Chapter 8: Naked Man
"Aqua!!!"
A roar filled with endless humiliation and anger echoed through the hallway of a luxurious mansion in Axel.
Satou Kazuma had just finished a hot shower, ready to enjoy a rare moment of peace.
He was shirtless, with only a bath towel loosely wrapped around his waist, water droplets sliding down his not-so-muscular physique.
Everything should have been perfect, until he caught sight of himself in the mirror.
Scrawled across his stomach in thick black ink were jagged, uneven letters: "Excalibur, the Tiny Sword of Promise."
At the very end of the writing, a meticulously drawn arrow pointed directly at the most… sensitive part hidden beneath his towel.
There was no doubt this had to be the doing of one of his three deadbeat teammates: Aqua, Megumin, or Darkness.
They must have taken advantage of the time he accidentally fell off a tree during a monster fight and was unconscious after reviving. That bunch of idiots, always causing trouble and adding to his debt—what else could they do?
Veins popped out on Kazuma's forehead as he felt his sanity snapping one by one.
He had to confront them. He needed to make them understand that even as teammates, no one scribbles humiliating and misleading messages on another person's stomach.
He yanked open the door and stormed out, cursing all the while. "What the hell's Excalibur, the Sword of Promise! Today you'll learn the true meaning of gender equality fists!"
But the familiar sensation of the wooden floor beneath his feet never came.
Instead, his feet met the cold, hard asphalt of a street.
"Huh?"
The anger on Kazuma's face froze.
Blinking, he realized he was no longer in his mansion corridor. Nor was he in that strange otherworldly town he had grown to love and hate.
What came into view were countless giant buildings made of steel and glass that soared into the sky.
Gigantic electronic screens covered the walls, playing vibrant advertisements in English. The dazzling lights and color shifts made his eyes hurt.
The piercing sounds of car horns, the cacophony of voices in various languages, music coming from who-knows-where... countless unfamiliar sounds merged into a torrent, washing over his eardrums.
The air reeked of exhaust fumes mixed with the scent of hot dogs.
Countless blond, blue-eyed people, black-haired, brown-eyed people, people of all skin colors passed by him, each hurrying along, their faces bearing the coldness and fatigue unique to big cities.
Kazuma slowly, stiffly lifted his head. On a massive billboard, a blonde woman beamed brightly at a bottle of red soda.
"This... where is this..."
He was utterly dumbstruck.
After spending so long in that medieval-like otherworld without TV or the internet, he had nearly forgotten he had once been a modern man.
This scene in front of him… wasn't this… Times Square in New York City?!
Bits of memory long buried bubbled to the surface.
As his brain struggled to process the overwhelming sensory overload, a sudden breeze swept past.
Kazuma felt a chill at his waist.
The loosely tied towel slipped silently to the ground.
"Huh?"
Time seemed to slow to a crawl.
The surrounding noise appeared to vanish instantly.
The bustling crowd froze in place as if under a spell. Countless eyes converged on the naked Asian man standing in the middle of the square.
One second.
Two seconds.
"Pff—"
Someone laughed first.
Then followed a wave of shocked gasps, giggles, and open chatter.
"Oh my god! Look at that guy!"
"Pervert! In broad daylight! (/ω＼)"
"Is he… cosplaying?"
"Check him out, that weirdo!"
"What's written on his stomach? Excalibur?"
"Good heavens, how dare he do this in Times Square?"
"Call the police! There's a flasher here!"
Many people immediately pulled out their phones to capture this rare spectacle, flashlights firing off in a chaotic rhythm.
A stylish young woman whispered to her friend. Even though they kept their voices low, Kazuma's battle‑hardened adventurer senses picked up every word without fail.
"Hey, look… isn't it kind of… small?"
"Shh! Keep it down. But… it really does look tiny. Hehe, though tiny can be cute."
"But doesn't that mean it's… useless?"
Boom.
Kazuma's world drained from full color to a bleak mix of black, white, and gray.
