Brief Homecoming - Guns, Letters, and Shadows
The familiar—nay, almost endearing—sight of our front door filled my vision. Our house sat suspiciously in an affluent detached housing complex in Tokyo.
'Tried it just in case, and it worked.' It was a spell that could pierce most spatial barriers in the game unless the target specialized in space magic, so I'd been hopeful—and sure enough, it succeeded.
'The Demon King has weaker spatial control than a level 100 player specialized in space abilities.' Memo. I made a mental note and scanned the house for presences.
This size of place didn't even require focused senses; I could grasp the interior naturally, like holding it in my hand.
'Mom's not here.' Perfect. I'd timed it for when she'd be out working, but if she'd been home, I planned to go invisible.
How did I know Japanese time on Earth from an underground dungeon in another dimension? 'The status window has more features than I thought.' It displayed times for both worlds.
Anyway, that wasn't important. 'Hmm...'
As I stepped from the entryway into the house, my reflection caught in the shoe cabinet mirror.
My face was nearly a skull, skin pallid, and while I wasn't ogre-sized like that gravebing monster with its muscular build, my height was about my original, but the overall look was completely different.
'Dress code doesn't match.' With that thought, I invoked Tuning Dead, a skill from my [Undead Meister] class, to revert to my original form.
Tuning Dead
A customization window popped up in my mind, just like when crafting elite undead.
It was an advanced version of Corpse Sculpting from Corpse Carver, which I used to tweak my elite undead's appearances. This let me alter not just new undead but existing ones or even corpses—far beyond mere looks, like adding wings from the back, turning hands into blades or other weapons. It was a highly versatile skill for creating entirely new features and traits.
The description made it sound perfect for direct combat, but in my past life, my summoner-focused necromancer only used it for survival boosts or ally support.
And now, in reality, its versatility had skyrocketed.
Shuruk.
I adjusted the Nzambi option in the customization window to my original appearance. The change happened instantly.
Krduk!!
Kduk. I finally regained my true form.
Or... if my past life's look was the original, wasn't this my true form now too? Whatever.
"Ahh, finally." A sigh of overwhelming relief escaped me, recalling the humiliations of late. My voice shifted from the creepy undead rasp—like hundreds of bugs crawling in my ears—back to my current life's tone.
"Ahh, this parasitic brother-in-law face... I missed it."
Swipe. I touched my jaw in the mirror. Compared to my past life, it was quite delicate. My skin had returned from deathly gray pallor to proper human color.
"Au!!"
"Eu!"
"Hua~"
Sruruk.
As my form changed, Kangjang, Dena, and Mari clung to me.
Swipe, swipe.
Rub, rub.
Nuzzle, nuzzle.
Squish, squish.
Fluff, fluff.
They slathered themselves over my altered body like slugs in heat, claiming it back with sticky fervor.
"Churp."
"Lick."
"Chop."
They even started licking and sucking at spots all over my body.
"Nice."
Basking in their service, I headed inside, not forgetting to cast "[Clean]" first to tidy up.
Undead didn't excrete waste, but after days of nonstop sex, we all looked the mess we were.
Once freshened, "Spare uniforms and clothes are still here." I grabbed the extras from my room, including my school uniform.
Since falling into the labyrinth via rift, I'd basically been naked—my old clothes shredded.
I decided on the uniform; no need for uniforms anymore, so rough handling was fine.
"Uu~"
"Ue~"
"Ahu♥"
I tried dressing myself, but the Living Death girls insisted on serving me, so I let them.
'Beauties waiting on me wherever I go. Feels like being an emperor.' Even in my past life as a rich guy, it wasn't like this.
Once dressed, I tossed the rest into my inventory and got to the main purpose of this visit.
"If I write it like this..."
Dear Mother,
This is your son, Park Seokgil. I know you're worried sick since I vanished, but don't be—I'm doing fine.
