Chapter 1
Despite the years, some things never change.

It is in the nature of humans to resist change.

Admittedly, the above statement sounded like some teenager's attempt to be profound and thoughtful, but it was a proven fact. People were creatures of comfort, and change depleted them of that comfort.

As a result, people rarely changed or developed. They held onto core values and fell into familiar habits because in the end, that was what was comfortable for them. They could call it "growth" if they wanted to, but they'd just be fooling themselves.

I was a perfect example. It had been 5 years since I had come to this world, but I was still working at the Hostess of Fertility and simultaneously as an adventurer. A good deal of surface changes had occurred that had changed my habits and perhaps my mannerisms, but in the end, I hadn't really changed at all.

Neither had Loga. The ash-colored werewolf was still as arrogant as ever, getting drunk and picking fights with that toothy sneer on his face everywhere he went. Neither had his attitude towards newbies changed.

Unfortunately, I suppose that was why Flova's newest charge ended up bolting out the door without even paying for his food.

~~This is a Line Break~~

Everything started 30 minutes ago, when Flova brought in a customer and seated him at the edge of the bar, which I was manning tonight. Apparently, "someone" had booked in for a large part of the tavern tonight, meaning that Mia had to personally man the kitchen. Thus, I was relegated to the position of bartender.

Sorry, did I say relegated? I meant promoted.

It was a given that idle work is the best type of work, since maximum satisfaction could be provided with minimal effort. Therefore, by working as a bartender, I was doing right by my Japanese ancestors and being a proper corporate slave, exactly like what society expected me to be.

"Hikigaya-san~" Flova's voice beckoned me over to the edge of the bar. "There's a new customer here, so take good care of him, okay?"

I waved her off with a hand, watching her melt back into the tavern's hubbub before turning towards the counter–Totsuka?!

Wait, wait, wait.

I blinked my eyes once, then twice. Then I rubbed them before refocusing my gaze on the new, white-haired arrival.

It wasn't Totsuka, but damn, he came close to the real deal. He was even making my heart stop with that bashful expression of his as he–hey, hey, hey, hold on, you're not allowed to do that. This Hachiman's heart can only be swayed by the purest of maidens, so I'm sorry, but I'm going to need you to stop. Only the one and only Totsuka-chan can open the way to my heart.

I sucked in a deep breath and waited for the heat on my cheeks to fade before I approached the kid, who couldn't have been older than 16. With the white hair atop his head and those red eyes, upon a closer evaluation, he reminded me of one of those almirajs from the Middle Floors.

"Can I have a pasta, please?" I nodded in assent, scribbling out the order and passing it backwards to the kitchen. A couple minutes later, the pasta was in front of the kid, who was wearing a somewhat forlorn expression.

Probably thinking of his wallet. Flova's allure really wasn't anything new to me, considering she had attempted all manners of charms in our occasional poker games over the years. She could be extremely convincing if she wanted to.

As the kid began digging in, Flova slowly waltzed back to the edge of the bar. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

The white-haired kid replied timidly as I turned to fill a tankard of ale for someone else at the bar, something along the lines of feeling a little overwhelmed. In response, Flova untied her apron and pulled up a stool, talking to him again before shooting me an inquisitive glance.

In response, I shrugged. Your laziness, your punishment, Flova.

Flova seemed to get the message, flashing me a little smile before going right back to talking to the white-haired kid as I tuned out their conversation entirely.

A couple more minutes passed before the doors were flung open–which, interesting enough, wasn't that uncommon of an occurrence. But what made this particular door-opening special was the fact that, like some scene out of a spaghetti western, the entire tavern fell silent.

The truth, of course, became immediately clear to me: everyone here was a paid actor.

It was only when the newcomers walked in, stepping on a creaking floorboard, that a flurry of whispers erupted from amongst the crowd.

"What is it, royalty?"
"Course not, take a look at 'em emblems…"
"Ah… Loki Familia."
"The rumored giant-slayers?"
"The 1st-class all-stars, eh?"
"I wonder which of them's the Sword Princess everyone talks 'bout."

Loki Familia had reserved the corner tonight, and as they began crowding into the tavern, the room was silent as Orario's elite squeezed into the seats inside the dining area and out on the terrace. Idly, I stepped into a familiar routine, picking out Loki Familia's executives and listing off names in my head as I topped off tankards and delivered dishes to those seated at the bar.

Finn Deimne, Riveria Ljos Alf, Gareth Landrock. Braver, Nine Hell, and Elgarm, all Level 6 and the original executives of the familia. Then there were the newer members, all top-of-the-line Level 5s.

