Arriving back at my apartment felt… weirdly therapeutic. After everything that had happened—illegal gates, slime royalty, near-electrocution, and the fact I was now living life on Hard Mode with a completely different face—my room still looked the same. Holding the same sense of familiarity that it always did. There was something oddly comforting about it remaining the exact same. It was the only semblance of my life that hadn't changed and I was grateful for that.
Inhaling the stuffy air of my room like I was greeting an old friend, I heading to the shower. Right now, I was a living pile of mess, and although I didn't mind a messy room, a dirty one was a completely different matter.
"Alright," I muttered, peeling my hoodie off.
Ten minutes passed as I showered, concentrating on cleaning myself properly. Usually, I wasn't such a cleanliness stickler, operating on a five-minute wash-and-go. But somehow, with the change in gender and stuff some of my habits had changed. Honestly, I hadn't noticed it before, but now it was getting too hard not to notice. For one, I was a lot more impulsive than I used to be. My emotions deviated a lot quicker and I found myself getting more embarrassed, and obviously, the shower thing.
I mean, I was still me. Just a bit different, although it did feel disconcerting.
My stomach growled, interrupting my thoughts in protest.
'Fine.'
I hopped out of the shower, changed into some oversized clothes, and wandered into the kitchenette. I stared into my cupboard. There wasn't much. Past me had survived purely on convenience store runs and a heroic refusal to meal prep. Now I was beginning to feel the aftereffects, as such food no longer looking as appealing. Still, I found bread and butter. Which meant I could create what food scholars around the globe called the bare minimum.
I shoved two slices into the toaster and waited, arms crossed, watching the coils glow as they toasted the bread. When the toast finally popped out, I slathered it with a generous amount of butter, making sure each corner was covered. That was one of my pet peeves: toast that was not properly slathered. It was a disservice to the food. Surely, every corner of the toast deserved equal attention and care? Some could call me a food communist, but toast any other way just didn't feel right.
After making sure my toast was adequately taken care of, I took the plate to the small table near my couch, dropped into a seat, and let out a satisfied sigh.
"Look at me," I said, biting into toast. "A functioning member of society."
The toast was decent. About as good as toast could taste. The kind of food you eat when you were hungry but didn't want to cook. I searched the couch for the TV remote, after all what was food without TV? It was like completing one half of a puzzle. Without it, the meal would forever be incomplete. Grabbing the remote with one hand I flicked it on. The screen lit up instantly.
NEW TOKYO NIGHTLY NEWS.
A well-dressed reporter appeared, posture perfect, expression serious in the exact way reporters practiced in mirrors.
"Good evening," she said. "We begin tonight with breaking developments in Narakimi. Hunter ranked number one hundred ninety-five in Japan—known publicly as Flashy Gold—has been found dead near a local club."
I froze mid-chew. The butter in my mouth turned to paste.
'Found dead.'
The way the reporter was breaking the news didn't sound like some random collapse or health issue. I turned the volume up, listening with more intent.
The screen shifted to blurred footage: flashing police lights, a blocked-off street, silhouettes moving behind tape. The name Flashy Gold appeared on-screen in bold text with a picture of a man in his mid-twenties with golden blond hair. On his face, a flashy smile was plastered, golden grills adorned onto his teeth. I could understand where he got his hunter name from. His whole outfit screamed I'm rich, making me a little bit jealous considering my shabby living circumstances.
'Well, he is dead. I wouldn't want that.'
The reporter continued.
"Authorities have not released details regarding the cause of death, though sources confirm the incident is being treated as a suspected homicide. The investigation remains ongoing."
A smaller line of text slid along the bottom, "Possible link to series of recent hunter-related deaths."
My eyebrows twitched upward.
"Hunter-related deaths," I muttered around my toast. "That's a fun way to say someone is picking off people."
The reporter's tone grew more speculative.
"Some analysts believe these events may be correlated with a string of smaller incidents occurring between hunters over the past month, though no official confirmation has been made."
The screen flickered through more footage. Showing tapes and lights of the scene. This kind of sterile chaos was the type that always looked the same no matter what city you were in. I swallowed, suddenly very aware that my apartment was quiet. It seemed no matter what happened, the world was still the world. Chaos could be found in any corner, and inside this chaos someone was hunting hunters.
"That's… rough," I said quietly, then took another bite.
Flashy Gold, ranked one-ninety-five. That wasn't a small name. Not a random low-rank who got unlucky. If someone could kill a ranked hunter and dump the body next to a club like it was trash—
My stomach tightened.
"This toast has officially been ruined," I muttered. "Thanks, New Tokyo News. Really uplifting."
The segment ended. The anchor smoothly transitioned to another story, something about transit reforms and convenience store price hikes. The sudden change in tone was quite jarring, like they hadn't just dropped a bomb into my living room. I clicked the TV off, silence rushing back into the room.
And here I was just trying to relax.
For a second, I just stared at my plate. Then I exhaled slowly.
