sanity and safety just to glimpse the hero he is supposed to be, only to reveal that he is nothing more than himself, a mere fragile, incompetent man, a hopeless idiot, who was nothing special.

Such a level of rawness was overwhelming for many. The fear, the horror, the despair of seeing a man dance between acceptance and discomfort in his own flesh was intoxicating.

Smarter, stronger, more useful, bigger, more, more, more. Every moment in that tower was a vicious circle that left a mark on everyone.

It was not easy to forget the human being at the end of that white room.

"He's just a stranger," he insisted to himself. "There's no way to know if it's him..."

"What would your family think if they saw you, sending a man to hell?" Mohammed replied sharply.

Takeshi snorted, refusing to show weakness.

"That's not the point," he denied, frustrated. "He's a stranger at this point, no matter what I've seen or read.

Takeshi felt particularly disturbed, desperate, and even proud to truly understand the man behind that runner, the one who had gone through so much pain and suffering.

The simple act of watching and remembering how that desperate, broken boy read book after book in absolute solitude, vomiting, convulsing on the floor, only to keep going regardless of whether he broke down in the process, was something that, even to this day, left Takeshi speechless.

All so he could save them all.

All to be able to see their smiles.

All so he could experience even a part of what they called a "hero."

"But what if he is?" said Mohammed. "You would be sending a child to the guillotine."

It was for that reason and more that he unconsciously couldn't doubt himself. Was his thinking really right? Why did such a good man have to go through hell? What was the point of making him suffer if, in the end, he couldn't enjoy it? A multitude of questions began to torment Takeshi.

For the first time, Takeshi wondered if such cruelty was necessary.

"You are an amazing guy, [Natsuki Subaru]."

A deep pain formed in Takeshi's throat.

"I-I just, I... I just..." he stammered nervously. "I want to go home," he pleaded as he tried to hide his face between his knees.

Nothing he said or thought made sense.

Because even if he wished for it with all his heart, it would not come true.

They all knew it.

He could never go home. They all knew it. They would never see their faces again, never hear their voices again, never say a simple "I love you" to them again.

And that hurt.

It hurt a lot.

''....

Phil looked at everything and just shook his head. He wasn't the right person to cheer him up.

He himself was struggling not to break down, even though he didn't show it.

*Sigh*

"Ah, man, that's why I hate dealing with new people," Altair whispered.

The atmosphere in the room was always terrible; everyone knew it. But even so, they had tried to pretend that everything was fine, for the sake of their health and well-being.

Smile, joke around, act like you're at high school or a work meeting. Anything to make your heart hurt less.

"We really are a total mess, huh?" A dry laugh escaped Nick's mouth.

Every face in that room was a reminder of his deepest desires.

Nick felt like he had stepped in a puddle, only to discover too late that there was no bottom beneath him. The reality he knew was rapidly breaking apart before his eyes, and it didn't look like it would end anytime soon.

He kept falling.

Ramsi rubbed his eyes wearily.

"Yeah, but what do we do? There's literally nowhere to run or hide. Takeshi may be an idiot, but he's right, we need a plan."

The aforementioned snorted silently.

"I think the first and most important thing is to get information," Phil suggested.

None of them really knew where they were in the story; in fact, they didn't know if the story really existed or if it was all a bad joke.

"What if we leave it all to Reinhard? I'm not exactly thrilled about putting my life at risk in the future, you know?" Ramsi replied dejectedly.

Ramsi firmly believed that he was not an isekai hero, much less had any reason to be taken there. Most likely, they had just had very, very bad luck.

No one in the room was special or had a chance to achieve great things.

"Maybe... it's too early to think that way," Takeshi whispered. "I may not be interested in getting involved in the plot any more than the bare minimum, but leaving everything to Reinhard is likely to hurt us more than it will help us. Like in Pride if.

Many trembled at the thought that this could be their future.

"In any case, it would make it more necessary to investigate all kinds of information. To avoid a butterfly effect, like Reinhard turning Subaru into a proud monster because of our actions.

"I hate to admit it, but the damn edgy kid is right," Altair grumbled.

A grimace of disgust formed on John's face. The fact that everyone was fighting each other, forgetting that they were teammates and shouldn't be living together so aggressively, left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Well, I guess staying here wallowing in our misery would be completely useless. So, it's better to figure out where we are in the story. That sounds like a good first step in coming up with a plan." John proposed following Nick's idea.

