We were out of the Dungeon and back in the forest. Spread out before me was the sight of three men sitting in formal seiza on the dirt.
Shiki had a placard hanging from his neck that read: I am the catalyst. Ouma’s sign read: I incited him. Finally, there was Shibaru. He didn't look even remotely sorry, yet he sat there with a tag that said: I’m the one who went on a rampage.
"So..." I started, looking them over. "Any excuses?"
『It’s his fault!』 they shouted in unison, fingers pointing at one another.
"...Right. That’s another ten minutes added to the lecture."
I’d already given them an earful, so I’d been prepared to listen if they had something valid to say, but that perfectly synchronized deflection killed any lingering sympathy. I decided to finish grilling them before Kaiser got back.
"Let me just confirm the facts. This started as a contest to see who could kill the most? And it turned into... that because Shibaru joined in?"
"Precisely," Shibaru replied. "These fools started bickering, so I settled the matter by giving their dispute a proper form."
"That’s helpful, I guess. But was the full beastification really necessary?"
"One is a holder of Indra's Original, and the other is your best friend, Reima. They deserved a corresponding level of effort."
I was glad he held them in such high regard, but considering nearly every demonic insect in that cave had been annihilated or chased into nonexistence, I couldn't exactly celebrate. I didn't care much about the common loot—if we got some, great—but most of the rare materials we could have harvested were likely scattered in microscopic pieces.
"...Are the boss materials at least intact?" I asked.
"Well, yes. Since it was a cave-type, the Voice of the World just handed the materials over... right?"
"If you say so. But remember how bewildered it sounded? I know this is technically the second time, but that’s not the kind of thing that should be happening on the regular."
Right before we left the Dungeon, the Voice of the World had chimed in. It sounded... exhausted.
【The Forest of Demonic Insects has been... cleared. Please... give us about a month for restoration. Just go home.】
It was supposed to be an inorganic, mechanical voice, yet I could have sworn I heard a hint of murderous intent shimmering beneath the surface. It had the tone of a retail worker on their third day of a triple shift. I actually felt a pang of sympathy for the Dungeon—a rare sentiment, to be sure. It had even sealed the entrance behind us to make absolutely certain we couldn't get back in.
I was genuinely at a loss for how to report this. Saaya-san had already chewed me out over the report I submitted after I froze a floor with [Dainsleif].
"...Hey, Carnage," Shiki whispered. "I want to run away."
"Me too, brat," Ouma replied.
"Alright, on the count of three, we scatter. You be the decoy."
"Are you actual trash? You do it."
"If you two want to taste the harisen again, just keep talking," I interjected. "I’ve still got it ready."
"...Hey, best friend," Shiki said, his voice trembling. "What is that paper fan, seriously? It hurt like hell."
"This? Just an other-world-produced harisen."
It was a dedicated "straight-man" comedy tool I’d made early in my travels. It had been with me for two and a half years. At this point, it wasn't an exaggeration to call it a divine artifact; it had evolved to the point where it literally manifested the concept of a bump on the victim's head. It even had a speed buff, making it fast enough to catch even Shakra.
It was basically a specialized anti-Shakra weapon. Seeing the two of them shudder the moment I brandished it made me appreciate its terrifying performance all over once more.
"A pain I’ve never known... is flashing through my mind," Ouma muttered.
"Shakra used to get hit by it constantly," I said. "That’s probably what you’re feeling."
Shakra was a natural-born fool, so the opportunities for a well-timed retort were endless. I tucked the fan away and decided to get to the heart of the matter.
"So... something happened back there, didn't it? Are you guys actually okay?"
"...We just competed, Reima. Nothing more," Ouma said.
"Is that the truth, Shibaru?"
"Yes. These two simply got worked up. They were being incredibly loud, so I judged it best to intervene and mediate."
"I don't love the result, but... fine. As long as it wasn't anything serious."
I didn't know the full truth. But if Shibaru, whom I’d appointed as the monitor, said it was fine, I was willing to take his word for it.
"Well, Kaiser will be back soon, so let’s wrap this up."
"Now that you mention it, where’s Goro?" Shiki asked.
"Shopping. He went with Baal to buy meat and fish."
"...Why?"
"Because the best way to move past a fight is a good meal."
It was a bit of a brute-force solution to friendship, but there was no better way to bond than over food. Besides, it was summer; a barbecue sounded like fun. My best friend gave me a look of pure exasperation, but just as I thought the shopping duo was taking too long, they appeared.
"Fuhahahaha! Reima! I have obtained magnificent meat at a pittance!"
"Master! They were selling Dungeon-harvested salmon and other fish, so I bought plenty!"
The two of them returned with enough meat and fish to feed a small army, their faces beaming with joy. They seemed genuinely excited to get cooking. They bought way too much, I thought. There’s no way we can finish this ourselves. I decided I’d need to call in some professional eaters, though I’d have to keep them on a short leash.
"[Dual Summon]: Diabel Satan, Belphe Phoenix."
If I had to pick members of my crew who loved a good banquet, it was these two. One was the Demon of Wrath who usually stayed holed up in the depths of my Soul World, and the other was the Slothful Phoenix who spent her days slumbering inside a volcano. Despite their titles, they both loved a good racket.
Belphe appeared holding a knife and fork.
"It’s been a while. It’s rare for you to Summon me, Reima."
She was a sleepy-eyed woman with hair the color of the dawn sky. She was wearing a baggy T-shirt with "phoenix" written across it in simple hiragana. She looked utterly unmotivated. While I processed her questionable fashion choices, I looked toward the other.
There stood a man with dragon horns and messy black hair. He wore a leather jacket over a T-shirt that said "scary demon."
"Contractor... can I go back and grab some booze? I just woke up and forgot it."
"That's the first thing out of your mouth? Well, Ouma is here, so I might actually need you to."
"Right. I’ll go grab some Nectar or something."
"No. Stop. Do not do that. I’m not joking—do not bring that here."
Nectar was a divine substance that could grant immortality or instant recovery. It was a type of mead that I kept under maximum security within my soul. It was typical of Diabel to want to indulge his own pleasures, but I really needed him to stand down. I assumed he was joking, so I waited for his next suggestion.
"How about Haoma, then? Azi should have some in storage."
"...Rejected. That’ll just start a fight with him. You know how much he treasures his stash."
"Then shall we extort some Soma from the Indian Faction? If we bring Mammon along, it should be easy enough. Besides, we have a holder of Indra's Original here; it’s only appropriate."
"...Good point. Who’s managing the supply right now?"
"Vritra."
"Is there even any left, then?"
Vritra was an unparalleled alcoholic. If he found out we were serving it to Ouma, he’d likely chug the entire supply on the spot just to be spiteful and then claim they were out.
"I’ll handle the alcohol," Shiki interjected. "I know a good shop. Hey, Diabel, was it? You can trust me on this."
"I see. If you say so, I shall believe you. I used to be drinking buddies with Shakra, after all."
"Hey, Reimaaa," Belphe whined, "I’m hungry, but let’s take a nap first. I’m tiiiired."
"You haven't even done anything yet. Anyway, let’s Teleport back to the house."
Holding a barbecue in the middle of a forest was a massive fire hazard. We all headed back to my place, where the small army of us settled into the garden to begin the feast.