"Y-You are from another world, Shizu-san?!"
Rimuru's gelatinous body bounced in sheer disbelief. Hearing the slime's dumbfounded reaction, Shizu slowly reached up and secured the anti-magic mask back over her face, carefully hiding her features—and more specifically, the severe, crimson burn scar etched beneath her eye.
"I am," Shizu nodded softly.
Even through the mask, her focus was undeniably fixed on Suzuki. She could tell he was young. If he had been a grizzled, middle-aged man, she might not have shown as much deep, immediate concern; she knew adults could generally survive on their own. But Suzuki? He was clearly just a university student. Even though he was physically twenty years old, in Shizu's eyes, he was basically still a child thrust into a violent nightmare.
Then again, what exactly defined an 'adult'?
If she had to choose one word to describe that stage of life, it would be "Independent." Being forced to live entirely on your own, without expecting a single soul to take care of you or catch you when you fall. By that definition, this boy was undoubtedly an adult.
Still, as she looked at him with gentle concern, Suzuki was having an intense internal crisis. He really, really did not want to meet Shizu right now.
Shizue Izawa.
If there was one singular reason why Suzuki wanted to stay a mile away from this woman—despite how incredibly charming and tragically beautiful she was—it was because she was the literal catalyst for everything. Practically every single major antagonist, catastrophe, and political nightmare that Rimuru would eventually face in this world was, in some convoluted way, tied directly to this woman.
Yet, looking at her, he had to admit that despite technically being a grandmother in chronological years, Shizu possessed an incredibly youthful, breathtaking appearance.
She had long, dark hair, a petite yet wonderfully womanly figure, and the undeniable, natural beauty of delicate Asian features.
While it was a shame she had to hide that face behind a mask, Suzuki knew exactly why she wore it. And it wasn't just to stay low-key or avoid the attention of rough, scumbag adventurers—though there were plenty of those in this world.
No, Suzuki thought, his eyes narrowing slightly as the Manager analyzed her ambient magical signature. That mask isn't just a piece of armor. It's a magical suppression device. It's the only thing keeping the volatile spirit inside her from erupting. And since she's getting older, her strength is fading. That spirit is about to break out very, very soon.
Moreover... Rimuru is right here.
If Rimuru wasn't around, history might have played out differently. But because the slime was here, destiny was locking into place. Something catastrophic was definitely going to happen soon, and Suzuki was terrified he was going to get violently dragged into the blast radius.
"Do you want to sit down and talk?" Shizu asked softly, her voice carrying a maternal, gentle tone despite the imposing mask.
"..." Suzuki remained silent, calculating his exit strategy.
"Come on, let's go, Suzuki!"
Rimuru eagerly formed a squishy slime-arm and grabbed Suzuki's sleeve, practically pulling him forward. The slime was vibrating with hope; he desperately wanted to talk to another Japanese person.
"...Okay, fine," Suzuki sighed, relenting.
He didn't really want to participate, but he knew exactly how this "Otherworlder Support Group" was going to play out. Because Shizu was chronologically the oldest, she naturally took the lead, quietly recounting the story of how she was violently summoned to this world, her tragic past with the Demon Lord Leon, and the heavy burdens she carried.
"...Wait, so you were summoned here while Tokyo was literally being firebombed in the past?" Rimuru asked, his slime body drooping in dumbfounded horror.
"Yes," Shizu nodded sadly.
She explained that she had appeared in this world right in the middle of the devastating Bombing of Tokyo during World War II. It was a cruel, sickening irony, she thought. The power forced upon her by the Demon Lord—the Spirit of Fire—was the exact same element that had incinerated her mother, her home, and her original life.
The Conqueror of Flames. That was the terrifying moniker the people of this world had given her.
"You are incredibly famous," Suzuki spoke up, his tone even. "I heard your name constantly while I was setting up my businesses in the Blumund Kingdom."