"Okay," Ramsi decided. "But what exactly are we looking for? I'm not really interested in joining Subaru's group, or any group for that matter. I just want to live peacefully, for now."

He and some others might not want to get involved with the story of Re:Zero, at least not in the short or medium term. However, that didn't mean they could afford to ignore their surroundings with complete indifference.

They had to broaden their horizons as quickly as possible to avoid scams, dangerous places, the witch cult, or anyone of minimal importance.

"First, we must investigate whether the events of the first arcs have already happened," Altair suggested.

Everyone nodded; there was no reason to refuse.

"Then, depending on that, we can try to see Subaru's achievements or if there is any news about the royal selection. Julius didn't mention anything about Anastasia when he questioned me, so it's a good place to investigate," added Loop.

"And you could then try to find Reinhard. I bet having backup in case everything goes wrong is a good idea," he finished.

Slowly, the mood in the room improved.

"Yeah, that doesn't sound bad. Living in a luxurious mansion and... I've decided! I want to join Felt's camp!"

Takeshi said, coming out of his terrible mood.

"*cough* *cough* Lolicon," John commented.

"... Takeshi remained silent.

"Huh?" John raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to defend yourself?"

"No comment." Takeshi wanted a lawyer.

"...

"No one's going to let him join Camp Felt, right?" Nick asked, only to be interrupted a few seconds after opening his mouth.

"Absolutely not!" Roa protested.

"...I miss Japan. There, they wouldn't question me about this. Instead, they would be discussing how to defeat Elsa, even if it meant...

"Actually! I had an idea about that: we could set fire to..."

Mohammed spoke only to be interrupted.

"Yeah, no," Altair quickly commented.

Even he wasn't that crazy.

"You didn't even let me finish!" Altair had discussed this with Mohammed; it was his opinion, not a professional one... Mohammed wasn't the best at coming up with plans.

"You know what?" Phil spoke up. "This isn't going anywhere..."

The door to the room was kicked open, a loud noise echoed in their ears, blanking Phil's mind, who forgot what he was going to say next.

"What the...?"

In front of them, next to the door, stood a middle-aged man. With curly black hair, a full mustache, and brown eyes, he appeared to be wearing a golden yellow tie, a dark green button-down shirt, and a silver-gray suit.

"VERRI GUUD MORNING MY AMERRICAN CUMRETS!" Borat extended his hands and greeted the room with unique enthusiasm, while in his other hand he held a suitcase, which he left on the nearest table.

"Wasn't he 'sleeping'?" Ramsi asked, confused.

Everyone remembered how Borat ended up being "put to sleep" by one of the maids after making some very "bold" offers.

In the end, a group had to take him to a separate room so he could "rest peacefully." That's how it had to end, it had to end that way... Borat wasn't supposed to wake up the few miners...

"The Americans seem to make too much noise!" Borat replied to Margaret Sagdivey.

A smile from ear to ear spread across Borat's face.

"What the hell did he say?" Phil couldn't understand Borat. His accent seemed to have become much more pronounced, and his spirits had returned. From what he could see, he was much more lively.

Nick almost squealed with excitement as he watched a fictional character come to life.

"He's just like in the movie!" he exclaimed, delighted. "I wonder if he's going to kidnap a woman?" he mused.

Nick unconsciously looked at Mohammed.

"Why are you looking at me, is it because I'm Arab?" he asked, confused.

A slight blush spread across Nick's face.

"No!" he denied instantly. "I was just asking if you saw the movie!" he quickly tried to explain.

Meanwhile, Borat continued to introduce himself, unaware of Nick's bright gaze.

"Aaah, I see you know about our way of finding wives in the glorious country of Kazakhstan!

"Well, um... 'Borat,' we were just discussing what to do in the future and what we'll do with, well, Subaru Natsuki," Phil tried to explain. The situation was too... surreal, even more so than it already was with Borat there.

Borat's eyes lit up when he got a topic of conversation.

"Subawru Nartuski? Yeah, I know about those cars, brum brum!" he interpreted with a smile.

 Borat had no clue what the group was talking about.

"You don't even know who Subaru is?" Altair questioned. "Wait a second... you've got to be kidding me..."

he muttered, bewildered, at the end. His mood was still low; he wanted to play GTA VI.

"Why are you so sad? You are in a European country with enough money to buy my village!" he tried to cheer Borat up.

A crowd of faces crumpled at his words.

Altair looked at him in utter frustration. "Can't you see how screwed we are?! No, of course not, you don't know anything...

