"I swear, you must be my fated nemesis! What if I get dumber just by hanging around you, huh? What then?! Answer me, you jerk!"
Rosh grumbled as she gnawed on a drumstick, one hand still rubbing the bump on her head, eyes narrowed at Ryuji.
Thanks to Ryuji's dragonfire healing, the swelling had gone down quickly. But that didn't stop her from chasing him around half the inn earlier in righteous vengeance—because pain was pain, even if it didn't last long.
Still… as long as she was well-fed, Rosh wasn't one to hold a grudge.
"Uh… well, to make it up to you, how about this—you get to decide what we eat for the next month."
Ryuji scratched his cheek, clearly sheepish. It was, after all, his own smug show-off moment that had led to Rosh cracking her head on a ceiling beam.
"That's more like it!"
With a triumphant thunk, Rosh slapped the table. But just as she was about to resume devouring her chicken, Sizki spoke up.
"There's a problem. We're supposed to go to Lorien Forest for our training, aren't we? We'll be camping out most of the time. That means most of our meals are going to be campfire food."
Rosh froze mid-bite. Slowly, her expression darkened.
"…In that case," Ryuji cut in smoothly, "why don't you guys just spar with me for now? We can rent a training ground in Hendon Myre. Honestly, with your current strength, you probably wouldn't beat me anyway, and I need to brush up on some of my own techniques."
He'd recently obtained sword-soul and asura-style training methods, as well as awakening theory from Aganzo. Ryuji had no intention of testing those out recklessly in the wild. In a training hall, the worst that would happen was some bruises. Out in the forest? One mistake meant death.
They had time. They had money. And they had direction. No need to rush.
"But… how are we paying for the training facilities?" Sizki started to ask—only to fall silent when Ryuji reached into his pocket and pulled out a solid gold bar, laying it casually on the table.
She closed her mouth without another word.
Unlike in the game world, where prices were inflated into the billions, this world treated a few thousand gold coins as a once-in-a-lifetime fortune for common folk. With ten-thousand coins, you could buy legendary gear—maybe even an artifact.
Most of those so-called "epic" weapons were now ancient relics.
That one gold bar in Ryuji's hand? Sizki would have to work three full years to earn the same—assuming she never got hurt, never replaced her gear, and never spent a coin on food or supplies.
"You…" Sizki bit her lip. She'd always lived independently, never relying on others.
"Why are you even trying to argue with me about this?" Ryuji wagged a finger playfully. "Besides, I need sparring partners too. Just take it. I wouldn't know where to buy proper training gear here anyway."
Before she could argue further, he simply stuffed the gold bar into her hands.
He had taken quite a stash from the Demon Slayer world—an entire backpack full of gold bars. If not for the special reinforcement on the bag, he wouldn't even have been able to carry it. But for him, hauling that kind of load was nothing.
"…I don't even know what to say to you anymore."
Sizki sighed, already knowing he wouldn't take it back. But just holding the bar made her face burn. She couldn't shake the feeling that accepting it meant she was… already his, in some unspoken way.
Then again…
She caught sight of Ryuji's infuriatingly smug grin, and that teasing red tongue of his—and quickly turned her head to the side, cheeks flushing even hotter.
Honestly… what difference does it make now? I'm already his. Ugh… am I really that shameless?
Just remembering the rough, warm strokes of his tongue along her pussy made her whole body shiver.
"Alright, fine. You never listen to me anyway. We can use Master Pungjin's training hall. The fees are cheap, and even if we break the dummies or stone posts, we won't be charged. They're all handmade by his disciples. We can also buy some personal training tools if we need to."
Ryuji nodded in approval. Beside him, Rosh awkwardly patted her coin purse. Her expression was stiff.
All her money came from Ryuji. It was more than enough for food—but training gear? That was another story.
And unlike Sizki… she didn't have the face to accept Ryuji's money so casually. She knew why Sizki didn't mind—they were basically a couple now.
Rosh? Not even close.
