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If Akira was going to apply stereotypical RPG elements to this new world he found himself in, he would sadly have to label himself as a ‘Lvl 1 Adventurer’.
He was a newbie fresh out of the gate, so low levelled even a Slime was a threat to his life. Considering Slimes had the same mental capacity as mildly sentient mould growing out of someone’s neglected fridge, this was an embarrassing fact to accept. Akira was weak enough to be mugged by an entity that didn’t understand the concept of money.
(“But, if Slimes are that dumb, how come they drop gold when you kill them?” Akira asked his new guide to this world: the ever reliable and super adorable Morgana.
“They’re attracted to the shine and think it’s food, so they eat it,” Morgana said.
“Oh.” )
Goro seemed to think Akira’s understandable fragility was a Problem.
“You can’t sign up to the Adventurer’s Guild without any combat experience,” the demon lord said grumpily, having stopped them a few miles short of their destination. They were in a wide, open field, very green and very ‘beginning of an RPG hero’s adventure’-esque, with a a small flock (herd? gang?) of Slimes wobbling in aimless circles eating grass, or whatever it was they did in their free time.
“According to their terms and conditions, combat experience isn’t mandatory to join,” Akira said, having been given a very condensed profile about the Adventurer’s Guild thanks to Morgana. The Cait Sith also thought it prudent to give him the statistics of how many Adventurers survived their first year, though Akira felt like that little factoid didn’t need to be shared (less than twenty per cent survived their first year. LESS THAN TWENTY PER CENT- )
“Shut up and take my sword,” was Goro’s brilliant reply to that, and with a wave of his hand, summoned forth a monstrously huge sword that was clearly for a Lvl 99 Demon Lord and not poor noodle-armed Akira.
“Uh,” Akira tried, but Goro shoved the sword into his hands before he could even finish. He held it for approximately 0.1 seconds before promptly dropping it, narrowly avoiding chopping off his own foot in the process.
“Oh my god,” Goro said in utter disbelief.
“Don’t ‘oh my god ’ me! It weighs, like, a hundred tonnes!” Akira shouted defensively, pointing at the crimson sword smouldering in the grass. Its blade was wider than Akira’s damned hand and the length was a few inches shy of his full height, “How am I meant to pick that up and swing it around?!”
After a brief argument that lasted until Goro’s enchanted fire-sword almost caused a small grass fire, they compromised with a far more compact, beginner-friendly dagger instead. It was a magical dagger, of course, though when Akira took it it looked like an ordinary steak knife. Either way it was light and carried less chance of accidental dismemberment.
“Slimes are easy prey,” Goro began once he was satisfied that Akira knew which end of the dagger was the pointy bit, “They’re slow, stupid and have the constitution of a brittle twig. Even a child can kill them.”
“It’s as easy as killing a house spider,” Morgana said encouragingly.
“I don’t like killing spiders, though,” Akira admitted, “It feels kinda mean.”
Goro and Morgana shared a look that spoke volumes.
“...go kill the Slime, Akira,” Goro finally ordered, pointing towards the gaggle (murder? pack?) of Slimes innocently ambling in the field behind him.
“We’ll be behind you in case you need help,” Morgana said, hopping off Akira’s shoulder and shapeshifting into his cute mascot form. He settled a paw on his hip, where his silver machete-like weapon hung, “If you start to struggle, I’ll come and beat those Slimes up!”
“Aw, Mona…” Akira smiled, “I knew I could count on you.”
“I won’t help you,” Goro added gruffly, “My equal should be able to kill a damned Slime without assistance.”
“Aw, Goro…” Akira pouted, “I thought I could count on you…”
After that inspiring (?) peptalk, Akira reluctantly dragged himself towards the crew (school? pod?) of Slimes with clammy hands and a nervous pulse. It was just a Slime, this was true. It was a ball of wobbling jelly barely bigger than a basketball, with a pair of googly eyes for comical effect - it shouldn’t be intimidating. But it was. Because Akira knew nothing about fighting except that one time he accidentally slapped some asshole politician and got arrested for assault.
Urgh, don’t think about that right now!
As Akira drew closer to the colony (swarm? troop?) of Slimes, one noticed him and peeled away from the rest. It was a shade of bright blue, googly eyes wobbling about on its slimy skin and about as threatening as a block of gelatin oozing across white tablecloth. Akira held his dagger a little tighter, holding it out in front of him and setting his feet apart.