"Okay," I said, forcing my voice back into normal. "That's future me's problem. Present me is still a broke, unlicensed disaster."
I finished my toast. When the last bite was gone, I wiped my hands, stood up, and immediately felt that familiar itch in my brain. The itch that only one thing could scratch.
The Hunter Forum.
I hadn't logged on properly since… well, since I'd posted about surviving a land eel and gotten cyberbullied into early retirement. But I had something now. Something juicy. Something nobody would believe.
Which meant, naturally, I had to share it. I sat at my desk, woke my PC from sleep, and watched it flicker to life like a loyal dog.
"Okay," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Time to do what I do best."
I opened the browser, navigated to the forum, and logged into my alt.
The screen loaded. "Pinned Thread: STOP POSTING YOUR AWAKENING FANFICTION HERE."
I ignored it, opening up a new post.
[New Post – Dungeon Reports | By: Anon-Chan]
Title: F-rank dungeon contained a D-rank monster. Yes, really.
I stared at the empty text box.
Then I began typing.
So I went into an F-rank dungeon, name can't be exposed. You know, the kind they market to newbies. "Oh, it's beginner-friendly!" "Oh, just some slimes and leeches!" "Oh, you'll be fine!" Basically, a beginner instance. F-rank slop. Except it wasn't standard misery, because after I took a secret tunnel (read: a hole that I found), I landed in a chamber and met Slime Prime. And before you say "lol nice fanfic," let me clarify:
Slime Prime was a D-rank threat. Not felt like D-rank. Not my emotions rated it D. The SYSTEM itself tagged it as D-.
It threw minions at me like some kind of gelatinous mafia boss and then tried to turn me into soup. I still won. Yes, I was solo. Yes, I know it was stupid. No, I do not recommend it unless you have a death wish, a weapon, and a concerning amount of spite. Anyway, anyone ever seen a gate do this before? Because I'm starting to think beginner dungeon is just marketing.
I leaned back in my chair and read it once.
Then twice.
Then I added one last line at the bottom, because I couldn't help myself.
Also, if any of you say pics or it didn't happen, I will personally mail you a jar of slime.
I hit post, then waited.
The replies came faster than last time, like sharks smelling blood.
User_StormBlade: D-rank in an F-rank. Yeah okay. Next you'll tell us you're secretly Rank 1.
User_GateWatch: Another newbie writing fiction because they got bored.
User_TinfoilTank: WAIT... I think this one has brain damage.
User_ActualMedic: There is no such thing as Slime Prime. That sounds like a children's toy.
User_SRankMyFoot: You didn't beat a D-rank. You got lucky and misread the appraisal. Get your eyesight checked.
User_NoAwakeningNoOpinion: Stop posting nonsense. People come here for real information.
User_SilverC: "I took a secret tunnel" you mean you fell into a hole like an idiot?
I stared at the screen.
My eye twitched.
"Oh my god," I whispered. "Not again."
I typed back immediately.
Me: I did not "misread the appraisal." It literally said D- in my face. In capital letters, with judgment. Also Slime Prime absolutely exists because it tried to murder me. That's a very real experience.
The responses multiplied.
User_ActualVeteran: If a D-rank appeared in an F gate, that's an anomaly. Report it properly.
User_GateWatch: "Report it properly" to WHO? The Association? lol
User_StormBlade: Considering they are anonymous, they are either a troll or weren't even supposed to be in there.
User_TinfoilTank: Unlicensed? Interesting. Very interesting.
User_ForumMod: Keep reports factual. Thread will be monitored.
My stomach sank slightly at the word monitored.
Then my anger replaced it instantly.
Me: "Keep reports factual" I AM BEING FACTUAL. Sorry I didn't bring a film crew into the dungeon with me. Also, if you don't believe me, that's fine. I didn't believe in Slime Prime either, and look how that turned out.
Someone replied with a laughing emoji. Someone else replied with a gif of a slime bouncing.
'What did I expect from this forum.'
User_SlimeEnjoyer: If Slime Prime is real, I'd like to marry him.
I slammed my palm on the desk.
"WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?" I hissed at the monitor like it could answer. Could nobody give any constructive feedback. Was this forum always full of birdbrained mega turds?
Like a sinner looking for redemption, I carried on scrolling through the filth hoping for at least one useful reply. That was when my eyes caught a reply buried lower down. It was much less sarcastic and more direct.
User_WardenHopeful: If you're serious, anomalies can happen when a gate's output drifts. I heard rumours that certain gates in America has been weird lately. My cousin's guild said output readings were off. That gates can spawn entities above its rating if something's stressing it. If you really saw D-, that's not normal. Watch for repeat behaviour.
My fingers paused over the keyboard.
Okay.
That was… actually useful.
The information wasn't very uplifting but it did tell me something. Number one that I couldn't dismiss everyone on here as idiots being idiots. But secondly, and more importantly, that the dungeon might've been having issues. That it might've been changing.