The morning sun filtered through the clouds above Elyria's sacred training grounds. Saint Arlena's disciples moved in silence, tending to flowers, practicing sword forms, or offering prayers under golden statues of winged gods.
Among them, one girl stood out.
Rika Hoshino — now clad in a sharp white-and-gold uniform, with a polished ceremonial blade strapped to her back — marched through the courtyard with graceful determination. Her skirt fluttered just slightly, the faint wind lifting its edges.
Behind her, dragging his feet and grinning like a lunatic, came Kazuki Jin.
Still in his cartoon pajama pants, hair unbrushed, and a stick of jerky in his mouth like it was a cigar, Kazuki looked more like a comic relief gremlin than a hero.
His eyes, however, were laser-focused.
Right. On. Her. Skirt.
Rika stopped. Slowly turned her head.
"Don't follow me."
Kazuki tilted his head innocently, "I'm your assigned support, remember? Like, uh, your sacred squire or something."
His eyes lowered again.
That damn skirt.
"Say... before we get into battle and all that... can I just see in—"
CLANG!
Rika's sword unsheathed in a blur.
She didn't slash him — oh no. She turned the blade expertly and slammed the flat of it straight into his face like a baseball bat.
THWACK!!
Kazuki flew backward and tumbled like a sack of onions, dazed.
Rika looked left, then right.
No one in sight.
Her eyes glinted with cold calm.
She grabbed Kazuki by the collar, yanked him to his feet, and dragged him to a shadowy corner near the wall.
Then, with her blade at his throat, she whispered through clenched teeth.
"I know guys like you."
Kazuki blinked, confused but vaguely aroused.
"You think this is all one big harem anime. You think girls are just NPCs with jiggle physics. Let me make something very clear."
He felt cold steel pressing into his pants — dangerously close to territory no fantasy blessing could restore.
His entire body tensed.
Rika leaned in, smile perfectly serene.
"If you ever try to peek under my skirt again, your next reincarnation will be as a garden slug."
THUD!
Next thing he knew, Kazuki was slumped unconscious, eyes spinning like pinwheels.
Rika sighed, dusted her sleeves, and casually adjusted his body to lie limp against her shoulder.
Just in time.
A palace guard approached and saluted her.
"Lady Chosen One! Shall I assist with… Kazuki-chan?"
Rika gave the gentlest smile. "No need. He fell asleep. I'm just moving him somewhere quiet."
The guard nodded with admiration. "So kind… truly, you are worthy of legend."
"Yes," she said through a strained smile. "Kind."
Once the guard was out of sight, she turned a sharp corner and made a beeline for the cathedral's back alley.
There it stood: a massive enchanted trash bin, labeled "Waste of Magic Space".
She lifted the lid, muttered a small prayer, and then dumped Kazuki inside.
THUD!
The lid slammed shut.
She wiped her hands with a cloth and muttered:
"Trash-chan belongs in the trash can."
A guard peeked around the corner. "Lady Chosen One, shall I dispose of that?"
"Yes," she replied sweetly. "Throw it in the deepest magical garbage pit available. Preferably one with silence enchantments."
As the guard carried the bin away, Rika turned on her heel and marched off, blade swinging at her hip.
Her lips curled into a satisfied smile.
"No more skirt-peeking support squire for me."
After 1 hour
within the Sacred Waste Disposal Pit No. 9, the sky was barely visible. The air was thick with magical rot — a horrifying mix of burned parchment, soggy enchanted scrolls, rotting mana potions, and rejected training manuals on "Combat Posing for Beginners."
A rustling sound echoed through the pile.
Then—PLAF—a plastic food container exploded as a hand burst from the mountain of magical trash.
Kazuki Jin sat up slowly, hair matted with what might have once been stew.
He looked around, blinking.
"...Where...?"
He raised his hands, stared at the filth coating his fingers, then glanced at the towering heaps of waste around him.
His voice cracked like a broken flute.
"WHY AM I IN A TRASH PIT?!"
Then a pause.
He furrowed his brows.
"Wait… I remember... I was following my wife's skirt—"
Suddenly, his own smell hit him like a punch.
"OH GODS. WHAT IS THAT STENCH?!"
He gagged, clutching his nose. "Which bastard is managing this pit?! Haven't they heard of deodorizing spells?! Aroma enchantments?! Incense?! ANYTHING?!"
---
Meanwhile, high above in an observatory tower…
A slightly round, velvet-robed Administrator of Summoned Affairs, Lord Bombilio, sat in a plush rotating chair, peering through a long, magically-enhanced telescope pointed at the pit.
He sipped on fizzy grape wine and frowned. "Hmph… the trash is murmuring again."
His assistant, a slender man in silver robes, adjusted his glasses. "Sir, that's Sir Kazuki. The male companion assigned to the Chosen Girl."
Lord Bombilio grunted. "You mean that clown?"
The assistant continued, "You also forgot the soundproofing enchantment for Pit Nine. He's been audible to half the tower since morning."
Bombilio's eyes widened. "We forgot the silence spell?!"
"Yes, sir."
