Kazuma stared at the number displayed on the panel, his expression twisted with a mixture of grief and indignation.
What the hell was this supposed to be?
A reward for an involuntary humiliation play?
Points earned by sacrificing the social standing of Satou Kazuma?
Sitting beside a foul-smelling garbage can, Satou Kazuma unleashed a roar from the depths of his soul at the translucent panel floating before him.
Twenty thousand Reputation.
It sounded like a lot.
But every time he remembered how he’d earned this “fortune,” his stomach twisted.
The humiliation of his social death washed over his fragile nerves like a relentless tide.
This damn system was definitely mocking him!
Furious, he swiped through the panel, desperately searching for something that might make him feel better.
Then he saw the “Bond Summoning” option.
Could it be…?
The thought made his heart skip.
He eagerly opened it.
A row of familiar portraits and names appeared before him—so familiar that they nearly triggered his PTSD.
[Aqua — Summoning Cost: 5,000,000 Reputation]
[Megumin — Summoning Cost: 3,000,000 Reputation]
[Darkness — Summoning Cost: 3,000,000 Reputation]
“…Huh?”
Kazuma rubbed his eyes, making absolutely certain he hadn’t misread that endless string of zeroes.
“You’ve got to be kidding me! Why the hell is that useless goddess worth five million?!”
He pointed at Aqua’s portrait and began cursing at the system.
“What does she even do besides cry, rack up debt, and cause trouble?! System, are you asleep?! This pricing has got to be rigged!”
However, as he continued ranting, his voice gradually grew quieter.
He couldn’t help remembering the blue-haired goddess.
She might have been an idiot, but she could effortlessly use high-level healing magic and resurrection magic.
In this strange world that looked incredibly dangerous, having a walking fountain of healing capable of pulling you back from the brink of death over and over again…
“Damn it… maybe she really is worth that much.”
Kazuma reluctantly admitted the truth.
A walking resurrection token might be unbelievably troublesome, but it was still a top-tier trump card for staying alive.
He looked at Megumin and Darkness next.
One was an Explosion fanatic who could fire off exactly one massive spell a day before becoming completely useless.
The other was a masochistic knight who couldn’t hit anything and seemed to actively enjoy being attacked.
Their prices were still astronomical, but compared with Aqua, they seemed almost “cheap.”
But what good did that do him?
He had only 20,000 Reputation—the bloodstained Reputation he’d earned in exchange for his dignity.
He couldn’t even scrape together a fraction of what was required.
The thought plunged him into another wave of despair.
It had been so damn hard!
Back in that cursed other world, he’d started out as a rookie adventurer and fought tooth and nail to build himself a life.
He’d schemed, cheated, conned, struggled, and risked his life countless times.
Eventually, he’d finally accumulated a fortune and moved into a luxurious mansion.
He’d been on the verge of achieving his dream life as a wealthy man surrounded by beautiful women!
And now?
He’d closed his eyes and opened them again to find himself back at square one.
No.
It was even worse than square one.
Now he had nothing but a bath towel that could fall off at any moment…
and a stomach emblazoned with the words “Excalibur.”
“What happened to my EX-rank Luck?! Is it region-locked?! Does it stop working when I switch worlds?!”
Kazuma was on the verge of tears.
No.
He couldn’t just sit around and wait to die.
His immediate priority was to find some clothes and then secure somewhere to stay.
He took a deep breath and tied the bath towel around his waist as tightly as possible—the towel representing the last shred of his dignity.
After checking several times to make sure it was secure and wouldn’t repeat the tragedy from earlier, he activated his well-practiced Stealth skill.
Like a gecko clinging to a wall, he cautiously pressed himself against the side of the alley and peeked half his head around the corner.
People were coming and going on the street outside.
The sirens were gone.
Apparently, the two police officers had given up.
“Phew…”
Kazuma let out a long sigh of relief.
He was just about to sneak out and find a clothing store where he could use his Steal skill to “borrow” something to wear when—
A white blur flashed across the corner of his vision.
The figure shot out from the street corner at incredible speed.
Behind him came shouts of:
“Stop! Freeze!”
Two exhausted New York police officers were hot on his heels.
Kazuma focused his eyes.
Then he froze.
It was a man.
A man who, just like him, wasn’t wearing a single stitch of clothing.
