Chapter 3: Him... Heh.

(Hiroto’s POV)

“Hiroto-sama, say ah.”

Serah leaned close, spoon in hand, eyes glittering with that sickening mix of devotion and desperation. Her golden hair framed her face like a portrait, her lips curved in a rehearsed smile that screamed: pick me.

I didn’t even need to answer.

“You noble slut!” Elira’s voice cracked from across the table. She’d been so busy glaring at Serah that she almost choked on her own meat. “How dare you try something so shameless!”

Not wanting to lose, the little genius flicked her wrist. Mana shimmered around her plate as a thick slice of moose meat floated up, cut itself into a perfect bite, and drifted toward my lips. “S-Say ah, Hiroto-sama.”

I almost laughed. The two of them, tripping over themselves to feed me like I was some emperor, when really, I was just enjoying the show.

Serah’s face contorted. “Pfft, there’s no way Hiroto-sama would eat that! Feeding him like a child?! it’s insulting!”

The floating meat zipped forward like a dart and smacked her across the cheek and pricking her eyes.

“GHAH!? You brat!” she screeched, clutching her eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re any better, flaunting your fake nobility!”

And just like that, they were at each other’s throats again, voices rising, insults sharpened like blades.

I leaned back, watching them tear into each other over me. Lovely.

Then, a whisper.

“Hiroto… sama…”

I turned. Kestrel was there, hovering behind me. Her eyes were half-lidded, her breath shaky, a faint tremor running through her gloved hand. She lifted her fork, still slick with her saliva, and held out a half-chewed piece of meat. Her lips quivered in a nervous attempt at a smile.

“...A-ah♡?”

I didn’t hesitate. I leaned forward and bit from the fork, her eyes lighting up the second my lips brushed the prongs.

Of course I ate it.

Heh. How amusing.

Ever since I was dragged into this world, everything had bent to me. No rules. No consequences. No society to chain me down with petty little things like morals.

All thanks to the little gift that foolish god tossed me on the way down.

(Hiroto Nisemono)

"Ladies and gentlemen," I began, descending the grand spiral staircase with a glass of 1983 Bordeaux in my hand and a grin sharper than my jawline.

A camera flashed. Applause. Admiration.

Envy.

"Thank you for attending this humble gathering."

My voice carried, of course. It always did. Polished, practiced, precise.

A young intern from R&D fainted. Or swooned.

"Tonight is not just a celebration of quarterly success-"

Step. Step. Step.

"-but a celebration of Me, You, us!"

I raised the glass, light bouncing off crystal and pride.

Laughter. More cameras. Jealous glares from the board.

A slight clink as I swirled the wine.

Who would've guessed that little prototype was that good? It built my entire empire. Too bad he had to die trying to stop me from "borrowing" his idea. If I'd been a bit cleaner about it, maybe he’d still be licking at my shoes. Damn shame, he was a useful tool.

Step. Step-

SLIP.

-what?

CRASH.

Wine everywhere. My suit. My face. The floor.

The glass shattered.

I flailed.

Dignity peeled off mid-air like a bad stock investment.

I landed.

Hard.

Applause stopped. Breath held. Someone gasped.

"...Ha-ha..."

I was still alive. Barely.

Embarrassed, yes.

Humiliated, yes.

But alive.

Pain blooming in my shoulder.

My spine protesting.

My pride somewhere ten feet behind me.

"Oof... heh... Well... that's one way to get a reaction- I'm okay everyon-"

SKCH.

"...Urgh?"

A sound. Wet. Sharp.

My body didn’t move. But my brain-

My brain screamed.

I couldn’t. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t think.

Something was inside me.

A piece of the shattered wine glass had come along for the ride.

Lodged clean through my eye.

And deep into my-

...

...

...

No no no no NO!

I twitched. Jerked. Coughed.

Blood filled my throat.

I pissed myself.

Someone screamed.

"CALL AN AMBULANCE!"

No one moved.

Cameras kept rolling.

This isn’t how I go.

I’m Hiroto Nisemono! I own patents! I own buildings! I own people!

I don’t die on the fucking stairs!

I won't die like that tool!

...

...

I reached out.

Tried to say something.

I think I gurgled.

People were backing away. Not toward. Away.

...

I saw shoes. Polished. Mine.

Above them, a billboard on the event screen was still playing my sizzle reel.

"THE MAN WHO NEVER FALLS."

...

...

...

FUC-

...

A void. An absence. A reboot.

...

Then, a voice.

"Ah. You’re awake. I-I'm SORRY! I'm STILL new to this gig!"

...Huh? Where the hell-

"PLEASE, don't file a complain to higher up or I'd get FIRED!"

