If you ask me, the world ending once was more than enough excitement for a lifetime.
Which is exactly why I retired.
Right now, my life is exactly how I planned it.
I was slouched comfortably on my couch, one leg hanging lazily over the armrest, hoodie half-zipped, wearing a pair of shorts and my favorite worn-out slippers that had clearly seen better days. In my right hand was a convenience store onigiri. In my left was the remote. The television in front of me played the newest episode of the anime I had been waiting for all week.
A slow-life farming isekai.
Absolute peak relaxation.
My apartment itself was quiet in the comfortable way that only a lazy afternoon could achieve. Sunlight streamed through the curtains beside the window, filling the living room with a warm golden glow. Dust floated lazily in the light like tiny drifting stars. My coffee table held the usual assortment of snacks, empty wrappers, and a half-finished bottle of soda that I had forgotten about sometime earlier.
It was peaceful.
Very peaceful.
And after everything the world had gone through… I intended to keep it that way.
On screen, the anime protagonist was watering his crops under a beautiful sunset while birds chirped and soft music played in the background. His wooden farmhouse sat in the middle of endless golden fields, surrounded by friendly villagers and magical creatures helping him harvest vegetables.
I stared at the screen thoughtfully while chewing my onigiri.
"Man," I muttered to myself. "That life looks nice."
The guy didn't have to deal with monster raids. Or guild paperwork. Or emergency calls from city defense departments asking if you could "just handle one more dungeon boss real quick." He didn't have to worry about demons invading the planet or world-ending catastrophes showing up during dinner.
He just farmed.
No apocalyptic threats.
No emergency alarms.
Just watering crops and occasionally befriending magical chickens or something.
Honestly, that might be the real endgame.
I leaned back further into the couch and studied the peaceful countryside scenery on screen as the protagonist proudly showed off a basket of freshly harvested vegetables.
"Maybe I should buy a farm one day," I murmured thoughtfully. "Somewhere quiet. Away from cities. Away from dungeons."
I took another bite of my onigiri and nodded to myself.
"Yeah. That sounds good."
Tomatoes.
Tomatoes seemed like a solid crop choice.
Low maintenance. Versatile. You could put them in almost anything. Sandwiches, pasta, soups… you could even just eat them raw with a little salt. Very practical vegetable.
I imagined myself standing in a peaceful field somewhere, wearing one of those wide farmer hats, harvesting tomatoes while the sun slowly set over the horizon.
No alarms.
No guild messages.
No giant demons kicking down city walls.
Just tomatoes.
"Yeah," I decided, pointing my onigiri at the TV like I was making a serious life decision. "Tomatoes are the move."
I was halfway through imagining my future peaceful tomato farm when the episode suddenly cut to black.
A loud jingle played.
Commercial break.
"Ugh," I groaned, slumping deeper into the couch.
The worst enemy of modern entertainment.
Advertisements.
I stared at the screen in betrayal.
"You can't just interrupt peak relaxation like that," I complained to the empty apartment. "The crops were about to be fertilized. This is critical plot development."
Before I could complain further, the screen abruptly switched to a news broadcast. A serious-looking anchor appeared behind a desk while the words Breaking Dungeon News flashed dramatically across the lower portion of the screen.
I stared at it for a moment.
"...Well that's ominous."
"Earlier today," the reporter began, "new dungeon gates have been confirmed in three separate locations around the world."
Footage appeared on screen.
A swirling purple gate towering over a city skyline.
Another one emerging from the middle of a forest.
A third hovering ominously above a coastal town, crackling with unstable mana.
I took another bite of my onigiri.
"Hmm," I said thoughtfully to absolutely nobody.
The reporter continued speaking as the footage cycled between locations.
"The first gate was discovered in Seoul, South Korea. Initial mana readings suggest a C-Rank dungeon."
"The second gate appeared near Chicago in the United States and has been classified as D-Rank."
"The third gate, located near Florence in Italy, shows significantly higher mana density and has been estimated to be B-Rank."
I chewed slowly while watching the footage.
Helicopters hovered above the gates while government vehicles blocked off nearby roads. Teams of armored hunters gathered outside the containment zones while officials directed civilians away from the area.
Standard procedure.
"Government officials have stated that high-ranking awakeners are already being mobilized to raid the newly emerged dungeons," the anchor continued. "Authorities have assured the public that the situation is fully under control."
Of course it was.
Dungeons appearing randomly around the world wasn't exactly breaking news anymore. It had been happening for fifteen years now. Humanity had gotten pretty good at dealing with them.
