Last night, standing alone on the rooftop, Rimuru couldn't sleep. The photograph fragments scattered across the workshop floor. Gobzo's back. The memory of Benimaru and Shion's angry shouts echoing off the stone walls. It kept spinning in his head. And Thursday morning came. ──── The great dining hall of Tempest Castle——on the first floor, where three long tables stood in a row——Rimuru sat alone. The sound of a chair leg scraping against stone. Footsteps of someone walking down a distant corridor. That was all. It was usually different. Shion would shout from the kitchen, "Lord Rimuru! I've made a special soup this morning!" and for some reason always burst through the door with force. Shuna would quietly follow up with, "Shion, that soup has been simmering since yesterday." Benimaru would sit with his arms crossed, saying, "Forget the food talk—let's discuss today's training." Ranga would wag his tail at their feet, eyeing any scraps someone dropped. That's what this place was every morning. Today Shion wasn't here. She was apparently depressed about yesterday, thinking she'd caused trouble——that's what Souei told him. Benimaru was holed up in his room. He didn't want to face Shion——that information came from Ranga's nose. Shuna was cleaning up the workshop. Souei had been moving since before dawn investigating Gobzo's movements. Every seat was empty. The place where Shion always spilled food while serving too much. Benimaru's usual spot with his arms crossed. The place where Shuna would arrange dishes and say, "How does this layout look?" All of it remained exactly as it was. And no one was here. (When did it get this quiet?) Rimuru took a sip of soup. Shuna had prepared it early this morning. It tasted fine. But he couldn't really taste it. Then came a single set of footsteps. Right on schedule. An elderly man with white hair tied up entered, his posture perfectly straight. Hakurou——the oldest swordsman among Tempest's executives, responsible for education and etiquette in the castle. He had quiet eyes. When he got angry, he spoke in a low voice. And somehow, being scolded by him hit harder because of it. Hakurou pulled out a chair and sat down without a sound. Then he straightened his posture once more and looked at Rimuru. "[serious]Lord Rimuru. Morning meals are the foundation of one's entire day." "[gentle]……Yeah, that's true." "From the way one pulls out a chair, to how one holds chopsticks, to the order in which one takes soup——each of these reveals a person's character." "Mm." "Especially for those in executive positions, one's conduct at the table becomes an example for those below. You must understand that maintaining proper posture is the beginning of the day." "Yeah." Only Hakurou's voice echoed through the dining hall. As Rimuru responded, he looked at the empty seats across the long table, one by one. Shion's place. Benimaru's place. Shuna's place. All empty. "Lord Rimuru, your responses are more obedient than usual today." Hakurou nodded with satisfaction. (……It's not obedience. I'm just not here mentally.) Rimuru didn't say it out loud. Hakurou wasn't at fault. Hakurou came here every day, sat down properly, and talked. That was enough. ──── After breakfast——if you could even call today's affair that——Rimuru moved to his office. The second-floor office had a view of the central plaza from the window. Morning light streamed in, illuminating the mountain of documents. Scattered across the desk were the three-character manuscript Shion had brought, copies of photographs taken at the market, and scraps of Shuna's design proposals. The remains after everything had been torn to shreds yesterday evening. Rimuru sat in his chair, staring at them. "[cold]Lord Rimuru." A figure emerged from the shadows without a sound. Souei——dressed in black with long black hair, appearing from nowhere in that particular way of his, the head of the intelligence division. His expression was almost blank. But his eyes were always watching something. "[serious]There's a new development regarding Gobzo." Rimuru looked forward. "Tell me." "This morning, in the central market——at the crowded Hotchpotch Plaza——he's resumed his speech. The content is the same as yesterday. Tempest is merely a tool for the Demon Lord's self-satisfaction, Lord Rimuru doesn't listen to the residents' voices——he keeps repeating that." Rimuru waited silently for more. "More residents are stopping to listen than yesterday. Additionally——rumors have begun spreading through the market that the pamphlet has been cancelled." "……Cancelled? I never said anything like that." "Rumors don't concern themselves with facts." He said only that, then Souei vanished without a sound. Rimuru was left alone in the office. He looked at the scraps on the desk. The remains of a photograph showing children's smiling faces. The edge of a design proposal that Shuna had carefully laid out. All of it had been complete until yesterday. I was the one who suggested making the pamphlet. I wanted the outside world to know about Tempest. I wanted to convey the goodness of this city. That's all I intended. But—— (Did I listen to the residents?) No. I asked Shuna. I asked Shion. I asked Benimaru. I