January 21, 2015.
Beijing, Chaoyang District.
Wang Li's Apartment.
3:47 p.m.
The apartment was too small for what was happening inside it.
Wang Li sat on the floor, her back against the wall, her knees drawn up to her chest.
The demon princess sat cross-legged on the sofa, still staring at Rimuru with an expression of barely contained hysteria.
And Rimuru—the being who had casually kicked a thousand-year-old cultivator through four buildings and then reversed time like it was nothing—sat in Wang Li's only armchair, examining a small, struggling figure held between two fingers.
THE POCKET-SIZED EVIL
The Impostor was five inches tall.
Rimuru had done it without ceremony—just reached into the rubble, pulled out the half-dead cultivator, and squeezed.
Not physically.
It was more like watching someone crumple a piece of paper, except the paper was reality itself, and the crumpling was happening to a person.
Now the Impostor—the creature that had tormented Wang Li across lifetimes, the being that had killed her parents, stolen her face, and promised to destroy everything she loved—was the size of a doll.
He was standing on Rimuru's palm, shrieking.
Wang Li couldn't make out the words.
His voice had become high-pitched and tinny, like a mosquito with a grudge.
"Let me go!" the tiny Impostor screamed. "Do you know who I am? I am a cultivator of the Spirit Transformation stage! I have lived for four thousand years! I have destroyed empires! I have—"
Rimuru poked him.
He fell over.
"Spirit Transformation," Rimuru repeated, sounding amused. "That's like... what? Middle school level where I'm from?"
The Impostor scrambled to his feet.
His tiny face—still wearing Wang Li's features, which made the whole thing even more surreal—twisted with rage.
"You dare mock me? I will tear your soul from your body and feed it to—"
Rimuru poked him again.
He fell over again.
"Shhh," Rimuru said. "The adults are talking."
THE INTERROGATION
Wang Li watched the exchange with a strange mixture of horror and satisfaction.
She should have felt more.
The Impostor had ruined her life. Had framed her. Had threatened her mother. Had killed her in a past life—maybe more than once.
But right now, watching him flail uselessly in the palm of a being who could apparently rewrite reality, she mostly felt... empty.
No.
Not empty.
Tired.
She was so tired.
"So," Rimuru said, setting the tiny Impostor on the armrest of the chair like a particularly ugly action figure. "You're the one who's been causing problems. Stealing faces. Ruining reputations. Very dramatic."
The Impostor stood on the armrest, his tiny chest heaving.
"This doesn't concern you," he spat. "This is between me and her."
He pointed at Wang Li with a finger the size of a matchstick.
"She rejected me! She humiliated me! She chose another man over me! And now she must pay!"
Rimuru glanced at Wang Li.
Wang Li shook her head.
"I don't remember any of that," she said quietly. "I don't remember him at all."
The Impostor's tiny face contorted with fury.
"Lies! You remember! You must remember! I made sure you would remember this time!"
Rimuru raised an eyebrow.
"This time?"
THE PAST LIFE REVELATION
The Impostor went still.
For a moment, he looked almost... afraid.
Then his expression hardened.
"Nothing. It's nothing. Forget I said anything."
Rimuru smiled.
It was not a nice smile.
"No, I don't think I will."
He reached out and poked the Impostor again—except this time, the poke was accompanied by a faint glow, and when it connected, the Impostor screamed.
Not a theatrical scream.
A real scream.
The kind of sound something makes when it's genuinely terrified.
"STOP! STOP! I'll talk! I'll talk!"
Rimuru withdrew his finger.
"Good boy."
THE STORY
The Impostor talked.
His voice was still high-pitched, but the arrogance was gone now, replaced by something raw and desperate.
"I met her four thousand five hundred years ago. She was a princess. Sixteen years old. The most beautiful woman in the empire."
He glanced at Wang Li.
"I was young then. Powerful, but young. I thought... I thought I could have anything I wanted. And I wanted her."
His tiny hands clenched.
"I courted her. I brought her gifts. I wrote her poems. I killed her enemies. And she... she smiled at me. She laughed with me. She let me hold her hand."
He paused.