The only difference was that this man was carrying a wooden sword in one hand and a bundle of what appeared to be kimono clothing in the other.
He had messy, naturally curly silver hair and a pair of dead-fish eyes that seemed utterly incapable of finding anything interesting about the world.
Their gazes met with uncanny precision amid the chaos.
For a moment, time seemed to stop.
Neither said a word.
Kazuma’s eyes screamed:
“Holy crap, you got caught running naked too?!”
The silver-haired man’s eyes seemed to say:
“Huh? There’s actually another guy like me?”
In that instant, they both saw the same sorrow in each other’s eyes.
The sorrow of social death.
The weary resignation of two unfortunate souls stranded at the ends of the world.
Ah.
It was the unmistakable aura of a kindred spirit.
Almost simultaneously, Kazuma noticed a faintly glowing white scales symbol hovering above the silver-haired man’s head.
[Neutral Faction Player]
And the silver-haired man had clearly noticed the green shield hovering above Kazuma’s head.
[Guardian Faction Player]
A player!
And from a different faction!
An inexplicable sense of kinship and mutual understanding welled up inside Kazuma.
“Comrade, did you get screwed over too?”
Unfortunately, this touching display of battlefield camaraderie lasted less than three seconds.
The moment the silver-haired man saw Kazuma, his dead-fish eyes suddenly erupted with dazzling brilliance.
It was the look of a man who had discovered an oasis in the desert.
A man who had found a convenient scapegoat in his moment of desperation.
Without hesitation, he raised his free hand and pointed toward the alley where Kazuma was hiding.
Then, using every ounce of strength in his lungs, he shouted to the police chasing him in a tone overflowing with the excitement of someone discovering a new continent:
“Hey, Officer! Over here! There’s another one! There’s a completely naked guy who’s even more perverted than me! Hurry up and arrest him! He doesn’t even have any clothes!”
“…”
The expression on Kazuma’s face changed.
Shock.
Then blankness.
Then distortion.
He felt something inside his mind go snap.
The two police officers, who had nearly run out of breath chasing the silver-haired man, followed his pointing finger.
Sure enough, they spotted an Asian man hiding in the alley, wearing nothing but a bath towel around his waist.
The appearance of a new target reignited their determination.
“You shameless bastard!!!”
A furious, grief-stricken roar burst from Kazuma’s throat.
He no longer cared about Stealth.
He turned and sprinted deeper into the alley.
He swore he’d never encountered anyone so shameless in his entire life!
Were all Neutral Faction players like this?
Would they really sell out their own allies without hesitation just to save themselves?
“Ahahahaha! Thanks, buddy! See you around!”
The silver-haired man laughed maliciously behind him as he took advantage of the opportunity to escape.
“I’ll see you around, my ass! You just wait! Next time I see you, I’ll Steal everything you’ve got—not even your underwear will be left!”
Kazuma suddenly remembered something.
“Wait! You aren’t even wearing underwear! I’ll rip every last one of those curls off your head instead!!!”
As he ran, Kazuma furiously cursed the silver-haired man and every generation of his ancestors.
The sound of sirens once again approached from behind.
And this time, there seemed to be even more police.
Kazuma didn’t have time to worry about it.
He scrambled to his feet and took off after the silver-haired man.
The alley opened onto another street.
And so, the streets of New York witnessed an even more absurd spectacle.
A naked silver-haired man sprinted ahead.
A naked man wearing only a bath towel chased after him.
And behind both of them came a large group of gasping New York police officers.
“Why are you following me?!”
The silver-haired man shouted over his shoulder as he ran.
“You damn pervert! Shouldn’t you have gone the other way?!”
“You’ve got some nerve calling me a pervert!”
Kazuma was so out of breath that he could barely speak, but he refused to surrender verbally.
“If it weren’t for you, I’d have gotten away already! Think you can ditch me?! No chance! If we’re going down today, we’re going down together!”
“Who wants to go down with a guy who has ‘Excalibur’ written across his stomach?! Your taste is terrible!”
“Shut up, you idiot natural-perm! You can’t even hold on to your clothes! Keep running if you’ve got the guts!”
And so, two men from completely different worlds were forced to form the most miserable, embarrassing, and absurd alliance imaginable on the streets of another world— an alliance forged through the shared experience of running naked from the police.