A faint voice echoed up to the tower:
> "DOES THIS SMELL COUNT AS A CURSE?! I SWEAR I STEPPED ON SOMETHING THAT GROWLED!!"
Bombilio winced. "By the Goddess... I thought this pit was for inanimate magical waste!"
The assistant muttered, "You labeled him as 'bio-waste.'"
Bombilio waved it off. "Same difference. Look, he's got no divine blessing, no special skill, no power, and worst of all—he's just a support character. A Hero with no stats is still trash. The Chosen One is the girl, not that pajama-wearing panty goblin."
The assistant hesitated. "Technically, he is still under the protection of the Divine Summoning Order…"
Bombilio raised one finger. "Yes. And technically, this conversation never happened."
Then he leaned closer to the lens again, watching Kazuki try to fight off a possessed umbrella.
"…Still, I must admit, he's persistent."
---
Back in the pit…
Kazuki screamed as a half-melted slime plush latched onto his leg. He kicked it off and held a broken toothbrush like a sword.
"I swear… once I get out of here... I'll make that tsundere skirt-kicker fall in love with me! This is just my tragic arc! The rise of the true hero always starts from the dirt!"
He stood tall atop a pile of trash.
Lightning struck dramatically in the distance.
Then a flying boot hit his head.
"OW!! WHO THREW A BOOT—wait… it's my size."
Kazuki stared down at the lonely boot lying in the filth.
"…Is that a +1 to Defense?"
With complete seriousness, he slipped it onto his foot. Miraculously, it fit.
"Nice. All I need is the other one and I unlock the Full Garbage Set Bonus."
He struck a pose — one foot in a boot, one barefoot — when something squishy climbed up his back.
He froze.
"…Please be a towel."
It jiggled.
He turned his head and screamed.
"AAHH! SLIME!"
A blue, wobbling blob clung to his shoulder like a hungry marshmallow. It blinked.
"OFF! OFF!!" Kazuki flailed and tossed it to the ground.
SPLORCH.
The slime hit the floor like jelly. For a second it seemed down.
He stepped forward, now wearing the single boot, and stomped it with holy confidence.
"Sorry, buddy. I wasn't reincarnated as a slime this time, so no brotherhood today!"
(Isekai Reference +1)
He lifted his foot.
The slime was still completely intact — rippling like water, unfazed.
"...Huh?"
It blinked at him again.
Kazuki frowned, muttering, "Do I need... fire for this?"
He scratched his head. "Or maybe purification... Wait. Wait wait wait... What's its gender?"
He squinted suspiciously at the blob.
"Blue ones are always gender-confused. You could be a misunderstood princess... or a trap... or worse, nonbinary side villain with tragic flashbacks."
The slime blushed — or at least turned a shade purpler.
Kazuki slowly backed away.
"Okay. Nope. I'm not kink-compatible with goo."
The slime burbled affectionately.
"Stop that. No goo noises. You're making it worse."
Meanwhile In Place
SPARK!
A blinding flash erupted in the training arena as two swords collided — steel against steel, energy against intent.
The tiled ground trembled.
CLANG—!
Rika slid back, boots gliding over the glassy surface of the magically polished arena floor. Her eyes remained focused, unwavering, as her blade vibrated gently in her grip.
Across from her stood a tall figure, cloaked in flowing white and silver. His hair like fallen snow, his posture elegant, his sword held with the calm of a man who had seen centuries of battle.
Sir August.
A senior instructor. An elite duelist. And a living legend of Elyria.
He stepped forward, sword raised — yet his tone was gentle.
"You do have talent, Miss Rika," he murmured, almost to himself.
Then, without warning—
He slammed his sword into the ground.
Fwoom—!
A ripple of blue light surged outward, forming ancient sigils along the marble floor. His blade began to rotate on its own — unnaturally, perfectly, like it was being guided by invisible hands.
The atmosphere shifted.
The warmth vanished.
The wind stopped.
Cold seeped in from nowhere.
Magic circles spun to life beneath his feet — rotating in precise mechanical rhythm as snowflake-like symbols danced into the air.
A hum filled the arena.
Then—
In a blink, the spinning blade unleashed a crescent arc of glowing frost-blue energy, tearing across the battlefield like a horizontal lightning bolt.
The very ground froze in its path — ice blooming violently outward, devouring heat and life as it came.
Yet Rika did not blink.
She stepped forward. Calm.
Her blade lifted — one hand, held loosely.
Then, as the icy slash closed in—
She murmured:
> "Disintegrate."
Her sword glowed faintly white. She swung once — almost lazily.
The two attacks met midair.
But instead of an explosion—
The blue wave vanished.
No impact. No burst. It simply... ceased to exist.
The wind returned.
The magic faded.
Silence fell.
Sir August stared, eyebrows raised in visible surprise.
Then he lowered his weapon and nodded slowly.
"…Your powers are fabulous, Miss Rika."
Rika gave a small smile and dipped her head in return.
"Thank you, Sir August."
Back to Trash,
After what felt like half an hour of trudging through soggy tomes, potion residue, and cursed chamber pots, Kazuki Jin finally saw it—
A corridor.
A real one.
Stone floor. Clean walls. Torches that didn't moan when you looked at them.