...

"Huh?"

"You DiEd...."

...

"HUH?!"

"I SWEAR I AM SOWWYY!"

[Outlander’s Privilege.]

My cheat. Compensation for her accidental killing, tch, my blood boil whenever I remembered her.

Almost immeasurable power? Sure. But the real treasure was subtler. It warped everything in my favor. People bent, shifted, folded toward me. Strangers trusted me. Nobles bowed. Kings smiled. As long as no one poked too hard, they all my believer.

Even as CEO back then, I still could get canceled, but not now.

And women? Oh, women were mine for the taking.

With a thought, I could slip into their minds. Unravel their walls. Etch myself into them. Plant myself so deep they couldn’t tell where I ended and they began. A little here, a little there. Whisper. Touch. Smile. Soon enough, they weren’t theirs anymore. They were me.

Extensions of myself.

Serah. My proud knight. So obsessed with honor, so full of righteousness it was laughable. I wanted to see her stripped of all that. I wanted her desperate, clawing for the approval she once swore only to gods and kings. Now, she’s mine. My knight. My whore.

Elira. The prodigy. Brilliant, cold, arrogant. She thought herself untouchable, too clever for others to keep up. But brilliance is just loneliness with a fancy title. She reached out to Serah once, maybe thought she’d found a kindred soul. Both of them were close and that where found her solace for the first time. But Serah was eventually already mine, and through her, Elira became mine too. She doesn’t even realize how far she’s fallen.

And Kestrel… Ah, Kestrel. The Church’s little black pet. A blade with no will, forged only for killing. She was the trickiest. Not because she resisted, but because there wasn’t much of her to take. Just obedience and emptiness. I had to break her carefully, carve a place for myself where nothing existed. And now? She waits for my word like a starved animal.

They still look like themselves. They still argue, fight, laugh, cry. But the truth is simple. At any moment, I could smooth them out into nothing more than pliant toys, eager to please, free of jealousy.

But where’s the fun in that?

I’m a man of taste.

Better to let them think they’re still alive. Still fighting. Still choosing. All while dancing to my strings.

And Sei… sweet, innocent Sei. The Saint. Half a year, and I still can’t get a proper grip on her mind. That blasted Title shields her, keeps her thoughts just out of my reach. Every time I make progress, it resets, like a door slamming shut.

No matter. Titles can’t protect a heart. If her faith wavers… if I can break her in other ways…

I’ll get her eventually.

Her smile, her tears, her prayers, they’ll be mine too.

Heh.

Crack!

The door from the back room swung open.

“GHAHAHAHAHA!”

The noise shattered the tension like a hammer through glass.

Elaister.

That damned masked girl. Cloaked in chaos, visor gleaming with smug purple light. She swaggered out like she owned the place, her laugh sharp enough to draw blood.

And unlike the others… I couldn’t touch her.

My Privilege slipped right off her, like trying to grab smoke. It was infuriating. As if something, her mask, her aura, I didn’t know, walled her away from my reach.

But that didn’t matter.

Not yet.

Because the moment she laughed like that, with that reckless fire burning in her eyes…

I knew.

I wanted her too.

“So, Hero,” she said, dragging out the word like it was a mockery. “Enjoying your little buffet?”

Her word, daring me.

I smiled back. Slow. Cold. The kind of smile that made all three of my girls stiffen like dolls awaiting command.

“Oh,” I said softly. “More than you know.”

I stood up slowly.

The girls flanked me without needing to be told.

Serah wiped her cheek, trying to regain composure. Elira glared at Elaister like a wet cat. Kestrel said nothing, but I could feel her tension.

Elaister didn’t flinch.

That made her more than annoying.

That made her useful.

Maybe even fun.

I smiled.

“Well then,” I said, stepping closer, “since we’re all done with breakfast… why don’t we have a proper match, just as promised?”

She probably grined under her silver mask.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Third pov)

“Hear me, you glorified background NPCs! You’re about to witness the grand, spectacular, absolutely awe-inspiring unveiling of what true combat genius looks like!”

Elaister’s voice cut through the humid air like a blade dipped in vinegar. She stood at the edge of the sun-dappled forest clearing, her lab coat flaring in the breeze as if nature itself recognized her self-declared magnificence.

Her silver mask gleamed with each movement, reflecting not only light but her overinflated ego.

Arms wide, back slightly arched, she spun dramatically as though on a stage.

“I hope you're all taking notes, because this will be on the final exam of life! GHAHAHAHA!”

Serah was adjusting her armor straps, sword resting against her shoulder, her shield glinting in the sun.

Elira stood a pace behind her, staff in hand, runes faintly glowing along its length.