"Mimimimi, smile a little bit, fucking pussycat.

Altair's jaw dropped to the floor.

Mohammed came to the rescue. "Hey, hey, don't go too far! He's having a bad moment.

"Bad time? I'm in Uzbekistan. A guy burned my book and I got arrested, we all got arrested, I'm having a bad time, and I'm not crying like a little pussy." Borat... Maybe he had a point?

"Excuse me right now!" demanded a furious Altair.

"Force me beach!"

"Come here, you son of a...!" Altair exclaimed furiously.

He tried to lunge at Borat with his fists raised. Only to trip over his own feet and smash his face into a nightstand.

"Ouch!" Loop groaned in pain.

Loop quickly tried to help Altair, while preventing Borat from being beaten up by him.

Altair tried to stop the blood from flowing down his chin.

"Myff Teetffh!" he hissed as a stream of blood spurted from his mouth.

The entire room fell silent for several seconds.

Only to see Altair speak in a strange and incredibly stupid way. A loud chorus of shouts and murmurs erupted in the room, talking about "references," while Borat stared at the bloodstain that was Altair.

Some, like Takeshi and Roa, even had to stifle a treacherous laugh.

"Damn it, don't laugh!" he screamed again.

That only made more people's faces turn red as they covered their mouths to keep from laughing at the misfortune of others.

Altair wasn't helping them in that regard, not in the slightest.

Borat watched the situation in bewilderment, not knowing what to do. Until he saw Altair try to curse, only to let out squeals instead of actual insults caused by the pain; he looked like a circus monkey, screaming and pushing the bars of his cage.

Borat's eyes widened; something had clicked inside him. He quickly pointed at him.

"Just like my brother Bilo! He is very retarded," he pointed out as Altair growled at him. "And he has HIV," he added, adding more fuel to Altair's fury.

Altair's breathing quickened deeply. He looked like a rabid animal.

"OKAY! Let's all calm down!" Mohammed ordered, as he watched Altair struggle with Loop.

He looked like a bull.

Mohammed shook his head, trying to get those thoughts out of his head. "Borat, take a break," he tried to reason.

"It's just a little wound, we'll be fine. I've seen worse things coming out of my wife's vagina."

He only received insults from Altair.

"Yep, just like my brother Bilo. I must congratulate you for letting him loose," he said while giving Altair one last look. "I would not dare to take him out of his cage.

"I'M GOING TO KICK YOU!" Altair shouted furiously.

"On top of that, he's gay, truly a shame," he added. "You must really like him if you didn't sacrifice him... yet," he said, giving Mohammed a pat on the shoulder.

Roa couldn't hold back his laughter any longer.

"Hahahahaha!" he laughed like never before.

He banged on the nightstand, where Altair had crashed. Looking closely, you could see two front teeth stuck to the edge of the nightstand. 

Roa saw this and then turned to look at Altair.

"Whaf?!"

Roa could only laugh even harder.

Soon Takeshi followed suit.

"Hahahahaha!" he laughed, clutching his stomach.

"STOP LAUGHING!" Mohammed shouted.

"Whoa, both of you scream more than Jews looking for money!

"Did you call me a Jew?" he asked, confused.

Borat's stupid, naive smile was all he needed as an answer.

"You didn't even say hello to me to find out my religion!" he replied, offended.

He was the only one who hadn't met Borat, and his first impression was proving to be unforgettable, to say the least.

"Oh, you are right!" Borat apologized, quickly approaching Mohammed. "I didn't even greet you!" he said, extending his arms to give a glorious Kazakh-style greeting, completely ignoring his past behavior.

Altair was still on the ground moaning and "insulting" him. With two front teeth missing.

Borat ignored him, thinking he was mentally disabled.

He quickly approached Mohammed, only to attempt a kiss on the unsuspecting Arab's left cheek, just as he was on his way to the second.

"WOAH WOAH! No, no, no, NO!" Mohammed pushed Borat away, surprised by the opposition to his actions.

Borat looked at him confused, his arms still raised in the air.

"What's the problem, my terrorist friend? That's how we greet each other in the glorious country of Kazakhstan!

Mohammed's eyes widened; one by one, many others followed suit.

"Wait! REALLY? Is that Borat?" Ramsi asked.

Now he was seriously doubting it. He really believed that he was just an actor too immersed in his role.

Now there was only one thought in his mind: How the hell was this situation even possible? It was one thing to receive an Isekai, but it was quite another to have a character from a black comedy movie standing right in front of him.

