I Came Back but the World is Still a Fantasy!?

A well-off family’s attempt at a home, or at least that was the sort of atmosphere that that house exuded, but what people didn’t know was that the person inside it was currently celebrating.

The house was spotlessly clean, yet there was a noticeable lack of trace of daily life. Despite the personal belongings and the accumulation of sun damage over the years, there was a sense of artificiality to it all that made the everything resemble a scene straight out of a model set.

On the ground floor could be found the spacious living room, which was connected to the kitchen. This was the only area with signs of life in the whole house.

Sitting on the high-end sofa that was perfectly positioned for viewing the large TV on the wall was a man in his forties. A cloud of purple smoke blew out of his lips.

He had natural blond hair, though some strands have already faded. He wore an amicable face belonging to that of an Englishman, but perhaps due to having just completed a significant task, there was a sense of satisfaction on that face.

Their target had showed some resistance, but everything was quiet now. Then again, failure was never an option the moment from the moment they decided to use that. Blocking it was impossible, so this sort of ending was a foregone conclusion.

His gaze turned toward the casement window that offered a glimpse of the garden, and he looked out at the chapel on the adjacent property through the wooden deck. The scene appeared perfectly ordinary, with no immediate signs of anything amiss, just the usual view he could observe from his house. Such a view deepened the smile on the man.

Then, his gaze shifted to a particular spot in the living room. That was not an object one would expect to find in a living room no matter the culture. A pedestal about the size of a motorbike with two rectangular metal tanks on either side. And affixed to that was an object that that appeared to be some form of anti-material rifle.

Numerous cables sprawled across the floor, connecting to a specialized power source in the basement and the large TV. On the screen, an overhead view of the chapel in the neighboring church could be seen, along with the words “Mission complete” right at the center. On the upper right corner of the screen were English letters that indicated there were no life signs remaining.

“If only you didn’t become a singer, then you wouldn’t have had to die in such a ruthless fashion. As the saying goes, the pheasant would not be shot if not for its cries.”

Her singing voice was nothing but an obstacle to them, so when the first assassination attempt failed, he decided to pull this trigger himself. It was unfortunate that in doing so he disregarded the orders from above. Consequently, someone to deal with him would soon appear. And consequently, this would be his last cigarette.

“───Are you talking about yourself?”

His very own grim reaper has come to claim his life, yet he didn’t show the slightest signs of panic.

Really, it was a group of grim reapers. A group of over 20 people had kicked down the door to make their way in.

Donned in simple exoskeletons of gray, this was clearly a combat unit. Yet the man didn’t so much as flinch and just smiled upon seeing them.

“Heh, care to accompany me?”

But the tall man – the only one in fatigues – only signaled to the others, and immediately, a battle began.

This was a Japanese house, a narrow space too ill-fit to serve as a battlefield, yet gun barrels emerged from out of the walls and the ceilings, and some of the furniture even turned out to be small drones.

Altogether, they launched an attack at their unwelcome guests, but the guests had expected that much and responded with composure.

Bullets of silver light shot out from their weapon terminals. Though the bullets they shot numbered fewer, they were still able to shoot down everything. All of the guns were destroyed, and in no more than 5 seconds, all of the defensive security were gone too.

The small drones came in all manners of shapes and sizes, from humanoids to canines, attacking with weapons just as varied, from photon fangs, to blunt weapons that have been disguised as potted plants, or deploying shields – physical and energy alike – to protect their master.

Yet the intruders merely swung their weapons despite being out of range, and the canine drones were riddled with holes, as though pierced by countless spears, while the humanoid drones were crushed along with their weapons, and the shield-type drones were inexplicably torn apart.

Such extensive security was unusual for a regular household, but the guests were even more abnormal, for not even one of those devices were able to lay a finger on them.

Every one of these men wore a metal tank on their backs, just like the ones in the living room. Similarly, thick tubes extended from these tanks, connecting to the weapons they wielded.

While the shapes and types differed, it was evident that they were using similar tech. As the man on the sofa beheld the silvery liquid filling the tubes, he smiled faintly, seemingly satisfied with this outcome.

“Wonderful. I’d expect as much from you. Though I’d say it’s such a waste to use such a powerful squad on the likes of one dissenter. Above all, you’re the one leading them… I suppose it’s an honor, Six?”

He spoke to the only man in the room not in armor. The man was slightly taller than 180cm, he had a well-toned physique and was dressed in a navy blue workman’s outfit. That man directed a somewhat disdainful gaze at the man sitting on the sofa.

If his hair, eye color, and facial features were to be believed, then he must have been an Eastern Asian in his thirties, but with his scarred and rugged face, any glare from him was sure to intimidate a normal person.

“To think that the top of the Mission Corps would come himself… That’s a nice gift for my trip to hell.”

“Hmph… How dare you run your mouth off when you interfered with our work.”

The man spoke quietly yet overbearingly. He was not pleased, and without intending to, the armed men that accompanied him cowered, yet the man seated on the sofa just shrugged his shoulders.

“Because you took the nearly completed prototype while we were still working on them, and because we also had to take into consideration the chance of you betraying us, we had to come here fully armed. Do you realize how much you’ve cost us? …To make it worse, there’s nothing to be gained in killing you.”

“That’s true… I’m sorry for your losses, though.”

“You should have seen this coming, Venom. You worked so hard to get to where you were, but now all of that has been put to waste… Not only did you make more work for us, you’re also practically dead now.”

The man referred to as Six sighed as he looked at the TV screen and the pedestal-mounted weapon. The information on the TV showed that everything was already over.

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