Vol 1 Chapter 37 – Can a Doctor and a Liberal Arts Student Even Hold a Conversation?

“Cleo told me something — that the logic of this world doesn’t add up.”

“…He is a perceptive child, but I never imagined he’d gone that far.”

“He said the Demon King system felt wrong to him, too. That he couldn’t say that to anyone.”

“He is my son, after all. I suppose that might be another bug in the system.”

I wish he wouldn’t put it that way — but at the same time, that explanation is the one that fits best because he’s the half-blood child of someone from another world. Because he was born the same as his father. If the unease he feels is a system error — one built into him from birth — well. That’s just speculation, anyway.

“Back when I arrived, Japan already had the Famicom. The worldbuilding here maps onto that almost perfectly. I’ve crossed paths with others who’ve been reincarnated or transported here since then, and from what they tell me, modern society back home hasn’t changed all that dramatically.”

“It does feel like one of those popular novels you see everywhere.”

“Games were never really part of my life, so I’m not the most knowledgeable on the subject.”

Yeah — I’d been more than a little worried that having a conversation with someone like me would just be exhausting for him. I’m not exactly a sharp conversationalist. He’s a doctor. Outside of actual medical appointments, he probably doesn’t talk to people my age all that often. If he’s been calibrating to someone at my level this whole time, I’m honestly impressed it’s been going this well.

“As far as I can tell, this is the third time the Demon King versus humanity cycle has played out in the twenty years I’ve been here. I haven’t met the current one, but I knew the previous Demon King quite well. They’ve even been helping me with my treatment research.”

Right, I’d almost forgotten — this world runs on a clear-the-scenario model. Once the battle ends, it’s done like those blooper reels at the end of CG-animated films. No fixed schedule, sometimes it wraps up fast — I can kind of intuit that much. Games come in all kinds, after all. Some take months of playthroughs. Some you finish in under ten hours.

“I could introduce you to the previous one, actually — Rottal.”

“Out of curiosity, who won last time?”

“The Demon King’s side. Though as for what actually changed afterward…”

Dr. Takamitsu trailed off, deep in thought. Something was sitting with him.

“Well, normally nothing… but last time…”

“Did something happen? Doctor — if I can understand why this world works the way it does, it might explain why we ended up here. And it might explain what’s been troubling Cleo.”

“Do you want to go home?”

“…Huh?”

“I’ve aged twenty years in this world. Of course, I wonder about family back home, about what Japan looks like now. But my wife is here. My daughters are here. My friends are here. What about you? You haven’t been here long at all. Why are you going this far for Cleo’s sake?”

Do I want to go home?

I’d completely forgotten that was even a thing to want. Maybe I’d just crammed in too many other concerns, but the idea of returning to my original world hadn’t crossed my mind in a while. Come to think of it — when did I decide I had to do any of this?

“It’s because you’ve been conditioned to think like a hero~!”

“You look terrible. What happened, Rito?”

“You left us behind at the victory parade! That’s what! Utaki-san, you’re heartless!”

Vol 1 Chapter 38 – Hero, Introvert, Whatever — I Give Up Caring

“It was awful, just awful! Because the main guy wasn’t there, we got treated like the hero’s entourage!”

“Sounds great, honestly.”

“I’m just a regular civilian who’s scared of fighting! I got completely mobbed!”

“Wait — are you bad with crowds?”

“I’m bad with… women…”

“You’re fine with Elena and Titania, though.”

“People I know are… sort of manageable, I guess…”

Come to think of it, during the whole Fia situation, he’d been hovering quietly at the back — I figured part of it was nerves, but it was probably also because Fia was a girl. That actually makes sense now.

Also, Rito showing up completely dissolved whatever serious atmosphere we’d had going, which means he basically dumped everything on Ros and bolted. Unbelievable.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, but my feelings deserve some consideration too!”

“Hard pass.”

“Utaki-saaaaan, you’re so crueeeel!”

I leave Rito to his dramatic collapse and turn back to what Dr. Takamitsu said earlier — that he knew the previous Demon King. And that last time, the Demon King’s side won. He didn’t seem able to recall the details clearly, but something not-quite-normal had happened. I need to meet this person.

“Doctor — I’d like to meet the previous Demon King.”

“At this hour she’s probably… oh, actually — speak of the devil.”

“Oh my, is it a private booking? Should I come back?”

“Rotta, perfect timing — we were just talking about you.”

“About me? Oh — you’re the current hero, aren’t you? How do you do, nice to meet you.”

“Ah — yes, nice to meet you.”

She looked human at first glance — except for the horns. Black and tightly coiled, like a ram’s, curving out from her head. She wore a black-based knit top and a tight skirt that fell to mid-shin. The overall impression was of a refined, well-put-together woman. But still.

“You have questions for me, I take it?”

She smiled warmly, and the former Demon King — person? being? — settled herself onto the sofa with an unhurried elegance. The café owner set a cup of tea and a small jug of milk in front of her without a word. Clearly a regular. That tracks. I’d heard that once the conflict ends, there are no more sides — but seeing it played out at this level, woven into ordinary daily life like this, was still somehow surprising. No wonder nothing makes sense.

“Allow me to reintroduce myself properly — I’m Rottal, the previous Demon King. Lovely to meet you, young man.”

“Utaki, reluctant hero. Nice to meet you.”

“My, you don’t mince words, do you?”

She laughed — a short, slightly startled sound — like someone who’d been caught off guard.

Dr. Takamitsu ordered a coffee refill, and the smell drifting from the counter was genuinely wonderful. My cold drink still had some left, so I was fine. Rito was quietly sniffling somewhere behind me while Pakira laughed and patted him on the back. The owner had apparently set an orange juice in front of him at some point. Kind soul.

That was the thought I was having — right up until:

“Now then, what did you want to ask? Tips on how to win over my daughter?”

Hold on. Did she just say daughter?