The Socially Maladjusted Boss
Rustle.
Juhan found himself on his knees, running his fingers through the dirt before he even realized what he was doing.
"..."
It was real dirt. Not the imitation soil he had conjured up in his pocket dimension just to set the mood, but genuine earth that formed the very foundation of this world.
Simply touching it welled up an inexplicable surge of emotion inside him. He had thought he was perfectly fine living in that pocket dimension all this time, but apparently, he wasn't.
To think I'd feel this way just from touching a bit of common dirt...
In truth, though he had never mentioned it to his dolls, Juhan had been grappling with a rather serious dilemma.
He wondered whether the "me" from before he was reborn into this body was the real him, or if the "me" newly born inside that pocket dimension was the true one.
In other words, he had been going through a bit of an identity crisis. It was likely exacerbated by the fact that he had spent his entire existence in that void, speaking only to his dolls.
But right now, Juhan felt as though that long-standing worry was finally being resolved.
I knew it. I really am a human.
No matter what kind of monstrous body he had been reborn into, Juhan's core identity was still "human." If it weren't, there was no way he would be getting this sentimental over a handful of dirt.
Having slowly risen to his feet, Juhan began to take in his surroundings.
The sky was brilliantly clear.
It was a truly beautiful day. A pleasant breeze swept past, making him feel as though he could happily wander anywhere the wind took him.
Chirp, chirp.
A flock of small birds still perched comfortably on Juhan's head and shoulders.
He didn't really feel the need to shoo them away. They didn't bother him, and besides, Juhan was far too distracted by other things right now.
Step. Step.
Just walking like this feels so healing.
Even though he was merely strolling along a babbling brook, Juhan felt a wonderful sense of liberation.
He found himself wishing that time would just stop right here.
Of course, that peaceful wish was shattered into a million pieces not long after.
What's that?
In the distance, a structure of unknown purpose had suddenly come into view.
Is that a watchtower?
Perhaps because he had walked along the brook for so long, Juhan had unknowingly emerged from the dense forest.
What caught his eye was a man-made structure soaring high into the sky.
It looked a bit like a watchtower, but from another angle, it resembled a clock tower.
Only one thing was absolutely certain.
I've already made it near a human settlement.
People—real, living humans whom Juhan hadn't seen in ages—undoubtedly lived near that tower. Not the dolls he had fabricated, but actual people.
I wonder if they'll do a strict background check. Maybe I should look for another way in...
He didn't hesitate as he walked toward the tower, though a sliver of anxiety did creep into his mind.
What if he ran into trouble trying to enter the town? What if there was someone inside who could see right through his disguise?
Step. Step.
Despite his worries, Juhan's feet kept moving forward. His desire to meet another human far outweighed his caution.
Ah, it really is a clock tower.
As he drew closer, more details came into focus.
The building he had initially mistaken for a watchtower was indeed a clock tower, and a cluster of other buildings surrounded it.
However, there was one peculiar thing...
There are so many three- and four-story buildings.
Contrary to what he had read in the novel, there were quite a few tall buildings.
The novel had explicitly stated that "people avoided building structures higher than two stories, as tall buildings easily became targets for monsters and flying beasts."
And it's not like these were built recently, either.
If they had built them after the world became peaceful, they shouldn't look this old. The buildings before him looked at least a century old.
There were too many inconsistencies to count, and he hadn't even reached the town's entrance yet.
Harboring these doubts, Juhan slowly approached the town.
Perhaps he couldn't entirely mask his nervousness, because the closer he got, the faster his heart began to beat.
Just as he was about to step into the town with a fluttering heart, Juhan suddenly froze in his tracks.
...What is this?
He had stopped right at the town's entrance. And the sight that had arrested his movement was...
"Yaaawn..."
"..."
Gape.
It was the guards, half-asleep and leaning against the wall, yawning so wide their jaws looked ready to unhinge.
Are those the only guards?
To make matters worse, there were only two of them.
This was despite the dozens of people streaming past them, entering and leaving the town in a steady flow.
Yet, the guards showed absolutely no intention of stopping or inspecting anyone. They simply dozed off, nodding their heads as if even breathing was too much of a chore.
Seriously, what is going on?
This was the exact opposite of the grim world described in the novel. Surely, he couldn't have misremembered the setting.
"Ugh, so sleepy."
"I'm dying here..."
These guards didn't possess a single shred of vigilance. What was even the point of them being here?
Sigh.
Well, let's just go in for now.
It was highly suspicious, but not enough to deter his resolve to gather information. Juhan took a deep breath and started walking again.
Just like everyone else walking by. Naturally. Don't look stiff...
Step, step.
"The strawberries the merchant brought today are absolutely exquisite!"
"The bear hide is in pretty good condition. If we stockpile it now, we can resell it for a high price later."
