When I finally opened my eyes, the first things to greet me were the biting scent of antiseptic and the sensation of a bed so unnervingly soft it felt foreign. There was no desolation of ash here, nor the searing heat of roiling lava. There were only crisp white sheets and a tranquil silence, punctuated by the rhythmic, cool hum of the air conditioning.
"…Where am I…?"
I forced my creaking upper body upright. The excruciating agony that had felt like it was tearing my very soul apart had vanished as if it were a lie. Not a single burn mark remained, nor was there any trace of the wound that had rent my side open. Within me, the divine power that had been utterly drained was surging back like a rising river. So, this was the phenomenal resilience of a Campione—a Godslayer.
"Have you awakened, my King?"
Alessandro, who had been sitting in the chair beside the bed like a silent shadow, rose quietly. His blue eyes were brimming with relief, though they were clouded by a deep fatigue that suggested he hadn't slept for days.
"…How long has it been?"
My voice was heavy and raspy, but it no longer carried that grating, metallic sound of a dying man.
"A week has passed. While you were unconscious, we arranged to have you moved to the penthouse suite of this hotel to ensure your rest and security."
I turned my head to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows. There, beneath the silver glow of the moon, the blue waters of Waikiki Beach shimmered in perfect peace, showing no hint of the cataclysm that had recently swept through.
"And the situation?"
"Everything is being handled smoothly."
Alessandro began his report.
"The Bronze-Black Cross exerted its full influence to disguise the battle on the volcanic island as the 'worst seismic tsunami and volcanic eruption in recorded history.' We provided appropriate 'information' to the Hawaii state government and the U.S. military through our contacts to prevent chaos, and reconstruction in the damaged areas has already begun. As for the European magical world… they are in an absolute uproar. News that our new King has defeated two gods—the Storm God and the Volcano Goddess—in such rapid succession so soon after his ascension has left them in a state of utter shock. Letters praising Your Majesty’s achievements and requesting an audience are—"
"Enough of that."
I cut him off and climbed out of bed. Despite being asleep for a week, my body felt strangely refreshed. Is this what 'peak condition' feels like? I opened the mini-fridge and drained an entire bottle of water in one go.
"What about that old shaman?"
"The Kahuna is currently meeting with the island elders to finalize the containment measures. He asked me to relay his deepest gratitude to you, King."
"Right."
I gave a short reply and waved Alessandro toward the door.
"You should get out, too. That report was plenty. I want to be alone."
"But Your Majesty, you have not yet fully—!"
"I am the master of this body. I know my condition better than anyone. Get out."
At my firm tone, Alessandro hesitated for a moment before bowing deeply.
"…As you wish."
He exited the room. With the sound of the door clicking shut, a perfect, heavy silence returned to the suite.
Wearing nothing but a bathrobe, I stepped out onto the balcony. The warm but pleasant Hawaiian night breeze wrapped around me. The landscape before my eyes was as perfect as a postcard. Looking at the beach below, I doubted anyone down there knew that their world had almost turned into a literal hell.
I slumped into a plush outdoor sofa, retracing the steps of this absurd series of events.
I was dragged to Italy because of a coin toss.
I was lost at sea after being swept away by a rip current.
Somehow, I killed a god and became a Devil King.
Then, I came to Hawaii to reclaim my ruined vacation, only to end up killing two more gods while cleaning up the mess left behind by another Devil King.
"…Ha, seriously."
A hollow laugh escaped me.
"I went through all this hell and killed three gods, but what did I actually get? A ruined vacation, total-body muscle aches, and the annoying attention of every mage on the planet."
I clutched my head. What was I supposed to do now? Go back to Italy and play the 'King' I never wanted to be? Or should I ignore everything, return to Korea, and apply for my semester return as if nothing had happened?
Since becoming a Campione, I hadn't made a single choice of my own volition. I had simply been swept along by one exploding disaster after another. Suddenly, a profound sense of helplessness washed over me. What was the point of having the power to slay gods if I couldn't even control my own life?
"The view is excellent. And it’s just the right time for a late-night snack."
That's when a strange voice sounded from behind me.
What's more, it was the mechanical, synthesized voice of a man.
"!"
Chills ran down my spine as I bolted upright and spun around.
A 'presence' stepped out from the shadows of the balcony, having been there for who knows how long.
A massive black cloak with a high collar, and a mechanical full-face helmet embedded with several green lenses.
"Who are you?"
"Hahaha! Some people call me the hero, John Pluto Smith.
Others call me the Lord of the Underworld. Or,
I could simply introduce myself as your senior Campione—the one who protects these United States."
A jovial laugh echoed from inside the helmet. He had infiltrated my space like a phantom, mocking the hotel’s security and all the magical barriers that had been erected.
"As the guardian of the Pacific, the commotion you caused was quite a headache, but…"
He strode toward me and casually flipped open the pizza box I had ordered earlier. He picked up a slice, triggered a 'click' as the mouthplate of his helmet opened, and slid the pizza inside.
"I suppose I should thank you for preventing an even greater disaster. Consider this pizza my consultation fee."
"…That's my pizza."
"Don't sweat the small stuff, Seventh. More importantly, what's with that look? You have the face of a bewildered brat, not a King who has achieved the feat of toppling three gods."
At his words, my inner thoughts spilled out involuntarily.
"…It’s because I don’t know. I don't know what I'm supposed to do from here."
I slumped back onto the sofa.
"How do you people live? How… how is a Campione supposed to live?"
He was a senior who had become King long before me. There was a faint hope that he might actually have an answer.
But Smith shook his head firmly.
"I cannot show you that path."
The voice behind the helmet was no longer that of someone playing hero; it was the cold, arrogant tone of a true 'King.'
"The path of a King is something one carves for oneself. It is not something to be taught by another."
He finished the last of the pizza and stood up.
"However, I can offer you one piece of advice."
He looked down at me.
"Who were you? Before you killed a god, what kind of human were you? What did you do?"
"…I was just an ordinary university student."
"Then your path likely begins from that very place. Whether you sit upon a throne and command the world, protect a city as a hero, or lock yourself in a lab to hunt for truth… every King's path is an extension of the road they walked when they were still mortal."
With those words, he swept his cloak around him.
"Next time you plan on causing an uproar in my country, at least get prior authorization. Until next time!"
With a final remark, he vaulted over the balcony railing and vanished into thin air like a lie.
I stared blankly at the sky where he had disappeared for a long while.
The me from before I killed a god.
Min-jun Jeong, the ordinary college student.
The guy who worried about ruined vacations, student loans, and finding a job. That was me.
I fell into thought for a moment before standing up with renewed resolve. I went into the room and picked up my smartphone from the table. When I turned the screen on, a stupid photo with my friends—set as my wallpaper—greeted me.
Without hesitation, I opened the flight booking app.
Destination: Seoul Incheon (ICN).
"Alessandro."
I called out softly toward the door, and it opened instantly. I showed him the smartphone screen.
"Let's go back."
"…Understood. I will contact the Italian headquarters and prepare the private jet—"
"No."
I cut him off, my voice resolute.
"Not to Italy. To Korea. My vacation is over, but I need to restart my story from there."
It was my first command—given not as a confused novice, but as a 'King' who had finally chosen his own path.
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