What a waste of time
Yuuto's boots scraped against the pavement as he walked away from the Occult Club building, hands shoved deep in his pockets. The long shadows stretched across Kuoh Academy's grounds like accusing fingers.
His shoulders ached. Not from physical exertion, but from the sheer weight of accumulated bullshit that kept piling onto his plate like some cosmic waiter had mistaken him for someone who ordered the "suffering special."
I went out there to look for a familiar and ended up becoming a familiar to a beautiful, voluptuous Dragon King.
His face heated at the memory of Tiamat's binding ceremony. The soft warmth beneath his palm. Those dark blue eyes gleaming with amusement as she'd watched him struggle to maintain composure. The way she'd leaned in close enough that her breath had ghosted across his ear, cold and deliberate—
"Fuck!" He said it out loud, shaking his head violently enough to give himself whiplash.
A passing couple gave him a weird look, the woman clutching her boyfriend's arm tighter as they hurried past. He ignored them.
My luck with women older than me is getting way off the charts.
'It was getting ridiculous, honestly. Roygun with her teasing smiles and flirtatious energy that felt like playing with fire except the fire was sapient and found your discomfort hilarious. Akeno who seemed to tease him in that sultry voice that probably violated several public decency laws. And now Tiamat, who'd turned "magical binding contract" into what felt suspiciously like foreplay designed to kill him via embarrassment'
'Was this some kind of trait from assimilating character cards? Did Muichiro have secret rizz he'd never activated because he was too busy staring at clouds and forgetting his own name? Or was Yuuto just naturally cursed to attract women who could probably snap him like a twig and look like they'd enjoy doing it?'
He snorted, the sound bitter in the empty street. Yeah, probably not. Original Yuuto Kiba from canon had been handsome and popular, sure, but he'd been so laser-focused on revenge against the Holy Sword Project that romance hadn't even registered on his radar. Girls had thrown themselves at him and he'd barely noticed, too consumed by hatred and survivor's guilt to care about anything except killing Valper Galilei.
Until other characters and his own transmigrated soul had mixed into whatever cocktail of personality he was now, relationships had been the furthest thing from his mind.
But now? Now things were different. He was different. Still driven, still determined, but with enough emotional awareness to actually notice when attractive women paid attention to him.
Which was both a blessing and a curse, emphasis heavily on curse.
His thoughts derailed as something occurred to him, a realization that made his steps lighter despite everything.
It's rather rewarding that I only got affection from them so far.
Roygun clearly found him amusing, maybe even genuinely liked him beyond just entertainment value. Their conversations felt natural, comfortable, lacking the political maneuvering he'd expected from devil nobility.
Akeno's teasing felt playful rather than cruel, more like a cat batting at a toy than anything malicious. And Tiamat... well, she'd let him live, which probably counted as affection by Dragon King standards. She'd even made that offer about letting him touch—
"Stay Hard" Louder this time, startling a cat that yowled and bolted from a nearby bush like he'd personally offended its ancestors.
An old woman watering her plants gave him a concerned look through her window. He waved awkwardly and picked up his pace.
Focus. Priorities. Stop thinking about dragon boobs.
At least none of them were trying to kill him. That put them solidly ahead of, Riser Phenex, who wanted to marry his King and would probably incinerate anyone who got in his way with the casual indifference of someone swatting a fly.
Speaking of problems that refused to leave him alone...
While I'm still on my way back home with detailed dinner plans, I should check out what card I got from those damn wolves.
He'd felt the notification ping during the walk back through the Familiar Forest, that familiar mental chime that signaled a new character card. But between Asia consoling him about not finding a familiar and deflecting Rias's questions about why he'd taken so long and looked like he'd seen a ghost, he hadn't had time to check.
Character cards were important.
They were literally the foundation of his strength, the cheat ability that let a transmigrated soul compete with actual supernatural beings who'd been training for decades or centuries.
The familiar blue screen materialized in front of him, invisible to anyone else but clear as day to his eyes. Translucent, glowing softly, floating in his vision like an AR display from a sci-fi movie.
*[1 Character Card Available]*
His finger hovered over the notification for a moment. Character cards were a gamble. Sometimes you got Muichiro Tokito and unlocked breathing techniques that let you slice demons like they were made of clouds. Sometimes you got Usopp and gained observation haki plus an arsenal of tricks that had saved his ass more times than he could count.
But sometimes—and this was the part that made him nervous—sometimes the universe had a sense of humor. The cruel kind. The kind that gave you exactly what you needed but packaged with enough drawbacks to make you question whether it was worth it.
"Alright." He took a breath, steeling himself. "Let's see what fresh hell awaits me."
He mentally selected the card, and the screen responded instantly.
Light flared across the display, bright enough that he squinted reflexively. Pixels coalesced and danced, forming shapes and colors that solidified into a familiar figure.
Long blonde hair tied back with a ponytail. Heavy plate armor that looked like it could withstand a direct hit from a siege weapon. Yellow eyes that gleamed with an expression somewhere between noble determination and barely concealed masochism. And that posture—proud, upright, radiating knightly dignity while somehow simultaneously screaming "please step on me."
*[Character Card: Darkness (Konosuba)]*
Yuuto stopped walking.
