Kaito's footsteps barely made a sound on the slick cobblestone streets of the narrow alley. The air was thick with the scent of decay, a sour mix of urine and rot that clung to the damp, crumbling walls. The slums pulsed with a harsh, jagged energy—alive in ways that felt almost cruel. Shouts and laughter echoed from behind peeling walls, sharp and unsettling. Somewhere, a bottle shattered. A muffled cry broke through the chaos, and the low sounds of a brawl—drunken thugs exchanging blows and curses—drifted from the direction of a broken streetlight.
Kaito stayed in the shadows, eyes flicking from one potential threat to the next. His ribs ached from the beating earlier, a dull throb that reminded him of his vulnerability. His stomach growled, empty and hollow, but stopping wasn't an option—not yet. Not until he figured out where he was.
First priority: figure out where I am.
Each step was calculated, careful. His hand hovered near the knife tucked under his jacket, the blade close enough to offer some comfort. The slums were unpredictable, and a man with the wrong look could disappear without a trace.
Flickers of movement caught his attention—hunched figures wrapped in filthy rags, faces gaunt from hunger, eyes sunken with a kind of resignation. Some of them scavenged through piles of garbage, while others sat motionless, their expressions distant, as if they'd already given up on the world around them.
Then, Kaito's gaze landed on a boy.
He was sitting against a rusted barrel, his legs crossed beneath him. The boy was so thin it was hard to tell where his clothes ended and his skin began. His bare feet were cracked and dirt-streaked, and his tattered clothes hung loosely, patched together with ragged scraps of cloth. He couldn't have been older than ten.
Kaito slowed his pace, eyes narrowing. The boy's gaze locked on him, wary but not frightened—strangely calm in a place like this.
He's seen worse than me.
Kaito crouched a few feet away, just close enough to talk but far enough to keep a safe distance. "Hey."
The boy flinched at the sound of his voice, his hand darting to his side, as though expecting a weapon. But he didn't run. That was a good sign.
Kaito kept his tone casual, low enough to avoid drawing attention. "What's this place?"
The boy blinked, then tilted his head as though the question itself were absurd. "...The slums."
Kaito suppressed a groan. Genius kid. "Yeah, figured that out. What city is this? What country?"
The boy frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Orario."
Kaito's heart skipped a beat. Orario.
The name hit him like a physical blow, the air suddenly feeling thinner, colder. His mind raced. Orario. The city of adventurers. The city where the Dungeon lay buried deep beneath the earth. The city where gods walked among mortals, and where power defined a person's worth. He'd read about it in books, imagined it in stories. But this wasn't a story.
His throat went dry. "Orario. As in... the city with the Dungeon?"
The boy raised an eyebrow. "How do you not know that?"
Kaito opened his mouth, then shut it. His pulse thudded against his skull as the weight of the reality settled over him. This was real.
The boy stared at him, waiting for an answer, but Kaito could barely form a coherent thought. His old life—lectures, part-time jobs, city lights—seemed a distant, fading memory, slipping away by the second.
Finally, the boy spoke again, his voice tinged with an odd mixture of curiosity and disdain. "You're not from here, are you?"
Kaito hesitated, then gave a small shake of his head. He could lie, say he was just passing through, but the truth was, he was lost. And lying wouldn't change that.
"...No."
The boy exhaled sharply, then studied Kaito with a critical eye, as if sizing him up. "You're gonna die if you keep wandering around like that."
Kaito arched an eyebrow. "And you care because...?"
The boy scowled, shifting his weight, obviously unimpressed. "I don't. But I've seen people like you before—lost, confused. They wander around, get caught by slavers or worse, and the slums eat them up real quick."
Kaito's body tensed at the mention of slavers. He'd nearly been captured just hours ago, and if this kid was right, that wasn't an isolated incident.
"So, what?" Kaito asked, his voice flat. "You're gonna save me?"
The boy rolled his eyes. "Not save you. But if you're dumb enough to get caught, you'll just cause trouble for the rest of us."
Kaito's smirk faded. The kid wasn't wrong. He knew how this world worked—this wasn't just a place for the desperate; it was a hunting ground. The weak were prey, and the strong either ruled or disappeared.
Kaito exhaled slowly, thoughts racing. He had to be smarter than this. Stronger. If this was really Orario, then he needed to start thinking like someone who belonged here. Someone who understood the stakes.
"What's your name?" he asked.
The boy hesitated, as if debating whether or not to answer. After a long moment, he muttered, "...Ren."
"Kaito."
Ren barely reacted, already shifting his gaze toward the alley's darkened depths. "Come on. I'll show you where to go."
Kaito hesitated, weighing his options. He wasn't foolish enough to blindly trust a random kid, but Ren wasn't leading him into an ambush—at least not yet. For now, this was the best lead he had.
He nodded, stepping forward, and together they walked deeper into the slums. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the narrow alleyway walls.
His ribs throbbed with every step, his stomach felt like it was about to eat itself, and exhaustion clung to his bones. But none of that mattered.
