Somewhere in the town of Gimul, a certain tavern remained busy despite a "Closed" sign hanging on the door.
That night, nine men visited the establishment. They arrived in groups of three. One man from each trio took a seat at a large central table, while the other two from each group stood in reserve at the tables behind them. With the representatives gathered, a menacing tension filled the air.
"Wands... explain yourself. What the hell happened?"
"Yeah. Is our silver-tongued fraudster finally out of excuses?"
"You demand an explanation... and I will admit that our work is not progressing as planned," Wands replied. He was the man who had previously formed the Gimul Medium-sized Store Association and engaged in a heated verbal battle with Ryoma during their public meeting. "However, it seems the same could be said for your own operations, could it not?"
"What did you say?!"
The first representative raised his voice at Wands’s provocative response, while the second clicked his tongue in displeasure. Their companions tensed, hands drifting toward their weapons.
However, the man who had clicked his tongue intervened. "Drop it. There's no point in us bickering here."
"I agree," Wands said smoothly. "On my end, everything was proceeding perfectly according to plan—at least until I gathered the merchants to launch the association..."
"Oh? And what happened to 'perfectly'?" the first man prompted, his tone still combative.
"Yes, yes, it was going perfectly. I had conducted thorough research, brought several people over to our side in advance, and I held the discussion in the palm of my hand... until that shitty brat had to go and stir everything up."
The other representatives recoiled slightly. Wands’s face was hollow, and his words sounded less like a complaint and more like a dark curse.
"I expected as much," the second man said. "Ryoma Takebayashi is indeed the problem. My side is having trouble with that boy too. I went through the trouble of having my subordinates pose as job seekers to pick fights all over town, hoping to make the public look at migrants with a harsh eye..."
"We're in the same boat," the first representative added. "We tried to entice people into turning to crime by exploiting their financial hardships, but as soon as they heard that kid was hiring hundreds of people, they found a glimmer of hope. Their resistance grew. He actually hired hundreds of them, and apparently, there’s another recruitment drive coming. Just how much money does he have? Does a laundry shop really make that much profit?"
"Heh... Heheheh. No, I doubt that’s it," Wands sneered. "If you look at his recruitment conditions, the treatment is exceptional—not just the wages, but housing, meals, and even medical care for injuries and illnesses. That shop is flourishing, yes, but that alone could never cover his overhead. We aren’t the only ones curious about his funding. A rumor is spreading that he inherited a fortune from his grandparents. But for him to have been hiding such a windfall until now is far too convenient. Even if it were true, no sane person would scatter it around like this. Such a man would be either a true saint or a complete fool who doesn't understand the value of money.
"Given the circumstances, he’s clearly moving to crush our objectives. There is no doubt he is acting on instructions and funding from the Ducal House. That shi... that boy is merely a decoy and a puppet. Though, he might be clever enough for his age to play the role convincingly."
Wands seemed to have calmed down as he spoke, regaining his usual composure. The other two nodded.
"That seems far more natural than thinking a brat came up with all this on his own. The Duke’s men are likely watching him... but putting that aside, what’s our next move? I hear his security company is starting patrols. Won't that make things difficult for you 'Thief Group' types?"
"It’s already becoming difficult," the thief representative growled. "That security company issued a warning through the guild. They were thorough—exposing our targets and even some of our methods. It seems they have someone over there who knows exactly how we operate."
"I see," the second man added. "To be honest, several empty houses in the slums that we’d eyed as hideouts for our land sharking operations have been demolished. Not just that, but the overall visibility of the slum district is improving under the guise of 'redevelopment.'"
"So it’s affecting the land sharks too. In that case, 'fraudster,' can you leak the info yet? If we knew the patrol schedules and routes, we could target shops when they're vulnerable or ambush the patrollers and rough them up. We agreed to cooperate so that everyone's job would be easier, right?"
"Regrettably, I haven't won over enough shop owners yet," Wands admitted. "Some became suspicious after that exchange with the boy, so it’s a struggle just to keep my group together. For a while, I must play the part of the trustworthy merchant."
Silence fell over the tavern, eventually broken by Wands.
"For now, let us each continue our sabotage. We have the backing of nobles as well. More desperate job seekers will be sent our way for the foreseeable future. There is no shortage of unnecessary people left without work."
