Chapter 2: The Forbidden Hero
In a certain farming village, Ryuguin had plunged the land into a state of irrecoverable ruin, but for him, such a feat was as easy as pie. It was merely a tale of a defeated dog quietly disappearing from the town. Whether to rise or fall was a decision left to oneself. You chose this path, and all the responsibility lies with you.
The logic was simple. The world operates on the principle of personal responsibility. Thus, he felt not a shred of remorse, nor even a single micron of pity.
If there were foolish actions taken by someone, the surrounding people would refrain from intervening. In such cases, what could possibly happen? The answer is that things would reach their inevitable conclusion.
While creating fertilizer, he—Ryuguin—somehow found himself tasked with attracting customers for a mid-tier merchant house. Although he had taken on this task, the merchant’s owner was merely sipping his drink at the tavern, casually complaining to a friend, “Things have been rough lately.” In truth, those words held no deep meaning; they were akin to the phrase “just getting by.”
However, Ryuguin did not understand this. Keenly picking up on the conversation, he fabricated a scenario where “the wise hero was asked to attract customers” and took it upon himself to act. It was utterly chaotic.
The merchant, unable to voice any objections to the request from the now-famous Hero-sama, felt an ominous premonition as he watched a complete amateur confidently declare, “It’ll be fine! Leave it to me!” Yet, faced with the hero’s presence, he could do nothing but weep and plead, “Please…”. To which Ryuguin quipped, “Are you crying tears of joy?”
“The basics of attracting customers lie in being noticed by any means necessary. So, what do you think will catch people’s attention? It might be a bit too advanced for you to understand, but there’s a method called controversial marketing.”
He puffed out his chest, eagerly proclaiming that this controversial approach would save the merchant house.
And before anyone knew it, Ryuguin’s incompetently active nature came to the forefront, leading to a situation where, for some reason, the merchant found himself scattering a large number of coins from the roof of his own house alongside the hero. The coins, which included copper and silver, amounted to a significant sum when spread over several minutes.
“Hey, poor folks! This is a gift from the August Merchant House! Come on! Work harder to pick them up!! Hurry, hurry!!”
The ever-joyful Hero-sama continued to shower the townsfolk with coins in such a manner. Of course, the coins belonged to the aforementioned mid-tier merchant house.
To put it bluntly, in terms of attracting attention, Ryuguin’s scheme was a success. However, it did not translate into actual customer traffic. One reason was the numerous injuries that occurred during the scramble for the scattered coins, but the more significant cause was the intense negative feelings stirred among the common folk—”This is so vulgar,” “They look down on us,” “They must be profiting through shady means,” “How dare they act so high and mighty?”—which ultimately deterred them from shopping at the merchant house.
It was an outcome that was obvious to anyone. Consequently, it was only natural that the merchant house began to decline.
At another time, in a restaurant with a rich menu,
“The human brain has stamina, you see. Choosing and making decisions consumes that stamina. So, the act of choosing is not something humans should welcome.”
Ryuguin seized the owner and endlessly lectured her.
“In other words, if there are too many menu options, customers will tire from the act of choosing, and as a result, the number of patrons will decrease.”
The restaurant was thriving, and no one was even contemplating such a dilemma, leaving the owner, the staff, and all the customers—everyone except Ryuguin—looking utterly bewildered. However, Ryuguin remained oblivious to this… or perhaps he was aware, but the outcome would have been the same.
Initially, the restaurant did not heed Ryuguin’s advice. After numerous visits under the guise of inspections, he exclaimed, “You ignored my advice! That’s the same as mocking a hero!” with spittle flying from his mouth.
Taking advantage of the couple’s fear of his status and demeanor, he pressed on, “Oh, so you’re ignoring the advice of a hero, huh? Got it. Understood.”
He exerted pressure that bordered on harassment, leveraging his fame as a hero.
Ultimately, the restaurant, which had proudly boasted, “We take pride in our extensive menu. You won’t regret any choice you make,” succumbed to Ryuguin’s (questionable) advice, reducing the menu to a mere handful of options.
There were countless other episodes of Ryuguin’s outrageous behavior that could be recounted.
While these foolish actions of Ryuguin were tragic for the victims, in the grand scheme of things, they were ultimately recoverable.
That day, Ryuguin was in high spirits. Surrounded by several women, he reveled in the company of sleazy men who would praise him in hopes of being treated to drinks, enjoying himself at a high-end club, behaving like a raucous patron unfit for the establishment.
At that very moment, by some twist of fate, a lower noble named Annabel Machiavelli found himself drinking next to Ryuguin. He had been brought here by a fellow lower noble friend, seeking a distraction, even though he wasn’t in the mood for drinking at all.
Even amidst the vibrant atmosphere, his heart remained heavy. His anxiety stemmed from his beloved daughter. The girl he cherished so deeply was afflicted by an incurable illness. Her condition had worsened day by day, and just recently, she had become unable to rise from her bed.
As a father, Annabel desperately searched for a cure, but the results were disheartening—his face bore the marks of exhaustion, both mental and physical, and it was no exaggeration to say that death seemed to loom over him.
He was weak to alcohol, and as he sipped the offered drink, his face quickly flushed. He poured out his worries and the misfortune of his daughter, crying uncontrollably in that very spot.
It was at that moment that a refreshing voice, unbothered by the sorrow surrounding him, rang out.
“Yes, I’ve heard your story.”