Derathmogrehz
The age of my reign may have dimmed in the other world, but don't get it twisted. I didn't fall. I simply woke up in this flimsy human shell again. Yeah yeah, Mikami Satoru, office drone, stabbed on the sidewalk like some background extra. Pathetic. Embarrassing. If someone brings it up again, I might actually combust.
But I'm not dying like that twice. Absolutely not. I still have her. The one who pretends she's all logical and emotionless. The one who huffs in my head every time I call her by name.
Ciel.
She's an manas , my partner, sure, but she's also my constant, terrifyingly perfect partner who nags me about "inefficiency" every three seconds. And I... ugh, fine, I rely on her. A tiny bit. Not that I'd say that out loud. Ever.
Trapped in a world with no magicules, no nation of monsters to bow their heads, no absurd overpowered allies... all I have is this weak, annoyingly mortal body. So I'll reshape it. Break it. Rebuild it. Make it something that can keep up with the monster I used to be. My training is brutal, intense, and yes, I complain about it, but shut up. It's not like I'm doing it because she told me to or anything.
If the world thinks it's peaceful, that's its own delusion. While everyone else sleeps, I grind myself past my limits. I'll surpass even the version of me that was crowned Demon Lord. I'll make this pathetic reality kneel without even knowing why.
And if I chant a few chūnibyō spells under my breath?
It's called preparation.
Not cringe.
You wouldn't understand.
I'm Satoru, Rimuru, whatever name the universe tries to chain me with. And I'm just getting started.
Not that I care if anyone recognizes it or anything. Hmph.