Kestrel kept her hood up despite the heat, fingers brushing over the small leather pockets sewn inside her cloak, each one carrying some tool of death.

“Pretty nice team lineup we have here,” Elaister drawled. She lifted one finger and ticked them off. “Long‑range DPS, frontline fighter, and sneaky support assassin.”

“D… P… S?” Elira tilted her head, brows knitting.

“Damage per second. Means you’re the boom‑boom cannon, Brainiac.” Elaister winked.

Elira bristled. “That isn’t even a proper magical term.”

“Hey, Elira,” Serah cut in sharply, lowering her visor. “Focus.”

Elaister barked out a laugh, throwing her head back. “That’s the spirit, Blondie. Don’t let the jargon get in the way of the art of combat.” She stomped once, her boot sparking faintly. “But It’s high noon already! How about we start the presentation and stop planing my death?!”

The declaration rang through the clearing. Even the cicadas paused.

Hiroto smirked, stepping back until his shoulders touched bark. He gestured lazily with one hand, his tone calm, controlled, like a conductor starting a symphony.

“All right then… Girls, take your positions.”

The trio and Elaister take their positions.

“Begin!”

“[Charge]!”

Serah exploded forward. Armor clanged as her boots dug into the earth, shield raised high. For someone weighed down in steel, she moved fast. Faster than most people carrying metal on their body Elaister had probably faced.

“GHAHAHAHA! Ain’t that predictable, Blondie-”

Elaister’s grin widened as her mana barrier flared to life in front of her. But the moment Serah’s shield slammed into it.

Crack!

The barrier shattered like glass.

“-the hell?!”

Eyes wide, Elaister whipped Pandora up between them just in time to absorb the brunt of the collision. The cube sparked, its violet facets groaning under the force.

“I got you!” Serah roared, swinging her sword down in a clean arc.

Elaister bent her knees and launched upward. The blade whooshed past, catching nothing but air.

“Too slow!” Elaister crowed, twisting midair. Her boot pointed straight at Serah’s helmet.

BOOM.

A fiery blast erupted from her sole, hurling her backward even as the explosion scorched against Serah’s visor. The knight staggered but the steel held, saving her face. Elaister landed several strides away, smoke curling around her boots.

“Meet my ExplosiveToh! THE Boots for every explosive kick and jump need you didn’t know you had!”

She barely had time to dust her gloves before blue streaks whistled toward her.

Homing.

Dozens of glowing mana bolts, their trails curling like serpents as they adjusted mid‑flight.

“Oh, come on!” Elaister groaned, raising Pandora to meet them. “Elira, ain’t you a genius?! You know this won’t-”

The first bolt hit.

Instead of dispersing harmlessly, it detonated against her defense with a boom that rocked the clearing. Then another. And another.

Elaister gritted her teeth, eyes widening. Pandora hummed under the strain, its barrier flaring hexagonal as it struggled to hold.

“Don’t tell me these things are alive-”

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

The impact shook her stance, heat licking her cheek through her mask.

“Adaptive constructs,” Elira’s voice floated calmly over the chaos, smug and sharp. “They’re not just mana. I bound them with elemental spirits. You can’t absorb them like common spells.”

Elaister threw her head back and laughed, the sound cracking through the smoke like thunder.

“GHAHAHAHAHA! You figured it out?! Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

She stomped once, Pandora sparking violently. A pulse of violet energy erupted from the cube, scattering the lingering embers. She steadied herself, crouching low-

A flicker of motion caught her eye.

Too late.

Thunk! Thunk!

Throwing knives clanged against her barrier, not bouncing harmlessly but sticking in instead of falling away.

Elaister blinked. “How sneaky, Caramel, but-”

A second volley struck. Blades slammed into the ones already stuck, the force driving them through the weakened barrier.

Thunk! Stab!

One ricocheted off her mask, another buried into the flesh of her still organic right shoulder.

“GHK-!”

Elaister staggered, clutching her shoulder. Pain shot through her arm, white‑hot and immediate. She barely had a breath to curse before-

"[Charge]!"

BRAK!

Serah was on her. The knight’s shield smashed into her side, a wall of iron and momentum. Elaister went flying, tumbling across the dirt, coughing from the impact.

Elaister were about to dash away with her ExplosiveToh, but suddenly her vision spun.

“What the…? Was there a poison in-”

Above, the light shifted.

She looked up.

Dozens of blue missiles swirled into a constellation above, each one humming with lethal intent, their glow painting the clearing in sapphire light.

Elira’s staff glowed brighter than the sun. She raised her chin, lips curling in triumph.

“Checkmate.”

“…You’re shitting me.”

The sky rained blues.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

つづく