Awakening of the Weakest Slayer

After taking a bath, Sezel went to his room and peeked his head through the crack in the door like a thief sneaking into his own room. His eyes darted left. Right.

'Good, that crazy woman is not here.'

Then he jumped in and closed the door shut.

'Step one of being rich - go get a new pair of cloths from the cupboard.'

Sezel opened the cupboard and stood there like a statue for some time, his gaze was fixed inside the the cupboard.

The cupboard was empty.

He pushed the cupboard shut with a bang, as though that would teach it guilt.

A rich man. He couldn't even cosplay as one.

So, naturally, he had to the fallback to his old clothes.

His trusted attire, aka the least offensive rags he owned — The miraculously whole white shirt he found at the mall... though it was not completely whole.

'Let's skip the two holes. Other than that its perfectly fine.'

The black pant, that had somehow come to fit him. But it was torn from around the knees.

'hah, that is just modern fashion.'

Suitably dressed, if you could call it that.

He stretched and glanced at himself in the mirror's reflection.

"Step two of being rich—stand dramatically by the window and admire the city you own.",

Sezel went to the window and slid open the curtains. The sun light flooded in and illuminated, every corner of the room.

For a second, the play of light almost gave the illusion of splendor. Almost.

Below him sprawled the so-called city.

Though, the whole city or if you can call it a city. It was just ruins, littered here and there like toys. Beasts of all kinds were visible roaming the broken city.

Sezel's eyes twitched looking at the view, the smile on his lips almost fading.

'Uhh... It is kinda... ugly. Isn't it? Let's proceed further.'

He walked away from the window, gulping hard. Not that he was afraid of height, he just didn't like the view of the ruined city.

"Oye, Sezelllll!"

The shout boomed through the silence, echoing across the empty floors.

Not just one or two times, it echoed several times, just like it does when you shout out from the peak of a mountain into the valley.

Well yeah, his room was on 30th floor of a 80 floor large 5-star hotel. And it was mostly... not mostly, it was completely empty. Save for the four people who lived here, including Sezel.

Sezel grimaced, shoulders sagging.

"…Coming…"

He muttered the word, knowing full well she didn't hear it, and trudged back into the corner of his room.

There he stood silently looking at an old portrait.

A painting of a towering tree. Its image was cracked and torn in places by time, but even in its ruined state it whispered of wealth. Pricelessness.

Sezel's lips pressed into a line. His fingers curled.

"Should i do it? or not?" he asked, as his gaze dropped low.

Then with a determined look he looked back up, "Of course, I need to know."

Moving carefully, he lifted the portrait free from the wall, revealing the... wall that hid behind it.

Behind the portrait was no ordinary wall, but a surface crisscrossed with rough, linear markings, not one or two but a lot of them.

Sezel sighed, looking at the marks. He was clearly tensed.

Then he walked to the wall and brought out a marker, though where it came from is a mystery.

It's magic...

Carefully, he added another scratch alongside the rest.

And then he counted.

"One… two… three… sixty-seven…"

His voice stuttered when the number settled in.

Sixty-seven lines.

His eyes widened. A brittle chuckle escaped.

"No. No. No way…" He recounted them, one by one. Same number.

Sixty-seven.

He dropped face-first onto the bed, burying himself in the pillow. His shout became muffled fabric misery.

"SIXTY-SEVEN DAYS! I'VE BEEN TRAPPED WITH THESE CLOWNS FOR OVER TWO MONTHS! SHIIIIT!"

Those were the markings Sezel started to make he came here... or the day he woke up in this cursed tower, dragged between lunatics.

Since then he has been tracking every single day.

"I should've just died back then…" he groaned. "Better than going insane with these people."

"You dumbass, where are you? Come down!" Emili's voice echoed again, cutting through his spiraling despair.

Sezel's face twitched. Muscles broke into a twitching grin of hatred.

"That crazy woman…AHHH!"

He forced himself up and placed the portrait of the tree back on the wall, hiding the markings and then continued out of his room.

The kitchen was on 20th floor, the one they used. There were exactly four kitchens in this hotel, each covering the next twenty floors for their services.

But since there was no one living here, and no one was going to come either... after all there was no one in the Spirit Realm.

Except... the slayers who came in the expedition four months ago.

Just a few rooms from Sezel's room there was a working lift miraculously, basically this whole building... hmm let's rephrase it.

The whole city Sezel was in right now was completely different from the one he was in two months ago, it was a city of future to be precise.

The tech here, as Sezel learned during his stay here, was even more advanced then that on earth but unfortunately, it was mostly destroyed.

The hotel in which they stayed was powered by a mysterious source that seemed to replenish energy on its own.

This hotel was one of the structures in the whole city which was completely unaffected by the beasts. Nor did any of the beasts try to come even close to this place.

At first Sezel thought this place was just haunted, but soon he soon realized that it was not the case.

The elevator dinged. Its doors slid open.

And the dining hall revealed itself.

A cavernous area spanning the entire floor, glittering with timeless polish. Chandeliers, velvet tables, marble tiling—everything still pristine, clean, and absurdly luxurious.

It was so huge and clean that when he first had his lunch here, he was sure that he had died and this place was heaven.

But... who would let him inside heaven anyways? and hence he accepted the reality.

Still, the place never lost its sting. Standing here as a lone rat inside a palace felt surreal.

People from the slums would clutch their hearts and drop dead right at the entrance. He almost chuckled at the thought.

"You see that? The slowpoke is laughing." Emili commented and burst into laughter.

The mocking tone drew him out of his thoughts.

Sezel's eye twitched.

Emili was sprawled out at the central table, her long legs arrogantly resting atop a nearby chair.

'One day… oh, one day… I'll push her off the rooftop myself. Maybe throw her. Depends on how theatrical I'm feeling.'

His gaze lingered on her legs, uncovered and pale, but still flexing the muscles.

'Although… considering the weight, maybe throwing's not an option.'

His lips twitched with a dark little grin.

Sometimes, he was sure that his survival fantasies were the only thing keeping him sane.