"But she never loved me."
Wang Li listened in silence.
She had no memory of any of this.
But her body reacted—her chest tightening, her throat constricting, a cold sweat breaking out on her palms.
"She loved another," the Impostor continued, his voice bitter. "A nobody. A servant. A boy who didn't deserve her."
His eyes blazed.
"So I killed him. I cut off his hand right in front of her. And then I killed her parents. And then I killed her."
The words hung in the air.
The apartment was silent except for the distant hum of traffic outside.
"But that wasn't enough," the Impostor whispered. "She was reborn. Again and again. And every time, I found her. Every time, I made her remember. Every time, I made her suffer."
He looked at Wang Li.
"Because if I can't have her, then no one can. And if she won't love me, then she'll fear me. That's enough. That's always been enough."
THE SILENCE
No one spoke.
The demon princess had stopped fangirling.
Her golden eyes were fixed on the tiny Impostor with an expression of pure disgust.
"That's..." she started.
She didn't finish.
She didn't need to.
Wang Li felt sick.
Not because of the violence—she was a surgeon, she had seen worse on operating tables.
But because of the waste.
Thousands of years.
Thousands of lives.
All destroyed because one man couldn't handle rejection.
"That's pathetic," she said quietly.
The Impostor's head snapped toward her.
"What?"
"Pathetic." Wang Li met his eyes. "Four thousand years. And you're still throwing a tantrum because a teenage girl didn't love you back."
The Impostor's face went white.
"You don't understand—"
"No, I understand perfectly." Wang Li's voice was cold. "You're not a monster. You're not even a villain. You're just a spoiled child who never learned to hear the word 'no.'"
She leaned forward.
"And I'm done being afraid of you."
THE POCKET
Rimuru clapped slowly.
"Nice speech," he said. "Very inspiring."
He reached over and picked up the Impostor again.
"But I think we've heard enough from this one."
He pulled a small pouch from... somewhere. Wang Li didn't see where. It just appeared in his hand, like it had always been there.
The pouch was made of dark leather, covered in symbols that seemed to shift and writhe when she looked at them directly.
"What is that?" she asked.
"A pocket dimension," Rimuru said casually. "Good for storing annoying people."
He held the pouch open.
The Impostor screamed.
"No! NO! You can't do this! I'll escape! I'll find her again! I'll—"
Rimuru dropped him inside.
The scream cut off abruptly.
The pouch closed.
The symbols stopped moving.
And the Impostor was gone.
THE QUESTION
Rimuru tucked the pouch back into... wherever it had come from.
Then he turned to the demon princess.
"Now," he said pleasantly. "About you."
The princess made a sound like a deflating balloon.
"Me?"
"Yes. You. The one who's been running around Beijing claiming to be my descendant."
Rimuru's golden eyes gleamed with amusement.
"I want to hear everything about this 'Demon World' of yours. The current generation. The political structure. Your father. Everything."
He paused.
"Because from what I remember, the world I left behind was called the Cardinal World. And it had human kingdoms like Blumund and Ingrassia. Dwarven nations like Dwargon. Multiple races coexisting in one realm."
He tilted his head.
"So why does it sound like things have changed?"
THE PRINCESS'S STORY
The princess stammered.
She was clearly starstruck, overwhelmed, and slightly terrified.
But she managed to speak.
"The... the Cardinal World. That's what the old records call it. Before the Separation."
Rimuru raised an eyebrow.
"Separation?"
"After you left, Lord Rimuru—" she glanced at him nervously— "the world... split. Into different realms. The demon realm, the angel realm, the dragon realm, the human realm... they're all separate now. Connected by gates and portals, but separate."
She swallowed.
"The demon realm is ruled by the Demon Lord Council. My father is the current head. He's the eighth generation, descended from your clones."
Rimuru frowned.
"That's... strange. I didn't intentionally split anything. And I definitely didn't create separate realms."
He leaned back in the chair.
"Unless..."
He trailed off, his expression thoughtful.
"Unless something happened after I left. Something that destabilized the world's structure."
THE CORRECTION
The princess looked confused.