Roa was thinking the same thing, but in a slightly different way.

"The multiverse is real?!"

"Damn, I hope this Subaru is a woman," he prayed mentally to the ancient gods.

"Of course I'm Borat, the second best journalist in the glorious country of Kazakhstan!

A facial tic formed on Mohammed's face.

His fist clenched and turned a sharp white.

"Wait, did you also call me a terrorist?!" Mohammed complained, clearly offended, as he asked Borat. He really wasn't expecting that.

"You are one! Right? You are dressed just like one of my friends, Bin Laden! You know about 9/11?

Mohammed had to use all his willpower not to imitate a rabid Altair.

"Listen..." he said, trying to soften his voice and failing in the process. "Wearing these clothes doesn't mean I'm a terrorist!" he explained impatiently.

"Yeah, sure, pal, I know how it is, wink wink.

Fuck being civilized!

"WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY?!" he shouted as a multitude of veins filled his face, almost looking like a character from Baki.

Altair wished with all his heart that Mohammed would turn Borat into a paste of meat and sauce.

"Are you angry? You're not going to blow up this whole place, right?" Borat put his hands in front of him as if trying to protect himself.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Roa laughed even louder.

"WHAT?!! NO, I'm not going to blow anything up, you crazy racist bastard!!!" Mohammed, desperate to explain, began speaking his native language, only causing Borat to panic even more.

"Oh no!!! He is going to nain eleven me, I am out of this," he said alarmingly.

Borat rushed to grab his suitcase, approaching the table and accidentally knocking it to the floor.

The suitcase opened and strange clothes and a chicken spilled out. A DAMN CHICKEN! What the hell is going on? This wasn't in my contract!

"Stop complaining!"

"Okay, okay... idiot."

"Mai chicken!!

The reaction of the people in the room was immediate; a series of mixed voices began to be heard, although some phrases could still be distinguished:

"Woah, get that thing away! Loop couldn't help but get up from his seat and move to the other side of the room.

"IT'S JUST LIKE IN BORAT!" Nick exclaimed, ecstatic.

"Fuck this shit, I'm out!"

"No, come back here, little one!

"I'm too old for this," said Phil.

He quickly looked for a place to sit down.

"It's like they took him out of the movie!" Ramsi howled, in total shock.

The chicken ran around the room pecking at everything in its path, like a legendary hero searching for a monster to forge his legend, while fleeing from Borat.

"Gotcha!" Nick boasted victoriously.

The chicken was grabbed roughly by Nick.

"Cluck cluck!

"Hey Borat," he greeted him. "Here you go!" "WOAH!

The chicken he had grabbed a second ago began pecking him as if its life depended on it. This caused him to drop it suddenly, sending it flying forward with a shower of feathers falling across the room.

"BOK-BOK-BOK!

Phil turned around to see a multitude of feathers falling on him.

"Huh?!"

His eyes widened in complete confusion.

Only to feel a multitude of pecks and feather blows bombarding his entire face. The pain began to come from his hair; it was being pecked out, leaving bald spots.

"What the hell?!"

All he could see was a white blur tangled in his hair.

"BWAAK!

The sound of a chicken echoed in his ears like a bell tower.

"Chicken? Why do I have a chicken on my head?!"

In desperation, Phil began shaking his head to get rid of the chicken, which was clinging on with all its might.

"It's on my head, IT'S ON MY HEAD!!!" he shouted.

He tried to pull it off his head, like a splinter. But the damn thing had stuck like a tick.

"Calm down, leave it to me!" Ramsi tried to help him, only to get scratched by the feathered monster. "Oh, my hand!" he screamed.

BOK-BOK-BOK!

Meanwhile, Mohammed kept trying to convince Borat, only to fail again and again. Patience had disappeared somewhere in the chaos in Mohammed's mind, and in a burst of anger, he tried to punch him to shut him up once and for all.

But Borat wasn't dumb enough to fall for it, so he moved to his left, where someone was trying to get a ball of feathers out of their face.

Loop exclaimed, "SHIT, YOU HIT PHIL! YOU SON OF A...!

"IT WASN'T MY INTENTION, I SWEAR!

Mohammed tried to explain.

While chaos reigned in the room, John, who had remained silent, took the opportunity to stand up and discreetly approach the door with the intention of escaping the chaos. Taking one last look at the room, he ended up making eye contact with Altair, who was crouched on the floor trying to ease the pain.

"?"

