The stone corridor stretched endlessly before Kenji, lit only by the occasional flickering torch that cast dancing shadows on the damp walls. Water dripped somewhere in the distance with the steady rhythm of a funeral march. His footsteps echoed like the hollow beats of a broken heart.
For exactly three minutes, Kenji Tanaka allowed himself to feel the crushing weight of betrayal. He slumped against the cold stone wall, his ordinary brown hair hanging limply over his ordinary brown eyes, his ordinary school uniform wrinkled and dirty from the fall.
"They threw me away," he whispered to the darkness. "Like I was nothing. Like I was trash."
A rat scurried past his feet, pausing to look at him with what might have been pity before continuing on its way. Even the rats felt sorry for him.
But then, something deep within Kenji's soul began to stir. A fire that had been dormant his entire mundane life suddenly roared to life, burning away the last vestiges of his naive trust in humanity.
"You know what?" he said to the empty stone corridor, his voice echoing ominously. "Screw those guys. Screw their stupid polyamorous hero harem. Screw their legendary equipment. I'm going to become so powerful that they'll regret the day they were born."
The words hung in the air like a curse, and somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled even though they were underground.
Kenji pushed himself off the wall and began walking deeper into the dungeon, his steps now purposeful and heavy with dark intent.
"They looked at me," he continued, his voice growing stronger and more bitter with each word, "and they saw weakness. They saw someone expendable. Someone who didn't deserve to stand beside them in their glorious quest."
He paused at a junction in the corridor, his hands clenching into fists. "But what they didn't see... what they couldn't see... was the darkness that sleeps within every human heart. The beast that civilization chains down with its pretty lies about friendship and loyalty."
A spider dropped from the ceiling, landing on his shoulder. Instead of brushing it off, Kenji stared at it with newfound kinship.
"You understand, don't you?" he whispered to the spider. "You know what it's like to be feared, to be cast out, to be seen as nothing but a monster." The spider seemed to nod before scuttling away into the shadows.
Kenji continued walking, his monologue growing more elaborate with each step. "They gave me a skill they deemed worthless. 'Minor Environmental Adjustment.' They laughed at it. They laughed at me." His voice cracked with emotion. "But when I'm done, they won't."
He stopped in front of a particularly intimidating shadow and addressed it directly. "I was their classmate. I shared lunch with them. I helped Yamada with his homework. I listened to Sakura complain about her dating life. And when the moment came for them to choose between comfort and loyalty... they chose comfort."
The shadow, being a shadow, did not respond. But Kenji nodded as if it had offered sage wisdom.
"Yes," he said gravely. "You're right. Trust is the luxury of the naive. And I... I am naive no more."
As if summoned by his dramatic proclamations, a low growling echoed from the darkness ahead. Kenji's newly hardened heart skipped a beat as a creature emerged from the shadows—a Dungeon Slime, Level 2, the tutorial monster of tutorial monsters.
It was about the size of a large dog, translucent blue, and wobbling with what could only be described as aggressive intent. Its single eye fixed on Kenji with predatory focus.
"So," Kenji said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "you would challenge me? You sense the darkness awakening within my soul and you seek to test it?"
The slime made a sound like "blorp" and jiggled menacingly.
Kenji spread his arms wide in a gesture of dark acceptance. "Very well. Let this be the first blood spilled in the name of my transformation. Let your defeat mark the beginning of my journey into the abyss."
The moment the slime's pseudopod descended toward him, time seemed to slow to a crawl. His enhanced perception, sharpened by his transformation into darkness, allowed him to see every droplet of moisture beading on the creature's surface, every subtle shift in its gelatinous form.
This was it. This was the moment that would define him as a warrior.
With reflexes that would have made professional fighters weep with envy, Kenji rolled aside at the last possible second. The slime's attack struck the stone where his head had been moments before, sending chips of ancient rock flying like shrapnel. In his mind, the impact created a crater six inches deep.
"Too slow!" he snarled, his voice echoing with newfound power as he sprang to his feet in one fluid motion. His hair whipped dramatically in the nonexistent wind as he assumed a battle stance he was certain he'd learned from watching martial arts movies.
The slime turned to face him, its single eye now blazing with what Kenji interpreted as respect for a worthy opponent. It contracted and expanded, clearly preparing for its most devastating attack—a technique passed down through generations of dungeon slimes, meant only for the most dangerous of foes.
Kenji could sense the creature's power building, could feel the very air crackling with tension. This was no ordinary slime. This was a veteran of countless battles, a creature that had survived in these depths through cunning and skill that bordered on the supernatural.
"I see you for what you truly are," Kenji whispered, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed his opponent's fighting style. "You're not just any slime. You're the Guardian of the First Level. The strongest slime."
The slime's next movement was a blur of liquid death. It launched itself forward with the speed of a striking cobra, its form stretching and contorting as it executed what had to be its signature killing technique. Kenji barely had time to react, throwing himself sideways in a desperate dodge that left him skidding across the rough stone floor.