"…Alright. We'll go after we finish buying the house."
Ryuji finished the last sip of soup from his bowl and stood.
After their meal, the group followed him to the house he'd been considering. They met with the current owner, explained their intention to buy, and were soon escorted to the city hall to begin the official process.
To Ryuji's surprise, buying property here was cheap. The prices were standardized and regulated by the government—private owners weren't allowed to arbitrarily raise or lower them. That wasn't just a cultural norm—it was an official decree from the reigning queen, Skadi herself.
The policy was meant to prevent coercion or price gouging, protecting the rights of commoners.
The process was a little slow, involving professional evaluation of the property's worth, so they ended up waiting quite a while.
Still, after seeing how many orphans and drifters roamed the streets of Hendon Myre, Ryuji understood why things were handled so cautiously.
But when he thought about the rough streets of Hendon Myre—where you couldn't walk two blocks without seeing homeless children or gangsters—he found himself understanding the logic behind the strict procedures.
Even so, the house still cost him thirteen gold bars.
On the bright side, he learned something useful: the Bel Myre Principality government could exchange gold bars for currency at fair market rates, with only a small handling fee.
"Quite the business sense this queen has."
Stepping out of the city hall, Ryuji couldn't help but mutter his thoughts aloud.
"Of course," their broker replied with a sigh. "Bel Myre has always been the City of Commerce. Her Majesty Skardi comes from a merchant family herself. And this is Bel Myre's city hall—you'll often find the queen personally handling affairs here."
The man glanced at Ryuji, then at Seria at his side, his eyes brimming with envy. At first he had assumed Ryuji was buying a house for himself. To find it was instead for the girl next to him made him sigh with admiration.
"It's a pity," the man murmured. "Bel Myre is a city where only the successful can stay. There's no place for failures. If not for… ah, never mind. Young man, our deal is done. I'll leave the furniture in the house to you as a gift."
With that, the man climbed into his carriage and departed. His back was solitary, weighed down with unspoken regrets.
"That uncle looked reluctant to let go," Rosch remarked, her big eyes following the retreating figure.
"Well, in business there are gains and losses," Ryuji replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Still, I didn't expect Queen Skardi to be so shrewd."
Her policies were clear enough. By fixing house prices at a standard rate and forbidding private manipulation, she not only made Bel Myre more accessible to foreign merchants but also cut down the chance of thugs and gangs pressuring sellers. It reduced chaos, made the city safer for trade. There were drawbacks too, of course, but in a merchant capital like this, the benefits outweighed them.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rosh tilted her head, eyes wide, innocent and clueless.
Ryuji couldn't resist. He reached over and ruffled her hair, pity and affection in equal measure.
"Don't worry your little head about it."
"Argh! I'll bite you to death!" Rosh flared up, and before he could react, she clamped her teeth onto his arm.
"Ow—are you a dog?!" Ryuji shouted, shaking his arm desperately, but Rosh refused to let go.
Their quarrel shattered the solemn air of the city hall, drawing curious stares from passersby. Up on the balcony of the second floor, a woman in regal attire leaned forward, her eyes narrowing.
"…That boy."
Queen Skardi herself, draped in the finery of her station, watched with interest. Her husband had died young, leaving her both throne and burden. Since then her life had been nothing but politics, negotiations, and the endless work of rule. No time for softness, no space for love.
Seeing Ryuji roughhousing with Rosh, and catching the affectionate way Seria looked at him, Skardi felt a pang in her chest—a wistful envy she quickly smothered.
"Your Majesty, shall I drive them away?" asked the swordswoman at her side, seeing the ruckus below.
"Your Majesty, shall I drive them away?"
The swordswoman at Queen Skardi's side spoke up. Her eyes lingered on Ryuji, who had just pried Rosh off his arm. Now he was pinching her cheeks in playful retaliation while Rosh kicked furiously at his shins. The knight couldn't help but ask the question.
"It's nothing—just two youngsters fooling around." Skardi replied softly.
