Attendance… plz…)
….
"Every single one of those is a reason. Which one do you believe?"
Rimuru's voice dropped, the playfulness vanishing.
"I'm going to say this one more time. Put the gun away. I'm on my way to pick up my apprentice. If you scare her, I guarantee you will die here."
"…"
For the first time, Kiritsugu's demeanor shifted. The tension didn't leave his frame, and the gun didn't lower an inch, but his voice took on a transactional tone.
"Fifty meters ahead. Turn right. Continue straight until we hit the Hub Plaza. Let me out there."
"You risked everything to sneak back into the heart of enemy territory just to hold a gun to my head and ask why I didn't hunt you down?" Rimuru tilted his head, rolling his eyes theatrically.
"Or do you have other errands to run? Planning to shoplift something? Maybe put a bullet in someone else? You expect me to just play taxi driver while you ignore my questions?"
Rimuru paused, waiting for a bite.
Nothing.
Kiritsugu remained a statue of indifference. When they reached the intersection, he simply barked, "Turn right."
Wow, Rimuru thought. This guy is a brick wall. A cold, hard, unyielding brick wall.
"Fine, fine."
Rimuru laughed, shaking his head. Then, a mischievous glint entered his eye.
"Hey. If I told you a method to save a lot of people, like, a statistically significant number of lives, would you tell me why you tried to kill me that day?"
"...Speak."
Kiritsugu jabbed the gun barrel forward, emphasizing the demand.
Rimuru was speechless.
This guy. He really intends to strong-arm me into giving up info for free? Does he think he's the only one with cards to play?
"You really think you have me cornered, don't you?"
Rimuru's voice dropped.
In the next instant, Kiritsugu's pupils contracted to pinpricks.
He sensed movement, not from the driver's seat, but from below. Boundless, the liquid Mystic Code, had flowed silently from under the seat. It surged up beside Kiritsugu, twisting and solidifying until a second Rimuru sat right next to him.
The clone tilted its head, mirroring the driver. Both mouths moved in perfect sync, their voices layering into a strange, harmonic resonance.
"If I were easy to kill, I would have died a long time ago."
"Come on, take a guess."
"Which one is… the real me?"
"Or, using the most common logic of magecraft… are neither of them real? Or perhaps both?"
…
Silence stretched in the cabin.
Kiritsugu forced his breathing to remain steady, his mind racing. He immediately thought of the rumors surrounding the puppet master, Aozaki Touko.
It was said she was unkillable because she had countless puppets hidden away. Every time she "died," her consciousness and soul simply transferred to the next vessel, rebooting like a machine.
And this Rimuru… this eerie phenomenon felt terrifyingly familiar.
That day, Kiritsugu realized, sweat prickling his back. I didn't miss. I blew his head off. I definitely killed 'a' Rimuru.
But the horror was… there might be more than one.
The Contender in his hand felt heavy. The Origin Bullet was a guaranteed kill against a magus, but against a puppeteer operating a remote drone? It was a wasted shot. And he only had so many bullets.
Kiritsugu swallowed hard, the cold sweat now real.
"So, is it my turn now?"
Rimuru blew right past the Hub Plaza. He didn't slow down. He didn't even tap the brakes. Instead, he accelerated toward the General Foundations lecture hall.
Since confirming that his little apprentice could actually understand the coursework, Erol's tragic life of schooling had begun.
Technically, the Clock Tower didn't allow toddlers to audit classes. There were rules against teaching magecraft to children under six. But…
Rules are for people without tenure and terrifying amounts of mana.
Rimuru had bulldozed the administration with a speech about how "Special geniuses require special treatment! We cannot let bureaucracy stifle potential!" It sounded noble enough that the student body ate it up, boosting his popularity even further.
He conveniently left out the part about the potential psychological damage of putting a five-year-old in university lectures. The only person protesting was Erol herself, but her teary-eyed objections were overruled.
Back in the car, the power dynamic had flipped.
Rimuru, realizing his bluff had successfully neutralized the threat of the Origin Bullet, was feeling incredibly smug. He had wanted a polite chat, but Kiritsugu had chosen violence.
Well, if you won't play nice, neither will I.
Rimuru took his hand off the steering wheel, formed a finger gun, and pointed it backward, right between Kiritsugu's eyes.
"Bang!" Rimuru chirped playfully. "Now, talk! What was the purpose of the hit?"
"...There was no purpose."
Kiritsugu looked like he was calculating the odds of jumping out of a moving vehicle. He was confident he could evade Rimuru's attack, but fighting here meant triggering the Clock Tower's alarms.
The assassination attempt was still fresh news. The Lords were all in residence for the start of the semester. If the alarm went off, the entire faculty would descend on him like a hammer. It was a guaranteed death sentence.
"As a bounty hunter, working for money is normal behavior…"
"Oh?" Rimuru let out a mocking, sing-song laugh. "The great 'Hero of Justice' kills for a paycheck? Do you really expect me to buy that?"
"I won't attack you again." Kiritsugu forced himself to stay calm, choosing his words carefully. "However, aside from saving people… I also work as a mercenary to eliminate magi with… poor track records."
"My track record… Oh."
Rimuru paused. His smile faded slightly. "If judged by your moral compass, then yes. I suppose I have quite a few stains."
He shook his head, not particularly bothered.
In this life, he had been raised with the traditional mindset of a magus. Looking back with his recovered memories, some of it seemed extreme, but he couldn't deny his actions. During the years his memories were sealed, he had done plenty of "bad things."
That was the root of his constant bickering with Aoko.
….
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