"Wait, Lord Rimuru. The legends say that you split heaven and earth with a single swing of your sword. That your power was so great it created the sea monsters. That you're the only demon lord who ever befriended the Creator God."
Rimuru stared at her.
Then he sighed.
"That's... not exactly accurate."
He held up one hand and began counting on his fingers.
"First, I didn't split heaven and earth. That's a metaphor. Probably. Or maybe something one of my subordinates did after I left. I don't know."
"Second, the sea monsters weren't created by me. They were created by a sadist named Valentine. Nasty piece of work. He also created vampires. And a bunch of monsters that exist solely to destroy humans. Most of his creations are incompetent, by the way. Very embarrassing for him."
"Third—"
He paused.
"Third, I am not friends with the Creator God. In fact, I'm probably his number one enemy."
The princess's eyes went wide.
"What?"
Rimuru nodded grimly.
"His wife was killed by humans. He threw a tantrum and tried to destroy the entire multiverse. I stopped him. He's been holding a grudge ever since."
He paused.
"His daughter, on the other hand, is my best friend. She's great. She also hates her dad. So that works out."
THE CONFUSION
The princess looked like someone had just told her that the sky was actually green and had been lying to her whole life.
"But... but the legends..."
"Legends are just stories people tell when they don't have the full picture," Rimuru said. "And it sounds like whoever wrote your legends didn't have the full picture."
He leaned forward.
"Now. About the angels."
The princess blinked.
"The angels?"
"You said they call me 'Lord.' That they can't say my name without using the title."
The princess nodded.
"That's what the stories say."
Rimuru snorted.
"That depends on the angel. If it's Dino, he'll just call me Rimuru. He's lazy as hell. Probably sleeping right now, wherever he is."
He shook his head.
"The angels respect power, sure. But not all of them. And definitely not the way your legends describe."
THE REALIZATION
The princess was quiet for a long moment.
Then she spoke, her voice small:
"So... everything I grew up believing about you is wrong?"
Rimuru considered this.
"Not everything," he said gently. "I do have golden eyes. I do have silver-blue hair. I am ridiculously powerful. And I did have clones."
He paused.
"But the details? The sea monsters? The sword? The Creator God friendship? That's all... embellishment. Someone's been telling stories."
He sighed.
"Probably one of my subordinates. They're always exaggerating my achievements. It's embarrassing."
THE LIE
Wang Li had been listening quietly.
But something about Rimuru's tone caught her attention.
"You said you left the world fifty thousand years ago," she said slowly.
Rimuru glanced at her.
"Give or take."
"But you just said you stopped the Creator God from destroying the multiverse. And that his daughter is your best friend. And that you have subordinates who exaggerate your achievements."
She paused.
"That sounds like someone who was very involved in that world. Not someone who just left and never looked back."
Rimuru was quiet.
Then he smiled.
It was a strange smile—not his usual amused expression, but something softer. More tired.
"Sharp," he said. "I can see why you became a doctor."
He leaned back.
"Fine. I didn't exactly leave. I escaped."
THE TRUTH
The princess gasped.
"Escaped? From what?"
Rimuru's expression didn't change.
"Paperwork."
The word hung in the air.
Wang Li blinked.
"Paperwork?"
"Paperwork." Rimuru nodded solemnly. "I ruled my nation for a long time. Built it from nothing. Fought wars. United nations. Created treaties. And in exchange for all that hard work... I got buried in administrative duties."
He shuddered.
"Daily reports. Budget approvals. Trade negotiations. Complaints from the agricultural department about crop rotation. It never ended."
The princess was staring at him with an expression of dawning horror.
"So you... ran away?"
"I didn't run away." Rimuru's voice was defensive. "I delegated. There's a difference."
"You made a clone and escaped to another world!"
"That's delegation!"
"That's abandonment!"
"It's efficient management!"
THE SCAPE
Wang Li watched the argument with a strange sense of unreality.
A thousand-year-old cultivator who had stalked her across lifetimes was currently trapped in a magic pouch.
A demon princess from another dimension was arguing with a being who may or may not be the most powerful entity in existence.