Watching Ryuji and Rosh bicker noisily, Queen Skardi didn't take it to heart. Her gaze lingered instead on Ryuji's strong, well-built frame, and on Seria—whose slightly flushed face. A faint sigh escaped Skardi's lips.
Her husband had died young, leaving her no children. Since taking the throne, her days had been consumed by the endless burden of stabilizing the realm and negotiating with rival factions.
Though she did not regret her marriage, deep down, she still longed for the warmth of love.
So when she looked at Ryuji and Seria, clearly bound by something more than mere friendship, a pang of envy stirred in her chest.
But she was the queen. From the day she ascended the throne, she knew there would never be room to relax, let alone indulge in personal desires.
"What of the Empire?" she asked at last, turning to her knight. "Have they stirred up trouble again?"
"No… not quite trouble," the swordswoman replied, realizing that the queen's focus had shifted. "But at the Bel Myre defence line, there are whispers of strange movements—talk of 'otherworldly forces,' or something along those lines…"
Ryuji, of course, had no idea that Queen Skardi's gaze had briefly rested on him. After calming the still-pouting Rosh, he quickly busied himself with preparations—heading off to purchase equipment and artifacts to aid his training.
After all, whether it was the world of Demon Slayer, One Piece, or even Food Wars, none of them offered him the kind of training equipment he truly needed.
Sure, Demon Slayer had a few tools, but for someone of his current strength, they were beneath him. Even the Sun Breathing techniques of Yoriichi Tsugikuni—something others revered as the pinnacle of swordsmanship—were skills Ryuji could easily master.
It wasn't that the world lacked power entirely. That girl, Nezuko, had been one of the strongest beings he had ever encountered. But the limits of human strength in Demon Slayer were simply too narrow for him.
Arad, however, was different. Here, he was at least a newly "awakened one," with countless stronger fighters still waiting far ahead. The martial spirit of this world was alive and overflowing—new training paths appeared constantly, and the equipment to enhance them was endless.
Case in point: the heavy gravity armbands currently strapped to his arms. In other worlds, they would've been priceless treasures. But here? Even someone like Sizki—who was so poor she refused to buy herself a new training uniform—could afford them.
Soon, they arrived at a training supply shop. Nothing there suited Rosh, which made the girl sigh with relief. Sizki, however, was already speaking with the shopkeeper while Ryuji was still examining some gear designed to build core strength.
"Do you have any older, used gravity armbands?" Sizki asked, fingers brushing against her coin pouch.
She refused to buy equipment for herself with Ryuji's money. To her, even the commissions he paid her for their work together felt undeserved—she only accepted them because Ryuji had taken her original armbands. The gold bars he gave her afterward? She would never use those for personal things. If it was something the whole group could share, then fine. But for herself? Absolutely not.
"Well, yes," the shopkeeper replied. "But the maximum weight they can handle is only about—"
Ryuji immediately turned his head. He saw Sizki carefully selecting from the pile of old, stained, slightly damaged armbands, her ragged training clothes with frayed hems making her look even more stubborn. He shook his head.
She was admirable in many ways—but too damn proud for her own good.
And yet… perhaps it was exactly that pride that made her so irresistibly appealing in his eyes.
He didn't try to stop her. He had other ways of making up for it.
But just then, he noticed Rosh staring at something with wide, sparkling eyes. Curious, he followed her gaze.
An energy disruption device.
It was a piece of training equipment designed to simulate chaotic magical environments by deliberately interfering with the user's energy flow. Once the body's internal energy reached critical instability, the device would instantly shut down, keeping the user safe. It was used to train mages—or anyone else—to build resistance to interference. Some models even came with built-in gravity controls, perfect for spellcasters interested in strengthening their bodies through martial techniques.
This was exactly why Ryuji came to Arad. In other worlds, "battle mages" were unheard of. Here, even though they weren't the most popular, practical-minded mages still welcomed the chance to learn some hand-to-hand skills. After all, once magic reinforced the body, a mage wasn't so fragile anymore.