Rule number 37 of the man's article, paragraph 12: "Never make unintentional eye contact with an unknown man. Unless you're gay."

"What are you looking at?" he asked openly, as if he had seen two men holding hands in the state of Mississippi.

Altair was not helping in the slightest with his attitude, that much was clear.

"EVERYONE CALM DOWN!" Mohammed shouted, trying to restore order to the room.

John hesitated for a second, watching to see what would happen.

"PLEASE DON'T NAIN ILEVEN USS!" Borat, who had forgotten about it, raised his hands in panic, afraid of being blown up.

He quickly turned to look at Borat with a murderous glare.

"FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM NOT A TERRORIST!

The world almost swore, seeing Borat shit his pants in fear.

"YOU PUNCH THE PUSSY CAT!

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!

Mohammed failed to restore order and started arguing with Borat, trying to convince him that he didn't commit the September 11 attacks.

Everyone was arguing with each other, the chaos in the room was senseless, and the only sign of security was the shouting. Meanwhile, the culprit of the chaos continued to peck at Phil, who was presumably unconscious on the floor, leaving marks for posterity.

"KIFF HIM! KIFF HIM!" chanted Altair.

He knew that sooner or later, Mohammefl would get fed up with Borat and turn him into a meatball.

"I'm not homosexual!" Borat replied sharply.

That was the last straw.

"BASSTARD...!"

*CLACK*

John quickly regretted having faith.

 Making the decision he thought most prudent, he fled the scene, walking down the hallway where he happened to run into the same maid he had seen earlier. Her expression showed fury meekly contained in a smile that could only be described as "terrifying."

"Excuse me... May I ask what all this commotion is about?" The maid greeted him with her hand raised "kindly."

"I-I, um..." John tried to find the right words to describe what was happening inside and came to a conclusion. "I'm sorry, but I think I need your help..."

CRASH!

"Squawk! Squawk!"

A loud, panicked squawk echoed throughout the hallway. Accompanied by the echo of wood crashing against the wall, causing the floor to shake for a fraction of a second.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" A thunderous laugh broke the chaos.

Altair, like Mohammed, had noticed the chicken pecking at Phil. He had also seen Mohammed try to chase it away, with little success.

Altair hated Borat.

So when he saw Mohammed so focused, he didn't hesitate for a moment and used all the strength he had in his dominant leg.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"MY CHICKEN!! NOOO!!" Borat shouted.

 Desperate, he closed his suitcase and ran down the hallway in search of his little friend.

Borat fled not to protect his own safety. In reality, he was afraid that Altair was preparing to "assault" his chicken, as his brother did with... animals.

"Hahaha... haha... ha... It was necessary," Altair said as the room watched him in silence.

"....

No one spoke for a few seconds.

"What the hell...?

The maid could only stare at everything with the most WTF look you'd ever see in your life.

"Hey, you! What happened... here...? Where did this guy go?

John had disappeared as if by magic. Not wanting to take responsibility for the situation.

Part V

"A bad day"

A sigh swept through the streets of the capital.

A considerable amount of time had passed since noon, quickly changing to a brighter, redder sun. The heat of the area suffocated him, leaving his clothes sweaty.

"Two hours...

He looked at the screen of his cell phone.

"Two hours, two damn hours..."

A considerable amount of time had passed, something that went by in the blink of an eye; how stressful. As stressful as the sound of a rifle butt firing red-hot machine guns.

"Is this really better?

Thud, he leaned his back against the floor, looking around him.

Hesitating.

Questioning whether everything he saw was really real. Looking at the cobbled streets, feeling the summer sun, smelling the fresh air and, and...

Bullshit.

"Damn it..."

He rubbed his eyes in a desperate attempt to make it all go away.

He couldn't help cursing his luck; yes. He was happy not to have been riddled with holes like aluminum against a fork and perforated until he looked like a battered fence, but... holy God.

"Being shot or receiving an isekai, which could be better?"

John didn't know what to think. This whole situation felt like a cheap comedy.

"A comedy with a big budget, in fact.

He muttered, mesmerized. Dozens of extravagantly dressed characters passed by him.

They looked ridiculous.

But he didn't feel like laughing or smiling.

Instead, he just looked back at his phone, feeling an insatiable urge to smash it on the floor, as it wasn't giving him the answer he wanted.

"It's no use, haa..." he sighed wearily and put his phone away. "I'd better find a place to clear my head.

But did such a place even exist in this world?

He doubted it.

Still, he tried.