I already knew Loga, who was known as Vanargand these days. Aiz Wallenstein, the Sword Princess, was the city's prodigious adventurer poster child. There were the Hiryute twins Tiona and Tione–Amazon and Jormungandr, respectively.

Next to them were the 2nd-stringers I had met earlier today: Nord and Autumn, along with some others, most prominently Lefiya Viridis, who was apparently known as Thousand Elf due to her ability to use any kind of elvish magic.

A rustling to my immediate left drew my attention, and I watched as the white-haired kid ducked behind the bar, barely peeking out from the corner. It wasn't hard to follow his line of sight and find the object of his admiration–Wallenstein.

"... Bell… ?" Flova asked hesitantly. Her expression was a mix of amusement and concern as she watched the white-haired kid continue to huddle behind the bar.

As the entire tavern watched, Loki stepped onto the table, cupping her hands and letting out a big whoop. "YEAHHHH, everybody! Great job today! Be sure to drink up and PARTYYYY HARD!"

Loki Familia gave a collective cheer that echoed in the tavern as suddenly everyone else around them returned to their usual business in an instant, the initial silence completely forgotten. Again: paid actors.

White-hair slowly crept back into his seat as well, timidly eyeing Wallenstein even as he went back to his pasta. From the looks of it, he was one of those people–the type Hackard complained about earlier. People who joined the Dungeon out of a vain desire to impress others or because they admired someone else.

In other words, a lovestruck idiot that was going to get killed early and only scraped by on luck.

It was a harsh outlook, sure. But it was a realistic one.

Now, had I been the mentor, wise-teacher-like archetype, I would've told the kid to quit adventuring. He was cute enough to go into the idol business, no questions asked, and with those looks of his he could get just about any girl he wanted without risking his life. Except for Wallenstein, obviously, given her obsession with the Dungeon, but that was an impossible goal to begin with.

However–and more importantly, fortunately–I was no mentor archetype. Nor did I have any desire to be one. That sort of role came with its own downsides, such as trauma from the tragic deaths of students that would haunt me, being forced to deal with enemies out for my head, or having to actually teach people and interact with them. And how could we forget the unlucky tendency of every mentor to sacrifice themselves for their students? No sacrifices for me, thank you very much.

Unfortunately for the white-haired kid, Loga was the unskippable alternative. Riding on the high of success and alcohol, the werewolf had gotten far too drunk far too quickly.

"Hey, Aiz!" There was a loud thunk as the werewolf slammed another empty tankard onto the table, letting out a howl of laughter. "Tell us that one story! The one about the Minotaurs that got away! Remember Tomato Boy?" His shout was so loud that it carried across the tavern, where the white-haired kid stiffened up like a statue, his fork dropping to the plate with a quiet clatter.

It was easy to put two and two together, considering I had met the so-called Tomato Boy earlier today as well. Although I definitely didn't expect that blood-covered exterior to be hiding such a cute–

No. Bad, Hachiman. Bad.

As Loga continued recounting the details of the expedition, the conversations in the background slowly faded away. Not just in the metaphorical sense where a character tunes everyone else out, but literally, everyone in the tavern stopped talking as Loga kept talking.

"That 'adventurer'... hahaha!" Loga laughed raucously. "Damn newbie of a kid… he was about to die before Aiz carved up the Minotaur… and… he got a full blast of that monster's blood! Soaked him all over! That's why it's Tomato Boy! Gyahahaha–ow, my ribs!" The werewolf's laugh was cut short as Wallenstein's elbow found its way into his side. "That wasn't on purpose, right?"

"... No, it wasn't." Despite her blank expression, Wallenstein was a horrible liar.

Fortunately for her, Loga simply laughed again, everyone around him joining in as tears pooled in the werewolf's eyes and he gasped for breath.

"But, really, seriously, that was the first pathetic thing I've seen in a while. It's so sad that I could cry!" Downing another tankard of ale, Loga prattled on. "Really, if you're gonna cry like a little baby, then you shouldn't be down there, am I right? Hahaha!"

"That's enough, Bete." My eyebrows rose as I heard one of the elves–Alf–speak. "It was our fault the Minotaurs escaped to begin with. The boy committed no crime, so I see no reason to make fun of his trauma over drink." Though she did nothing more than politely sip at her drink, I wasn't fooled. Years of experience told me that Alf's indignation was rising by the minute. "Learn some respect!"