Because if this was really Danmachi—if this world followed the rules he knew—then survival wasn't enough.
He needed power.
---
Ren led Kaito through the winding alleys of the slums, moving with the ease of someone who had lived there his entire life. Kaito followed closely behind, keeping his head down and his footsteps light. In a city like Orario—even in Danmachi's world—he had no status, no power, and no way to defend himself. Until he understood how things worked, he had to be careful. Every instinct told him to stay out of sight, to avoid drawing attention.
The deeper they ventured, the stronger the stench of rot and filth became. The slums were a patchwork of crumbling stone, rusted iron, and makeshift shacks, all held together by rusted nails, desperation, and the faintest thread of hope. The air reeked of waste, spoiled food, and years of neglect. Eyes—empty, unfocused, and wary—followed Kaito as they passed. Bodies wrapped in tattered rags sat in doorways, while thugs leaned in shadowed corners, watching the street like predators waiting for an opening.
Orario might have been the city of adventurers, a beacon of fortune and glory. But this... this was the part of the city no one talked about. The part that never made it into the glowing tales of heroism or the bustling market squares.
After several more turns, Ren stopped at the base of a half-collapsed building. The structure barely stood on its own, the roof sagging under years of neglect. It looked as though a strong wind might bring it all down in an instant.
"Stay here," Ren muttered, his voice gruff.
Kaito leaned against the rough wall, grateful for the brief pause. The stone scraped against his back, but he hardly noticed. His mind was racing.
Okay, let's go over the facts:
One: He wasn't on Earth anymore. Somehow, he'd ended up in Danmachi's world.
Two: No money. No weapons. No clue how this world worked. If he didn't figure something out fast, he was dead—or worse.
Three: He needed a plan. But where did he even start?
Before he could continue his mental list, Ren emerged from the building and tossed something small toward him. Kaito caught it on instinct, glancing down to see a piece of stale bread in his hands.
"Eat," Ren ordered flatly.
Kaito blinked, confused. "...Why are you helping me?"
Ren snorted, his lips curling into a half-smirk. "I told you. If you get caught, you'll cause problems for everyone. You're better off with a little knowledge... and a little food." He didn't meet Kaito's eyes as he spoke, his gaze darting down the alley.
Kaito studied the bread. It wasn't much, but it was food. His stomach growled in response. Without another word, he took a bite. It was dry, crumbly, tasteless. But his body didn't care—it just needed fuel.
Ren sat down across from him, leaning back against the wall, his posture casual, but his eyes still sharp. "So... you gonna tell me how you ended up here, or what?"
Kaito hesitated. "...I don't remember."
It wasn't a complete lie. One moment, he had been on Earth, living a life that had felt so... predictable. The next, a flash of light, a disorienting shift, and now he was here. But to explain that? Ren wouldn't believe him. Hell, Kaito wasn't sure he believed it himself.
Ren just shrugged. "Figures."
The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable, filled only by distant shouts, the occasional clink of metal on stone, and the ever-present hum of tension in the air. Kaito shifted, trying to make sense of it all.
"How do people survive here?" Kaito asked finally, his voice a little quieter than he intended.
Ren's lips twisted into a bitter grin. "Steal. Scam. Kill, if they have to. No one cares about us here. The Guild? They don't bother with this part of the city. The guards? They won't come down here unless they're chasing someone who's already dead. The only law in these parts is strength—whoever's got it, wins."
Kaito frowned, his fingers tightening around the bread. "And you? What do you do?"
Ren's eyes hardened, his gaze distant. "I do what it takes. Same as anyone who wants to live." He looked at Kaito, sizing him up again. "In these parts, it's either eat or be eaten."
Kaito nodded slowly. In a place like this, survival meant making hard choices—things no one ever wanted to think about. But sometimes, there was no other option.
Ren eyed him closely, like he was trying to piece something together. "You're different. Most people down here are either desperate or scared. You? You're not."
Kaito didn't respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back against the crumbling wall, looking up at the faint glow of Orario's distant lights. They barely pierced the thick smog that hung over the slums, but they were there—promises of something more. Something better.
"Panic won't help me survive," Kaito said, his voice steady, almost calm. "The only thing that will is figuring out how to live here."
Ren's expression softened for a brief moment, something like respect flickering across his features before it disappeared, replaced by a hardened scowl. "Hmph. Doesn't matter how calm you are. You'll still die if you don't get smart. Trust me."
Kaito smirked, the edges of his mouth twitching upwards despite the weight of the situation. "Then maybe you should teach me how not to."
Ren rolled his eyes but didn't dismiss him outright. For the first time since they'd met, something like amusement flickered in his gaze. "Fine. But don't expect me to hold your hand. If you wanna survive down here, you better be willing to do whatever it takes."
Kaito nodded, his resolve hardening. "I can handle it."
And just like that, he took his first step into the unforgiving world of the slums in Danmachi—a world where there were no rules. No mercy. Only what you were willing to do to stay alive.