He walked from one place to another. Wandering aimlessly through unfamiliar streets, like a foreigner traveling for the first time outside his hometown.

He shouldn't have left home. He regretted it.

"What are the others doing?" he thought as he walked aimlessly.

His memories and information about the situation from a short time ago. They were just meaningless arguments and comments like, "FOR THE LAST TIME, I'M NOT A TERRORIST!"

He couldn't help feeling disappointed that it had all ended in such a stupidly hilarious situation. He felt as if Od Laguna himself was using his life as entertainment.

That was why he ended up walking away.

His head was too busy processing all the events that had colored his day. Mugged, shot at, burning clothes, running until he ended up crossing an alley that led him to a damn fountain, full of screams and more chaos than he was already experiencing.

"And then an isekai.

A damn isekai.

How did a normal morning end up with him? Him?! In a place like this!

He wanted to tear his eyes out, feeling that it was all a horrible lie.

He bit his lip, anxious and helpless. The more he thought about it, the worse his situation felt.

 What about his parents? His friends? Had they noticed his disappearance yet? What happened to the thief?

So many questions, and he had no way of answering them.

He turned around at the intersection where he was standing. Between two wooden houses that were in "acceptable" condition for a medieval country. Half-rotten, dusty boards full of cracks that revealed an unknown darkness in their depths. He was surprised they were still standing.

Venturing into a dimly lit alley, he was greeted by dusty wooden boxes and piles of trash. Filling the void that should have been in that abandoned place; looking more closely, he noticed layers of dust and mold everywhere.

"Does anyone even maintain these places?

He prayed that they did.

Because with such a large population in such a poorly maintained and unhygienic area, it was the perfect recipe for a cholera epidemic.

Maybe I should turn around and investigate that issue? Getting sick with cholera without any medicine available was a serious matter.

"I remember there was a river a few meters from here."

They clumsily ventured into the alley. But not before checking that there was no one behind them or in the depths of the alley. He didn't want to make the same mistake twice.

"Okay," he narrowed his eyes doubtfully. "There's no one here."

He unconsciously let out a sigh. An unconscious weight that had been weighing on his back disappeared as if by magic.

Having checked his surroundings, he began to walk briskly.

Relieved that everything was going so well...

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

His bones trembled with recognition.

"Are you kidding me...?"

He wanted to run, but he noticed two figures looming behind him. One tall and sturdy, the other short with a head that could easily be mistaken for a mushroom.

Both figures seemed strangely familiar; his eyes widened. It couldn't be, it was them.

"If you don't want to get hurt, hand over everything you have!

A mushroom-shaped brown-haired dwarf threatened him.

"And don't even think about trying to run away!" Another voice echoed behind him.

He impulsively turned around.

A skinny man with blue hair blocked the other exit of the alley; they had him cornered.

"You've got to be kidding me," he whispered to himself.

"Hey, what are you waiting for?!"

The dwarf didn't give him time to think and threatened him with a knife.

"Wait! W-We can work something out!" Frightened, he raised his hands in surrender. "Y-You just want my valuable stuff, right?

"What the hell are you planning, kid?" asked a burly, robust man standing next to the dwarf. "I'm warning you, we're not here for jokes.

"J-Just listen to me.

He quickly reached into his pocket, keeping his eyes on the thieves in front of him. Unfortunately, he couldn't do the same with the other guy behind him. Fortunately, the trio of thieves didn't do anything for a few seconds, giving him time to take out his phone.

"Look, this is a... A flashlight!" He quickly turned it on and showed it to them, partially illuminating the alley. "You could sell it for a lot of gold coins, or even a dozen Santa coins! This is the only thing I have of real value, the rest I'm carrying is just dirty clothes and worthless junk.

Both the dwarf and the burly man stared mesmerized at his phone. Glowing in the dark, he felt a part of his mind rejecting the idea of handing over the only object that could give him the chance to hear and see his parents. That stupid voice fell silent, knowing full well that at most this precious opportunity would only last a few hours, after which it would become useless.

The seconds passed in an incredibly uncomfortable silence for John. A cold fear ran through John's bones. He hoped, no, prayed that the same situation would repeat itself.

The dwarf was the first to snap out of it and looked at his burly companion.

"What do you think, Gaston?" He quickly pointed his knife at the boy in front of them. "His backpack looks too heavy to just carry clothes and useless junk. Besides, if they're noble clothes, they must be worth a lot."

"Tsk! Don't think too much about it, let's just check the backpack and see if he's telling the truth. After all, there's no point in negotiating."