This was rare. Loki Familia's laissez-faire approach to these sorts of situations meant that they'd let Loga finish before apologizing after he had left the scene. I guess Alf had reached some sort of limit with Loga's abrasive attitude, though.

In the meanwhile, the werewolf proceeded to ignore the mile-high flag of danger that flew past him. "Ha! You elves and your pride! How is it our fault if they get killed? You're just trying to protect your fragile ego, right?" He sneered at Alf, and a few of the others laughed awkwardly as the two locked stares from across the table. "Trash is trash! What's wrong with calling it what it is?!"

"Hey, hey, heyyy! That's enough, don'tcha think?" Loki must've sensed the rising tension because she jumped in between the two of them, hands held out. "You two're both killing the mood. Calm down a little, won'tcha?"

"Ha! What'd you think, Aiz? Do you think that little shit deserves to stand at our level, huh?" Despite that, however, Loga laughed, baring his teeth in a grin as he tossed out a question to Wallenstein.

"... I don't blame him."

"Tch… you're no fun… fine! I'll change the question." Next to me, the white-haired kid flinched as Loga's next words were heard across the room. "Aiz! Him or me–who's the better man?"

"That's absurd…" Even Deimne paused at Loga's words. "Bete… you're drunk, aren't you?"

"Shut it! Choose, Aiz–which one of us wags your tail?"

"..." Wallenstein was silent for a moment, but when she replied, there was a clear edge of anger to her words. "I have no reason to answer that question. Especially to you, Bete."

"Ha! Well, what if he came up to you and said he liked you? Would you take him?" At those words, Wallenstein stiffened visibly. Loga's grin merely widened at her involuntary reply. "See? 'Course you wouldn't! Why would you let someone like that stand next to you?"

His next words were a loud declaration that rang through the silent tavern. "A tiny kid like that could never land Aiz Wallenstein!"

There was a loud thud as the white-haired kid practically exploded out of his chair, dashing into the crowd.

"Wait, Bell!" Flova's cry echoed out, too late for the kid to hear as he weaved through the crowd, the door's slight swinging all that was left of him in mere seconds. For the newbie adventurer that Loga claimed he was, he sure moved fast… but I guess that those sorts of situations that made you wish for death could really get someone going.

With a sigh, I untied my apron, tossing it offhandedly onto the rack before slipping out of the bar and moving towards the exit as fast as I could. Mia hated it when people dine and dashed, even unintentionally. I wasn't about to earn a fist to the head for negligence, given my Level 3 prowess.

However, I wasn't even halfway there before a certain werewolf's leg blocked my path. "What's it to you, Raul, chasing after him?" Loga smirked as he raised another tankard to his mouth as he continued to talk. "You know how it works. If they're weak, then there's no point in doing anything for 'em!"

"I'm not Nord, Loga." At my words, Loga's lopsided grin faded, his tankard lowering as his expression creased into a fierce scowl.

"... Hikigaya." His foot lifted up, allowing me to move through as I moved out past the door–

–only to find nothing more than a crowded street, with Wallenstein standing there, utterly silent.

~~This is a Line Break~~

In the present, the tavern was winding down for the night. As the last of Loki Familia's members staggered out the door, swaying back and forth, I picked up a broom and dustpan.

"Mmmmphf!" There was a sound from above me, and I looked up before dropping the items in my hands to the floor.

Of all the messes that Loki Familia had made, this one was probably the worst. Usually, they'd at least try to fix something that they messed up. Judging from the thrashing werewolf that they had chained up to the ceiling, they had clearly failed to do even that.

Sighing, I clambered onto a table to untie the bound Loga, who only began twisting back and forth even more as I tried to untangle the mess of rope from around him. The rope's knots, however, firmly refused to budge, so eventually I gave up on unknotting them.

Instead, I reached down, grasped one of the knives that were laying on the table, and swung as I yanked the rope taut. The blade passed through without any resistance, and Loga dropped to the floor in an ungraceful heap.

As he slowly got back to his feet, Loga sighed, his mouth firmly curling into a frown.

"... Thanks, Hikigaya." There was a small thwump as Loga tossed a small sack of money in my direction before ambling out the door, tail trailing limply behind him and ears pressed flat against the top of his head. Picking up the sack, I eyeballed the value–a good 5,000 Valis–and placed it on the bar's counter before picking up the broom and dustpan again.

"Cleaning up after Loki Familia is always a daunting task. Would you like my assistance?" Without waiting for a reply, a green-haired elf knelt down next to me, righting the fallen stools and tables as I swept up broken plate shards and splintered tankards before depositing them in the trash can.

