"Geez... what a sloppy elf..."
Suzuki took a slow, deep breath, desperately trying to calm his racing heart. He reached out to pull a thick, woven blanket over Anrietta's sleeping form, mostly because her current posture was a little too... risky. If he was being entirely honest, it was a sleeping posture completely unbefitting of a dignified, long-lived elf. How could she be so incredibly careless around him?
Wasn't she supposed to be the elite spymaster of the Armed Nation of Dwargon?
Her nightclothes were practically nonexistent—scarcely more than thin strips of fabric that clung dangerously to her curves—revealing far too much of her smooth, pale skin. It was a brutal, in-your-face reminder of just how devastatingly charming she was as a full-grown woman. The gentle rise and fall of her chest, the long line of her legs, the soft curve of her hips, and the way her golden-blonde hair—usually tied up in a strict, professional braid—now fell in a messy, breathtaking halo across the pillows... it was all simply too stunning to behold.
Yet, Suzuki forced his hands to his sides. He knew it was fundamentally wrong to act without clear, spoken consent. If she permitted him, it would be an entirely different story. But looking at her, he couldn't help but feel a sudden spike of anxiety. His life in this fantasy world had introduced him to high-tier dryads, newly evolved goblinas, and now an elite elf spymaster. He genuinely feared his tastes had become so uniquely warped that he might never be satisfied with a normal human woman ever again.
Dammit!
If only he had a human lover to ground him. If he did, he firmly believed his lingering humanity would be safely anchored.
He needed to leave the tent to cool his head. Yet, just as he turned to slip out into the cold night air, Anrietta's long eyelashes fluttered. Her emerald eyes opened, gleaming with a mischievous, entirely sober light.
"You're really not going to do anything?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep and amusement.
Suzuki froze, glancing back over his shoulder. "Do you want me to do anything?"
A teasing smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Chicken~."
Anrietta openly mocked him. Suzuki blinked, his mind short-circuiting for a fraction of a second before he simply stared down at her in a heavy, dangerous silence.
The air in the small tent suddenly shifted, growing impossibly thick.
"..."
"I..." Anrietta's smirk faltered. She instantly realized she had poked a sleeping dragon and immediately regretted her bold words.
But Suzuki didn't leave. Instead, he sat back down on the edge of the bedroll, his shadow falling over her. He reached out, his fingers gently but firmly tracing the line of her jaw.
"So, it's okay, then?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
"....." Anrietta couldn't find her voice.
How old was she again? She certainly wasn't a young, naive girl anymore. She never liked to mention her actual age, well aware that compared to him, she was ancient. Technically, it wouldn't be weird for him to call her a great-grandmother, or perhaps even older. Yet, even with all her decades of life experience, as Suzuki leaned closer, capturing her hands and pressing his lips fiercely against hers, she blushed furiously like a maiden experiencing her very first romance.
She melted into his embrace, eagerly returning the kiss. The teasing was over. The thin thread of restraint completely snapped, and neither of them held anything back. In the suffocating heat of the tent, they surrendered to their buried desires, their heavy breathing intertwining as the night finally swallowed them whole.
Outside the tent, the village remained surprisingly peaceful.
Racial evolution was no simple feat in this world. It could be achieved through a one-in-a-million stroke of luck, centuries of agonizing hard work, being born with monstrous innate talent, or simply being blessed by an anomaly like Rimuru Tempest.
As for Suzuki? His evolution was born of pure, desperate necessity. If he hadn't forced his body to adapt, he would have long since become a rotting corpse, serving as nothing more than fertilizer for the Jura Forest's soil. It was a combination of survival instinct and the sheer, broken utility of his Unique Skills: Manager and Self-Made.
If any other ordinary human from Earth had been dropped into his shoes, they would be dead. They certainly wouldn't possess the unnatural charm required to seduce a high-tier spirit like Treyni, nor the adaptive abilities that allowed for natural evolution.
Thus, while Suzuki slept soundly through the aftermath of his extremely busy night, the morning sun finally broke over the horizon, bringing a new day to the forest.
Rimuru Tempest, entirely refreshed from his own long, magicule-depleted slumber, bounced out of his tent with great spirits.
"Good morning, everyone!"
"GOOD MORNING, RIMURU-SAMA!"
The entire village echoed with a booming, unified greeting. The evolved hobgoblins and goblinas paused their morning chores, bowing deeply with bright, utterly devoted smiles. They truly saw Rimuru as their god—a benevolent deity they would gladly lay down their lives for without a single second of hesitation.
"Hu-mu! Please, carry on with your hard work! I'm just going to take a walk around the village!"