Without hesitation, Ryuji walked over. Rosh sensed him behind her, but before she could react, he pushed her head down with one hand and casually picked up not one, but three sets of the equipment.
Yes, three.
Even Sizki—though she wasn't aiming to be a martial artist—relied on "psychic force" to reinforce her body. Pure physical strength alone wasn't enough to shatter steel.
Rosh gawked at him. She understood instantly, panic flashing in her eyes. He had been watching her for a while, and his mischievous grin made her blush as she tried to protest.
"Ryuji, don't buy that for me—"
He pressed her head down harder, cutting her off.
"You're going to learn magic properly," he said firmly. "Otherwise, I'll dock your pay to cover the cost."
Before Rosh could even squeak another protest, Ryuji slammed the three sets of equipment onto the counter and tossed a heavy pouch of gold coins at the shopkeeper.
"Bill, please!"
The deal was sealed before Rosh could fight back. Every time she opened her mouth, Ryuji simply clamped his hand over her cheeks, forcing her lips into a pout and silencing her completely.
Only once the shopkeeper swept up the gold did Ryuji release her. He stuffed the equipment into her arms.
"Ryuji! I said no—!"
She barely got the words out before he grabbed her by the scruff of her collar and flung her straight out the shop door, sending her sprawling onto the street.
"RYUJI!!!"
Fuming, Rosh scrambled up and stormed back toward the shop, only to be intercepted mid-charge by Seria, who wrapped her arms around the girl's waist in a desperate attempt to hold her back. From the doorway, Ryuji only saw Rosh flailing and snapping her teeth in helpless fury.
"Kids," Ryuji muttered, scratching his ear. "Always a handful."
When he turned, Sizki was staring at him, dumbfounded.
"You're really not going to buy yourself a new training uniform?" he asked.
Sizki froze, then shook her head.
"This one isn't worn out yet."
She truly had no intention of spending his money. If not for his quick hands—and the shopkeeper Norton's even quicker ones—she would've stopped him from buying her anything too.
But now that it was done, she had no choice but to accept.
"Not worn out, huh…" Ryuji murmured with a faint, unreadable smile.
Ryuji rubbed his chin as he looked at Sizki, a smile slowly curving across his lips.
Sizki wasn't like Rosh. With Rosh, he could treat things lightly, the way one humored a child. But Sizki—she was a grown woman with her own will. That meant…
That meant if he created a fait accompli, she wouldn't fight against it. She would accept it.
"Well then, that's settled. We still need to buy some daily necessities. If we've got time afterward, let's head to the training grounds and test out this new equipment."
After picking up a few more items, Ryuji and Sizki paid at the counter and left together. They stopped by for more essentials before finally returning to the house they had bought.
Since the purchase had included furniture, the only addition they'd made was a new beds—no need for more.
The house itself was three full stories, each floor with a suite of no less than eighty square meters, and ten rooms per floor. Ryuji couldn't help but marvel. So this is the magic world. Spacious, cheap, and convenient.
There were also several large halls suitable for meetings, and the natural lighting was excellent. Aside from lacking a courtyard, it was, in Ryuji's mind, close to a perfect home.
Meanwhile, Seria threw herself happily into her own routines. The self-proclaimed country girl was delighted to tidy up Ryuji's room, humming to herself as she cleaned the kitchen and went out shopping for groceries.
For Seria, Ryuji's talents didn't matter nearly as much as the fact that they could share simple, joyful days together. And if along the way they could help others in need, that was all the better.
Humming softly, she disappeared into the marketplace, while Sizki—having settled her belongings into her own room—turned toward Ryuji, still dressed in her fighter's attire.
"Should we head to the training grounds now? If we go, we can get in a session before dinner. By the time we're finished, Seria will probably have the meal ready. Plus, we'll have the chance to test out the new training gear. If there's anything wrong with it, we can get Norton to exchange it."
