The stone corridor stretched ahead of Kenji, dimly lit by torches that probably hadn't been changed in forever. Water dripped somewhere—honestly, it was kind of annoying. His sneakers squeaked against the damp floor with each step.
Kenji slumped against the wall and gave himself exactly three minutes to feel sorry for himself. His hair was a mess, his school uniform was dirty from when he'd tripped earlier, and his glasses were slightly crooked.
"They just... left me," he muttered, adjusting his glasses. "Didn't even look back."
A rat scurried past. Kenji watched it go and sighed. "Great. Even the rats have somewhere better to be."
But then something shifted in his chest—not some mystical awakening, just the familiar burn of embarrassment turning into anger. The same feeling he got when kids at school pretended not to hear him trying to join conversations.
"You know what?" he said to the empty corridor, his voice cracking slightly on the higher notes. "Forget those guys. Forget their stupid... their whole thing with Sakura-chan and whoever else. I don't need them."
He pushed off the wall and started walking deeper into the dungeon, trying to make his footsteps sound more confident than he felt.
"They looked at me," he continued, his voice getting a bit stronger, "and they saw... well, okay, they probably saw exactly what I am. But that doesn't mean—" He paused, clearing his throat and dropping his voice to what he thought sounded more intimidating. "What they failed to perceive was the dormant power that lies within this vessel."
A spider dropped from the ceiling onto his shoulder. Kenji yelped and frantically brushed it off, then immediately felt bad about it.
"Sorry, spider-sama," he whispered. "We're both just trying to survive down here, right?"
He kept walking, warming up to his internal monologue again. "They gave me 'Minor Environmental Adjustment' and laughed. But jokes on them—I bet this skill is actually super rare and powerful, and they're too stupid to realize it. That's how it always works in manga."
He stopped and addressed a particularly dark corner. "Yeah, I was nice to them. I shared my lunch with Yamada even when Mom didn't pack enough. I listened to Sakura complain about her dating drama for hours." His voice got a bit higher and more strained. "And when it mattered, they just... they didn't even think about me."
The shadow didn't respond, obviously, but Kenji nodded anyway.
"Exactly. Trust is for protagonists with plot armor. And I..." He paused, trying to think of something cool to say. "I need to level up my cynicism stat."
A low growling sound came from ahead. Kenji's heart immediately started pounding, but he tried to play it cool.
A slime emerged from the shadows—basically a big blue jello blob with one eye. It was wobbling in his direction, which was either threatening or just how slimes moved. Probably just how they moved.
"So," Kenji said, his voice shaking only a little, "you dare to challenge the awakening darkness within my—"
The slime made a "blorp" sound.
"...okay, yeah, you're just a slime. But still!" He pointed dramatically at it. "This is my villain origin story! Your defeat will mark the beginning of my journey into—"
The slime's pseudopod swung toward him with all the speed of a lazy windshield wiper. Kenji threw himself to the side anyway, because better safe than sorry.
"Too slow!" he declared, scrambling to his feet. His hair was now sticking up at weird angles, which he told himself looked intimidating rather than like he'd been electrocuted.
The slime turned to face him again. Its single eye seemed... bored? Could slimes be bored?
"I can see your true power," Kenji announced, trying to sound ominous. "You're not just any slime. You're... uh..." He studied it for a moment. It was exactly as unremarkable as every other slime he'd seen in games. "You're clearly the boss of Level One!"
The slime moved toward him again, this time a little faster—maybe walking speed now instead of grandpa-walking-speed.
Kenji circled around it, trying to look tactical. In his head, this was an intense battle of wits and reflexes. In reality, he was basically playing a very slow game of tag with animated jello.
"Behold!" he shouted, making what he hoped looked like a martial arts pose. "The forbidden technique passed down through my bloodline!"
He lunged forward, aiming for what he assumed was the slime's weak point, and immediately slipped on the damp floor. His feet went out from under him and he crashed into the stone, scraping his palms.
The slime blorped, sounding almost concerned.
Kenji rolled over, spitting out dust. "That was just... testing your reflexes."
He tried again, this time attempting some kind of kick he'd seen in an anime. His foot went right through the slime's body—which, in hindsight, made perfect sense since it was made of liquid—and he lost his balance, windmilling his arms before falling backward into a puddle.
The slime approached him slowly, its movement somehow conveying awkward sympathy.
"This is it," Kenji panted, staring up at the ceiling. "This is actually how I'm going to die. Killed by a tutorial monster. God, I hope nobody ever finds my browser history."
The slime loomed over him, raising what might have been a pseudopod. Then it very gently poked his arm.
It felt like being touched by a cool, damp washcloth.
Kenji immediately assumed this was some kind of deadly attack.
"Oh no," he gasped. "This is it. I'm dying. Alone in a dungeon, killed by what's probably the strongest slime in existence."
The slime, seeming to realize he wasn't going to fight back, settled down next to him with a contented blorp.
"Mom," Kenji whispered, his voice cracking with genuine emotion now. "I'm sorry I never did the dishes without being asked three times. And I'm sorry about that time I used your expensive shampoo because mine ran out."
The slime made soft, sympathetic sounds.
"Dad, I'm sorry I never got good at anything you could brag about to your coworkers. I know you wanted me to play sports or get good grades or... literally anything."
A small part of the slime patted his shoulder. Kenji interpreted this as the creature savoring his final moments.
"Yamada," he continued, tears starting to form. "Even though you guys left me behind, I... I had fun hanging out with you. Remember when we tried to beat that one boss for six hours straight and your mom kept bringing us snacks? She was really nice...and also hot."
The slime had now settled more or less on his chest, feeling like a weighted blanket made of Jell-O.
"And to whoever might have maybe liked me someday," Kenji whispered, his voice getting smaller. "I'm sorry I was too weird and awkward to ever find out. I always thought maybe in high school, or college, or... somewhere, I'd figure out how to talk to people without saying something embarrassing."
He closed his eyes. "I wanted to get better at stuff. Maybe learn to cook something that wasn't microwaved. Maybe write a story that didn't suck. Maybe just... be someone people didn't forget about."
The slime was vibrating gently now, making a sound like a cat purring.
"I'm sorry I wasn't the protagonist," Kenji breathed. "I really thought... I mean, getting transported to another world, that's supposed to be my thing, right? Weird loner kids like me are supposed to become heroes. But I guess I'm just..."
And then something inside Kenji broke—not dramatically, but the way things break in real life. Quietly, all at once, with the sound of air leaking out of a balloon.