Just... stopped.
Dead in his tracks, right in the middle of the sidewalk.
His eye twitched.
Then twitched again.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me."
The screen cheerfully displayed more information, completely oblivious to his growing horror:
*[Description: Lalatina "Darkness" Dustiness Ford, a Crusader with impenetrable defense and absolutely zero ability to hit anything she aims at. Possesses incredible durability, high endurance, and a disturbing tendency to get excited when threatened with violence or humiliation. Skills include: Decoy (forcing enemies to attack her), various defensive techniques, and an unmatched talent for turning any dangerous situation into something uncomfortable for everyone involved. Warning: May cause party members psychological damage, has masochistic tendencies that border on concerning, and her accuracy is so bad she once missed the ground. But hey, she can tank literally anything! Her defense is legendary. Also, she's technically nobility, which comes with its own complications.]*
"Darkness." He said her name like it was a curse. Which, in a way, it absolutely was. "The crusader who can't hit the broad side of a barn from the inside. The walking shield who gets excited when monsters threaten to do terrible things to her. The noble masochist who made her entire party question their life choices on a daily basis. Sigh, I quit for today"
He cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose hard enough to leave a mark.
I only had to worry about defeating Riser Phenex. Just one flaming chicken bastard with regeneration and a superiority complex. That was the plan. Train hard, get stronger, maybe find a way to counter his phoenix powers, win the Rating Game, save Rias from a forced marriage. Simple. Achievable. A clear goal with a clear path forward.
But now?
Now he not only had to defeat Riser Phenex and but also have to awaken Ddraig in Issei's Sacred Gear within a month or Tiamat would hunt him down and probably do things that made "incineration" look merciful by comparison.
Apparently, Darkness's abilities meant he could take hits and had incredible defensive capabilities, but also probably couldn't hit a target if his life depended on it.
Wait.
He paused, a horrible thought occurring to him. The system did mentioned him that he will get skills and experience along with abilities but he wasn't sure if he would be getting masochism as a skill in reward.
Does this mean I'm going to start enjoying getting hurt? Is this going to mess with my head? Am I going to turn into some kind of battle-crazed lunatic who charges into danger for the thrill?
The system didn't answer, which he chose to interpret as "figure it out yourself"
"Why do troubles keep finding me?" He asked the universe at large, resuming his walk with considerably less enthusiasm than before. "I'm not even looking for them anymore. They just show up like 'hey Yuuto, you look like you don't have enough problems, want some more? Here, have a crusader's defense that come with masochist tendencies and a contract with a Dragon King who definitely will kill you if you fail. Enjoy!'"
He threw the character card into the last empty slot of his inventory as he questioned the universe, why such a bad day today?
The universe, predictably, didn't answer. It never did. Probably because it was too busy laughing at him.
He sighed—long, deep, the kind of sigh that originated somewhere around his soul and traveled up through his entire body—and started walking again with renewed determination. His apartment wasn't far now.
Just a few more minutes and he could collapse onto his bed, maybe scream into a pillow for therapeutic purposes, possibly contemplate whether alcohol could affect reincarnated devils because he could really, really use a drink right about now.
. . .
Finally.
Sweet, blessed home where he could decompress without worrying about Dragon Kings or crusaders or contracts or—
He fished his key from his pocket as he approached his door, guiding it into the lock with a satisfying click-clack.
But as he turned the handle, something made him pause.
Lights are on?
Through the gap beneath his door, warm light spilled out onto the hallway floor. Bright. Steady. Definitely not the darkness he should be seeing. Definitely not how he'd left it this morning when he'd rushed out to meet Rias and the others.
His instincts and every sense sharpened, focusing on the space beyond his door like a blade drawn from its sheath.
Observation Haki
The technique flowed through him like water, smooth and natural as breathing. Usopp's inherited ability spreaded his awareness throughout his apartment in an invisible wave, painting a mental map of presences and objects and movement.
Living room: empty. Bedroom: empty. Bathroom: empty. Kitchen—
Someone's in the kitchen?
His eye twitched again. Seriously? What kind of burglar broke into someone's apartment and then just... hung out in the kitchen? Were they making a sandwich? Raiding his fridge? Cooking dinner? What kind of polite criminal was this?
Nonetheless...
He pushed the door open slowly, every sense on alert. His hand didn't quite reach for summoning swords in his own apartment, it seemed excessive and would probably violate his lease—but the energy thrummed just beneath his skin, ready to manifest in an instant if needed.
The entryway was undisturbed. Shoes neatly arranged on the rack. His coat hanging where he'd left it. Nothing stolen or moved or obviously tampered with.
He crept forward, movements silent as mist, channeling Muichiro's natural stealth until he reached the living room. From there, he could see directly into his kitchen through the open doorway.
And what he saw made his brain short-circuit worse than when Tiamat had stripped naked in front of him.
What... the actual... fuck?
Standing near his stove, humming a cheerful tune as she stirred something that smelled absolutely divine— he couldn't identify—was Roygun Belphegor.
Wearing just a naked apron.
Nothing else.
. . .
For advance chapters, you can check on
p*treon.com/opeler
Replace * with a