"Ah? You arrived directly in the Blumund Kingdom?" Shizu asked curiously, tilting her head.
"No. I arrived butt-naked in the dead center of the Jura Forest, instantly surrounded by high-level monsters trying to eat me."
"..."
Shizu and Rimuru stared at him in absolute silence.
"That being said," Suzuki shrugged casually, "I still had it better than Rimuru. Waking up as a slime in a cave sounds like a massive headache."
"...You're right," Rimuru muttered, a little depressed.
"...Hey, don't look at me with that pitying aura!" Rimuru suddenly shouted, jiggling defensively. "Being a slime isn't actually that bad, okay?!"
And honestly? Rimuru kind of meant it. Being a genderless slime meant he was completely free from the exhausting societal pressures of being a human adult. No one was going to force him to get a corporate job, get married, or pay a mortgage. Yes, being a slime had its perks.
"Then, how exactly did you die and come to this world, Rimuru?" Suzuki asked, genuinely curious to hear it firsthand.
"Oh. I was just stabbed to death by a random guy on the street while trying to save my junior from getting knifed."
...Stabbed?!
Behind her mask, Shizu's eyes widened in horror. She looked at the squishy blue slime with profound pity.
Because the three of them shared the bizarre, tragic bond of being Japanese Otherworlders, Rimuru felt incredibly comfortable venting his deepest, most pressing frustrations.
"Is there a way for me to turn back into a human?!" Rimuru suddenly cried out, bouncing agitatedly. "Or, at the very least, is there a way for me to actually taste food again?!"
If there was one singular, agonizing downside to being a slime, it was the absolute lack of taste buds! He might have died a thirty-seven-year-old virgin, but he loved good food! Living in a fantasy world without being able to taste a perfectly grilled steak was pure torture!
"There are actually several ways to fix that," Suzuki said smoothly, sipping from a wooden cup.
"Really?!" Rimuru practically launched himself into the air.
"Yeah." Suzuki nodded. "If you use your Predator skill to devour a human's body, your mimicry should allow you to perfectly replicate their sensory organs. Including taste buds."
"....."
Rimuru and Shizu froze completely, staring at Suzuki in horror.
"I'm not saying you should murder someone and eat them alive," Suzuki quickly clarified, rolling his eyes. "It could just be a fresh corpse. Or, even better, a manufactured homunculus clone."
"A clone?" Rimuru asked, his nonexistent eyebrows furrowing.
"What's so strange about that? This is a fantasy world governed by magicules, unique skills, and soul manipulation. What is so strange about artificially cloning a biological vessel?"
In reality, Suzuki tried to rewrite the plot since he didn't want Rimuru to devour Shizu.
While devouring Shizu's dying body gave Rimuru his iconic human form in the original story, it also caused massive, cascading geopolitical problems. When a monster suddenly takes the exact physical appearance of a legendary, beloved human hero, human nations don't exactly react with open arms. They assume the monster murdered the hero. It sparked a massive wave of distrust and conflict that Suzuki wanted to avoid entirely.
"Or, if cloning is too complex for you right now," Suzuki continued logically, "why don't you just mimic the monsters you've already eaten? Those direwolves and giant bats must have had taste buds and sensory organs, right? Even if their external appearance is different, their internal biology is similar enough. Just replicate the specific organs inside your slime body."
"....."
Rimuru went completely still.
Hm....
Rimuru fell into deep thought. He had devoured dozens of unique monsters in Veldora's cave. Why had he only ever focused on stealing their offensive combat skills like Water Blade or Poison Breath? Why hadn't he ever thought to just replicate their basic biological senses?
Great Sage! Rimuru screamed internally. Can I actually create a localized clone of taste buds, eyes, and hearing receptors using the monster DNA I've already consumed?!
[Affirmative. It is entirely possible.]
"....."
"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT SOONER?!" Rimuru shrieked out loud.
[Because you never asked.]