Though Sizki felt a little nervous—Ryuji buying equipment for her left her uneasy—she knew there was no point in hesitation. Since it was already bought, the only choice was to use it and see if it worked properly.
"Mm…"
Ryuji watched her carefully as she wrapped bandages around her wrists. Then, after glancing toward Rosh still busy in her room, he quickly closed the distance between himself and Sizki.
"Y-you… what are you doing?"
Sizki instinctively retreated a step as Ryuji approached, but he was already upon her—pressing her gently against the wall, his body aligned with hers.
"What does it look like?" He gripped her shoulders, preventing any escape, and leaned in until their eyes met. She turned her head away, cheeks flushing.
"We… we can't go that far yet!"
She pushed against his chest, her resolve wavering. Ryuji already had Seria—what was she doing, letting him this close?
"Can't help it. I get jealous," he murmured, one hand sliding down to her thigh, tracing the edge of the tight fabric that barely covered her. "I don't want anyone else seeing you like this."
"Everyone trains in these! And it's—it's not like you can see anything!"
She caught his wrist, but his fingers continued to stroke the sensitive skin of her inner thigh—a touch that felt both ticklish and feverish.
"But I can see," Ryuji said lowly, twisting her arms gently behind her back and pinning her against the wall. Her rounded hips pressed flush against him, and she could already feel the hard heat of his cock through their clothes. "Every time I watch you move in this, it drives me wild."
As if to emphasize his point, he freed himself—letting his cock rest heavily against her bare thigh. Sizki gasped at the sudden warmth.
"Ryuji , we really shouldn't—"
"I know," he cut her off, voice husky. "I'll just rub. I won't go in. But you can't blame me—you're the one dressed like this."
With a deft tug, he shifted the tight fabric of her training shorts, creating just enough space to slide his hardened cock against her.
Sizki's body went rigid, her breath catching. Between her legs, she could feel herself already growing slick with nervous anticipation. She knew better than to trust a man's promise at a moment like this—everyone knew that saying was a lie.
But Ryuji was too absorbed in the sensation to notice her tension.
The inner lining of her shorts was made of a smooth, high-quality fabric—soft and slippery against his skin. The friction felt surprisingly similar to the touch of rougher skin, allowing him to fully appreciate the delicate shape of her pussy, the way her pussy fluttered with each nervous tremor, and the hardened clit that begged for attention.
He moved against her in a steady rhythm, the fabric of her shorts straining with each thrust. Every time he grazed her most sensitive spot, the material stretched taut, highlighting the shape of her arousal beneath.
Sizki bit her lip, trying to suppress the waves of pleasure building within her. Though feeling of his cock rubbing against her pussy lacked the precision of his tongue, the sheer heat and pressure of his cock sent jolts of electricity straight to her core.
With every pass, every accidental brush against her entrance, she felt a weakening numbness spread through her limbs—a silent plea for him to push further.
Soon, her breathing grew ragged, matching the increasing pace of his movements. Several times, the tip of his cock even entered her pussy pressed insistently against her virgin barrier, making her gasp—but each time, he pulled back, teasing her relentlessly.
It was during one particularly forceful grind against her swollen clit that she finally broke—a broken cry escaping her lips as her legs gave out, sending her crumpling to the floor.
As she lay there panting, she noticed with dawning embarrassment that the moisture-wicking fabric of her shorts had long since failed—a steady drip of her own arousal had formed a small puddle beneath her.
Yet Ryuji remained unyielding.
He stood over her, his cock still glistening with her wetness, and guided himself toward her lips. Without a word, she closed her eyes and parted her mouth, accepting him.
Gluck!* Gluck!!* Slurp!*
Ryuji's hands gently cradled her head as he moved within her mouth, each thrust deeper than the last until he finally withdrew with a low groan, releasing thick, white streaks across her neck and training top.
Sizki looked down at the mess staining her cherished outfit—a gift from her master—and sighed in resignation.
"Fine… I won't argue if you buy me a new one," she murmured, her voice weary.