C-Rank, D-Rank, even B-Rank gates were basically routine operations these days.
The hunters would go in, clear the monsters, collect the resources, and shut the dungeon down before it could destabilize.
Then the guilds would sell the materials.
The governments would collect their taxes.
And the internet would argue for three days straight about which hunter looked coolest during the raid.
Standard procedure.
I leaned further into the couch and finished my onigiri.
Honestly, none of this concerned me anymore.
Those days were behind me.
Three years ago, I had officially retired from all that nonsense.
Well.
Mostly retired.
I still went into dungeons occasionally.
But only for practical reasons.
Living a peaceful civilian life unfortunately required money. Rent didn't pay itself. Neither did electricity. Or groceries.
And more importantly… neither did anime streaming services.
That last one was non-negotiable.
So from time to time I would enter a dungeon, collect some decent monster materials, and sell them to the guild.
Nothing too crazy.
Just enough to cover expenses and maintain a comfortable lifestyle.
Think of it less as "hunting monsters" and more like freelance resource collection.
Very professional.
Very responsible.
Very definitely not dangerous world-saving hero work.
The news broadcast shifted to footage of several well-known hunters preparing to enter the Italian B-Rank gate.
A group of flashy armored awakeners posed dramatically for the cameras while reporters crowded around them with microphones.
One of them confidently declared, "This raid will be over in less than two hours."
I shrugged.
"Probably," I said lazily.
B-Rank dungeons looked terrifying to normal civilians, but to experienced hunters they were manageable as long as the raid team was competent. A good tank, a reliable healer, a few solid damage dealers, and someone with decent battlefield awareness.
Team composition mattered more than raw strength most of the time.
Personally, I preferred C-Rank dungeons.
Lower risk.
Still decent material drops.
Efficient.
Efficiency was important when your life goal was maintaining maximum relaxation.
I stretched my arms and let out a long, satisfied sigh.
Life had been pretty good lately.
After the whole… Demon King situation.
The world had returned to normal surprisingly fast. People moved on, hunters went back to dungeon raids, and the global panic slowly faded away. Governments rebuilt damaged cities, guilds reorganized their operations, and the news cycle eventually shifted back to arguing about politics and celebrity gossip.
Most people believed the disaster had simply ended on its own.
A mysterious miracle.
Funny how that worked.
I glanced toward the window beside my couch. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains and painted soft patterns across the living room floor.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
Exactly how I liked it.
Of course, maintaining this peaceful lifestyle required a small amount of preparation.
For example… concealment magic.
That part was important.
Every awakener was legally required to register with the Hunter Guild. Governments liked knowing who possessed supernatural abilities capable of leveling buildings.
Which meant I had to register too.
Unfortunately, revealing my real abilities would cause… complications.
Lots of them.
The annoying kind.
Media attention.
Government investigations.
Guild recruitment offers.
Endless requests asking if I could "handle this one emergency dungeon situation."
No thank you.
I had already done my heroic world-saving quota.
Which was why I developed a small spell called Arcane Concealment.
A very useful trick.
It masked my true resonance, hid my actual level, and suppressed my mana output so detection systems would read me as completely average.
As far as the official hunter database was concerned, I was simply:
Ren Arclight.
C-Rank Awakener.
Resonance Type: Enchantment Support.
Completely harmless.
Totally normal.
Definitely not the guy who sealed the Demon King three years ago.
Nope.
Not me.
I adjusted my hoodie and leaned further into the couch as the news segment continued discussing dungeon raid preparations.
Honestly, I didn't envy those hunters.
Running around fighting monsters every day sounded exhausting.
Been there.
Done that.
Retired early.
Now my biggest daily challenge was deciding what snacks to buy from the convenience store across the street.
Speaking of which…
This onigiri was pretty good.
I made a mental note to buy the same flavor next time.
The reporter on television finally finished summarizing the dungeon situation.
"Authorities will continue monitoring the gates as raid teams move in," the anchor said. "More updates will follow later today."
Good.
Which meant the commercial break should be over soon.
I grabbed another onigiri from the convenience store bag beside the couch and waited patiently.
Just a little longer.
Then my farming anime would resume.
Peaceful crops.
Relaxing countryside music.
No demons.
No monster invasions.
Just the perfect slow-life atmosphere.
Exactly what I needed.
And absolutely nothing was going to ruin this peaceful afternoon.
...
Right?
The peaceful farming anime finally returned from commercial break, and I immediately settled deeper into my couch like a king reclaiming his rightful throne.
