You’re Telling Me This Is a Slice-of-Life?

The faintly metallic scent of the sea breeze, the pitch-black village, the abandoned buildings, and the barely visible girl.

These elements together painted a striking picture in Yuuki’s eyes. He couldn’t quite put into words what made it beautiful—perhaps it was simply that the person in the scene was too stunning.

There was no need to guess—Sakurajima Mai had already made her stance clear through her actions, so direct that it felt almost abrupt.

“You were too straightforward in rejecting Li Dan’s offer.”

“My current role is that of an innocent high school girl who doesn’t understand veiled hints and values friendship above all else.” Mai spread her hands, her gaze clear and pure.

“That does fit your character, but being too naïve can be dangerous.”

“Why? The game explicitly states that innate traits can’t be stolen. No matter what he’s thinking, he has no choice but to take us along.”

Chaos artifacts could be shared between players, but their side effects were too severe for most new players to handle. In contrast, innate traits were bound abilities—no way to swap users.

But nothing was absolute. If a veteran player got their hands on this ability, the difficulty of clearing the game would drop significantly.

That thought flashed through Yuuki’s mind, but since he had no proof, there was no point in voicing it and causing unnecessary worry.

“I get it—you’re jealous of me and Hasaka—”

Before he could finish, black hair fluttered as Sakurajima Mai gracefully leaped in front of him, her face adorned with a bright, friendly smile.

“I’ll give you two seconds to rephrase that.”

Yuuki instantly straightened up and declared loudly, “Mai-senpai is a woman of principle and would never betray her friends for personal gain.”

“That’s more like it.” The girl nodded in satisfaction, clasped her hands behind her back, and leisurely headed upstairs.

Damn, in complete darkness, and she still managed to step right on my foot so precisely—does she have some kind of passive skill?

Yuuki bent down to rub his foot, grimacing, but deep down, he felt a faint warmth—he hadn’t misjudged her.

His “Seer” ability let him glimpse Sakurajima Mai’s personality, preferences, and traits in advance, but it couldn’t predict how she would change under extreme pressure. Life-and-death situations had a way of altering people.

It was just like the start of the game—they moved cautiously through the abandoned building, beginning their exploration from the underground parking lot and slowly making their way to the rooftop. Occasionally, they stopped to look into the distance, where they could see flashing police lights and helicopters soaring overhead.

It really did feel like a certain game—as the wanted level increased, the enemies escalated from ordinary officers with handguns to an all-out aerial-ground assault. Yuuki suspected that in this dungeon, there was no cap on escalation. If some veteran player thought they could brute-force their way through, they might end up facing an entire fleet of gundams.

The underground tunnels were being explored, the port area and shipping containers had already been searched—the noose was tightening, leaving them with fewer and fewer places to maneuver.

“They’re starting to search this way,” Yuuki murmured, leaning against the wall as a helicopter’s searchlight swept past. The sound of barking dogs grew clearer. After circling the building twice, he had a general grasp of its layout.

Fifteen floors, facing south, staircases on the east and west sides, a hollow elevator shaft in the center, and rows of empty apartments lining the hallways—a standard residential complex.

“Should we take another detour?” Sakurajima Mai panted slightly, making a silent vow to work on her endurance once they got out of this alive.

Climbing from the underground parking lot to the rooftop, then back down toward the first floor—her legs felt like they’d been put through an entire year’s worth of exercise since the game began.

“Want to sit down? I’ll give you a foot massage.” Yuuki saw right through her exhaustion—walking tens of thousands of steps a day was hardly something an ordinary person could handle.

Sakurajima Mai glanced at the man’s calm expression, hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “No funny business.”

“Please don’t underestimate me. Without black stockings, I won’t lose control of myself.”

That deserved a punch.

The girl raised her hand, but instead of striking, she obediently stretched out her leg. At first, she was tense and wary, but soon, she relaxed.

It couldn’t be helped—it really felt good. The pressure was just right, his fingers found the sore spots with pinpoint accuracy, causing just enough pain to be effective yet still bearable. It was obvious he knew what he was doing.

But that gaze of his…

“Hey, why do you look like you’re enjoying this even more than I am?”

Yuuki didn’t answer, instead focusing on the sensation beneath his fingers.

Long, slender, well-proportioned, and elastic. His fingertips glided over the delicate ankle, feeling the smoothness of her skin. In the dim light filtering through the window, he could even catch a glimpse of porcelain-white flesh.

The only flaw was her pants. If only they were silky black stockings instead—then there would be no complaints at all. Even so, he could only echo the words of a certain wise man:

“Because the texture is amazing.”

“Knew it—your mind is full of perverted thoughts. I’m done with this.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. A gentleman’s actions matter more than his thoughts. I didn’t do anything improper, so why does it matter what I’m thinking?”

Sakurajima Mai had been about to pull her leg away, but she hesitated. Indeed, Yuuki’s hands hadn’t wandered, nor had he made any inappropriate moves. He was still entirely focused on helping her relax, occasionally poking his head out to monitor their pursuers.

“…Couldn’t you at least pretend to be more refined?”

“That depends on the audience. In front of Li Dan, I play the clueless newbie. With Hasaka, I act like an expert. And in front of you, I have to be full of suggestive remarks.”

“Why?”

Yuuki paused in his movements, then looked up with a solemn expression.

“Because, Mai-senpai—you’re just as flirtatious.”

Smack.

Before he could finish, a firm slap landed on his head. He could only watch in reluctant disappointment as those long legs slipped out of his grasp.