This uniform held sentimental value; it was rare even in her homeland, and only in a place like Hedon myre could it be replaced affordably. Now, thanks to Ryuji, she'd never be able to wear the shorts without blushing—and if the top was ruined too, every memory of her master would be overwritten by the image of Ryuji's…cock!
"Now that's more like it," Ryuji said, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.
But because of this delay, Ryuji and Sizki never made it to Pungjin's training grounds. Instead, they cooked dinner together with Seria and spent a warm, quiet evening.
In the days that followed, they busied themselves with shopping and furnishing the house. Ryuji also went with Rosh and Sizki to Pungjin's dojo, but unfortunately, the master wasn't there. They had to settle for renting a training hall, where they began their own practice.
Unfortunately, the training grounds weren't divided, so even when Sizki switched into a proper martial arts uniform and strapped on new gravity armbands, Ryuji never once managed to gain the upper hand against her in sparring.
At the same time, he had to cut back on his unrestrained "romantic exercises" with Seria—she drained him far too much. Training seriously was difficult when he let himself indulge too often.
Life quickly settled into a rhythm. Just like that, half a month passed before Ryuji could even grasp a rough understanding of the techniques and notes G.S.D and Aganzo had given him.
Every morning, he would spar hand-to-hand with Sizki for three hours. In reality, he was guiding her training, but her astounding talent quickly forced him to empty out everything he had to teach. His own foundation in the basics gave him a sharper understanding of fists and footwork than before.
In the afternoons, Sizki and Rosh would train together, trying to maintain control while under the interference of the energy disruptor. Meanwhile, Ryuji practiced the sword techniques written in Aganzo's notes and on the training scrolls, testing out their forms.
But the "Wave Force," that mysterious, abstract energy—he simply couldn't comprehend it. Not even a hint of insight came to him. Still, he had memorized most of the sword forms. Both sets of notes were detailed when it came to how energy should circulate through the body during each technique.
As G.S.D had said, many of the techniques had to be modified for his own situation. A lot of them assumed the wielder had the overwhelming strength of a "ghost arm."
"No helping it. Even without the Ghost Arm, a Sword Soul still has to use what works. There's no sense in sealing away my own power—that'd just be stupid."
Looking down at what was basically a Sword Soul's skill list written on the scroll, Ryuji couldn't help but shake his head.
Ghost Swordsmanship… honestly, it was only suited for people whose arms had vastly different levels of strength. Like, say…
…well, certain special cases.
Still, while most of the techniques came to him smoothly, his Awakening Skills remained stuck at the beginner's stage. Just like his failure with the Blood-Burning Secret Art, the issue was his willpower. He simply didn't have enough of it to rouse the sword's spirit, to resonate with it.
Unless… he was forced into a battle where he had to stake everything.
That left him feeling helpless. Because of him, Sizki had been pushing herself relentlessly, growing at a remarkable pace. Rosh, too, had become faster and more stable in spellcasting thanks to the disruptor, and she was even trying to learn new magic. Both of them had clear paths of growth, advancing daily in the training grounds.
But Ryuji didn't.
He could perform the sword techniques, sure. After all, Sword Soul skills boiled down to slashes—fast slashes, sharper slashes, slashes with sword qi, jumping slashes, and more damn slashes. Straightforward and brutal. Once you learned to channel energy into your strikes to turn them into razor-sharp waves, and once you grasped how qi should circulate during transitions, the rest came down to real combat.
Actual combat that sees blood.
Because these techniques were all meant to kill, there was no way to practice them fully at the training grounds.
"Honestly, everyone except me can improve at the training grounds…"
After finishing a full day of training—and sneaking in a rather intimate 69-session with Sizki in the bath while Seria was cooking—Ryuji let out a helpless sigh.
This was exactly why he had bought the two of them new training equipment, while also covering their food and lodging.
With nothing else to worry about, the two could dedicate themselves entirely to growth. No wasted time, no distractions—just thinking about how to become stronger every single day.