He froze where he stood, completely petrified, like a tragic statue displayed before the entire world. He could vividly see the humiliating ink across his stomach, and the cursed arrow pointing straight at his most vulnerable spot.
It was over.
Social death.
No, global death.
By tomorrow, or maybe just a few minutes from now, videos titled "Shocking! Naked Pervert Appears in Times Square, His 'Excalibur' Size Will Blow Your Mind!" or "Twisted Human Nature or Moral Collapse? The Naked Times Square Man and His Unspeakable Secret!" would spread across every corner of the internet.
"Ahhh!!! YAMETE!!!"
A scream filled with pure despair tore out of Kazuma's throat.
He snapped out of his petrified state, hurriedly snatching the fallen towel off the ground and wrapping it around his waist. One hand clutched it with desperate strength, while the other flailed uselessly in front of him, as if that could shield him from the endless barrage of smartphone cameras.
"Stop filming! Don't record this! It's all a misunderstanding!"
His frantic shouting only made him seem even more suspicious, almost like a deranged performer, drawing even more attention and even more phones.
"Hey! You! The naked guy! Hold it right there!"
Two NYPD officers in blue uniforms noticed the commotion and pushed through the crowd while calling for backup on their radios.
Police!
Kazuma's scalp tingled with dread the moment he saw the uniforms.
Arrested? Booked? Registered as a public flasher?
No. Absolutely not!
His survival instincts exploded. Every sneaking skill, every escape reflex he'd developed as an adventurer kicked in at full force.
"This is all that useless goddess's fault! Why did she revive me?! I was better off dead!"
With one final wail of anguish, he spun around and bolted through the thinnest part of the crowd.
"Stop! NYPD! Stop right there!"
The officers' shouts thundered behind him.
Thus began a high‑speed naked-man chase at the busiest intersection of the most famous city in the world.
Kazuma sprinted while clutching his towel for dear life, muttering under his breath between panicked gasps.
"Why is this happening?! Isn't my Luck stat EX‑tier?! Does crossing dimensions reset it?!"
"Officer! Stop chasing me! I'm not a pervert! I'm the victim! Look at my stomach, I have proof!"
He wanted to point at his stomach, but doing so risked dropping the towel, so all he could do was run with tears in his eyes. His adventurer‑trained agility worked at full capacity as he darted left and right through the packed sidewalks, slipping through gaps like a greased eel.
Pedestrians shrieked and jumped aside, turning the chase into a chaotic mix of screams and whistles.
Kazuma felt his lungs burning. He had never been this humiliated, not even when he was chased by a dragon or hit with a death curse from the Headless Knight. Nothing compared to the soul‑crushing despair of today.
He swore that if he ever got back, he'd make those three idiots understand what real divine punishment looked like.
No idea how long he ran, but eventually, he slipped into a narrow alley, hidden in the shadows. The sirens and shouting were muffled by the tall buildings around him.
Kazuma collapsed against a cold brick wall, gasping for breath. His whole body trembled, whether from exhaustion or fury, he didn't know. He slumped onto the ground beside several reeking trash bins.
At last… a moment of safety.
He glanced down. The towel was still in place. The humiliating ink on his stomach was still painfully visible. The memory of it made his face twist in shame.
"Damn it… damn it all…"
Just as he was wallowing in self-loathing and despair for the future, a soft blue light suddenly appeared before him.
Kazuma jerked his head up, eyes sharpening in alarm.
The light formed rapidly into a translucent, high‑tech holographic interface.
[Congratulations to Guardian Faction Player Satou Kazuma for successfully descending into the Marvel World.]
[Detected player action: Performing "performance art" in Times Square, triggering a large‑scale public disturbance. Reputation gained: 10,000.]
[Detected player action: Due to "special size" issues, attracting intense psychological damage and scrutiny from the crowd. Personal notoriety reaches unprecedented levels. Reputation gained: 10,000.]
[Current Total Reputation Points: 20,000.]
"…Huh?"
"Kisama… what kind of cursed reputation is this?! I don't want any of it! You stupid system!!!"