Chapter 25 Ordinary Ways of Travel
Kusanagi Godou, nicknamed "Scum-dou," has a personality described as saying one thing while doing another—a textbook case of a tsundere. In the timeline where Hikigaya didn't exists, he was originally the first male protagonist among the God Slayers.
He remembered hearing a saying before he transmigrated: a man who is only kind to one woman is called a warm guy, but if he's kind to everyone, he's just a central heating system!
Leaving aside his inexplicable sense of justice, this male protagonist who considers himself a normal person and appears principled in many ways behaves more like a monkey in heat. He perfectly embodies the arrogance of a God Slayer, and in some aspects, even surpasses Voban.
Especially with that whole "obviously violent but acting like a savior" attitude—it really spoils your appetite when you're trying to eat.
So, to preserve his ability to enjoy meals in the future, Hikigaya thought it best if this guy doesn't enter the rank of God Slayer, and instead pursue his promising career as central heating.
With such thoughts in mind, Hikigaya was now en route to Sardinia. At present, he was already enjoying the Mediterranean scenery.
As one of the oldest seas in the world, the Mediterranean has nourished a string of coastal civilizations since ancient times—Crete, Greece, Carthage, Rome—all names familiar to posterity.
Even the ancient Egyptians, who disliked the sea, acknowledged the greatness of the Mediterranean, calling it the "Great Green," although they also believed seawater to be the bodily fluid of the god Set...
Hikigaya was currently on a large ferry. It was more like a cruise ship, with six-deck-high residential sections, and equipped with restaurants, bars, and a movie theater. There was even an open-air swimming pool on the deck. It was basically a hotel on the sea. From his position, he could gaze at the vast expanse of the sea.
He lay back on a lounge chair beside the pool. From here, one could see bikini-clad girls strolling around or playing in the water.
However, all of these girls were without exception either from or employed by Yomi. They had been specially arranged by them to serve Hikigaya onboard. Two of them were even familiar faces.
"Lord Hachiman, that place looks really fun. May I go show off a little over there?"
From the water surfaced the overly energetic Rachel Stanley, who then swam to Hikigaya's feet. Her swimsuit was bold and daring. She leaned on the pool's edge, her full chest barely restrained by two fragile-looking strings and a thin, transparent fabric. Through the water, her firm, rounded hips were even visible.
On her face was a hopeful expression.
It was true that she and the other girls were arranged by Yomi, but the ship itself was not—because Hikigaya had rejected the original vessel they arranged. In his words, he had no interest in sailing with a group of muscle-bound, intimidating men.
In hindsight, that comment might've been a bit too open to interpretation. Yomi responded by finding him a cruise ship... and sending in a bunch of girls.
At this moment, being questioned, Hikigaya slightly lifted himself, glanced down, and took in Rachel Stanley's deep cleavage in a single look.
"Oh, do as you please," he said after appreciating the view, silently scoring her a 90 in his heart, and gesturing "go ahead."
Some girls were just for looking at, not for touching.
This was a discernment Hikigaya believed he possessed—unless one day he lost his mind, turned into a monkey in heat, and decided to forcefully build a crystal harem with God Slayer powers.
At least for now, he had no such heavy tastes. In fact, he was doing his best to avoid having too many people close to him.
The life journey of a God Slayer is filled with uncertainty—any day could be the last. But it's also possible to live on long after all one's contemporaries have died.
Humans are fragile. There are simply too many things in the world that can end their lives. To put it bluntly, they are not suited to be companions of a God Slayer.
The perspective of a transmigrator doesn't always bring good things. He couldn't possibly treat all this with the mentality of an ordinary teenager. On the contrary, the identity of a God Slayer had only deepened the disconnect between him and this world.
As he became more aware of how overwhelming and unrestrained his power was in human society, the negative emotions buried deep within him since transmigrating grew harder to suppress. Hikigaya's personality had gradually become warped, more unrestrained, and increasingly indifferent to others' feelings.
But on the flip side of this behavior was an overwhelming loneliness—one no one could soothe. Not even his family. In fact, the existence of this world's version of his family only made him more anxious and restless.
In short, aside from mythology and authorities, fewer and fewer things could spark his interest now.
With no interest, there was no attention. One familiar face after another began to blur in his mind.
"This really isn't a good sign…" he muttered as he lay back in the chair, basking in the sunlight.
"Oh? Even one with the might to slay gods considers this a bad omen? Now you have my attention."
A pleasant female voice reached his ears. Without warning, Kushinada Mikumo—one of the titans of the Yomi—appeared beside him.
This old-school "demon-fist" woman had fashioned a bikini by simply wrapping cloth into a three-point suit. It was such an outdated look, but Hikigaya couldn't in good conscience give her anything less than a perfect score.
Her exposed shoulders and neck were full and smooth, especially her massive, yet elastic breasts—the visual impact was undeniable. Her hips were firm and round, and below her supple waist, her long legs naturally drew the eyes upward with just a glance.
"That kind of look is quite rude, you know," she said. "But given your youthful vigor, I can understand. That Western girl couldn't satisfy your tastes?"
Kushinada Mikumo sat down cross-legged beside his lounge chair, radiating an aura of total martial-arts integration between body and spirit.
"Don't make it sound like teenagers don't think about anything besides sex," Hikigaya replied, retracting his evaluative gaze.
"By the way, what are you guys really here for? As I recall, all I asked for was a 'normal' means of transportation."
"We did follow that request," Mikumo said. "It's just that with a different target, the definition of 'normal' changes—especially when the target is a Demon King."
She explained: "Take Europe for example—its powerful magical societies have accumulated wealth and political influence for hundreds, even thousands of years. The resources at their disposal far exceed those of warriors. If they received your request, they'd stray even further from your understanding of 'normal.'"
"That's a beautiful way of changing the subject," Hikigaya said, lying on the chair, eyes closed, his big feet swaying in the sun. "So, did you come here to slay gods? That island probably has three deities right now. I came for them."
"As expected of a god-slaying Demon King—to reach that conclusion without any intel." Mikumo expressed admiration, then added, "But I have no such ambition. What I wish to see is the way you look when battling a god."
She sounded quite serious, like she meant it. But Hikigaya just chuckled a few times, then turned over, not even bothering to look at her anymore.
What a load of crap.
Whatever.
If he had that much free time to waste on small talk, he might as well rest and recharge.
Hikigaya closed his eyes and soon fell into a deep sleep.