Chapter Text
“Diablo, meet me now.”
“You cannot be serious,” Diablo rejected instantly. “There is no need for your return.”
“And yet I am here,” Guy responded through thought communication. “I’m staying at the same inn. Feel free to visit. I have something to ask of you.”
Diablo gazed at the stack of papers he had just finished arranging. An empty teacup and a plate bearing little more than cookie crumbs completed the aftermath of Lord Rimuru's morning work. The goblinas would have no trouble cleaning the office later.
Better to deal with Guy before he decided to become creative.
“Of course you do,” a disgruntled Diablo replied while transporting directly to the inn. “What do you want?”
“So impatient. Did you miss me?”
The soft voice carried only the faintest trace of depth and roughness - the single flaw in a disguise that would have convinced almost anyone. Likely intentional.
Diablo stared at him in silence.
The impertinence grated on his nerves. This situation required patience. If patience proved insufficient, a slice of cake - perhaps even two - would surely help.
“That would be absurd,” he replied. “But someone might notice these visits. You are not exactly inconspicuous. And my goodwill is not infinite, especially if you start creating problems for Lord Rimuru.”
The Demon Lord lounged comfortably on an elegant daybed, a folded sheet of paper resting in his hand.
Or her hand. Guy had once again adopted his female form.
“I acquired this list of activities Tempest promotes to visiting nobles,” Guy said, glancing up through lowered lashes. “I want to try some of them.”
Guy was intentionally ignoring the warning. Diablo was maintaining his composure.
“They provide guides for that purpose. Hire one.”
“Ah, but I need you specifically.”
Guy rose from his seat.
Diablo immediately disliked where the conversation was heading.
“How so?”
“As you said, I would rather not attract attention. Especially from certain acquaintances currently residing in this city. A normal guide would be inadequate.”
“I am not indulging your curiosities any further.”
A brief pause followed.
“There is a new cake available in Tempest. I’ll bring you a slice. Then you will leave.”
Guy blinked.
"You were supposed to tell me this." A pause. “And no.”
A flicker of irritation passed through Diablo's soul at the rejected bait.
Guy began walking toward him anyway.
“Come now, Diablo. Wouldn't you rather know what I'm doing?”
Silence.
“Prevent trouble before it begins?”
“You assume trouble will occur.”
“I'm involved.”
Diablo hated that this was a reasonable argument.
“Support Rimuru?”
Diablo looked obstinately to the side.
“Honestly,” he sighed, “why did you return?”
“I told you last time. Tempest is fascinating.” Guy's smile widened. “And every time I visit, it becomes more so. Now I want to visit the hot springs.”
The sheer audacity. Being seen together in such a public setting was unthinkable.
“No.”
A faint frown crossed the redhead's face.
“But I have my yukata ready.”
Guy opened a nearby wardrobe and withdrew a light silk robe.
White fabric. Flowing crimson patterns.
Diablo's composure suffered a measurable decline.
The design bore an unfortunate resemblance to one of Lord Rimuru's preferred lounging robes. At this point, Diablo was becoming concerned that it might be deliberate.
“As you are now, you'll have to use the women's baths,” Diablo said sharply. “I cannot accompany you there.”
“First, private baths are available according to this.” Guy gestured lazily with the paper. “Second, I only need your assistance avoiding Milim and Ramiris who, I am told, are frequenting the hot springs. You need not enter the water with me.”
“For the last time, no. I am busy. You can avoid them on your own.”
“Velgrynd is secretly supporting Rudra as his High Marshal.”
The unexpected information landed with surgical precision.
Guy smiled.
“Now, take a few hours away from your paperwork and accompany me.”
Diablo closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
There it was.
A valuable piece of intelligence delivered with infuriating casualness. Refusing now would mean admitting the information held no value. Accepting meant spending an afternoon indulging Guy's whims.
A steep price.
One he was willing to pay for Lord Rimuru's benefit. Barely.
And if Guy wished to spend the day asking questions about Tempest, perhaps he should be entertained.
Extensively.
***
Rimuru was reading a report left on his desk while slowly sipping his first milk coffee of the day. The morning was off to a promising start.
The mysterious red-haired woman had appeared in town again.
Checked into the same inn as last time.
Returned to several familiar shops.
So far, nothing unusual. The report agreed - she was behaving exactly like a regular tourist.
She visited the tourism office.
Then a tailor.
Asked for fabrics and patterns favored by Rimuru.