The cushions adjusted beneath my weight with the familiar softness that only came from years of dedicated laziness and absolutely zero interest in replacing furniture that still technically worked. I grabbed another onigiri from the plastic convenience store bag beside me, unwrapped it carefully with the respect such an important snack deserved, and returned my full attention to the television.
On screen, the protagonist of Slow Life Farmer in Another World was speaking to an elf villager who had apparently decided to move into his peaceful countryside settlement.
"So if we rotate the crops every season," the elf said thoughtfully while pointing at a diagram drawn in the dirt, "the soil will remain fertile longer."
The protagonist nodded seriously while holding a basket of vegetables.
"That's brilliant," he replied.
I chewed slowly, watching the screen with deep concentration.
"See?" I muttered to nobody in particular. "This is what real life goals look like."
No monster invasions. No emergency hunter meetings. No giant demons smashing city infrastructure. Just crop rotation discussions with friendly elves.
Honestly, humanity had been pursuing the wrong objectives this entire time.
Why fight world-ending threats when you could simply grow tomatoes?
Tomatoes were peaceful. Tomatoes didn't require combat training. Tomatoes had never once summoned an army of monsters or destroyed an animation studio. That alone made them significantly more trustworthy than most supernatural entities I had encountered in my life.
I took another bite of onigiri and nodded approvingly as the anime protagonist proudly displayed his newly planted crops to the elf villager.
"That's the dream," I said quietly. "Wake up, water plants, harvest vegetables, go to bed. No emergency guild calls. No city evacuation sirens. Just tomatoes and good soil management."
Right then, my doorbell rang.
Ding-dong.
I froze mid-chew.
Slowly, I turned my head toward the apartment door.
The door stared back at me silently.
I frowned.
"...That's suspicious."
Nobody visited me.
That wasn't pessimism. That was simply statistical reality.
I didn't exactly have many acquaintances to begin with. The only person who visited me with any regularity was my younger sister, and she was currently busy somewhere inside a dungeon doing what she called "solo raid training." Which meant she definitely wasn't ringing my doorbell right now.
Which left only one reasonable explanation.
Delivery.
I reached over to the coffee table, grabbed my phone, and unlocked it while keeping one eye on the television. The anime protagonist had just begun discussing greenhouse construction, which meant the episode was entering an extremely important phase of agricultural development.
But first, investigation.
First app.
Food delivery.
Order history: empty.
Second app.
Package delivery.
No pending shipments.
Third app.
Grocery delivery.
Also empty.
I stared at the screen for a moment.
Then at the door.
Then back at the screen again.
"Huh," I said thoughtfully.
Technically speaking, if I hadn't ordered anything, then the doorbell logically could not be for me.
Which meant the conclusion was obvious.
Satisfied with this flawless piece of detective work, I placed the phone back on the table and returned my full attention to the anime.
Problem resolved.
The elf villager was now explaining fertilizer techniques.
This was important educational material.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang again.
I sighed.
"Persistence is an admirable quality," I said toward the door. "But unfortunately you're bothering the wrong person."
On screen, the protagonist had begun assembling the wooden frame of a greenhouse.
This was critical plot development.
Ding-dong.
I leaned back into the couch and stared at the ceiling.
"If I don't move," I reasoned aloud, "then whoever that is will eventually assume I'm not home."
Silence followed.
I waited.
Peacefully.
Confidently.
Ding-dong.
"...Unbelievable."
I slowly sat up.
My entire body protested the movement as if I had just been asked to climb a mountain instead of stand up from a couch.
"This better not be a sales representative," I muttered while stretching my arms. "If someone tries to sell me insurance right now, I might actually become the villain of this story."
I set the half-eaten onigiri down on the coffee table, slipped my phone into my pocket, and dragged myself to my feet.
Walking to the door took approximately five seconds.
Emotionally, it felt closer to five minutes.
When I finally reached the entrance, I grabbed the handle and pulled the door open.
Then I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Because sitting directly in front of my apartment door were three eggs.
Large eggs.
Not chicken eggs.
Each one was roughly the size of a small watermelon.
"...Huh."
I stared at them for a long moment.
One egg was deep blue with faint silver patterns running across the shell like flowing water. Another was crimson red, its surface glowing faintly like a burning ember. The third egg was golden, its shell softly shimmering under the hallway lights.
I crossed my arms and tilted my head.
"Well that's new."
My first instinct was to check the date.
I pulled out my phone again and glanced at the calendar.
March.
Definitely not Easter.
I looked back at the eggs.
"Who leaves eggs at someone's door in March?"
No note.
No delivery box.
No suspicious wizard hiding in the hallway.
