[Editorial Note: At this point in our tale, dear readers, I must inform you that this story has been classified as appropriate for Christian audiences. As such, I, your refined British narrator, shall endeavor to present the following events in the most wholesome and uplifting manner possible. The regular narrator appears to be on a tea break. - Reginald Worthington III, Emergency Narrative Consultant]
(distant chatter from the narrator's lounge: "Jenkins, you left your sandwich in the fridge again—it's growing something purple.")
What transpired next was a most delightful display of spirited enthusiasm! Young Kenji, his eyes gleaming with the fervor of one who had read far too many light novels and believed himself to be the protagonist of his own dark fantasy, embraced his gelatinous companion with such vigor and passion that one might mistake it for something rather more intense.
"Fufufu..." Kenji chuckled darkly, a sound that would have been menacing if it weren't coming from a seventeen-year-old whose voice still occasionally cracked. "Oh, my dear friend! You shall be the first to witness the awakening of my true power!" He wrapped his arms around the slime in what could only be described as the most enthusiastic hug in dungeon history. (He was screaming like a banshee and had blood in his eyes, his delusions of grandeur finally snapping.) "Let us dance together in celebration of our bond!"
The slime, clearly delighted by this unexpected show of affection, began to sparkle and shimmer with what was undoubtedly pure happiness. The dear creature's joyful vibrations filled the corridor with the most melodious sounds! (horrific squelching noises and what might have been screaming if slimes could scream)
"Yes, YES!" Kenji cried, throwing back his head in the manner of every anime villain he'd ever admired, his voice filled with the purest elation as he held his new friend even closer to his heart. (He was literally tearing it apart with his bare hands, his nails having grown sharp from desperation, rage, and edge aura.) "Feel the warmth of human companionship! Let it fill every fiber of your being!"
(more distant chatter: "Anyone know where Narrative Department left the coffee? I swear if Thompson's hoarding it again—" "Oi, keep it down, we've got a live one running!" "Blimey, is he actually—" "Shh! Reggie's trying to work!")
The slime's response was nothing short of miraculous. It began to glow with an ethereal light, clearly overwhelmed by the intensity of Kenji's friendship. Small droplets of what could only be tears of joy began to fall from its form like the gentlest spring rain. (Those were definitely chunks of dissolving slime flesh splattering against the dungeon walls.)
"Behold!" Kenji declared, striking a dramatic pose even as he continued his vigorous display of camaraderie, "Together we shall transcend the boundaries between species! I, who walk the path between light and shadow, shall grant you the ultimate gift!" His eyes shining with the most wholesome of intentions. "Your sacrifice of loneliness shall not be in vain, dear friend!"
And then, in a moment of pure magical transformation, the slime began to dissolve into sparkles of light, clearly ascending to a higher plane of existence through the power of Kenji's extraordinary friendship. (It died horribly, its remains scattered across a ten-foot radius.) Its final sound was what could only be interpreted as a sigh of contentment and gratitude. (It was definitely screaming until the very end.)
"Be at peace, noble companion," Kenji whispered tenderly, licking the slime residue from his fingers with the reverence of a dark ritual, as the last traces of his friend faded away into stardust, leaving behind only its most treasured possessions as gifts of their eternal bond. (He was covered head to toe in slime gore and had gone completely feral, his eyes rolled back and his tongue hanging out.)
[Editorial Note: I... I beg your pardon, but I believe there's been some sort of mistake. This isn't quite the wholesome children's tale I was led to expect. I'm afraid I must tender my resignation effective immediately. This is rather more than I bargained for when I signed up for "Fantasy Adventure Story, Ages 8-12." Good luck with the rest of your tale. Someone please tell Jenkins he can have his shift back. - R. Worthington III]
[*sigh* Right, I'm back. Bloody temp agencies... couldn't handle a little edginess, could he? Right, where were we... ah yes, our delusional protagonist having his little breakdown.]
Kenji stood in the aftermath, breathing heavily and staring at his gore-covered hands with a mixture of horror and exhilaration. The silence of the dungeon pressed against his eardrums like a living thing, broken only by the steady drip, drip, drip of slime essence from the stalactites above.
"What... what have I become?" he whispered, but even as the words left his lips, he felt a surge of dark satisfaction. The rage that had been building since his classmates' betrayal, since years of being overlooked and underestimated, had finally found an outlet. And it felt... good.
He examined his reflection in a puddle of slime residue. His school uniform was torn and stained beyond recognition, his black hair disheveled and wild. But his eyes—his eyes held a new intensity, a predatory gleam that spoke of someone who had crossed a line and found he rather liked the view from the other side.
"No," he corrected himself, his voice taking on the theatrical cadence he'd practiced in front of his bedroom mirror countless times. "I am no longer that pathetic child they discarded like garbage. I have been... reborn."
As he looked down at the items the slime had left behind—a crude leather vest that seemed to pulse with malevolent energy, a rusty dagger that whispered promises of violence, and a hand-drawn map marked with ominous symbols—he felt something click into place in his twisted psyche. This was his transformation. This was his protagonist moment.
The leather vest felt heavy with dark significance as he pulled it over his torn school shirt, the material seeming to merge with his skin in a way that was definitely not normal but felt absolutely right. The rusty dagger, despite its humble appearance, seemed to sing with bloodthirsty potential in his grip, its weight perfectly balanced for someone of his build. And the map... the map showed him the way forward into the depths where he would continue to evolve into something magnificent and terrible.
"I am no longer Tanaka Kenji, the disposable side character," he announced to the empty corridor, his voice carrying a new weight that seemed to make the very stones tremble. "I am something else now. Something... dangerous. Something that will make them all remember my name."
He thought about what to call himself, this new being born from betrayal and baptized in monster blood. Something that would capture his transformation, his willingness—no, his eagerness—to do what was necessary to survive and grow stronger. Something that would strike fear into the hearts of those who had wronged him.
"The Dissolver of Bonds," he whispered, testing the name on his tongue like a fine wine. It felt right. Perfect, even. Dark and mysterious, with just the right amount of philosophical undertone and edge.
Because that's what he did now, wasn't it? He dissolved the bonds that held things together—friendships, loyalty, the natural order that said humans and monsters were separate species, and the naive belief that good always triumphed over evil. He had dissolved his first enemy down to its very essence, absorbed its power, and claimed its treasures. And he would do it again. And again. Until he stood at the apex of this world, looking down at all who had dared to underestimate him.
The Dissolver of Bonds adjusted his new vest with practiced dramatic flair, tucked the map into his pocket with reverent care, and began walking deeper into the dungeon with the confident stride of someone who had finally found their true calling. Behind him, the stone floor still glistened with the remnants of his first victory, and somewhere in the shadows, other creatures felt a strange chill of premonition and began to hide.
In his mind, he could already see it—his triumphant return to the surface, power radiating from his very being, his former classmates falling to their knees in terror and regret. They would beg for his forgiveness, but it would be too late. The weak Kenji they had known was dead, dissolved along with that first slime.
What remained was something far more interesting.
Something that would reshape this world according to his will.
The Dissolver of Bonds smiled into the darkness ahead, and the darkness smiled back.