Chapter 3: I Keep Dying, But the Waifus Pity Me?!

After my 57th death (courtesy of a rabbit, a particularly aggressive butterfly, and once because I tripped over my own slime body), I finally got noticed by a passing adventurer party.

And oh, of course, they were all beautiful girls.

"Aw, poor little slime," said the elf girl with silver hair and an unnecessarily revealing robe.

"Should we keep it?" the catgirl warrior asked, her ears twitching.

"Absolutely not," said the cold, serious knight with an ahoge. "It's weak. It's useless. It's…" She squinted at me. "…Somehow, I feel an ominous presence."

I tried to plead my case. "Please take me with you! I swear I'll be useful!"

But what came out was:

"BLORP."

The elf picked me up anyway. "He's cute. Let's keep him."

And just like that, I had officially joined an all-waifu adventurer party. Was this it? Was this my redemption arc?