You've always nagged me to get a girlfriend, and I've got them now—in spades.
But coming back to you right away is tough. Bluntly put, I suffered massive humiliation, and now I have debts to collect.
Yeah, some bastards need smashing. Probably take about a year. I'll wrap it up fast and return, so no worries.
Oh, and while I'm gone, don't sweat money—I'll leave the bank account.
Buy those luxury kimonos you love, tea ceremony sets, calligraphy supplies, and—hell if I know why you like that boring stuff—catch lots of kabuki shows. Treat yourself to good food.
From your loving son,
Park Seokgil
First order: leave a letter for Mom, who's always a bit scatterbrained with a screw loose somewhere. This would ease her mind.
Swipe, thud.
As written, I placed the anonymous account details and password—plundered from Ikeda Shinji's family goons—on the desk with the letter.
'Oh, and...'
Clang.
I wondered if Mom could even cash it properly, but with so much, I added a sack of ducats—currency and gold coins from Aurelia Fantasia—from my inventory.
'Should've grabbed items instead of these useless yellow rocks...' Game powers but no base or summons...
With a sigh, I moved to the next task.
Bam!!!
I headed to a secluded spot in the nearby rear mountain only I knew and tore open the earth with Ground Rift magic.
"Oh, still intact." Like the account cash, these were guns I'd gently rearranged from Ikeda Shinji's goons.
Mostly pistols, a few rifles, one small bazooka, thousands of rounds, some grenades—condition solid.
"Here, Kangjang."
Thud!!
"Uu?"
I tossed a pistol to nearby Kangjang. "You know how to use it?"
"Uu!"
Click!! Click!! Thud!
She instantly ejected the mag, inspected, reassembled, and chambered a round.
Clack!! "Au." Perfect Weaver stance.
"Alright, Dena and Mari too."
Whoosh.
Thud.
"Ue!!"
"Hua~"
Handed guns to the rest.
Click, click!! They checked with expert hands, assuming flawless textbook grips.
Obviously, their originals never touched guns—their world, Mundus, had none.
So how? 'My memories, naturally.' Undead shared their creator's memories upon creation. Those perfect techniques were my past-life mercenary staples.
'Though high-grade undead don't need guns anyway.' Kangjang's casual swing outpowers a tank cannon—I've punched tanks barehanded, so I know.
"Keep 'em as souvenirs."
"Au~"
"Ue~"
"Huhu~"
Gifted the three pistols to my beauties, inventoried the rest.
'Modern weapons are great for massacring weaklings, so arm mid-grade undead. Or spread blueprints in the other world?' Wouldn't monsters suffer more?
'With my powers, a tweak might make 'em viable.' Worth pondering.
Anyway, second task done. Next:
"Come forth."
Sususuk.
My shadow writhed at the command, splitting into a dozen tendrils that rose upward.
Soon, a giant of shadow—ogre height, dozens of eyes embedded—emerged.
"O..oo.."
"E..ah... ugh..."
My Shadow Walkers. I issued mental commands via our link.
Susuk.
They melted back to shadows and moved out. To normals, ownerless shadows racing over ground and objects would look eerie.
I recalled their orders: some guard Mom just in case; the rest hunt down Minamoto Seiji (Rakushuin academy chairman and high school principal) and Minamoto Katsu—grandpa and dad to the twins I'd make suffer soon—and kill them painfully.
'Those fuckers ignored or enabled the twins' bullying; Principal Katsu even quietly aided "for his kids."' Plus, they raised shit kids—one who loves tormenting people, the other an incestuous siscon.
I'd planned to crush them pre-isekai, but not kill personally. Now? Shadow undead made it clean and supernatural.
'That settles the third task...'
Finally: "Alright, girls, let's go."
"Au!!"
"Ue!!"
"Hua~"
The Living Death girls responded instantly. We moved fast.
Last stop was far: north, toward North Korea. Goal: 'Steal nukes!'