"Mom, Mommy! Buy me that, please!"
He hadn't realized it from a distance, but once he stepped inside, the sheer volume of people was overwhelming.
If they had one thing in common, it was the complete lack of worry on their faces.
Everyone was either engaging in light small talk or smiling as they browsed the wares of the street vendors near the entrance.
Naturally, the more he saw, the more tangled Juhan's thoughts became.
Step, step.
Slowly but surely, Juhan made his way deeper into the town.
Quietly, as naturally as possible.
There shouldn't be any issues. He wasn't doing anything to draw attention to himself.
Just slip in without making a scene...
Just as he thought he would make it through without a hitch—
"Huh? What's this? Hey, you there, hold on a second."
For some reason, one of the guards who had been dozing off just moments ago was now shouting at someone to stop.
"..."
At first, Juhan didn't even realize the guard was addressing him.
Ah, so they weren't completely asleep. I guess they do play the part of guards after all.
He was merely thinking idle thoughts, perhaps desperately hoping that the guard wasn't calling out to him.
"Hey! I said stop!"
Grab.
But then, a heavy, rough hand clamped down firmly on Juhan's shoulder.
Freeze.
"..."
Feeling the touch, Juhan froze solid like a statue.
For a split second, his mind went completely blank.
"Whew, finally caught you."
The guard smiled in relief, as if he had almost let a slippery fish get away.
Looking at Juhan, the guards let out small chuckles.
Shuuuu...
Seeing their smiles, Juhan instinctively began to tear open a rift in space.
His mind was instantly flooded with the urge to summon Kkamangi and all his other toy creations waiting in the void to obliterate this threat and escape.
Thump, thump.
It was a hair-trigger situation. Sensing Juhan's intense will, Kkamang No. 1 was on the verge of bursting out of the rift when—
"Where did you get those clothes?"
"Man... I haven't seen an outfit like that in ages."
"...Pardon?"
The guard's next words made Juhan realize he had gravely misunderstood the situation.
"Are you some kind of theater actor? And what's with the pigeons on your head?"
"An... actor? What do you mean by that all of a sudden...?"
"Don't play dumb. You're walking around wearing something that looks like it was dragged out of a grandma's closet."
"What?"
The guards pointed at Juhan's clothes and snickered amongst themselves.
It turned out they were simply fascinated by his fashion sense.
A kid who looked barely twenty was walking around in clothes that looked like they belonged in a museum—or a grandmother's wardrobe.
"Or is this some new trend among the youth these days?"
"No way, man. This is way too tacky."
They chatted idly right in front of him. Only then did Juhan look around and realize his attire was vastly different from everyone else's.
While everyone else wore simple, lightweight clothing, Juhan's outfit was covered in pockets of various shapes and sizes—designed as if he needed to carry an entire inventory on his person.
W-What?
Of course, Juhan felt incredibly wronged. He had put a lot of effort into making this outfit historically accurate!
I made it exactly like the clothes I saw in the novel's illustrations!
The novel's illustrations had depicted commoners in the background wearing exactly this kind of clothing.
He had painstakingly recreated it from his memory, only to be called tacky.
"Is that so? Well... I guess you must be from the countryside then?"
"The countryside... Ah, yes! That's right. I only recently arrived from the countryside."
"Where from? Mark? Yolan?"
"Why are you asking so many questions? Just let him go."
"I'm just curious. He might be from my hometown."
"Ha, haha..."
Wave, wave.
Having lost interest after a brief exchange, the first guard held back his overly curious partner with one hand and waved Juhan off.
"Sorry about that. He's always like this."
The guard offered a small, apologetic smile for stopping him. It was a genuinely friendly expression—no doubt a result of Juhan's simple, average, and highly approachable appearance.
"..."
And just like that, Juhan successfully entered the town.
There had been a brief scare, but it wasn't anything to lose sleep over.
The very first thing Juhan felt upon stepping into the town was the vibrant, bustling energy of the people.
Chatter, chatter. Hahaha!
Countless people walked the streets with bright smiles on their faces.
The elderly, the youth, and even those who looked like seasoned adventurers.
There was so little wariness in the air that a young child even pointed at Juhan and asked in wonder:
"Whoa! Mister, are those pigeons on your head your pets?"
"Zola, it's rude to point at people. I'm so sorry, young man."
There was no fear of the world ending. No looming dread of a final boss threatening humanity.
It was a lively, peaceful atmosphere devoid of any tension.
It was the complete polar opposite of the "bleak and depressing" world the novel had described ad nauseam.
Had the world really become this prosperous in just a few short years? It was only natural for him to wonder.
Ultimately, there was only one way to find out.
I need to gather information.
He had to find out what on earth had transpired to change the world so drastically.