"Yes, Rimuru-sama!"
As the villagers happily returned to their tasks, Rimuru bounced along the dirt paths. He felt a strange, bubbling sense of pride. The small, broken-down goblin settlement he had first encountered was rapidly transforming into a thriving, organized community.
Sure, it might not have the plumbing or the skyscrapers of modern-day Japan, Rimuru thought, but I can feel it. This place is going to evolve into something amazing.
"By the way, where is Suzuki-kun?" Rimuru asked aloud.
One of the nearby goblinas smiled politely. "Ah, if it's Suzuki-sama, it seems he hasn't woken up yet. We did not dare to disturb his rest."
"Well, that makes sense." Rimuru nodded his gelatinous body. It would be incredibly rude to wake up a guest. "But man, that guy is really lazy!"
Rimuru sighed inwardly, though he harbored no real ill will. After all, he was the one who desperately needed Suzuki's help. Suzuki possessed an incredibly broken spatial storage ability.
Well, I have the Predator skill's stomach, Rimuru thought defensively.
But still, the way Suzuki utilized his Manager skill to create a literal magical courier network—setting up branch nodes to instantly transfer goods directly to customers like a fantasy version of Amazon Prime—blew Rimuru's mind.
That guy is just built entirely different. Who gets reincarnated into a magical fantasy world and immediately thinks, 'Ah, yes, I should establish a monopolized logistics and delivery corporation'?
Suzuki had definitely been working hard, so if he wanted to sleep in, it was completely understandable.
Wait a minute...
Rimuru abruptly stopped bouncing. "Ranga! Ranga!"
"Yes, my Master!"
Ranga, the massive, intimidating leader of the Tempest Starwolves, instantly materialized from Rimuru's shadow. The terrifying beast immediately lowered its massive head, submitting completely before the small slime, its eyes glowing with intense loyalty.
"Sorry for calling you out so suddenly, Ranga..."
"Please, do not apologize, Master! Anything for you. Do you need me to eradicate an enemy? Even if I must cross a mountain of blazing fire or part a vast sea filled with leviathans, I shall do it for you without hesitation!"
"...No, no, it's fine. Nothing like that." Rimuru sweatdropped at the sheer intensity of the wolf's devotion. "I just... I have a quick question to ask you."
To avoid drawing too much attention, Rimuru kept his voice low, and Ranga obligingly shrunk his massive body down to the size of a normal husky. The villagers noticed the interaction, but assuming their Lord was simply having fun with his pet, they respectfully kept their distance.
Ranga's tail wagged furiously, practically creating a mini-tornado. He was just so happy that Rimuru was relying on him!
"What is it, Rimuru-sama?"
"Well... do you remember Suzuki-kun's secretary?"
"You mean the blonde elf female, Rimuru-sama?"
"Y-Yes, that one." Rimuru bobbed up and down nervously. "They... they stayed in different tents last night, right?"
Rimuru had passed out immediately after naming the goblins, leaving Suzuki entirely unattended. Surely Suzuki wasn't sharing a bed with his absolutely gorgeous, mature elf secretary, right? If he was, the age-rating of this particular Isekai adventure was definitely climbing out of the 'All-Ages' demographic!
Wait, even if they share a tent, maybe they didn't do anything... Rimuru rationalized. If it's like a standard light novel, the protagonist usually just gets flustered and does absolutely nothing. That has to be it, right?
Even so, the sheer thought of sleeping next to an elf beauty made Rimuru weep internal tears of intense jealousy.
"Ah," Ranga answered brightly, completely oblivious to his master's inner turmoil. "They slept together in the same tent, Master."
"....."
But nothing happened... right?
[Notice. Do not avert your eyes from reality. According to the ambient heat signatures and acoustic vibrations detected throughout the night, the truth is indisputable.]
The Great Sage's mechanical, emotionless voice delivered the fatal blow without a shred of mercy.
"GODDAMMIT!"
Rimuru violently slammed his squishy body against the dirt, crying imaginary tears of blood. Why was he reincarnated as a genderless, smooth slime while that guy was out here living the ultimate fantasy dream?!
Yet, while Rimuru wallowed in his comedic despair, a genuine crisis was rapidly approaching.
At the far edges of the Jura Forest, just outside the perimeter of the goblin village, a desperate group of human adventurers was sprinting through the dense underbrush. Their armor was cracked, their breathing ragged, and their eyes wide with sheer terror as they were relentlessly hunted by a horde of monstrous beasts.
Among them was a figure whose arrival would soon violently shift the fate of Rimuru Tempest... and perhaps even Suzuki.
"RUN, SHIZU-SAN! DON'T LOOK BACK!"