As we worked together in silence, I allowed myself to relax, letting a familiar rhythm work its way through my body. There really wasn't a need for conversation here, and both Lyon and I knew it; instead, both of us continued, working in a comfortable routine as we cleaned up the mess Loki Familia and other customers left behind every night.

"Please, Mama, he's a really good kid, I promise, he is! Anyone would run out after hearing that!" Our routine tonight, however, was interrupted as the door opened and Mia casually walked out.

Of course, when I say 'casually walked out', I meant that the floorboards were audibly creaking with every step.

"Calm down, Syr. I'm just going to have a little chat with our dear and valued customer once I get my hands on–I mean, once I find him." Mia-san, this humble Hikigaya-kun thinks you need to calm down. The ゴゴゴゴ kanji is showing up again.

"I heard you say 'get my hands on', Mama! Please, he's a good kid!" Tearfully, Flova turned to me. "Hikigaya-san! Please help me~"

Unfortunately for her, Flova's pitiful wails were lost on my ears. I've been with you for 5 years, Flova. You need to start trying something new. Have you considered getting on all fours and using the Hachiman 108: Dogeza?

~~This is a Line Break~~

Once the day had finished and I was in the comfort of my room, I opened the manila envelope I had received earlier in the day. Spider's information was as solid as it had always been, and I was kept informed about the comings-and-goings of Orario in general, so the 5,000 Valis I paid every month was a loss I was more than fine with.

Spider probably knew that the fantasy equivalent of the modern newspaper he was giving me was worth well over 5,000 Valis, but I guess he was nice enough not to press the issue, since I had been his first customer in this project of his.

Taking out the packet of papers, I began to thumb through them, my eyes flicking through the pages, one by one.

Loki Familia went on an expedition for Cadmus Water, commissioned by the Dian Cecht Familia.
Ganesha Familia was the host of a Banquet of the Gods at their familia home tomorrow.
Hermes had returned to the city with a delivery of papers and letters and packages.

Well, there was at least one piece of information that I would be putting to good use tomorrow morning.

~~This is a Line Break~~

The Traveler's Inn was moderately large, a 3-story wooden building that had a built-in docking bay along with a storage warehouse built right into the side. Right now, said docking bay was loaded with 2 carts, both stacked to the brim with wooden crates and boxes that had giant arrows and labels of "This Side Up" on the sides.

However, despite both the shapes and sizes the packages came in, all of them had one thing in common: all of them had the symbol of a feathered hat with wings sprouting from both sides stamped into them.

Hermes Familia. Rank: F. Type: Exploration, though I knew that they ran several other businesses on the side, such as their delivery service. Members: 21. Majority of members were Level 2. Led by Asfi Al Andromeda, alias Perseus. Highest cleared floor: 24th. Floor bosses cleared: 4.

I knocked on the door, and found myself greeted by Hackard's yawning visage. Shambling about in loose-fitting pajamas with a nightcap lazily flopped over her blue hair, Hackard shook her arm in a facsimile of a greeting as she let me in.

"Mo-morning, Hikitan–awawwawaahhhh…" Her mumbled greeting was punctuated by a massive yawn. "You're looking… for Hermesh-shama, riiight…? He'll… be in his usual… office…" She stuck her arms in the air, stretching from head to toe.

Nodding, I trekked upstairs, stopping as I came to the end of the hallway and found myself staring at a partially closed door, from which I heard a voice loudly scolding Hermes for his reckless foolishness. The voice's tone was sharp enough to make me wince a little, and the punctuated slaps of a hand onto a table weren't exactly helpful, either.

Finally, as the torrent of words died away, there was a brief sigh before the door was flung open, revealing the furiously exasperated face of Asfi Al Andromeda, who began stomping away from the office, throwing one last glare towards the other occupant as she did so.

"Asfi-chaaaan~" A voice called out, but Andromeda didn't even look backwards before she disappeared downstairs. "Ah, well. Come in!"

I walked through the doorway and found myself rewarded with the sight of a tall, blonde man who was dressed in faux-cowboy attire, complete with the wide-brimmed feather hat he wore on his head. Using a single finger, the man tipped the brim upwards just slightly towards me.

"Heya, Hikigaya. How're you doing?" Taking off the hat, the man lazily spun it around in his finger as he eased himself onto his desk, letting his boots dangle freely in the air.

"Hello, Hermes," I responded. "I'm fine."

