My Castle received a visitor.
"Yer the strong one 'round here, ain'tcha? Fight me!"
The man had a body so taut it might have been assembled out of nothing but muscle.
Shaved head, thick brows, sharp upturned eyes—every inch the impression of a man who loves a fight—and the black combat suit made clear that the impression was not merely an impression.
In his previous life he had belonged to a warrior race that hired itself out as mercenaries across the galaxy.
The Goddess, having apparently given up on Earthlings, had gone and reincarnated an alien.
"Now, wait. Don't rush."
That was not me speaking.
Today's visitor had come with a bonus attached.
"O-oh. Sure. If you say so."
"Oi. You, sprawled out on that throne—become my servant! And then hand that seat over to yours truly!"
A boy in a school uniform. Strong words, gloomy looks.
His black hair was parted down the middle and grown long enough to poke him in the eye, with the sides and the nape clipped short.
This was one of the students from the class reincarnated into Nation Y—the fourth of them, in other words, to visit My Castle.
When I dropped the monolith on Nation Y, he happened to be on his way here and had already entered the Demon Realm, which spared him being crushed flat with the rest.
I was of course aware of it, but he was going to turn up at My Castle regardless, so I left him alone.
With the Goddess's Gift, [The Power to Have Any One Wish Granted], he had become [A Charisma That Manipulates People Freely Through Words].
This property is not the sort of thing that lets him issue orders and have people obey anything at all. But it does let him bring over to his side even those who carry countermeasures against mind-seizing sorcery, and even those whose sense of self is too strong to sway to another's words—and it makes them willing to accommodate his demands to a certain degree.
"Oi, did you not hear me? Become my servant!"
I had been ignoring the fourth student, so he repeated his demand.
Naturally, being Absolutely Superior, there is no possibility of my losing to this creature's charisma.
"Why? Why should I place myself beneath the likes of you?"
His charisma was having no effect, and yet the confidence remained pasted firmly across his face.
It is all very well that an inferiority complex flipped inside out, became a strength, and gave him confidence—but he had let it go to his head until his eyes were clouded over entirely.
"I have a great many underlings with miraculous powers. Defy me and they will come at you all at once. And above all, the one standing here is my strongest underling. Some nobody like you—"
"Ah—ah—stop. That's enough."
I cut the brat's spiel short.
I had gone out of my way to spare him a little time when I would sooner have disposed of him with no delay at all. I was under no obligation to lend an ear to any further self-infatuation.
"You weren't listening properly when the Goddess explained things, were you. The three who came before you understood what I am, so they at least knew their place well enough to approach me accordingly. Compared with them, you…"
"What's that supposed to mean? Why are you able to talk down to yours truly like that?"
That was the moment the fourth student first noticed his charisma was producing no effect.
The stupidity was so complete that his twisted expression did not even register as a pleasure. If anything it was irritating.
"I am [The Omniscient, Omnipotent, Strongest, Invincible, Absolutely Superior One]. Do you imagine something like you could stand above a being who far transcends even gods?"
The fourth student went pale.
The warrior-race man waited quietly at his side.
"B-but I have a great many powerful underlings—"
Again I cut the fourth student off.
"By 'underlings' you mean your classmates, yes? They are all dead. Every last one. Your teacher included."
"Huh, no way… seriously…? But this guy here—"
Beads of sweat had gathered on the forehead his center part left exposed.
"I know more about him than you do. And you? What about you yourself? Your friend is the strong one—so why are you the one putting on airs? You get people like this, don't you: my parent's a politician, my husband runs a company, and off they go, lording it over you with their relatives and their friends. But the person actually saying it isn't great in the slightest and isn't the least bit impressive. Don't get confused. You haven't got a strong man for a lackey. You're the strong man's lackey."
Teeth in his lip. Fists shaking.
And then the fourth student dropped the pretense entirely, jabbed a finger straight at me, and gave the warrior-race man an order.
"Kill him! Go!"
The sheer speed with which he abandoned all shame was, I grant you, charismatic.
The warrior-race man took one step forward, and I said a word.
"Stop. I shall deal with the small fry first. Your turn comes after."
The warrior-race man drew back the foot he had put forward and sat down on the floor.
"You can't be serious!"
The fourth student thrust his head forward, eyes round.
Understandable enough. It had never once occurred to him that the warrior-race man who was supposedly his underling would take someone else's word over his.
"You believe you brought him here by the force of your charisma. He was coming either way. Indeed, he is the one I have been waiting for today. You were not invited. Get lost."
I transported the fourth student into a sewer pipe in Nation Z.
It is full of filthy water, so his only remaining option is to drown while drinking it.
With the small fry disposed of, I addressed the warrior-race man.
"Sorry to keep you. Your business here was to fight me, yes? As I said: I am [The Omniscient, Omnipotent, Strongest, Invincible, Absolutely Superior One]. Do you still want to fight?"
I ask, but were he to say he had changed his mind, I would not let him leave.
Not that I need to plan for that branch—I already know what he is going to answer.
There. The unpleasant part is over. The fun part begins.