Towers appeared approximately twenty years ago. Slime was a baby back then, so of course he didn’t remember their appearance. They showed up in every country, and at first, people had been confused. Of course, prolific readers of manhwa knew exactly what was going on, but of course Slime didn’t know, because he was a baby.

At first, they had been quarantined by the military as they waited with bated breath for something to come out of them. Nothing ever came out of them. No, nothing came out of them, but people started disappearing. Robbed in the middle of the night, out of their beds, and Slime had never given much thought to it. Eventually, five years after the first disappearance, someone came out.

It was Hye-Su Park, who was a celebrity now. She emerged from the depths of the South Korean tower, decked out in armor, carrying a massive scythe for a weapon. The story that came out of her was fantastical. Another land, another place, where everyone spoke the same language and came together to conquer the tower. She had spun a pretty tale, and Slime hadn’t thought much of it. Then again, he had been five at the time. He probably should have paid more attention to returners, because now he was in a bit of a pickle.

First of all, his skin was missing. He was cold and wet. Literally wet, because he was made out of slime. Aquamarine slime, shining in the dim light of the cavern he had been found in, and he was stressed, because all of the slime in this cave were staring up at him like they weren’t sure if they should attack him or not. He didn’t know if he should attack them or not, if he was being honest. Why was he made out of slime?

Of course, he knew some people came out of the tower changed, with strange powers and abilities. They looked different, acted different, and sometimes came out with strange mutations. Last month, a man came out as a minotaur. There was no way to save him, and he would have to go through life just like that.

But, honestly. He may have named himself Slime, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be slime. He was still standing in his joggers and loose tee that he had worn to bed, and he was more than a little freaked out. His chest was flat, though, so he supposed he could thank the system for that, that mysterious thing that operated the tower. He opened his mouth, shut it, and then he started to speak.

“Uh, hi,” he said to the slimes, that were still staring at him, and they didn’t react. Not that he was expecting them to. “Do you know how I can get out of here?”

There were two exits, and he assumed one choice was bad and one was good. The slimes all looked towards the doorways, and then they started to move.

Okay. He had made friends with the slime. That was fine. He took a step forward, wobbled, and collapsed face down. Abruptly, he realized he was a bit shorter than normal, and he didn’t know how to walk in this new body. Great. With a groan, he pulled himself to his feet and wobbled towards the exit. He had no idea why he was trusting slime, but they seemed to accept him as one of their own. Thank gods he didn’t have to kill them. He had no weapon on him, and he didn’t think slime arms was a valid combat move.

He stumbled again, smacking into the wall, and slumped down to the ground. The slimes all peered at him, and he let his head rest against the wall. Why was he a slime? He didn’t want to be a slime. He just… He just…

Fuck.

He was going to be like this for the rest of his short, miserable life. He was only twenty-one, he realized. He was only twenty-one, and this was terrifying. He did not want to be here. He did not want to be here, and he was probably going to die very quickly.

How did he get out of this situation?

With a groan, he pulled himself to his feet and continued his wobbly way down the cavernous hallway. He didn’t know where he was going. He did not know where he was going, and he was more than a little terrified. The slimes were leading him somewhere, but he did not know where. Fuck, why did the system pick him? He was a blue haired barista with pronouns. He wasn’t… he wasn’t…

Panic time was for later. He had to continue on just like this. He continued to walk down the damp tunnel, clinging to the wall as he walked, wobbly in the knees and not coping well. He was scared. Oh, gods, he was scared. He just… he needed to…

He crashed into a wall and went down, face down on the wet ground, and all of the slimes peered at him again.

“I’m okay,” he mumbled into the smooth-but-bumpy cave floor, and the slimes all turned their attention back forward to wherever the hell they were leading him. He gave up on walking and started to crawl along the cave floor, his joggers catching and snagging on stones, and he exhaled slowly. Where were they going? They were clearly leading him somewhere, but he didn’t know where.

There was light ahead, shining down the hallway, and he squinted at it. Was that the way out? He crawled into the light, and, suddenly, a gate rained down from above him and closed behind him.

“Mission: Defeat the Cannibal King and gain your rightful title,” came a pleasant female voice, and Slime slowly, slowly looked up with wide, wide eyes.

There was a gigantic slime the size of a small house sitting on a throne, and it was eating a small slime that was letting out loud squeaks and struggling against his hand. The slime king was dark, gray and opaque, and Slime watched in horror as it swallowed down the screeching slime and burped loudly.

“Oh? Who dares intrude on my domain?” the cannibal king asked, its voice booming and deep, and Slime’s eyes widened in horror.

“Uh, no one, your honor!” Slime called and scrambled back, running into the bars of the cage. “No one at all! Yep, I’ll just… be on my wayyyy…”

“Oh? A challenger approaches,” the cannibal king purred, and if Slime had blood, it would drain from his face.

Oh.

Fuck.