— — — — — —
And so, the era of Honkai finally came to an end. Humanity, picking itself back up from the ruins, began to build new homes. Under the joint leadership of Schicksal, Anti-Entropy, and World Serpent, a brand-new United Nations was formed.
In short, the tragic storyline of the Honkai world had been completely rewritten. But the antics of the Dimensional Guild? Oh, those were far from over.
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"Hehehehehe…" A creepy laugh rippled through the grass. Rimuru crouched low in the bushes, shattering the peaceful silence of the arena.
"As long as I play it safe, the champion's trophy is mine!" Rimuru declared in his heart, fired up.
Right now, the Dimensional Guild was hosting a very special event: the Great Chicken Dinner Battle Royale.
Sponsored exclusively by the Tempest Kingdom, with additional sponsorship from the Navy, Hogwarts, Schicksal, Anti-Entropy, and World Serpent—well, all kinds of organizations that may or may not make sense.
Don't sweat the details. The point was, any guild member could join as long as they paid the entry fee.
To keep things fair, all participants had their base stats reduced to the same level, and they were only allowed to bring five skills into the match.
You can pick one of your skills to upgrade, using empty slots. And if the skill's really powerful, it'll count as all five from the start.
The top three winners would split a prize pool of 100,000 crystals, plus each would get a spin on the Guild's special Gacha wheel.
What are you waiting for? This was the kind of one-night-rich opportunity people dreamed of!
Rimuru glanced at his chosen skill:
[Devourer: Gain 1 stat point for defeating a small monster, 10 for defeating a mid, and 20 for defeating a special creature.]
"Hahaha!" Rimuru squealed like a pig.
"As long as I survive the early game, by the late game I'll be unstoppable! 100,000 crystals… even I can't help but get excited."
Hiding in the grass, Rimuru rubbed his cheeks in glee, then grinned wickedly at his unsuspecting target—Marco.
"Why do I suddenly feel a chill down my spine? Did someone find out I bought those… er, milf doujins? No, impossible. Nobody knows about that. I'm just overthinking it." Outwardly, Marco looked like the picture of calm. Inwardly, he'd already betrayed himself.
He wiped away nonexistent sweat and focused on grinding down some monsters.
"Man, I'm wiped…" Marco shook out his sore arms. "Who the hell designed these mobs? So tanky, and they hit so damn hard."
He glanced at his dwindling HP bar and sighed.
"Better heal up first. Honestly, this is exhausting."
Pulling out a red potion, Marco began chugging it down slowly.
"Yo, Marco~" Rimuru suddenly stepped out of the bushes with a bright smile.
"Oh, Rimuru!" Marco smiled back automatically, not realizing at first. Then his grin stiffened, inch by inch.
"You said you were tired, right? Want me to let you take a nice long rest?" Rimuru asked with mock concern, drawing a gleaming longsword.
"Uh… actually, I don't feel that tired anymore." Marco swallowed hard, his survival instincts screaming. "Oh, wait! I just remembered I left some laundry out. Gotta go!"
He abandoned his potion mid-drink and bolted, but before his legs could even cross the line, Rimuru's blade was already at his throat.
"Rimuru!" Marco cried, trying to tug on his opponent's heartstrings.
"Marco! This is where your journey ends!" Rimuru declared, raising the sword.
"Chotto matte!" Marco screamed.
"Die, and become my strength!" Rimuru roared.
"Stop!!!"
The blade fell clean and swift. Without fanfare, Marco's chicken dinner dreams ended before they even began.
"Sorry, but I'm a heartless killer," Rimuru said coldly, sheathing his sword as Marco's HP dropped to zero and his body crumpled.
"Yes! The path to my chicken dinner is clear!" Rimuru cheered, dancing happily. He opened his stat screen, ready to assign his new points—
"…Wait. Where the hell are my points?" He stared blankly. Not a single increase.
"Don't tell me my skill has some hidden condition?" Rimuru muttered.
And then—flames erupted from Marco's body. The Phoenix's rebirth. His HP bar shot back up to half.
"What the…?" Rimuru froze as Marco climbed to his feet.
"See ya!" Marco shouted, taking off at full speed. His long legs moved like twin diesel engines, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving Rimuru standing alone, dumbstruck in the wind.
"Wait… his passive… it's resurrection, isn't it? Of course! He's the damn Phoenix!" Rimuru groaned, smacking his forehead. If only he'd been more careful, that duck wouldn't have flown away right from his hands.
"No matter, no matter. Even if I just farm mobs, I'll still snowball into godhood." Forcing himself to calm down, Rimuru turned toward the monsters nearby, eyes full of killing intent. "Since you witnessed my embarrassment, don't expect mercy. I'm a cold-blooded killer."
"Huff… huff… I should be safe now." Marco had sprinted dozens of kilometers, his chest heaving as he glanced nervously over his shoulder. If Rimuru hadn't forgotten about his passive, Marco doubted he'd have made it out alive—even with resurrection.
"Forget it. Better top off my HP." Marco pulled out more potions to heal up.
"Yo, Marco!"
A sweet voice called from the bushes. Out stepped Kiana and Mei, smiling warmly.
Marco's face turned green. Out of the tiger's den, straight into the wolves' jaws. What kind of cosmic joke was this?
"Bye-bye~" Kiana waved kindly, like she was sending off a dear friend. After all, when someone delivers themselves straight to you, it's only polite to treat them gently.
"Ha… I've got two words, but I don't know if I should say them." Marco sighed, lighting a cigarette as he accepted his fate.
"First blood!!!"
And that was how Marco handed over first kill to Kiana and Mei. A tragic yet somehow poetic tale, worthy of tears… and laughter.
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