"That's all we can do," the land shark agreed. "We're doing this under contract; we don't have the option to quit. For people of the underworld like us, abandoning a job is a death sentence. Even if our lives were spared, we'd have nowhere to go."
"He's right. It’s harder to move, but we haven't run out of options yet."
The men’s expressions remained grim, filled with a mounting sense of crisis.
Meanwhile, at the security company headquarters, the working day had ended. Most of the employees had returned to the dormitory, but four guards dispatched from the Ducal House, three maids, Mafrar the physician, and Serge Morgan—who had happened to be visiting—were gathered in a private room.
"Alright, good work today, everyone! Cheers!" Hughes shouted.
"Cheers!" the group echoed.
They raised their cups, but the ever-serious Jill looked at Hughes with a frown. "Hughes, is this really the right place for a formal report?"
"Don't be so stiff, Jill. Even if we call it a report, everything is going according to plan so far, despite the hiccups. This is just a routine check. It’s fine to do it over drinks. Besides, we’re the ones telling Ryoma not to overthink things; it wouldn't be very persuasive if the adults were all wound tight, would it?"
"I suppose so, but..."
"More importantly, Master Serge dropped in unexpectedly, and you're making him uncomfortable with that face."
"Master Serge, my apologies... Wait, Hughes, you’re the one who dragged him here!" Jill snapped. "I'm sorry for my colleague's behavior, Master Serge."
"Not at all," Serge replied with a polite smile. "Master Hughes invited me so that my trip wouldn't be in vain."
"If you say so," Jill muttered.
Once they settled in, Camille turned to Serge with curiosity. "By the way, Serge-san, what brings you here?"
"A magic tool craftsman I'm close with asked me to deliver something to Ryoma-sama. I also wanted to consult him about some production issues at the factory, so I thought the timing was perfect, but..."
"They just missed each other," Hughes explained. "Ryoma’s been coming home quite early lately."
"Come to think of it, he’s been finishing work early ever since he started keeping those Goblins," Camille noted.
"It’s only natural," Lulunese added. "He contracted new tamed monsters, so he needs to bond with them. Tamed monsters are living creatures, after all. I’ve heard that until they adjust to a new environment, they can be prone to acting out or falling ill."
"Even without those reasons, Ryoma is a chronic overworker," Hughes said. "I'm all for him coming home early."
Everyone present nodded in agreement. Once the atmosphere relaxed, Lilian spoke up.
"Master Serge, you mentioned a consultation... Is there a problem at the factory? If it’s urgent, I can send my tamed monster to contact him."
"Thank you, but it's nothing that urgent. I just wanted to discuss future production plans and several items Ryoma-sama had ordered."
"If there’s no problem, that’s fine. But the main product is still waterproof cloth, isn't it? Is he making something new?"
"Yes. While the factory’s mainstay will be waterproof cloth production, he’s given me several ideas for new products utilizing slimes. To change the subject slightly, I believe you all know that my shop was partially burned down recently?"
The group nodded solemnly.
"Actually, Ryoma-sama was quite worried about that. He’s been pouring out ideas for fire prevention measures, fire extinguishing equipment, rescue methods for people trapped in buildings, and even special equipment for that purpose. It was like water gushing from a spring. He came up with them right there in conversation. Each idea is worth considering, so I'm planning to create prototypes and potentially commercialize them."
"That explains the new training content," Jill added. "Right now we're focusing on basic physical training and discipline, but Ryoma proposed including rescue training later. He even suggested medical training for volunteers."
"He must have been really shaken by the fire at Serge-san’s shop," Zeff said. "The Young Master cares deeply about others, and he’s always the first to take action. That’s why I can't leave him to his own devices. It makes me want to help out."
Agreement rippled through the room. Suddenly, Hughes tilted his head.
"What is it, Hughes?" Lulunese asked.
"Lulunese... it’s a bit late to say this, but Ryoma’s doing really well in this town, isn't he?"
"Yes. That’s why he’s able to realize his plans by enlisting the help of so many people."
"Right? And he has a massive circle of acquaintances. Isn't that right, Jill?"
"Let's see," Jill counted. "There are the adventurers helping with security, the three guild masters, the top official at the town office, and the overseer of the slum district. Then there are major merchants like Serge-san and various influential figures."