left everything to the executives, and I only learned what the general residents thought when Gobzo started his speech. (Can I really say this is a country for everyone?) Rimuru slowly pressed his forehead against the desk. Thud. A quiet sound echoed through the office. That was all. ──── How long had he been like that? Knock. A modest sound. Not really a knock. More like the sound of a door opening quietly, without much hesitation. When Rimuru looked up, a goblin's face was peeking through the gap in the door. Blinking eyes. A slightly foolish smile. It was Gobta. Gobta was a goblin with an unusually wide network among Tempest's residents——or rather, one who wandered into places he shouldn't——and was one of the hobgoblins named by Rimuru. He was short and always seemed a bit carefree. But somehow the market aunties liked him. "[gentle]Um, I was trying to come from the market to the castle," Gobta said, scratching his head. "[gentle]But before I knew it, I'd wandered into this room." Rimuru sighed. "[sarcastic]……Lost again?" "Well, I did come in the direction I wanted to go, but it's the wrong room." It was typical. Gobta had no intention of learning the castle's layout. He wandered into some room three times a month. When Rimuru lifted his head from the desk, Gobta stared at his face. "[surprised]Lord Rimuru, you seem kind of down." "[sarcastic]……It's nothing." "But your face looks dark." "Can't help it, there's been a lot going on——" "[gentle]Oh, that reminds me." Gobta suddenly turned his attention elsewhere. "This morning, I happened to overhear the market aunties talking." Rimuru waited silently for him to continue. Gobta spoke in a way that suggested he didn't think it was particularly important. "They said they didn't hate you or anything, Lord Rimuru. It's just that they're scared their lives will change if lots of people come from outside. Because they like their lives the way they are now." ──── Rimuru looked up. Gobta didn't say anything more. He just stood there vaguely, with the expression of someone who'd shared what he'd heard. (……They don't hate me.) (They're just scared of change.) (Because they like their lives the way they are.) Those words fell right into the center of his chest. Rimuru was silent for a moment. This morning, that silence with only Hakurou's voice echoing through the dining hall. The empty long table. Shion's usual seat. Benimaru's usual spot. Shuna's place. He'd been annoyed every morning by the noise. The chaos, someone spilling something, someone saying something, nothing ever settling down. That breakfast meeting——today it was quiet——and so lonely. (I'm the same.) I was just scared of that dining hall changing. What Gobzo wanted to protect, what the residents were afraid of——they were probably the same kind of thing. And what should go in the pamphlet——it wasn't impressive photographs or eloquent writing. It was that dining hall's chaos itself. The place where Shion spills food. The spot where Benimaru sits with his arms crossed. Gobta's story about getting lost at the market. Goblin Elder's hour-long talk about the hot spring district. Ranga jumping into the hot spring and blowing through the fence in the afternoon. That's what it was. Rimuru stood up. "[surprised]Oh! Did I get in your way!?" Gobta hurriedly stepped back. "[gentle]No, no. You helped." "Huh?" "Can you get back to the market?" "M-maybe……if I head straight for the exit……" "[sarcastic]Well, can't be helped. Let's go together." Gobta stood there looking confused. ──── After seeing Gobta to the castle's exit, Rimuru returned to his office. He picked up Shion's manuscript from the desk——those three characters——and carefully smoothed out the crumpled paper, then tucked it into his chest pocket. Outside the window, the cityscape of the central district spread out in the morning light. The magic lamps still glowed faintly. The voices of goblin children drifted up from the market direction. There were two things to do. First, go to Gobzo. Listen to him. Not impose, but actually listen. Next, call Benimaru and Shion to the same place. How to call them, he still didn't know. If those two stayed stubborn, there was no point talking. He knew neither would be easy. Gobzo was obstinate. Even yesterday, he'd turned his back and left. And if Benimaru and Shion ended up in the same space, there was a good chance something would explode again. (Well, can't be helped.) Rimuru murmured quietly. This time it wasn't hollow. The moment he opened the door—— "[serious]Lord Rimuru. There is a continuation to our earlier discussion." Hakurou was waiting in the hallway. His posture was perfectly straight. His eyes were full of determination. Rimuru froze for one second. "[gentle]Hakurou, we'll talk later." He walked quickly past him. A black shadow moved with a whoosh at his feet. Ranga. His jet-black fur rippled softly as he began running alongside, his tail wagging. Hakurou's voice——"Lord Rimuru——"——lingered in the hallway. Rimuru didn't look back. Ranga stayed perfectly at his side. When they exited the castle, the morning air was cold and refreshing. Hotchpotch Plaza was five minutes south from there. Gobzo should still be standing in that spot.