One problem, he noticed immediately, was that the Slime was small. Like, not even up to his knees small. How was he going to stab it? He’d have to squat down and, what, skewer it like a marshmallow? But that’d move his face close to it - what if it decided to launch itself at him at mach one speeds? Speaking of, how did a Slime even attack someone anyway? Did it just ooze all over their boots menacingly?
“You can do it, Akira!” Morgana cheered somewhere behind him, and when Akira chanced a glance over his shoulder, he saw the cute Cait Sith jumping up and down shaking brightly coloured pom-poms in the air. Where the- where did he even get those!?
what is with the anachronism of this world? Akira wondered.
Alas, the mystery of that would have to be pondered another day. The Slime, far more ornery than Akira predicted, grew tired of waiting for this strange, two-legged creature to take their turn. With an ominous gurgling noise, the Slime rippled, compressing its form tight before launching itself upwards like a miniaturised cannonball-
-and impaled itself on Akira’s outstretched dagger.
“Ergh!” Akira, not expecting this in the slightest, leapt about a full foot in the air and flung his now Slime-covered knife away from him with a high-pitched shriek. The jelly-coated weapon sailed in a graceful arc, dripping bright blue Slime-blood throughout its journey, only to land with a loud, solid ‘thmp’ in the middle of the band (team? nest?) of Slimes.
The Slimes paused.
Akira covered his mouth, stifling a gasp.
“I cannot believe,” Goro’s voice said somewhere behind him, “this man is my equal.”
Then the Slime Nation attacked en masse.
They arrived at the town just as the sun was sinking below the horizon, tired, dirty and covered in Slime-viscera. It smelled like artificial strawberries.
“I don’t know how you managed to enrage three hives of Slimes simultaneously,” Goro said stonily, his crimson eyes locked somewhere beyond the town. He radiated wrath like a rumbling volcano ready to erupt, but Akira was beyond fear now after witnessing Slimageddon. He was going to see those googly eyes in his nightmares for weeks to come.
“Hives,” Akira repeated, “So that’s what their groups are called. I was settling on slurry.”
“Slurry,” Goro parrotted.
“Yeah, like, you know…” Akira made a vague gesture to represent something like a smoothie, “All gooey and thick.”
Goro stared at him.
“Can we find the inn already? I’m exhausted...” Morgana moaned. The poor Cait Sith was hanging limply over Akira’s shoulder after teleporting all three of them out of the jaws of slimy deaths. It seemed even a zerg rush of Lvl 1 Slimes could overwhelm a demon lord of Goro’s calibre. Terrifying. Truly, Slimes were the ultimate predator in this world.
“Yeah, I have slime where slime shouldn’t be,” Akira agreed, scratching at the underside of his jaw, “I could kill for a bath right now.”
“...I have enough gold for us to spend a night at the inn, provided we share a room,” Goro started to look discomforted, “A one bed room.”
Akira glanced at the demon lord. Being ‘in disguise’, Goro’s horns were hidden away - by shapeshifting or glamour, he wasn’t certain - but his everything else was exactly the same. Those intense eyes, the perfect face, a little softer without the harsh shadows of the horns sharpening his features, and the floofy, honey-coloured hair. To share a bed with him was, quite frankly, a guilty little fantasy that Akira eagerly kindled in his heart.
“One bed, huh?” Akira said, wondering when this isekai became a romantic comedy.
“We can take turns,” Goro said stiffly, “Sleeping in the bed. I require little sleep, anyways.”
“Now, now, I don’t mind sharing if you don’t,” Akira said casually, “Besides, it’s your money paying for this room. I can bunk on the floor if it does bother you. I’ve slept in worse places.”
Like solitary confinement, he did not say, though the memory of it did linger in the forefront of his mind. He squelched it ruthlessly.
Goro seemed to take Akira’s assurances as a challenge, because the demon lord’s expression firmed, his eyes glittering with some unnamed fire; “I can tolerate sharing a bed with you for one night.”
“You sure?” Akira asked half-heartedly. He really didn’t want to sleep on the floor.
“Completely,” Goro sniffed, sticking his nose up towards the sky and striding forwards with purposeful intent, “Come. We should get a room before the sun fully sets.”
The inn they ended up at was one of the fringe establishments on the outskirts of the town. The first inn they went to was too expensive, being so close to the city centre and Adventurer’s Guild, so they slowly moved from inn to inn until, finally, they encountered one within their budget range. Sure, there was no heating, one bed with no sheets, and a potential rodent problem judging by the scrabbling in the walls, but Akira tried to remain optimistic.
Though, admittedly, that optimism was hard to keep a firm grasp on when Goro almost wrenched the window clear off its hinges when he tried prising it open to let some fresh air seep into the musty room.