And Wang Li herself was sitting on the floor of her apartment, still wearing the same clothes she'd been wearing for two days, wondering if she was actually in a coma and hallucinating all of this.
"Wait," she said suddenly.
The argument stopped.
Both golden-eyed beings turned to look at her.
"You said you have subordinates," Wang Li said. "One of them scolds you. Shuna?"
Rimuru's face went slightly pale.
"How do you know that name?"
"You mentioned it earlier." Wang Li frowned. "You said you escaped because Shuna was scolding you. And that it wasn't because you're scared of her, which implies that you are."
Rimuru's golden eyes narrowed.
"I'm not scared of Shuna."
"You said it twice."
"That's just... emphasis."
"The lady doth protest too much."
"The lady—" Rimuru sputtered. "I am not a lady!"
THE MASCULINITY
The demon princess tilted her head.
"You're not?"
"No!" Rimuru's voice was sharp. "I am peak masculinity. I am the pinnacle of male existence. I am—"
"You look like a schoolgirl," Wang Li said flatly.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Rimuru stared at her.
The princess stared at her.
Wang Li stared back.
"I'm just being honest," she said. "You do. You look like a fifteen-year-old girl."
Rimuru's golden eyes twitched.
"This form is practical. It's compact. It's efficient. It has nothing to do with my masculinity or lack thereof."
"Sure," Wang Li said.
"It doesn't!"
"Okay."
"Stop saying 'okay' like that!"
"Okay."
THE POCKET DIMENSION RUMBLES
The pouch on the table started to shake.
All three of them looked at it.
The Impostor's muffled voice came from inside:
"Let me out! You can't do this! I have rights!"
Rimuru picked up the pouch and shook it.
"Shut up in there."
The shaking stopped.
But a moment later, the Impostor's voice came again, smaller this time:
"...I'm going to sue you."
Rimuru looked at the pouch.
Then at Wang Li.
"Is he serious?"
Wang Li shrugged.
"He's been alive for four thousand years. He probably has lawyers."
THE PRINCESS'S REQUEST
The demon princess suddenly stood up from the sofa.
She walked over to Rimuru.
And then, to Wang Li's complete shock, she dropped to her knees and bowed her head.
"Great Demon Lord! Please forgive my ignorance! I didn't know the truth about your legend! I have been spreading false stories about you!"
Rimuru blinked.
"Uh. It's fine?"
"Please allow me to serve you! I will do anything! I will—"
"Can you make good coffee?"
The princess looked up.
"What?"
"Coffee." Rimuru tilted his head. "I'm thinking about opening a café. I need someone who can make good coffee. Can you?"
The princess stared at him.
Then at Wang Li.
Then back at Rimuru.
"I... don't know. I've never tried."
Rimuru smiled.
"Then you'll learn. Consider it your first task as my... whatever you want to be."
THE END OF THE DAY
By evening, things had settled into an uneasy peace.
Rimuru had decided to stay in Beijing for a while—partly to keep an eye on the situation, partly because he genuinely wanted to open a café.
The demon princess had sworn eternal loyalty and was now trying to figure out how to use a coffee machine.
The Impostor was still in the pouch.
Wang Li's mother was still safe.
And Wang Li herself was sitting on her apartment balcony, staring at the city lights, wondering how her life had become this.
The door slid open behind her.
Rimuru stepped out, holding two cups of tea.
"Thought you might need this," he said, handing her one.
Wang Li took the cup.
The warmth seeped into her cold fingers.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
They stood in silence for a while.
Then Rimuru spoke:
"You know, when I came to this world, I wasn't expecting to get involved in reincarnation drama."
Wang Li let out a small, exhausted laugh.
"Neither was I."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
And so the Impostor is dealt with—for now. But the story is far from over.
Rimuru's presence has changed everything. His very existence challenges the legends the demon princess grew up with. And his connection to this world—or rather, to the world she came from—raises questions that no one is ready to answer.
Why did the Cardinal World split into separate realms?
What happened after Rimuru left?
And why does the Creator God's daughter hate her own father?
Some mysteries are best left buried.
But they never stay buried for long.