John's face paled at that moment. Metal scraped against the wall, and the dwarf walked with great momentum in his direction, banging the knife against the wall, as if it were a silent threat.

"Hey!" I called out.

John swallowed hard and raised both hands, seriously doubting what would happen next.

"You heard him, now drop everything and...!"

"GUARDS! GUARDS! REINHARD!

Hearing John's sudden cry for help, the trio jumped in fright. The suspense that filled the alley was broken, curses filled the alley, accompanied by cries for help that had surely reached the main street.

"Are you... are you kidding me?! Why the hell are you going to start calling for help!? In situations like this, you're supposed to listen to us, so you don't get hurt, you idiot! That's not normal!

"Guards! Someone, anyone! Please!!

Ignoring their complaints, John shouted again for the third time with all his might.

Listening to them was pointless. He knew perfectly well that entrusting his life to a thief was the same as handing it over to danger. Who in their right mind obeys their own assailant to the letter? All they had to do was check his backpack and find nothing of value, and out of spite, they would decide to stab him.

"Stop ignoring me, you bastard!

In response, he just started shouting louder and louder for help, as quickly and loudly as he could. There must have been a guard looking for him, since he hadn't reported his departure... which didn't bode well. But he had no other choice. His best option was to shout and get the attention of people on the street as quickly as possible. Surely the guards would find him and save him.

But no one came.

"Damn it... why don't you ever show up when someone really needs your help?

Frustrated, I want to curse all the ancestors of the Astrea family. For a hero like that, you might as well give the divine protections to a pug, he'd do a better job. Or better yet, give him the divine blessing of the pug: Reinhard is now having trouble breathing.

"What the hell was that?! Damn idiot!

Furious, the dwarf quickly approached.

Frightened, he looked around for an escape route.

Maybe if he kicked the dwarf and stole his knife, he could use it to threaten him, hold the blade to his neck, and force the others to back off. Maybe then he would have a chance to escape.

He didn't have time to try.

Hands grabbed his hood and pulled him back violently. The fabric tightened against his throat, almost strangling him.

"Fuck this, let go of the damn thing!

Pushed against the wall, John felt a hand try to forcefully rip his cell phone away from him. Resisting and struggling, the two began a fight over the object.

"Damn it... Camberley, let's help Rachins! Take the damn phone and let's get out of here! I think someone's coming.

Watching out of the corner of his eye as the two rats lunged at him, he tensed his neck and threw his head back to break free from their grip. As soon as he managed to break free, he pushed himself toward the exit, almost dragging his feet.

"Ghh! You're not going anywhere!

His run ended abruptly. The same hand that had tried to grab him by his clothes earlier now closed tightly around him. The pull almost ripped his feet off the ground, the momentum shaking his body like a whip. He spun around in anger, without thinking, and kicked blindly behind him.

"Let go of me, you bastard!

Brutal pressure crushed his neck from behind. The bastard was trying to strangle him; without thinking, he delivered a violent elbow strike to his attacker. The impact found no bone or defense, only soft flesh that gave way under the blow.

"Aggg! Damn you, Camberley! Take this, you bastard!

"Don't touch me!"

Frustrated, John pushed Rachins against the wall, slamming him against the concrete.

"Get off me!

Frustrated that the damn rat wouldn't let go, he slammed his body and skull against the concrete again.

"I've got her!

A groan of pain erupted behind him. The pressure on his neck suddenly disappeared and air rushed back into his lungs in a desperate gasp. His windpipe burned as if he had swallowed fire, but he had no time for that. He had to get his phone back and run.

His gaze met that of the dwarf, who was just a few inches from his torso, staring at him with black, owl-like eyes and ears. In his left hand, he held his phone.

He abruptly tried to snatch it away.

"Give me back my...!

He felt intense heat, he was burning; he wanted to scream in pain, but a fist flew into his face and slammed him against the wall. His brain vibrated as it hit the brick and concrete wall, lights and spots of different colors danced before his eyes. A concussion.

Among the multitude of chaotic spots, one stood out above all others: red; a scarlet red. The damn dwarf had stabbed him in the leg.

"Is this my blood?"

He clumsily tried to stand up straight, and then began to run. It was useless. He was easily caught and knocked to the ground; it was Rachins. His nose was broken and blood filled his lips.

"What the hell are you doing, Rachins? We already have the damn metia, let's get out of here!

"No, Gaston. This bastard is going to pay for this.

