Vol 1 Chapter 17 – This Was Always a Harem Story

“Ughhhhh I don’t WANNA GO — I seriously don’t WANNA—”

“Ugh, stop — you’re spreading your gloom everywhere.”

I put on a cool act for Cleo and meant every word of it, but deep in my heart, I really, genuinely don’t want to go. On a nice day like this, the only sensible activity is racking up headshots in an online game. That’s a lie. I’m not that good.

It’s not that I dislike adventure stories or war epics — if anything, I’m more into them than not. But there’s a world of difference between enjoying one and actually living inside one. I think that’s a perfectly reasonable position to hold, and I hope it stays that way.

“Why was I so confident back there?”

“Well — you really were cool, Utaki-san.”

“My, my — you two have gotten awfully close, haven’t you. I might get burned.“

“I’m choosing to believe that was an autocorrect error.”

Jealousy isn’t cute. I have a very physical premonition of being literally set on fire.

“What’s the plan for today?”

“Get some kind of weapon, then go meet the king.”

“Oh my — then Maronie-san’s smithy would be perfect.”

“And maybe Aria-san’s after that.”

Aria-san is almost certainly a woman. Maronie — wasn’t that the name of some kind of tree? As someone who’s always been terrible with foreign-sounding names, I have no idea. The thought of having to brace myself every time I met a new girl from here on out was already making my stomach hurt. There was no way I’d ever forget what Rito said to me.

If I were back in the real world, I’d be out there actually enjoying my college life — that’s what I tell myself. Though honestly, with the whole yandere situation, things were pretty much already cooked regardless.

“Anyway — I’ll probably head outside the city walls today after everything’s done. Thanks for everything, you two.”

“Please take care of yourself.”

“And make sure you come back to us in the end — yes?”

“Yeah… I’d like not to die yet, for what it’s worth.”

Every time I talked to anyone who wasn’t Elena, something in their phrasing sent a chill straight down my spine. “Yandere” might be too strong a word — they were too gentle for it. But imagining a future where girls adored me even after I was dead was genuinely terrifying. Were we talking taxidermy? A stuffed Utaki mounted on display somewhere? Hard pass.

Also — they were all yandere, sure, but they were all actively trying to eliminate each other at the same time. Was this a harem? Because it wasn’t quite the harem I had in mind.

“Alright — Elena, lead the way.”

“Leave it to me. You seem a little motivated, hm?”

“Mm… I’ve just been thinking about some things.”

Hmm? Elena smiled, clearly amused. Damn it. Ridiculously cute no matter what.

Vol 1 Chapter 18 – Neutral, Noble, Sacred — or Maybe Just Frustrated and Narcissistic

“Maronie-san’s first — she’s a blacksmith, can make just about anything in the metal weapons category.”

“What’s the main weapon type in this world?”

“Mostly swords and guns, but there are bows and axes too — some people specialize in concealed weapons.”

I thought of a certain monster-hunting game and figured that was probably about right.

Looking around, no one in sight had a weapon hanging openly from their belt. Elena had a gun holstered on her thigh, hidden from view — maybe keeping them out of sight was standard practice. Or maybe it was just a within-the-city thing. That female knight’s body-length greatsword was obviously its own category entirely.

“Ah — and this is quite rare, but—”

“Yeah?”

“There are martial arts that can cut or pierce with bare hands, and there are ability users too.”

“Swap.”

“There’s no such system.”

Nobody told me about that. Was there going to be some crystal-centered world with combat stages? I had some real trauma from the arc where the clown becomes a god, I have to say. Or wait — was it the one literally built around keys? The one about losing your heart? Actually, the thing I hate most is that creepy castle where you forget more and more with every step you take.

“Apparently the Principality of Eibel has the power to revive the dead.”

“Sounds like a dream — and like it’d cause nothing but tragedy.”

“Something called an angel’s egg, apparently. I don’t know the details.”

“Hold on — that’s not the type where your beloved girl comes back as a monster, is it.”

What a name. Stuffed full of meta references, parody, and spoilers all at once — not a shred of subtlety. It’s instantly transparent to anyone in the know, and clearly whoever thought this level of self-referential slop was acceptable thought exactly that. Angels aren’t anything close to beautiful. Wings on women blotting out a red sky is a particular breed of madness, and I’d hesitate to recommend that game to most people. It’s interesting — don’t get me wrong — just not for everyone.

Stepping out onto the main avenue, the crowd thickened instantly. Right — this was the capital. Of course there were people.

It must have been the food district, because the air had that familiar, impossible-to-place smell of something cooking — nostalgic and strange all at once, the kind that makes your stomach rumble with no warning. I still couldn’t tell what kind of meat it was, but the sizzle and pop of oil from the storefronts worked on the appetite just the same, apparently universal across every world in existence.

“Food after shopping.”

“Agreed — that smells amazing. Now I’m hungry too.”

Down the lively street, the stalls gradually shifted — cookware, clothing, medicine.

“Ah — there, that purple sign.”

Elena pointed ahead, and sure enough: a purple sign. Apparently that was Maronie-san’s shop.

Written on it, in a font resembling italics, against a background of poisonous purple, complete with an oversized heart motif, in shocking-pink italics:

Striking with Love — Maronie’s Shop.

“Swap.”

“I understand, but accept your fate.”