CHAPTER 25: THE SLIME'S QUESTION
"May I come in?"
The question was polite. Casual. The tone of someone asking to borrow a cup of sugar, not someone whose analytical skill could read lies at the molecular level.
I stepped aside.
Rimuru entered in humanoid form—blue hair, androgynous features, the body he'd fashioned from a certain adventurer whose soul now lived in his head as Great Sage. He moved through my kitchen with the easy confidence of someone who'd never entered a room they couldn't survive.
"Nice setup," he said, examining the prep station. "Bigger than I expected for a district kitchen."
"Rigurd approved the expansion after the feast program started."
"The cultural liaison thing. I read the reports." Rimuru settled onto a stool at the counter, elbows on the surface, chin in hands—the perfect image of friendly curiosity. "Impressive work. The Dwargon dinner especially."
I busied myself with tea preparation. Kept my hands moving. Gave my eyes something to focus on besides the most dangerous person who'd ever sat in my kitchen.
"I had help. Dorn's fermentation techniques, Mira's traditional recipes—"
"And your coordination. Your vision." Rimuru's eyes tracked my movements with an attention that felt heavier than it looked. "Haruna's reports are very complimentary. She says you think like an administrator but cook like an artist."
"Great Sage is analyzing me right now. Vocal patterns, heart rate, magicule fluctuations. Every word I say is being processed for deception markers."
"She's generous."
"She's accurate. I've learned to trust her assessments." Rimuru accepted the tea I offered. "So. The honey."
The question I'd been dreading since he appeared at my door.
"About that—"
"Milim is very particular," Rimuru continued, as if making casual conversation. "She's eaten in every nation on the continent. Destroyed several that didn't meet her standards." He smiled. "Not over food, obviously. But the point is, she's experienced. Hard to surprise."
"I noticed."
"Yet a hobgoblin cook in Tempest's eastern district made her demand seconds. Made her refuse other food until she got more." Rimuru sipped his tea. "That's interesting."
The word 'interesting' carried weight I couldn't measure.
"I got lucky with the ingredients."
"Lucky." Rimuru's expression didn't change. "You bought six jars of honey, two pots of crystallized wildflower, and a bottle of D-Grade royal jelly three days before Milim arrived. Before the announcement was public."
"He checked. Of course he checked. Probably had Souei's people trace my market purchases the moment Milim mentioned my name."
My heart rate climbed. I couldn't stop it. Great Sage would be noting that now—the spike in stress response, the slight tremor in my hands as I set down my own tea cup.
"I'm good at reading people," I said.
Not a lie. True, in fact, in ways that had nothing to do with this conversation.
"I watched Lady Milim at the arrival. Her energy, her movements. She seemed like someone who'd appreciate something sweet and rich."
Also true. I had watched her. I had observed her energy. The fact that I'd known about her preferences from a show in another world—that part stayed unspoken.
Rimuru studied me for a long moment.
"Huh."
The syllable hung in the air, carrying implications I couldn't parse.
"Great Sage flagged something. The partial truths passed—they were true—but the analysis isn't complete. He's filing this for later review."
"Rigurd mentioned something else," Rimuru said, setting down his tea. "He said you're an otherworlder. Someone who remembered skills from a past life."
The cover story. The explanation I'd established during my first weeks, built into the system's design for handling my anomalous capabilities.
"That's right."
"I know what that's like." Rimuru's expression softened slightly—genuine understanding, not performance. "Coming from somewhere else. Having knowledge that doesn't fit the world you're in. Trying to figure out how to use what you know without standing out too much."
The words hit closer than he could possibly realize.
"It's... complicated," I said.
"It always is." He stood, moving toward the door with the fluid grace of something that wasn't quite human and never had been. "Thanks for the tea. And the conversation."
"Lord Rimuru—"
"Just Rimuru is fine." He paused at the threshold. "I'll probably check back sometime. I like understanding the people who work hard for Tempest."
Then he was gone.
I sat on the kitchen floor for ten minutes after he left.
My hands were shaking. Not from magicule exposure—my AC had handled Rimuru's presence without strain, nothing like the overwhelming pressure of Milim's aura.
This was adrenaline. Pure, human adrenaline, the kind that came from lying (by omission) to someone who could analyze truth at a fundamental level and had every reason to dig deeper.
"He's going to check back. He said it casually, like a friendly neighbor promising to visit, but the meaning was clear. I'm on his list now. A person of interest. Someone whose anomalies warrant ongoing observation."
I thought about the web of attention that had grown around me since arriving in Tempest.
Souei's surveillance—intelligence interest triggered by the Regional bulletin.
Shuna's investigation—professional curiosity about my cooking methods.
And now Rimuru himself—personal interest from the sovereign, backed by an analytical skill that logged everything for future reference.
Three separate threads converging toward the same conclusion: Tyler Barrett was not what he appeared to be.
The revelation was coming. I could feel it building like pressure before a storm.
The only question was whether I'd choose the moment, or whether the moment would choose me.
The TBP feed pulsed.
[Bulletin Pending]
[Content: "The sovereign visited the eastern district cook for personal conversation regarding culinary capabilities."]
[Priority: Local]
[Relevant Parties: 8 recipients]
I checked my SP: 6 remaining.
The bulletin would tell people that Rimuru had come to my kitchen. That alone would generate questions—why would Tempest's leader visit a cook?
I couldn't afford more visibility. Not now.
[Suppress Bulletin? Cost: 10 SP]
Six wasn't enough.
I watched the bulletin fire, helpless to stop it.
[Bulletin Delivered: 8 recipients confirmed]
Eight more people who knew Rimuru had visited me personally.
Eight more threads in the web that was slowly, steadily closing around my secrets.
Want more? The story continues on Patreon!
If you can't wait for the weekly release, you can grab +10, +15, or +20 chapters ahead of time on my Patreon page. Your support helps me keep this System running!
Read ahead here: [ patreon.com/system_enjoyer ]