"He knows a lot of locals too," Camille added. "There are the shop owners he’s met recently, the kids from the slums working at the processing plant, and he’s on great terms with the chapel because of his donations."
"I haven't known him for long," Libiola put in, "but he is very considerate. Though his sensibilities are unique and his common sense is a bit skewed at times."
"Yeah..." Hughes nodded, looking thoughtful.
Jill looked at him with concern. "What’s wrong, Hughes? It’s not like you to brood. Are you feeling sick?"
"No, I was just thinking. He’s changed so much since we first met him. Remember? Ryoma was a complete shut-in in the forest."
"That's true. He's integrated so well into town life that I'd forgotten," Jill admitted.
"Right? When I look at how he handles people lately... well, he always says he’s 'bad with people,' but I'm starting to think that’s just a lie he tells himself."
Mafrar, who had been listening quietly, spoke up. "I don't think he’s bad at socializing at all. He was incredibly considerate to my team when we arrived. And during the planning stages, didn't he assign tasks to everyone with total confidence and spend his spare time laying the groundwork?"
The participants thought back over the last few weeks.
"...I was too busy to notice, but he was doing it all naturally without being told," Camille murmured.
"Indeed. It’s hard to believe Ryoma thinks he's bad at it," Jill agreed.
"He likely just has a lingering sense of inadequacy," Serge suggested. "He has a very low self-evaluation and a tendency to downplay the burden he takes on himself."
"Ah... I see. You might be right, Serge-san," Hughes said, sounding relieved. "Ryoma tends to do everything himself, but maybe it's not that he can't rely on people, he just doesn't realize how much people want to be relied on by him."
Hughes downed his drink, his mood visibly lifted.
At that same moment, in the Divine Realm...
"Hmph. It seems there are no problems," Gain remarked.
"Yeah. The group acting in the shadows of Gimul hasn't given up, but Ryoma-kun has allies now. The town is much calmer than before," Kufo added.
"What is Ryoma-kun doing right now, I wonder?" Lulutia asked.
"He just finished feeding the Goblins and the slimes, and now he's making dinner for himself," Kufo replied. "He seems to be experimenting with preserved foods at the same time."
"He's properly started studying agriculture, just like I taught him," Grimp said proudly. "He's only just learned the fundamentals, but he's definitely improving the quality of his crops."
"He’s even started brewing local sake from the Fatma Territory," Tekun added. "He's cultivating the ingredients himself. Having the Goblins as laborers must have freed up his time. Living in the abandoned mine was a good call—it's a perfect place to age sake. Knowing Ryoma’s nature, I have high expectations for the quality."
The gods were gathered, leisurely sharing information while enjoying their preferred beverages. Suddenly, two more figures appeared from the void.
"Good work," Kiriluel said.
"Kiriluel. Is the duty over?" Gain asked.
"Not yet, but the punishment is temporarily suspended. Because this guy’s in this state. Hup!"
With a grunt, the Goddess of War tossed down the god she was carrying: Seerelipta. The God of Water hit the floor with a groan, his body refusing to move.
"Y-You could have been... a bit more gentle..." Seerelipta wheezed.
"Don't be stupid," Kiriluel snapped. "Your punishment isn't over. I only stopped because there's no point in punishing you while you're unresponsive. Be grateful for the break."
Seerelipta tried to argue in a faint voice but was instantly shut down. Kiriluel looked around. "Where's Fernobelia? He didn't show up for the watch change."
"He left without a word?" Gain asked.
"He went back to his domain," Tekun explained. "He looked unusually flustered."
"Why the sudden rush?"
"Ryoma-kun started combining magic with slimes," Kufo said. "The magic and the slime biology meshed so perfectly it hit a system loophole. The synergistic effect was incredible."
"He said he was going to 'investigate in detail' and bolted," Lulutia added. "He’s a serious boy when it comes to magic."
"Hmm. Whatever," Kiriluel said, then turned to Gain. "So, what's the report here?"
"Everything is fine. It seems Seerelipta hasn't been interfering with the mortal realm," Gain confirmed.
The God of Water spoke up from the floor. "Wait... you were actually doubting me?"
"You gave Ryoma-kun that prophecy," Gain replied. "We were just making sure you hadn't set anything else in motion."
"Even I wouldn't go that far... I just told him what I thought would happen based on the state of the town," Seerelipta insisted.