He winced. At some point, he really needed to have a conversation with his subordinates about this particular trend.
Paid extra for expedited work.
Rich visitors did that all the time.
She was seen leaving the inn with Diablo.
Now, that was interesting.
Rimuru felt mildly left out. It was good, of course, that his subordinates had lives outside work. More than good - he actively encouraged it. But he had also wanted to meet the mysterious visitor, only to be overruled on the grounds of possible espionage.
Wait.
Diablo had said he would personally investigate her.
But such a direct approach?
That seemed unusual.
Rimuru continued reading.
They attended a performance at the theater.
Shared dinner at a restaurant.
Reserved a private bath at the hot springs for the following day.
A private bath?
Rimuru reread the line.
Then he reread it again.
"My, my, Diablo."
He leaned back in his chair, the report still in hand.
Maybe this was no longer something they needed to investigate quite so thoroughly.
In hindsight, Diablo had insisted on handling the matter personally from the beginning. And if his subordinate had finally taken an interest in someone, perhaps a little privacy was warranted.
Souei would almost certainly disagree.
Rimuru took another sip of coffee.
Actually, Souei would definitely disagree. The spy had probably already assigned three separate teams to monitor the situation.
No, this required intervention.
Rimuru made a mental note to speak with Souei soon.
For Diablo's sake, naturally.
Everyone deserved a chance at happiness.
***
Sitting alone at a café near the town square, Guy sipped his drink - equal parts bitter coffee and hot milk, with enough sugar to qualify as a dessert. An odd combination, yet the merchant had assured him it was something Sir Rimuru ordered regularly.
His first visit to Tempest had happened on a whim. Ramiris and Milim had praised the nation often enough, and after thousands of years, Guy had become adept at reading between the lines. Neither of them excelled at subtlety, but their enthusiasm had been genuine.
Tempest exerted a peculiar pull.
People arrived out of curiosity, stayed longer than intended, then found reasons to return. The pattern repeated itself too often to be dismissed as coincidence.
The effect extended far beyond tourists.
Weak monsters lived alongside predators that should have devoured them. Entire races coexisted in numbers that defied common sense. Nations that had spent centuries keeping their distance now sought cooperation. Former rivals traded, negotiated, and accepted invitations.
Even Diablo had sworn loyalty. A Primordial demon.
Guy had known all of them longer than most civilizations had existed. Loyalty beyond the bounds of contracts was not a word often associated with their kind.
Yet Diablo spoke of his master with something disturbingly close to devotion.
And then there was Veldora.
The Storm Dragon had once been a force of nature in its purest form. An endless cycle of destruction, death, and resurrection. Even Velzard, with all her strength, had never managed more than temporary solutions.
Now he spent afternoons reading. He ate skewered meat from market stalls. He told stories about his adventures to goblin children.
Guy's lips twitched. Velzard would never believe it.
His subordinates had reported all of it. Guy had dismissed the first reports as exaggeration and the second as incompetence. Eventually, he had seen it himself.
The square before him bustled with life.
Humans and monsters moved through the streets without hesitation. Merchants haggled. Adventurers spent their earnings. Children ran between stalls while vendors pretended not to notice.
None of it should have worked. And yet it did.
Different races. Different interests. Different histories.
No obvious common ground.
Except one.
The image of the slime surfaced unbidden.
Guy found that mildly irritating.
Ethereal and almost delicate in his adopted human form. Flexible and indestructible beneath it. Young by every reasonable standard and appearance, yet possessed of a mind sharp enough to navigate Demon Lords, nations, and dragons without being crushed by any of them.
A monster who spoke of coexistence as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Who ignored the careful balance Guy had maintained for centuries, then somehow began replacing it.
That possibility was considerably more concerning.
Guy took another sip of his drink.
The coffee remained too sweet. Not unpleasant, however.
Like Tempest itself.
What had begun as curiosity had become something more difficult to define. Every hour spent in the city revealed another piece of the puzzle. Festivals, roads, trade agreements, public works, entertainment, cuisine - individually intriguing but unremarkable. Together, they formed something unexpectedly effective.
Every path eventually led back to the same point.
Or rather, the same person.
Rimuru Tempest.
Interesting. Potentially troublesome. Potentially useful.
The categories were not mutually exclusive.
By the time Diablo entered the café, Guy had nearly finished his drink.
Good. There were still several places he wished to visit.
And a number of questions he intended to ask.