"Well, come on in. We don't have all day, right?" As I sat on the stool, my back facing Hermes, the god laughed lightly. "I've got packages to deliver, and you've got a Dungeon to explore. Unless…?" I didn't miss the half-pleading tone in his voice.

"When do you want them delivered?" If I had to be honest, I could've refused. But at the same time, Hermes was also the god providing the lifeline to my only way of returning home, and even I wasn't that stupid.

"Heh. You know me too well, Hikigaya!" Chuckling, Hermes began to trace lines down my back, beginning to update my Status. "Packages 32 through 48 need to be delivered by Friday–that is, the Monster Feria. If you could take that day off to deliver them… well, you can say that I'd owe you one."

I felt his finger trace down my back as he finished putting the final touches on my Status, and the light from my back faded away as Hermes finished, jotting down my stats onto a piece of paper before passing it over.

"Here you go."

Hikigaya Hachiman
Hermes Familia
Level 3

Strength: C 640 - 674
Endurance: D 598 - C 632
Dexterity: C 655 - 693
Agility: C 659 - 688
Magic: I 0

Developmental Abilities
Perception G
Abnormal Resistance H
Treatment I

Skills
The Ordinary: Makes user unremarkable and unnoticeable, even if one is completely obvious in broad daylight. Effectiveness increases based on similar entities in proximity. Passive.

All in all, it was a barebones Status. No special abilities and no gimmicks, either. No 'weak ability that was strong in the hands of a protagonist'. Just a single Skill and 3 Development Abilities, the most special I was ever going to be.

After all, Hikigaya Hachiman could only ever be Hikigaya Hachiman. There was nothing more or less that the Status would draw out.

But at the least, it was better than the average Level 3.

"You're still growing pretty fast," Hermes remarked as I slipped on my clothes. "Most Level 3s are stonewalled where they are; your progress is above-average, by the standard. Just how deep are you going with Maris-chan, just the two of you, hmm? 27th? 28th? 29th?"

Almost as if reading my thoughts, Hermes smiled. "Or could it be… you've already passed the 30th Floor by just the 2 of yourselves?" There was a playful tone to his voice as he continued. "Well, in any case… be careful about the rules. Level 2s shouldn't be going so deep, after all."

The truth was that Hackard and I had made it to the 32nd by now, but I didn't tell him. Hermes never asked either of us directly how far we had gone, insisting on throwing out guesses and nothing more. He claimed that it was because it was fun to guess, but it was rather obvious that he was attempting to maintain plausible deniability, just in case the Guild ever knocked on his doors and asked why 2 registered Level 2s–rather than the Level 3s we actually were–were found way outside of their allowed depth.

"Yeah, I got it." The unspoken message was there, loud and clear. I turned to leave, but Hermes wasn't finished yet.

"Before you go, Hikigaya…" As he stared at me, Hermes frowned. "... Actually? Forget it. It's nothing."

"I'll be fine, Hermes." I knew all too well what he wanted to say. Dropping the paper in the trash, I walked out the door to Hermes's quiet farewell.

~~This is a Line Break~~

Sometimes, I wish I drank alcohol.

But then, memories would inevitably surface in my mind. Loga's lack of restraint, Umbar's rowdy caterwauling, and finally, what Hackard did when she got drunk.

It wasn't as if drowning one's sorrows in alcohol actually worked anyways. Source: Nights spent in a tavern with Hackard drinking herself under the table.

But I did indulge in the occasional bowl of comfort food.

The original ramen street cart from years ago had expanded, bolstered by its success. Now, it looked more like the izakaya bars I was more used to seeing back home, and with its expansion, there were more and more customers there. Lifting up one of the curtain flaps, I quietly entered a small part of Orario's bustling urban life.

"Ah." I blinked as I entered, greeted by the face of a familiar dwarf who was slurping down his ramen with gusto at one of the tables. I watched as he noticed me, paused, swallowed, and then waved.

"It's Hikigaya!"

"Yo, Umbar." Waving back, I noticed the rest of Umbar's companions–all fresh-faced newbies, by the looks of it. Both of us stared at each other awkwardly before Umbar gestured at the 4 of them.

"These are the newest kids I've been assigned from my familia. All Level 1s, but they've all got good potential. Good teamwork when they're together."

"Um, Umbar-san…" One of the dwarf's companions–I'll call him 'Person #1' for now, since he had ordinary, lackluster features as well as standard gear, two things which would let him easily blend into the background–raised his hand. "This is…?"

"Hikigaya. I used to party with him," Umbar said fondly as he took another bite of his food.