"H-Hey, calm down, let's talk..."

A punch was his only response.

Then two.

And three.

He tried to defend himself as best he could, but there was little he could do beyond blocking the occasional blow with his arms.

Blow after blow, as if he were a meat grinder. And all he could do was cover his face pathetically.

"Hey, stop it!" Annoyed, Gaston had to grab his partner by the arm and force him to get up. "We don't have time for this, Rachins. The guards are coming."

"No! That bastard just broke my...!"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN! We're not going to jail for your stupid mistakes! So stop acting like a complete idiot, and let's get out of here... Oh, don't fuck with me." John was gone. "Hey, come back here!"

Taking advantage of the little argument they were having, John got up and ran off in the opposite direction. Now that no one was guarding the other end of the alley, he had a clear path to escape.

"Shit, shit, shit.

Blood dripped onto the ground with every step. He felt his legs getting weaker and the weight of his body getting heavier and heavier.

"Catch him! We can't let him get out of here! If he does, the knights will cover that exit too.

A multitude of footsteps could be heard from the trio's side. It seemed that a crowd of guards or people were coming to investigate the commotion.

"Idiot, you should have let me take care of him!

"Shut up, Rachins, we don't have time for this!"

Desperate because they also started running in his direction, John began to shout for help.

"REINHAAARDD! JULIUUUS! ANYONE! PLEASE!

Because his leg had been stabbed, his speed of movement was not as good as before. Each step was incredibly painful and bloody, which weakened him by leaps and bounds.

"GUARDS!

His lungs burned incessantly.

"Just shut up, idiot!

Furious that the whole situation had escalated too far, Rachins sped up and rammed into John, preventing him from continuing to shout.

"LET ME GO!

 He tried to kick him, but only ended up staining the floor with more blood.

"Help me with this bastard!

"DAMN IT!

In less than a few seconds, the other two caught up with them. Gaston was the first to arrive and kick him in the face. Camberley could only hold the knife, hesitating about what to do.

"Stop wasting time, Rachins!

Fed up with his partner's stupidity, Gaston ended up punching him in the face. His only job was to steal the damn metia, not start beating him up like he was a sack of meat.

"What the hell is wrong with you?

"Shut up! Just get your damn ass up and move!

Lying on the ground, covered in a pool of his own blood, John managed to see a silhouette enter the alley. The silhouette was blurry, just a black smudge on a white background.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?

Help had arrived, but John didn't feel relieved. They had taken too long, and now he was seriously injured, without his phone, and still at the mercy of these idiots.

Why were they all so useless? It wasn't fair, he hated it.

"Move, move, move! Don't waste time, Rachins.

Gaston wasted no time and helped his partner up off the ground. They had to get out of there.

"Don't even think about running, you're under arrest!"

Another voice burst into the alley. More hurried footsteps could be heard approaching.

Frustrated faces filled the trio's group. John noticed it. And he found it amusing. So amusing that he refused to let that bitter satisfaction escape him.

"AHHHG! MY LEG!

He wasn't going to let those bastards get away with it.

If he ended up screwed, so would they.

He lunged forward and sank his teeth into Rachins' leg.

"Let go of me!

Blood began to spurt from between his jaws. John didn't hold back. He smiled, red and sinister.

"FUCK! Ahhhhg!

"Let go of him!

The smile died.

A new heat shot through his side. Burning... and at the same time freezing. Once again he had been stabbed, only this time in the side.

The air left him.

"Run!" Gaston shouted.

He lifted his companion up, almost dragging him along. At the end of the alley, the knights burst in and began the chase. The dwarf and the scrawny guy didn't take long to run off in the opposite direction.

John could only watch helplessly as they disappeared. Gaston, on the other hand, stayed a second longer. Hesitating. Thinking about how to buy some time.

"Damn it..."

He looked at John and, with a hint of guilt crossing his face, did something that left the boy completely confused. He lifted him off the ground by his shirt.

"W-What are you... No, no... no, no, no!

Out of the corner of his eye, John noticed something that made his blood run cold: a river.

Then he understood. That alley wasn't an alley at all, but a narrow makeshift bridge over a dark riverbed. Between the walls was a narrow opening, barely visible in the dim light, poorly lit enough for the water to be mistaken for an abyss.

The teenager felt his stomach sink.

"Help!

he pleaded, looking desperately at the guards, who at that moment understood Gaston's intentions.

But they reacted too late.

John's body was thrown into the void. For a second there was nothing... and then darkness devoured everything.