Both of them were naturally talented, and with no worries about food or shelter, and with Ryuji's guidance, their growth was incredibly fast.
Even when Ryuji wasn't around, they'd already been taking on monsters out of boredom, steadily accumulating experience.
Without Ryuji, they would be busy with weapon maintenance, buying supplies, securing food and lodging. There'd be no time for focused training, and an injury could even leave them struggling to recover—another reason why so many adventurers trained while fighting monsters. True power came from extraordinary talent, and very few had the privilege to train full-time.
Ryuji, however, knew that he was still improving as well. He simply wasn't advancing as fast as Sizki or Rosh.
"Ugh…"
Looking at his own energy points—already at three million points—he couldn't help but sigh.
"… I'm feeling bored!"
With Sizki and Rosh in their rapid growth phase, Ryuji couldn't justify going out on adventures. He couldn't visit Beiana or Keraha either, leaving him restless and unchallenged.
As for going all the way with Sizki? His instincts told him that wouldn't be good—it would push her away. He needed her to willingly accept the fact that Ryuji was building a harem.
Rosh… her affection level wasn't high enough yet anyway.
"No new girls, only the path ahead… that's boring! And these energy points mean nothing with Seria around. I wish I could travel worlds without spending any energy."
Ryuji hugged his arms and sighed while staring at his system interface.
He knew what he lacked was a truly exhilarating battle—a fight that would push him beyond his current limits. But he didn't want one right now.
Though he continued to grow stronger, he had no determination—or desire—to risk everything for a breakthrough.
He had just survived a situation that could have killed him in a single mistake. He simply didn't feel the urge to fight to the death again.
Especially after facing the "World Will: Nezuko," he felt his previous efforts were laughably small. For now, there was no way he could feel that fiery excitement again.
He had personally experienced a force so vast and grand that no shock or impact from other worlds could compare.
"If not… maybe I could go to the King of Fighters world, and fight Mai and the other martial artists there? Maybe their battles would make me truly fired up again?"
Ryuji glanced at his system. The thought briefly crossed his mind.
But analyzing himself carefully, he realized his current mindset wouldn't allow it.
"Probably not…"
He wanted to grow stronger but didn't want to fight. He wanted new girls but was satisfied with Seria. With Seria, everything else felt trivial.
"Hah… I'm just slacking off."
Ryuji ran his hands through his hair. He was stuck in that in-between state—not fully calm, not fully restless.
If he were either completely settled or completely driven, it would be fine. But this half-baked state frustrated him.
"If my system had a mandatory quest, I wouldn't be like this. But hoping for a forced quest… is that kind of pathetic?"
Ryuji started criticizing himself again.
He knew the real reason for this mood: the pleasure he got from having sex with Seria recently was too high, combined with his impatience over the path ahead. It was frustrating that progress was visible but unattainable in the short term.
It would pass in a few days.
Still, he couldn't help but think about it anyway.
"If there were someone I see and instantly want to annihilate their whole family… or a girl I could just take without worrying about any emotional attachment, someone I could just… have… then maybe I could get back on track?"
Ryuji analyzed the situation, then immediately reached a conclusion.
"That's right! It's the world's fault!"
But the moment he made that proclamation, Ryuji covered his face. Seriously, blaming the world like some over-the-top dramatic teenager—he felt like he was slipping back into full-blown chuunibyou.
What he didn't realize was…
It wasn't just his mindset. His body, honed by intensive training, craved a complete release, a full-scale fight.
A battle between equals.
"So… what should I do?"
Ryuji stared aimlessly at the street.
Kiri's shop was open again today. She'd been away for the past few days, too busy to meet him, and even a brief greeting would be all she managed before leaving.
Today, however, she stood at the entrance, scanning the passersby. Ryuji found himself naturally walking toward her.
"Hey, Kiri. Finally got some free time today?"
He smiled at her, and Kiri, raising an eyebrow, gave him a wry look, unsurprised.
"You just can't stay away, can you?"