Person #1, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure you're not mistaken, Umbar-san? He looks… I don't know, but he looks pretty boring and ordinary to me." Now that was just rude and hurtful. Where was the respect for fellow adventurers these days?

I raised my hand stiffly in an awkward greeting. "I'm Hikigaya. Nice to meet you."

The girl next to Person #1–by that order, she was Person #2–gasped and pointed a finger at me. "I know you. You're that Level 2–the Everyman! People say you're close to hitting Level 3."

There was a murmur from around the table, and judging from the looks I was getting, I had a dawning premonition that I probably wasn't going to be able to enjoy my ramen as I had intended to.

It was true that Level 2 adventurers weren't exactly a dime a dozen in Orario, but they were comparatively common enough that there were over 300 of them at any given time, with unique titles for every single one of them.

Sorry, did I say unique? I meant to say 'cringey chuuni titles that made me want to erase myself off of the face of the earth'. Especially if my title ended up being changed to something like that. Death would be a merciful blessing in comparison.

What made it even worse was the fact that every person in Orario and the wider world were all chuunis, which meant that they would shamelessly brandish these embarrassing titles in broad daylight in front of other people. Zaimokuza would've fit right in with them in a heartbeat.

The cherry on the top was the fact that the gods knew. That's right, they knew. In fact, if Hermes's horror stories were anything to go by, the gods delighted in picking cringey names to torment other deities beneath their self-proclaimed station.

In comparison, something like "the Everyman" wasn't that bad, but still. A nickname was a nickname, and it was a stain upon my reputation.

"You're really Level 2, huh?" A voice broke me out of my monologue, and I looked over to see Person #1 glaring at me. "If you're really one of Umbar-san's old companions, then why? Why'd you leave him in the dust like this, huh?"

"Harold." Umbar's voice lowered to a growl as he realized where Person #1 was heading. "You've been drinking too much. That's enough."

Person #1 failed to take the hint. Instead, he stood up from the table. "He wasn't that injured to the point where he had to stop adventuring! Why'd you stop partying with him, huh? Did you think that the party didn't need Umbar-san anymore after he lost an–"

"Enough!" There was a loud clatter as Umbar's right hand slammed into the table, the bowls and plates jumping a little before spilling their contents all over the table. "I've said this before: I chose to leave. That's the end of it. Understand?" His glare was enough to cow the rest of the people at the table into silence.

"... Sorry, Umbar-san. Hikigaya." Person #1 nodded meekly as he sat down, his anger fading, but the metal prosthetic that had replaced Umbar's right arm lingered on the table. As much as I wanted to stop looking, I was unable to tear my gaze away. It had been–

"Sorry, lad. Accidentally made you see somethin' bad there." Umbar sighed heavily as he took a pull from his half-filled tankard. "Still, it was nice to catch you, Hikigaya. I'm busy right now, but maybe we can eat ramen together with Maris next time, eh?"

"Yeah, sure." Even though I answered in the affirmative, however, I knew that I would never follow through on it.

Some things never changed, after all.

Chapter Afterword:

That's all you'll be getting of Bell Cranel(for a while, at least). I'm just teasing it just a little, for now. There are several reasons as to why:

1) Hikigaya in his current state is too powerful for the early Danmachi canon to handle. Every single challenge that builds Bell and propels him towards Level 2 over the course of the first 3 volumes, from the Silverback to the Minotaur, wouldn't take much more than a flick of the wrist for Hikigaya to easily solve. It streamlines the storyline, sure, but it also requires a lot more work since canon divergence would be wild. It's a story-breaker, but I'll explain why he's Level 3 right now later on, so just bear with me.

2) I don't want to take the route that Sage of Eyes and With Death Comes More Death have taken–that is, the route where Hikigaya accompanies Bell, being a sort of mentor/party member as they traverse through the early Danmachi canon and solve their own problems, diverging canon as they go, be it wildly or mildly. Instead, I'm planning on having Hikigaya slowly weave into the plot.

Everything else is going to be put in an Informational threadmark, which I will be composing and publishing shortly.

Also, I realize I might've screwed up the interactions in the Prologue, since I realize that's not exactly the direction I'm planning on taking, in regards to what I've planned later in the volume. I'm probably going to need to rewrite that. Ughhhhh… hopefully, I didn't, but that remains to be seen.

… I'm probably going to need some help planning this out and dropping the right details, aren't I?

Depending on how the next chapters are received, I guess. I'll see.

Let me know how this chapter went, if the characterization and writing quality are still up-to-par. Reviews are much appreciated. Thanks.

See you soon,
Oreo the Cookie