“It’s… quaint,” Akira tried.
“What a hovel,” Goro sneered, fixing the tiny box-room their gold had earned them with a look of utter disgust, “Is this what humans consider habitable lodgings nowadays?”
“Only if they’re desperate and poor,” Akira said with mock-cheer, “Which we technically fall under right now.”
“Desp- I am not desperate or poor,” Goro hissed, pivoting on his heel to prod Akira sharply in the shoulder, “I live frugally and am forced to travel afar for your inane plan to-”
“That’s a wordy way of saying ‘yes, I am desperate and poor’,” Akira interrupted, “You need to learn to be more concise with your words, Goro.”
“Concise-!?”
“I’m going to sleep now!” Morgana yowled at them, pointedly jumping onto the bed.
“Sleep sounds pretty good,” Akira said, ignoring Goro’s obvious fuming, “After a shower, of course.”
“A shower?” Goro scoffed loudly, “You think this dump has a shower?”
Akira opened his mouth. Closed it. Realised that there was no ensuite bathroom attached to the room and neither did he recall passing any doors labelled ‘Ablutions’ either. He had an abrupt, sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to like what was coming next.
“What else would it have?” he asked timidly.
Goro smiled at him. It was a mean, smug little smile.
“Why, Akira,” the demon lord purred with vindictive malice, his crimson eyes glittering, “Didn’t you see when we first arrived? This inn has an outhouse, and the ‘bath’ is a bucket and rag-”
“No,” Akira gasped, genuinely scandalised, “But the- the anachronism! Indoor plumbing!?”
“Is not universal,” Goro said, delivering this cruel truth with all the precision of a tactical nuclear strike to Akira’s heart, “The inn has no indoor plumbing, which means no hot showers.”
This was more horrifying than Slimageddon.
“Send me back to the Slimes,” Akira said in bleak despair, “Let God finish what He started.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Goro said, “One bucket wash won’t kill you.”
One bucket wash did, indeed, almost kill him.
“Okay, for the record, I was joking about the Slimes,” Akira said, watching the bubbling remains of the Water Slime (which were a thing apparently) evaporate into the aether. Luckily for him Goro was so ridiculously OP he only had to flick his fingers to atomise any enemies foolish enough to attack them, so the Slime only achieved in drawing a high-pitched squeal from Akira when it jumped out of the bucket without warning.
“It’s strange how you attract their ire so readily,” Goro mused, sounding more curious than annoyed at being ambushed half-naked. He was standing in the middle of their shitty room, stripped down to the waist, his hands on his hips, staring at the wet patch that was once a Water Slime, “They’re normally such docile creatures.”
“They’re bloodthirsty menaces,” Akira muttered under his breath, unable to stop himself from peeking at Goro’s bare chest.
He was fairly muscular, in a lean, well-toned kind of way, with broad-shoulders, powerful arms and a firm chest. Yet, it wasn’t this that kept snatching his attention (though he did memorise the sight while he had the chance). It was the thick scars that rippled over Goro’s sternum, like he took a high-calibre rifle shot to the chest and somehow walked away with half of his ribcage blown open. Akira managed a glimpse at his back and the scarring was even worse there - the exit wound, no doubt.
what the hell happened to you, goro? Akira wondered worriedly, that looks painful...
Goro caught his eye during one of his side-glances, “You might as well ask.”
“Uh, I wasn’t…” Akira faltered, unsure on how to proceed. He was a nosy bastard, but even he was aware that there were lines that shouldn’t be crossed. Goro looked indifferent, though, so he carefully asked, “That scar on your chest, it, uh, looked like it hurt.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Goro said, his expression a perfect mask of neutrality, “My father gave it to me when he tried to kill me as a child.”
Wow.
Akira… had literally no idea what to say to that. What- who admitted that so casually!? Goro said it like he was reciting some fun fact, something so emotionally detached from him it was merely an event that had occurred somewhere, someplace, to someone. Akira stared at him in helpless awkwardness.
“He didn’t like me, you see,” Goro added unnecessarily.
yeah, no shit! Akira thought, “Uh. Yeah. Sounds it.”
Jesus fucking Christ. What did Goro do to have such a shit life, seriously?
“Is he, uh, still running around? Your dad?” Akira found himself asking. There was a quiet voice that wondered if it was this shitty parent oh my god who tried to murder their own kid!? that was the source of all these slanderous rumours about Goro.