"..." Rimuru slumped into a depressed puddle of blue goo.
Just like a highly advanced AI, if Rimuru didn't input the specific prompt, the Great Sage wouldn't offer the optimal result. Listening to the exchange, Suzuki couldn't help but smirk. His Manager and Rimuru's Great Sage were incredibly similar in their cold, calculating logic.
"Still..." Rimuru muttered, slowly inflating back to his normal size.
"Still what?" Suzuki asked.
"How exactly did you come to this world, Suzuki?"
Suzuki looked at the slime strangely.
"Hey, it wouldn't be fair if you just sat there and listened to our tragic backstories without sharing yours!" Rimuru protested.
It was true. Both Shizu and Rimuru had suffered horrible, violent deaths—one by firebombing, the other by a street stabbing. What was Suzuki's story?
Given that Suzuki had spawned butt-naked in the middle of the Jura Forest, effortlessly slaughtered his way out, and then casually seduced a high-tier Dryad into granting him an evolution... Rimuru secretly suspected Suzuki was some sort of hardcore Yakuza hitman who had died in a blaze of glory. Or maybe he had been stabbed by three different yandere girlfriends at the same time.
"My story is completely boring," Suzuki sighed, leaning back against the wooden bench. "I was just living a normal life. I was walking home from the library after finishing a massive research paper for my thesis."
"Ah, you were a university student?" Shizu asked, her tone softening even more.
"Yes."
"Which university?"
"The University of Tokyo."
"....." Rimuru went completely silent, his invisible jaw dropping.
"The University of Tokyo?" Shizu repeated, tilting her head.
"In your era, it was called Tokyo Imperial University," Suzuki clarified gently.
"....." Shizu gasped softly. That was the absolute pinnacle of academia in Japan.
"So... let me get this straight," Rimuru said slowly. "You didn't get stabbed. You didn't get hit by a truck. You literally just overworked yourself to death from sheer academic pressure?"
"Probably?" Suzuki shrugged. "I hadn't slept in three straight days because I was simultaneously working three part-time jobs and trying to finish my final thesis."
"...Were your parents okay with you destroying your health like that?" Shizu asked, her voice trembling slightly with suppressed emotion.
"I'm an orphan," Suzuki stated simply, without an ounce of self-pity. "I had to pay my own tuition."
"...."
Rimuru went entirely still. In that exact moment, every single thing about Suzuki finally clicked into place. The brutal pragmatism. The absolute obsession with building a massive financial empire. The cold, calculating way he manipulated nobles. He wasn't a sociopath; he was just a desperately poor orphan who had literally worked himself to death, only to wake up in a forest surrounded by monsters.
Rimuru felt a massive wave of guilt wash over him. He started forming tear ducts just so he could cry.
"I AM SO SORRY I CALLED YOU A PERVERT—"
Yet, Rimuru was cut off. Shizu was significantly faster.
Before Suzuki could even react, the petite woman closed the distance between them. She dropped to her knees in front of him and pulled him into a tight, incredibly fierce, maternal hug.
"It's fine," Shizu whispered, her voice cracking slightly as she stroked the back of his hair. "You don't have to work yourself to death anymore. You are safe now. I am here."
"...."
Suzuki froze completely. The sudden, overwhelming softness and incredible warmth of Shizu's embrace pressed flush against his face. His mind completely short-circuited. For the first time since arriving in this brutal world, his head went totally silent.
Slowly, hesitantly, Suzuki lowered his arms and returned the embrace, holding onto her tightly.
"Let's just rest for today, okay?" she whispered softly into the quiet forest air.
---
Ahem!
While I want to, I might not be able to upload tomorrow or this week, but let's see how it goes. I have something to do this week, but don't worry, I will return next week (Sunday night), or in just two days.
Let's see how it goes, but in the worst case, I might take a break till Sunday.
I know that it is sudden, but please forgive me and thank you!