"Your reputation is why you're being doubted," Wilieris pointed out coldly.
"Yes, yes, I get it... Anyway, how is Ryoma-kun doing?"
Gain held his hand over Seerelipta’s head, sharing the recent observations.
"Ah... I see. So it turned out like this," Seerelipta murmured.
"You expected it, then? Is he dancing in the palm of your hand?" Wilieris asked suspiciously.
"I'm just saying this would have happened even if I'd said nothing," Seerelipta replied. "The town was already becoming unruly. He would have found out as soon as he returned, and he would have seen Serge’s burned shop. Serge was the one who told him about the nobles acting in the shadows, not me.
"Knowing Ryoma, he’d obviously prepare for the worst. Using criminals to ravage a territory and damage a lord’s reputation is essentially a declaration of war. Reinhardt wants to avoid conflict, but humans have no way of knowing if that will succeed. Preparing is the only logical choice. He just happened to be very fast about it."
"Your manner of speaking as if you see through everything is still suspicious," Wilieris said.
"Maybe you're just not thinking hard enough, Wilieris?" Seerelipta teased.
"Stop it, you two," Lulutia sighed.
"Honestly, they can't be in the same room for five minutes... and Seerelipta can't even move, yet he’s still running his mouth," Tekun muttered.
"Let's change the subject," Kiriluel interjected. "Ryoma’s preparations... you could look at them as war preparations. This situation between the nobles could easily spark a conflict. Even if the Duke wants peace, there's no guarantee.
"If war breaks out, Ryoma’s security company would provide a massive boost in trained manpower and logistical support. His research into preserved foods is basically army rations, and his medical advancements are essential for the field. They might be a ragtag bunch compared to professional mercenaries, but they’d be perfect for rear-line support. In war, you use whoever you can. If there's no war, they just keep the town safe. It's a win-win."
Kiriluel grinned at the images of Ryoma’s work.
"Well, it is Ryoma-kun, after all," Seerelipta said.
"You're acting like you already knew again," Wilieris noted.
"It was obvious," Seerelipta replied. "Ryoma-kun has the talents forced upon him by the God of Earth. Talents for murder and crime."
"Ah... those," Lulutia murmured.
"The God of Earth is ancient and high-ranking, even if he's a degenerate," Seerelipta continued. "Those talents act as a sort of pseudo-intuition. Ryoma can sense malice and predict how criminals will move. His past life experience helps, too. If he hones it, it might turn into a proper 'Intuition' skill. And while those talents sound dark, talent is just a tool. It makes a job easier, but it doesn't define the person. Humans aren't decided by talent alone."
The gods nodded in agreement.
"He's right," Wilieris admitted. "Talent for crime can be used to protect people. Ryoma-kun has been proving that unconsciously."
"His low self-evaluation also plays a role," Gain added. "Ryoma-kun has no natural talent for communication. None at all. But he spent thirty-nine years on Earth trying his hardest to get along with people. He's continuing that effort here. That's why he's surrounded by allies who want to lend him their strength."
"To be fair," Seerelipta added, "his social failures on Earth were mostly the God of Earth’s fault. I've looked at that world—half of Ryoma's coworkers weren't even capable of a decent conversation."
"I'd definitely have none of that," Kiriluel said. "I'd have punched them within an hour."
"If he had the patience to deal with them for decades, it’s no wonder he’s more capable than he thinks," Grimp added.
"I agree," Seerelipta said. "He was hopeless as a child, so that sense of inadequacy is deep-seated. It’s a lifetime’s worth of conviction; it won't vanish overnight. But he’s still in his teens here, and we’re gods. We have plenty of time to watch him grow."
A peaceful air settled over the group, but it was short-lived.
"Seerelipta... you've fully recovered, haven't you?" Kiriluel’s voice was sharp.
"Eh? What are you talking about? I still can't mov—"
"Your bad habit is getting carried away the moment you feel better. You've been talking a mile a minute. I can tell by your voice. If you're that energetic, it's time for more punishment."
"Wait! I can walk! Don't carry me—!"
"Don't be silly. I'll carry you just like before."
Kiriluel hauled him up and began dragging him back toward his discipline.
"Good grief, they're noisy," Gain sighed.
The remaining gods laughed and turned their gaze back to the mortal realm.