“Unfortunately,” Goro said, with such compressed, potent venom Akira was amazed he didn’t drop dead on the spot, “He is still breathing.”
The tension in the room racketed up to suffocating levels. Akira coughed.
“So!” he tried, “Bucket. Bath.”
“Hm? Oh, yes,” Goro snapped out of whatever hateful, vicious daydream he’d been trapped in, the dark, broiling emotion vanishing from his eyes as he turned back to the bucket, “Ah, we will need to refill it. It’s completely empty.”
“I’m not going back outside in the dark,” Akira said, internally relieved that the conversation had moved from monster-infested waters. He played up the ridiculousness in his whine as he added; “What if Slimes attack me again?”
“Normally I would say that is an impossibility but…” Goro eyed him with an air of amused exasperation, “Considering how you almost killed us all by summoning a legion of Slimes on us…”
“That was not my fault.”
“Who was the one who startled the first hive by screaming at the top of their lungs and tripping over their own feet into a second hive?”
“I- that-” Akira had no good comeback for this, “Okay, but you just stood by and laughed until the third hive got involved.”
Goro, without a hint of sympathy or shame, said; “In my defence, it was really funny to watch.”
“Remind me again why I’m helping you?” Akira asked sarcastically.
“I don’t know,” Goro turned to him completely, his tone far too serious for such a lighthearted question, “Why are you?”
“Uh?” Akira, not expecting to be on the receiving end of such an intense look from a half-naked Goro, shifted his weight self-consciously. He played with the rag he’d forgotten he’d been holding, twisting it between his hands as he hitched up a smile.
“Didn’t I tell you already?” Akira said simply, “You’re too pretty to be wrong.”
“That’s not true,” Goro said, something helpless in his tone as his intense gaze wavered. It dipped to the floor between them.
“What isn’t?” Akira murmured, pleased to have regained control of the conversation, “You being pretty? Or you being right?”
Goro didn’t answer. He turned away from him, bending over to pick up the empty bucket. His knuckles were almost white, the knotted wood of the bucket groaning warningly.
“I’m going to refill the water,” Goro said stiltedly.
“Watch out for Slimes,” Akira purred.
Goro practically fled the room, the tips of his ears a little red, and Akira mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done. He sure did enjoy ruffling Goro’s feathers like that.
“You shouldn’t tease Master Loki so much.”
“Holy- ” Akira jumped a little at Morgana’s judgemental voice coming from somewhere around his feet, pressing a hand against his chest as he looked down at the Cait Sith with a wounded expression; “Me? Tease? What a cruel accusation, Mona. ”
Morgana huffed, arching his back as he stretched, being in cute cat form again, “That doesn’t work on me, buster! I invented that innocent look!”
Yeah, Morgana did wear it better. Akira dropped the act, dropping his hand to rest on his hip instead, “Well, I just can’t help it, Mona. Goro looks adorable when flustered.”
“He’s a Demon Lord,” Morgana said, stressing the title into a proper noun, “They’re not adorable.”
“This one is.”
“Humans,” Morgana muttered, and affectionately headbutted his shins, “Well, cute or not, stop teasing him tonight so we can all sleep, at least? Your bath’s taking forever.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” Akira said, leaning down to scoop Morgana up. The Cait Sith was just too cute not to cuddle and nuzzle, in his opinion, “The Water Slime interrupted.”
“We really need to see if you have a curse or a negative trait,” Morgana purred, happily accepting Akira’s fingers tickling his chin, “S’weird Slimes hate you so much.”
“It’s the price I have to pay for landing such a cute servant and a hot demon lord partner, I guess,” Akira said shamelessly, “I’m willing to endure Slimes trying to assassinate me for that.”
But it was kind of weird - and potentially a problem. How was he supposed to help Goro if he kept getting attacked by Slimes every ten minutes?
Then again, wasn’t that why Goro and Morgana were here? To protect his squishy, helpless Lvl 1 Adventurer body while he sniffed out the truth? He just had to make sure he was with one of them at all times, something which he wasn’t complaining about. Morgana was cute, and Goro was hot, both traits Akira shamelessly enjoyed. This was essentially paradise for him right now, compared to back home.
this interdimensional kidnapping is shaping up to be pretty fun, he admitted to himself, it’s a nice escape from…
Well, that didn’t matter. Akira couldn’t fix his problems back home, especially not now, but he could certainly fix Goro’s. That was enough for him. It had to be enough for him.
i’ll help clear your name, Goro, Akira vowed as he carried a half-dozing Morgana back to bed, i couldn’t clear mine, but if i can help you…
It was better than nothing.