Kazuya held the letter in his trembling hands.
"The Ultimate Husbando Tournament?" he muttered, his voice filled with dread.
Sylvara leaned over his shoulder, reading the elegant, golden script. "Hmm… it says:
'Only the strongest, most desirable, and meme-worthy husbandos are invited to this sacred battleground. Compete for ultimate glory, or be forever labeled a mid-tier waifu's side character.'"
Kazuya's eye twitched. "Who—who even decides that?!"
Sylvara smirked. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."
Quackleton adjusted his monocle. (This sounds like a fight for your very identity.)
Kazuya sighed. "What happens if I don't go?"
The letter glowed ominously, and new words etched themselves into the paper:
'Cowards will be hunted down and forcefully entered into the competition.'
Kazuya groaned. "Great. Just great. Who's running this stupid tournament, anyway?"
Suddenly—
The sky cracked open like an eggshell.
And from the heavens above, a towering figure descended.
Enter: The Grand Husbando Arbiter
A chiseled, godlike man landed before them, his long, flowing hair defying physics as it billowed dramatically in an imaginary wind. His jawline could cut diamonds, his abs were scientifically illegal, and his cape was somehow both elegant and unnecessary.
A golden nameplate hovered above his head, glowing with divine power:
✨"Arbiter Chaduel: The Ultimate Husbando Judge"✨
Kazuya blinked. "Are you serious?"
Chaduel's voice boomed across the land.
"KAZUYA. CHOSEN HERO. YOU HAVE BEEN SUMMONED TO THE REALM OF PEAK HUSBANDRY."
Sylvara stifled a laugh. "Peak… husbandry?"
Chaduel nodded. "Only elite specimens of husband material may enter." He pointed a dramatic, muscular finger at Kazuya. "You will prove your worth… or be forgotten as a generic isekai protagonist."
Kazuya gritted his teeth.
"Listen, pal. I don't know who you think I am, but I am not competing in some muscle-bro romance battle royale!"
Chaduel snapped his fingers.
A portal erupted beneath Kazuya's feet.
"TOO BAD," Chaduel bellowed. "DESTINY AWAITS."
And with that—
Kazuya plummeted into the abyss.
The Husbando Coliseum: Where Only Legends Survive
Kazuya landed face-first into a shiny, marble arena, sliding several feet before coming to a stop.
He groaned, pushing himself up. "I already hate this."
The roar of thousands of fangirls filled the air.
The Ultimate Husbando Coliseum stretched out in all directions—massive statues of legendary husbandos towered over the battlefield, including:
Gojo Satoru (because obviously) Geralt of Rivia (the beard? The voice? No competition.) Some dude named Chad-kun who apparently stole 37 waifus And, of course, a mysterious hooded figure labeled 'The Forbidden Husbando'
A loud gong rang out.
A holographic hostess appeared in the sky, winking at the audience.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to THE ULTIMATE HUSBANDO TOURNAMENT!" she announced. "Our contenders will face rigorous challenges to prove they are the greatest husbando material ever!"
Kazuya sighed. "This is my worst nightmare."
A deep voice rumbled behind him.
"I see… another challenger has arrived."
Kazuya turned—
And his soul left his body.
Round One: Kazuya vs. 'The Walking Red Flag'
Before him stood a tall, smirking, absurdly attractive man with messy black hair and a villainous aura so thick you could cut it with a knife.
A golden nameplate hovered over his head:
✨"Renjiro Nightshade: The Walking Red Flag"✨
Kazuya pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. No way. I refuse to fight some bad-boy anime villain with daddy issues."
Renjiro chuckled darkly. "Tch. Afraid you can't handle my tragic backstory and emotionally unavailable personality?"
Kazuya groaned. "Oh, come on."
The hostess's voice rang out. "FIRST MATCH! BEGIN!"
Renjiro vanished—and reappeared behind Kazuya in an instant.
"Tsk, tsk," Renjiro whispered. "Too slow."
Kazuya instinctively dodged, narrowly avoiding a smoldering, overly dramatic pose attack.
Sylvara's voice crackled through a magic communication crystal. "Kazuya, you need to play this smart! Red flags have two weaknesses: healthy communication and self-awareness!"
Kazuya's eyes widened. "Wait… that's it!"
Renjiro lunged again—
But this time, Kazuya caught his wrist.
"Listen, dude," Kazuya said, voice gentle. "Have you ever considered going to therapy?"
Renjiro froze. "...What?"
Kazuya nodded. "I mean, you're clearly working through something. Maybe you don't have to be mysteriously brooding all the time. It's okay to just… talk about your feelings."
Renjiro started trembling.
"No…" he muttered. "I… I don't need… help…"
Kazuya smiled kindly. "And that's okay. We all need help sometimes, man."
Renjiro fell to his knees.
"NOOOO! MY TRAGIC EDGE! IT'S FADING!"
The hostess gasped. "UNBELIEVABLE! KAZUYA HAS DEFEATED RENJIRO… WITH THERAPY TALK!"
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Renjiro sobbed into his hands. "Maybe I will go to therapy…"
Kazuya dusted himself off. "One down. Who's next?"
Then—
The ground trembled.
The next challenger stepped forward.
A massive 7-foot-tall figure, their muscles shimmering with raw power.
The nameplate glowed ominously:
✨"Bradimus Maximus: The Ultimate Chiseled Husband"✨
Kazuya's face paled.
"…I'm so screwed."
TO BE CONTINUED…