But even as he slid, his tactical mind was working. The creature's attack pattern was becoming clear. It favored overwhelming force over finesse, relying on its natural resilience to tank damage while it wore down its opponents. A straightforward approach that had probably claimed dozens of would-be heroes.
Kenji came to his feet running, using his momentum to circle around the creature. The slime pivoted to track him, its eye following his movement with the focused intensity of a predator that had found prey worthy of its full attention.
"You want to see what despair can do?" Kenji growled, drawing on reserves of strength he didn't know he possessed. "Let me show you the power of someone who has nothing left to lose!"
He feinted left, then dove right, his hands reaching for the creature's core. This was a risky maneuver—if he miscalculated, the slime's acidic body would dissolve his flesh in seconds. But risk was all he had left.
His fingers made contact with the creature's surface, and for a moment, time stood perfectly still. Two warriors, locked in mortal combat, each pushing themselves beyond their natural limits. The slime's body rippled with power as it tried to engulf his arms, while Kenji's own mysterious abilities began to manifest in ways he was only beginning to understand.
The battle raged for what felt like hours. Kenji rolled, dodged, struck, and retreated in a deadly dance with his gelatinous opponent. His school uniform became torn and dirty, battle damage that only added to his intimidating appearance. Every near-miss, every close call only served to fuel the darkness growing within him.
Finally, after an exchange of techniques that would have left seasoned adventurers speechless with awe, Kenji found his opening. The slime, exhausted from their prolonged combat, left its core exposed for just a fraction of a second. It was all the opening a true warrior needed.
He lunged forward with a dramatic battle cry, fist raised high—and immediately tripped over his own feet, crashing face-first into the stone floor.
The slime blorped in what might have been confusion.
Kenji scrambled to his feet, spitting out dust and trying to maintain his intimidating aura.
He tried again, this time attempting some kind of martial arts move he'd seen in anime. His foot sailed harmlessly through the slime's gelatinous body, throwing him off balance. He windmilled his arms desperately before falling backward into a puddle.
The slime approached slowly, as if it was starting to feel bad about the whole situation.
"This is it," Kenji gasped, staring up at the ceiling. "This is how I die. "I'm actually gonna die down here. Killed by a freaking slime. Man, this thing's way stronger than it looks. The darkness calls to me, but I'm too pathetic to answer."
The slime loomed over him, its single eye somehow managing to look apologetic. It raised what might have been a pseudopod, preparing to deliver the world's gentlest finishing blow.
The slime approached Kenji as he lay on the ground, but its movement could be charitably described as "cautious shuffling." It moved with all the deadly speed of cold honey, taking nearly thirty seconds to traverse the six feet between them.
When it finally reached him, the slime did not launch into a devastating attack. Instead, it gently nudged Kenji's arm with what might have been curiosity. The touch was cool and slightly damp, roughly equivalent to being poked by a wet sponge.
Kenji, however, immediately assumed this was his death blow.
"Oh god," he gasped, staring at the ceiling with eyes wide with terror and acceptance. "This is it. This is how I die. Alone in a dungeon, killed by the strongest monster in existence."
The slime, seemingly encouraged by his lack of resistance, settled itself more comfortably next to him. It made soft blorp sounds that, if one were being generous, might have been interpreted as companionable.
But Kenji heard only the approach of death.
"Mom," he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'm sorry I never cleaned my room like you asked. I'm sorry I ate your leftover cake that one time and blamed it on Dad. I should have told you I loved you more."
The slime blorped sympathetically.
"Dad," Kenji continued, tears beginning to stream down his face. "I'm sorry I never got good grades. I'm sorry I spent all that money on mobile game gacha pulls. I know you worked extra shifts to pay for my school supplies, and I never appreciated it enough."
A small pseudopod extended from the slime, patting his shoulder in what was clearly meant to be comforting. Kenji interpreted this as the creature toying with him before the final strike.
"Yamada," he sobbed, "even though you betrayed me, we had good times, didn't we? Remember when we stayed up all night playing video games and your mom made us those sandwiches? She was always so nice to me. I forgive you, man...because your mom is hot."
The slime had now positioned itself more or less on top of his chest, its weight roughly equivalent to a large cat. It seemed to be settling in for a nap.
"And to the girl I was supposed to meet someday," Kenji whispered, his voice growing weaker as he prepared for the end. "The one who would understand me, who would see past my awkwardness and maybe even think I was kind of funny sometimes. I'm sorry we'll never get to have our first date. I'm sorry I'll never get to hold your hand or buy you flowers or meet your parents."
He closed his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "I had so many dreams. I wanted to learn how to cook something other than instant ramen. I wanted to get better at talking to people. I wanted to maybe write a novel someday, even if it was terrible."
The slime had begun to vibrate gently, a sound like a contented purr.
"I'm sorry, world," Kenji breathed, his voice barely audible now. "I'm sorry I wasn't stronger. I'm sorry I wasn't the hero you needed. Maybe... maybe someone better will come along after me."
And then something inside Kenji snapped.