After chatting for a while longer, Jun finally rose from his seat. The distance he had to travel to get home was not short, and night was beginning to fall.
"Well then… see you next time," he said briefly.
He stepped out of the restaurant, heading toward the station where he had parked the bicycle he had just bought.
The five people left inside the restaurant watched Jun's back as it slowly receded, until his figure was swallowed by the bustle of the street.
A few seconds passed.
Rias was the first to break the silence—without turning toward Issei.
"Issei," she said. "Did you feel anything?"
"Eh…?" Issei blinked in confusion. "What do you mean, Buchou?"
"I mean," Rias continued calmly, "did you sense anything strange… about Jun?"
Issei thought for a moment. Then, in a tone that was far too quick, he replied,
"Ah yeah! I think he's a jerk!"
The answer sounded too honest… and at the same time, too deliberate.
Rias did not respond. She knew Issei well enough to understand the intent behind his words—more to tarnish Jun's image in front of his senpai than a genuine assessment.
"I see," she murmured softly. "So you didn't feel anything."
That was the part that bothered her.
As the owner of the Boosted Gear and host of the Red Dragon Emperor, Issei should have possessed sharp instincts toward unusual entities. The fact that he felt nothing at all only made Jun's existence even more… suspicious.
Rias turned to the side.
"Akeno," she said. "Did you have your familiar follow him again?"
Akeno smiled gently, but her gaze was serious.
"Yes, Rias."
Issei and Asia exchanged looks, clearly not understanding where the conversation was going. For Asia, everything felt too complicated. Meanwhile, Issei simply felt that there was something he had missed—and that made him uncomfortable.
On the other hand, Xenovia observed calmly.
She did not dwell too much on suspicion or strategy. For the former exorcist, one thing felt simple enough.
She had just gotten her first friend on Line.
And that alone was enough to make her happy.
Meanwhile, far beyond their sight, Jun continued on his way—without looking back, without hesitation—as if the world behind him were merely one of many paths he would pass through.
...
'Since I've already told them where I live, it looks like I'll have to start acting more carefully.'
That thought crossed my mind as I parked my bicycle beside the camp. Dusk was nearly over, and the surrounding forest was beginning to sink into a dim orange glow.
To be honest, I never intended to keep hiding forever.
Sooner or later, I would reveal my existence at the three-race conference to be held in Kuoh City. It was an initiative by Azazel—initially just limited negotiations, but eventually growing into the seed of a peace treaty between the three major factions.
And I… was a variable not listed on anyone's agenda.
That was why, before that day arrived, I needed to make sure this place would not become a weak point.
The familiar that had tried to tail me still hadn't found any trace. That meant applying this item had been the right choice.
I took it out of storage.
[Barrier Marker – Rank S]
Its form was simple—a dark-colored iron spike. But its function was anything but.
An item that marks a territory with a radius of one kilometer. The rules of the territory are entirely determined by the user.
The description was brief. The effect was absolute.
I drove the spike into the ground at the center point of the camp. The moment the iron tip touched the earth, a subtle vibration spread out—not physically perceptible, but clearly caught by my senses.
The barrier activated.
I closed my eyes for a moment, then began to establish three rules.
First.
This territory is invisible to the world.
To ordinary humans, and to beings that do not meet the requirements, this place is nothing more than an ordinary stretch of forest. No hut. No paths. No signs of human presence.
Second.
Residents and visitors must possess good intentions.
Anyone who comes with malicious intent—whether to spy, to harm, or to take something—will be immediately affected by the first rule. They will never truly see this place.
Third.
Visitors cannot lie within this territory.
This rule only applies if the previous two rules are satisfied. Not to force honesty… but to ensure that no lies hide behind false goodwill.
I opened my eyes.
The forest remained the same. The wind still blew. There was no visible change.
But I knew—from now on, this place was safe.
...
Days passed as usual in the real world.
Meanwhile, in a place completely removed from the bustle of humanity, Jun continued his ascent of the Tower of Babel—a structure whose very existence defied the logic of space and time.
He had now reached the 41st floor.
Unlike the previous floors, which consisted of enclosed and oppressive spaces, this floor spread out as an open forest. Tall trees soared upward, their canopies dense, allowing only faint light to filter through the leaves. A gentle wind blew, carrying the scent of damp earth and old foliage.
Though it was called a tower, each floor of Babel held its own mysteries.
From floor one to floor thirty, the challenges Jun faced were relatively consistent: monster subjugation. Defeat the floor guardian, clear the area, and move upward.
But that pattern began to change on the higher floors.
On the fortieth floor, the rules of the game shifted completely. There was no target to defeat. No enemy that had to be brought down.
The condition for passing was only one.
Survive.
Jun was forced to traverse a path filled with traps—mechanical, magical, and conceptual—designed not to test his strength, but his composure. A single small mistake was enough to end everything. That floor was not about victory, but endurance.
And now, on the 41st floor, the question arose once more.
Would the challenge repeat?
Would this floor return to a conquest format like at the start of the ascent—or instead present a new and more dangerous trial?
Jun stood at the edge of the forest, all his senses on alert. There was no announcement. No explanation of the rules.
Only an oppressive silence.
But this time, something was different.
A notification appeared out of nowhere—without warning, without a clear trigger. This was not normal. Until now, Jun had always been forced to interpret the objective of each floor on his own. The Tower of Babel rarely, almost never, provided direct guidance.
That was why the appearance of this message made him even more cautious.
[The Tower Has Issued a Quest]
– Defeat the Orc Champion: Karokan –
The text floated before him, cold and neutral.
Usually, quests like this appeared as a systemic consequence—an automatic response to certain progress conditions. But this time was different. It wasn't the system issuing the command.
It was the Tower itself that had given the quest.
Jun narrowed his eyes.
"What's going on now…?" he muttered.
On his shoulder, Maw twitched softly. The blue slime wriggled, as if sensing the same change. Not fear—rather, an instinctive vigilance toward something that should not have happened.
//--//
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