Her mood wasn't great. A few days ago, she had gotten word of a Empyrean person but learned they had given up returning to the Empyrean relam. No one knew how to get back.
So she had lost hope. Even if she returned now, her comrades were all dead. Her final attempt had failed. She was at a loss.
"Well, I'm here to upgrade my weapon. Gotta support your business somehow, right?"
Ryuji drew the new massive sword he had purchased from Cinda's blacksmith—the best in Hedon myre. The sword wasn't famous, but it was high quality. Even a strike from a lightsaber wouldn't cut it through, unless wielded by a true master.
The average adventurer could hope to obtain something like this at most.
He had also purchased a few lightsabers, made from magical crystals. As expected, unlike in games, they only blocked energy attacks—they couldn't withstand physical strikes.
Meaning the wielder could only attack, attack, and attack—there was no true defense.
And they needed charging. Colorless small crystals could recharge them…
"Whatever, I already know you too well," Kiri said, rolling her eyes at him before sighing.
"You came at just the right time. I'm in a bad mood and planning to have a drink. Care to buy me a round—and stay out all night?"
Kiri waved at him without a hint of hesitation.
Ryuji noticed her mood wasn't great and grew curious.
"What's wrong?"
She shook her head, unable to explain fully.
"Do you forget why I was in such a hurry to get back?"
It had been over a month. Even if Kartel's people were foolish, that was more than enough time to wipe out her comrades. She had prepared herself mentally while setting up the shop, but only now had she completely given up hope.
Because that Empyrean person had been her final hope of returning to the Empyrean.
"…My condolences."
Ryuji didn't know what to say. Kiri couldn't even see the bodies of her comrades, and from what he knew of the story that followed, she never returned to the Empyrean Realm.
It made sense—her companions had not trusted her, forcing her into duel after duel.
If they had still been alive, maybe there'd be a reason to argue or explain. But by the time adventurers returned to the Empyrean Realm, most of her comrades were already dead. At that point, any explanations or clarifications were meaningless.
Even if she had killed the traitors, her hands would still be stained with the blood of her companions—blood that those who doubted her would never see.
She had no family in the Empyrean Realm. Her master wandered the lands, fate unknown. By the time news reached her, she had already sworn loyalty to the princess. She was unencumbered, with nothing to worry about and nothing to care for.
Growing up in the Lawless Territory, she had never thought of it as a good place—it was nothing compared to Arad.
At least here, no one discriminated against her origin. They didn't care that she knew no poetry or music, hadn't studied, and was rough and unrefined.
Now, Kiri had lost both the desire and motivation to return to her homeland.
"Condolences? Don't make me laugh. We wandering gunslingers can't stand that word."
Kiri snorted, grabbing Ryuji's collar without warning. No hesitation, no shyness—just bold, unapologetic, and direct.
"Tonight, we drink until we're damn satisfied! Then, you're taking me to bed and making me cum! You hear me, boy?! I don't care what your experience is like or how many women you plan to sleep with! But if you even think about abandoning me, I'll blow your head off!"
Ryuji was completely shocked.
"W-what? So sudden?"
He had truly not expected Kiri to say something like that now.
Sure, he had considered drinking with her first and then having sex with her later, but he hadn't anticipated she'd speak or act like this!
"Nonsense! Which gunslinger from the Lawless Territory hasn't robbed a bit of pleasure before? Today, I'm the one doing the robbing!"
Kiri drew her revolver and pressed it to Ryuji's forehead. Then she lifted her leg, resting it on her reinforced gear, revealing her long, shapely thigh. Her denim shorts clung tightly to her hips, accentuating her curves.
"Just tell me if you want to make me unable to get out of bed or not?!"
Seeing Kiri's flushed cheeks, Ryuji's irritation vanished, replaced entirely by excitement.
All his conflicted thoughts and hesitations disappeared, his mind flooded with a powerful, almost musical energy.
"No way I'm letting you get away!"
~~~~~~~~~~
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