Just three mysterious eggs sitting quietly like they had lived here their entire lives.
I crouched down slightly and inspected them.
"...Not plastic," I muttered.
They looked real.
Very real.
Also suspiciously magical.
I could feel a faint mana signature radiating from them. Nothing aggressive, nothing threatening — just a quiet magical presence humming beneath the shell.
Which raised several extremely concerning questions.
Why were there three magical eggs at my door?
Who put them there?
And more importantly—
Why my door specifically?
I stood up again.
"Nope," I decided.
This clearly fell outside my area of responsibility.
I stepped back into the apartment and closed the door.
Problem solved.
If the eggs were outside the apartment, they were part of the hallway's problem.
Not my problem.
I returned to the couch, sat down, picked up my onigiri, and resumed watching the anime.
The greenhouse construction had progressed significantly during my brief investigation.
Good.
Agricultural development was important.
I took another bite.
Chewed thoughtfully.
Then sighed.
Because now that I knew there were three glowing magical eggs sitting outside my apartment door, it was slightly harder to concentrate on crop rotation techniques.
"...This is why I hate curiosity," I muttered.
I lasted exactly twenty seconds.
Then I stood up again.
Walked back to the door.
Opened it.
The eggs were still there.
Exactly where I left them.
Just sitting patiently like they belonged.
I rubbed my face tiredly.
"You know," I said to the eggs, "normal people would call the authorities."
The eggs did not respond.
"Or maybe the Hunter Guild," I continued.
Still nothing.
Of course they didn't respond.
They were eggs.
I crouched again and studied them more carefully. The mana signatures were faint but stable, which meant they probably weren't about to explode.
Probably.
Also, leaving magical objects unattended in a public hallway was generally considered irresponsible. Some kid could walk by and try to kick them.
Which would almost certainly end badly for the kid.
I sighed.
"Fine," I said. "But I'm only doing this because hallway safety regulations are important."
I picked up the blue egg first.
It was warm.
Not hot.
Just comfortably warm, like it had been sitting in sunlight.
"That's concerning," I murmured.
Next came the red one.
Slightly heavier.
Definitely magical.
Then the golden egg.
Which was lighter than the others but somehow felt… energetic.
"Yeah," I muttered while carrying them inside. "This is absolutely how disasters start."
I set all three eggs carefully on the coffee table.
They sat there quietly.
Colorful.
Suspicious.
Very egg-shaped.
I stood over them with my arms crossed.
"Alright," I said slowly. "Let's establish some ground rules."
The eggs continued being eggs.
"Rule number one," I continued. "You are not allowed to explode."
No response.
"Rule number two. If you're cursed artifacts, please activate somewhere else. Preferably outside the city."
Still nothing.
"Rule number three," I added, pointing at them. "I am not raising anything that hatches out of you."
Silence.
I nodded to myself.
"Good talk."
I returned to the couch and sat down again.
The anime was still playing. The elf villager had moved on to discussing irrigation systems.
Excellent.
I leaned back into the cushions and grabbed my onigiri again.
Behind me, the three eggs rested quietly on the coffee table.
Warm.
Magical.
And completely innocent-looking.
Which was exactly why I had a very bad feeling about them.
Still.
I took another bite and stared at the television.
"It's probably nothing," I said.
Because obviously, bringing three mysterious magical eggs into my apartment was a completely reasonable decision that would definitely not affect my peaceful life in any way whatsoever.
Absolutely not.
Not even a little.
Looking back later...
That was the exact moment my peaceful slow-life retirement officially ended.
*****
End of Chapter 1
RETIREMENT STATUS REPORT:
Owner: Ren ArclightFormer Occupation: World-Saving ArchmageCurrent Occupation: Retired Hunter (Self-Declared)
Peaceful Life Goal:
Watch anime, eat convenience store snacks, and eventually own a tomato farm somewhere far away from dungeons.
Today's Activities:
*Watched farming isekai anime*Decided tomatoes are the ideal crop for peaceful living*Investigated persistent doorbell*Discovered three suspicious magical eggs outside the apartment*Made the catastrophic decision to bring them inside
New Responsibilities Acquired:
*Blue Egg*Red Egg*Golden Egg
Peaceful Retirement Stability:
100% Start of Day90% Doorbell Incident60% Egg Discovery5% Eggs Brought Inside Apartment
Current Retirement Status:
Critically Compromised
Future Outlook:
Extremely Suspicious
Archmage Personal Statement:
"I am absolutely not raising anything that hatches out of those eggs."
Prediction Accuracy:
Very Low