What did he mean by “flirtatious”? How long was he planning to keep milking the bunny girl joke?

Sakurajima Mai gritted her teeth. Due to her work, she had met plenty of polite yet insincere men, as well as shameless bootlickers with no self-respect. But never before had anyone spoken so brazenly to her face.

She flexed her ankle—sure enough, the soreness in her calves had faded significantly. That made her expression even more conflicted. As much as she hated to admit it, Yuuki had been right.

Actions over thoughts.

No matter what nonsense he spouted, the fact remained—ninety-nine percent of the reason she was still alive was thanks to him.

“Not even a ‘thank you’?”

“Nope. Consider it balancing out your nonsense. I’ll thank you when you start acting decent.”

“Oh? Then you’ll be waiting a long time.” Yuuki shook his head in exaggerated regret, but inwardly, he found the exchange amusing.

Cool-headed, mature, rational, and steadfast—yet she still retained a girl’s charm and embarrassment. Just teasing her a little was enough to brighten his mood.

He wondered how the Reincarnation Game would change her. Fortunately, the chances of her being twisted beyond recognition were low.

Yuuki wasn’t fond of “blackened” heroines. When they lost control, they became unpredictable.

“What are you thinking about now?” Sakurajima Mai eyed him suspiciously. She could never quite figure him out.

“Wasn’t your question just now about whether we should take a detour?”

Sakurajima Mai’s eye twitched. She had completely forgotten after getting sidetracked. Seriously, how did this guy’s brain even work? Keeping up with his train of thought was exhausting!

“This is a grid search. Breaking through won’t be easy.” Yuuki didn’t care what she was thinking. He switched back to strategy mode and mused, “Hasaka already checked it out. As long as we don’t go on a killing spree, the enemy’s tech level and numbers won’t change. Interesting—completely opposite from the castle dungeon.”

Inside the castle, players slaughtered everything in sight. Shattered corpses and rivers of blood overstimulated the senses, and anyone who wasn’t thinking straight would easily fall into mental traps. Even if Li Dan’s abilities were boosted tenfold, there was no way he’d make it out alive.

“But if we don’t break through, we won’t last until midnight.” Sakurajima Mai stretched, craning her neck past Yuuki like she was doing a plank, peering outside. “This village isn’t exactly big or small. We might be able to keep moving for an hour at most, but if we’re cornered, what else can we do? Just sit here and wait to die?”

“Why are you struggling so much? Just lie on my lap already. What, still being cautious around a gentleman?”

“In your dreams. I’m being serious here—I’m not falling for it again.” She turned her head, shooting him a glare. Somehow, that look made his heart itch.

“Exactly. That’s the dilemma. If we don’t go on a killing spree, we can’t escape. If we do, we’re even worse off. And something’s been bugging me—since Li Dan and Thomas are connected, why not have him draw fire in the city?”

The total number of enemies was fixed. If there were more on this side of the canal, there had to be fewer in the city. The only problem was avoiding reports from civilians—but for Thomas, knocking them unconscious before they even screamed was trivial.

“What’s so surprising about that? That bird’s nest hair guy wouldn’t sacrifice himself for anyone. Why would he put himself in danger?” Sakurajima Mai scoffed. Sometimes this guy overthought things. Wasn’t the answer obvious?

It was the only explanation, and the most logical one. But Yuuki still felt like something was off—just like how Li Dan claimed his innate trait was being a “weapon master.”

Dealing with players was definitely more mentally taxing. He listened as the hum of helicopter rotors returned, exchanged a glance with Sakurajima Mai, and the two of them flattened against the ground, crawling deeper into the building. Only after the third-floor walls blocked out the light did they slowly get up.

A metal door stood in front of them, sticking out awkwardly amidst the gray, unfinished concrete of the abandoned building. Yuuki didn’t dare turn on his flashlight, running his hands over the surface until his fingers found something—and his face lit up.

“A ball lock. Simple mechanism. Hand me your hairpin.”

Sakurajima Mai stared blankly for a moment before automatically pulling out a hairpin. It wasn’t until she heard the crisp click-click of the lock mechanism that she realized what he was doing.

“Wait, are you a med student or a thief?”

“Obviously, I’m a doctor dedicated to saving lives. I just have… a wide range of interests.” Yuuki had spent years picking up all sorts of weird skills. He wouldn’t call himself a master, but he could manage the basics.

Click.

The lock popped open. He gently pushed the metal door, revealing neatly stacked piles of supplies inside.

“What is all this?”

Yuuki didn’t answer. He pulled away the plastic sheet covering the stacks, revealing rows of metal cases. Prying one open, he nodded in satisfaction.

“Explosives and detonators. You’d need demolition charges to bring down a building like this. Remember those holes we saw when we entered?”

Sakurajima Mai tilted her head, then recalled the circular holes in the pillars and walls. It finally clicked.

She had barely given them a second thought before, but to an expert—

“Wait a second. How the hell did you know that?”

“I told you, I have a lot of hobbies. Like explosives, for example. Don’t give me that look—it’s all book knowledge. I’ve never actually tried it.”

Like hell anyone would get hands-on experience with something like this.

Sakurajima Mai wasn’t even sure how to respond anymore. She finally understood what Hasaka meant by “professional”—this was a fusion of observation, intelligence, and knowledge. But what kind of normal person studied lockpicking and explosives?

No, wait—there was also kendo, acting, and even massage therapy…

“Do you seriously spend all your time learning this kind of random stuff?”

“Wrong.” Yuuki spread his hands, flashing a grin in the shadows.

“Learning brings me joy.”