Civilization.
He stumbled forward like a starving raccoon finally reaching a food stall.
At the end of the corridor stood two heavily armored guards, halberds in hand and expressions carved from stone. One tall and square-jawed, the other short but no less intimidating.
Kazuki straightened his cartoon-covered pajama shirt and tried to walk between them casually, hands in pockets.
"Excuse me, just passing through, nothing to see—"
CLANK!
Their halberds crossed instantly, blocking his path.
Kazuki blinked. "Uh... Sir? I'm the Chosen One's official companion. Support role. Legendary squire-type. So if you could just—"
"Name," the tall one grunted.
"Kazuki Jin. First of his Name. Last of his Clean Pajamas."
They looked at each other, unimpressed.
The shorter one pulled out a glowing blue sphere from a pouch on his belt — a crystalline orb that pulsed with faint magical light.
"Put your hands on the orb," he said flatly.
Kazuki's eyes widened. "Yooo! Is this a Level Assessment Stone? I've seen this in like every anime!"
He placed his hands on it dramatically. "Prepare your eyes, gentlemen! For I am the hidden S-rank! The sealed calamity! The anomaly that bends systems!"
The orb began to glow…
…
…
And then it flickered once—
—and went completely black.
Dead. Silent. Like someone had turned off its soul.
The guards stared at it.
Then at Kazuki.
Then back at the stone.
The short one sighed and tucked it away.
The tall one opened the door.
And in perfect unison—
WHAM!
WHAM!
They kicked Kazuki out through the gate like yesterday's garbage, sending him flying onto the civilian side of the wall with all the grace of a flung laundry sack.
He landed face-first in a cabbage cart.
A nearby old woman screamed. "My cabbages!"
Kazuki groaned, pulling himself upright. "I'm fine… my pride absorbed the fall."
From the hole in his pajama sleeve, something slimy wriggled out.
A blue blob flopped onto the cobblestone beside him with a faint ploop.
It jiggled happily, burbling like a bubbling kettle.
Kazuki blinked. "You... followed me?"
The slime bounced once.
He tilted his head. "Wait… were you hiding in my clothes this whole time?"
The slime nuzzled his ankle.
He scooted back. "Okay, ew. Personal space."
It blinked innocently.
Kazuki stared. "I… I can't believe I'm saying this, but… did I just get isekai'd with a slime sidekick?"
The slime purred.
"Gods, this is like the trashy light novel version of How to Train Your Familiar."
He stood up, cabbage leaves stuck to his hair, and pointed at the horizon.
"Fine. So the system threw me out, Rika ditched me, the magic stone called me a loser, and I smell like fermented snail milk."
He glanced at the slime. "But you… you stuck with me."
The slime wiggled joyfully.
Kazuki smirked.
"…I shall call you… Blobby. Together, we shall rise from disgrace to greatness!"
A cabbage rolled past.
The slime promptly devoured it whole.
Next morning,
The sun hung high over Elyria's outer ring — a quiet civilian district full of laundry lines, bakery smells, and confused goats wandering into alleys.
Inside a creaky little vegetable stand on the corner of Mist Street, Kazuki Jin stood in a dirty apron, holding a sack of turnips over one shoulder. His pajama pants were patched with duct tape. His dignity? Still somewhere in Sacred Waste Disposal Pit No. 9.
Behind him, an old woman with fiery eyes and battle-hardened wrinkles barked commands like a drill sergeant.
"Sort those carrots by curve! And don't fondle them like you did the last batch!"
"I wasn't fondling, I was admiring the organic symmetry," Kazuki muttered under his breath.
"You were sniffing them."
"It was... herbal appreciation."
She squinted. "Another comment like that, and I'm feeding you to the mana chickens."
Kazuki sighed and returned to sorting vegetables. Beside him, nestled in a wooden bowl lined with lettuce leaves, sat the blue slime — still jiggly, still suspiciously clingy.
It burbled softly, looking up at him with shiny eyes.
Kazuki stared at it.
The slime blinked.
He leaned closer.
The slime trembled.
His voice lowered, dangerous and dreamy:
"So soft… So mysterious... So silent… Princess Gorgia, is that you?"
The slime recoiled slightly, shuddering.
Kazuki nodded with exaggerated solemnity.
"Yes. I understand now. You're a mute, noble soul. A fallen princess from the Slime Realms, cursed to travel the world until you find your fated pervert—I mean, protector."
The slime flinched so hard it nearly launched itself off the counter.
Kazuki leaned in more.
"You hide your true form… but don't worry. I, Prince Kazuki of Pajama Order, shall discover your secrets."
He reached out a finger—
Then paused.
"…Tsk."
He turned his head toward the sky, eyes suddenly distant and wistful.
"Still not as hot as my wifey Rika…"
The slime, now fully shaking like a terrified pudding, slowly retreated into the lettuce bowl.
Behind Kazuki, the old woman tossed a tomato at his head.
SPLAT!
"Less monologuing, more mopping!"
He wiped the tomato from his face. "Madam, I'm nursing emotional trauma."
"You're nursing a lawsuit if you keep flirting with the produce."