The Hero Has Started His Second Round
"By the way, old man. What year is it now?"
"It's Imperial Year 236... Wait, you don't even know what year it is? Are you sure you're not sick or something?"
Ghetto gave me a worried look in response to my question about the year. If someone who'd been perfectly fine the day before suddenly asked what year it was, I'd think it was strange too.
Imperial Year 236...
But instead of answering Ghetto, I checked my body. That was the year I'd awakened as the Hero. It confirmed the goddess had kept her promise to me.
My awakening hasn't happened yet?
I examined myself, but the overwhelming power I'd always felt after becoming the Hero was gone.
"So, what month and day is it today?"
"...Allen. What happened to you? Huh? Did you hit your head...? Was it those Peril bastards harassing you again?"
"Peril?"
I tilted my head at Ghetto's words, then let out a snort of laughter. It reminded me of how, before awakening as the Hero, that punk Peril used to bully me.
"It's nothing like that. Just tell me what day it is."
"...It's May 16th. But forget that—what about your head? Let me take a look!"
So, a few days before my awakening.
I ignored Ghetto as he fussed over my hair, gauging the exact timing of my regression. I'd awakened as the Hero precisely on my twentieth birthday, so in just a few days, I'd regain my original power.
"It's weird. I don't see any obvious wounds."
"Who said I got hit, old man? I'm not the type to go around getting beat up."
"...Well, bruises don't always show! What am I gonna do with those punks? Sorry, Allen. If only I had a bit more strength..."
I tried bluffing to reassure him, but Ghetto didn't buy it one bit. And why would he? Peril's gang were the roughest fighters in the village. Not just me—everyone avoided them.
"No, really, I haven't been hit."
"Don't lie to me. Last time you came home covered in wounds from head to toe."
"Haha, that was then. Things are different now."
I gave an awkward laugh at his words. I'd fought the Demon King, saved the world, and here I was, right back to getting picked on by local thugs. It really drove home that I'd returned to the past.
"This won't do. I need to go find those bastards and settle this."
"No, what are you gonna do about it?"
I yelled as I grabbed Ghetto, who was reaching for the fire poker in the corner, ready to head out. My memories of Peril's gang were fuzzy, but I remembered they weren't the type to go easy on an old man.
"You gonna keep taking it lying down?"
"No one's taking anything. They're nothing, seriously."
"Nonsense! Something's wrong with you. Just hearing Peril's name used to turn your face white."
"...Come on, it wasn't that bad."
My cheeks burned as I scratched them. It brought back memories of my pre-awakening self—timid, powerless, ordinary.
"Alright, old man. I'll handle those guys by the end of the day."
"You? How?"
I spoke with brimming confidence, but Ghetto's eyes were full of doubt. Seeing that made my temper rise. Getting beaten by Peril was a vague 20-year-old memory, but Ghetto pitying me was happening right now.
"Argh, just trust me for once?"
"Where the hell am I supposed to find these punks?"
After convincing Ghetto, I stepped outside and scratched my head in frustration. I'd boasted I'd crush Peril's gang right away, but I had no idea where they were. On top of that, my hometown felt strangely unfamiliar after 20 years.
Well, the village isn't big. I'll run into them eventually.
I shrugged it off and started strolling through the village. I spotted familiar faces from hazy memories but ignored them and kept walking.
These stares haven't changed.
I gave a bitter smile at the villagers eyeing me with disdain. It was a small place, and everyone knew I was the drifter orphan. Ghetto ignored the looks and took me in, but not everyone was like him. That's why Peril's gang, who caused all sorts of trouble, targeted me especially hard.
"Kyaaak!"
As I walked leisurely, a woman's scream echoed from an abandoned house in the village corner—no one lived there. A few nearby villagers must have heard it too, but they just looked awkward and did nothing.
What idiots.
Sneering at their hypocrisy, I kicked open the door and strode in. Sure enough, I easily found Peril and his lackeys where the scream came from.
"Oho? Allen. What're you doing here?"
"What, finally decided to leave the village?"
Peril's gang sneered at me. The funny part? They had a woman cornered, toying with her.
I ignored them and eyed the woman tied half-naked to a pillar.
What was her name again?
I frowned slightly at her face. For a girl from a small village, she was pretty enough to stick in my memory, but her name escaped me.
"What? Allen, you wanna join in too?"
As I stared at the nameless woman, Peril grinned sleazily and asked. Then he groped her exposed pale breast.
"Haha. What do you think, Lina? Give the drifter a turn too?"
The woman couldn't respond. Her mouth was gagged with a white cloth, naturally.
"Ooh, what's this? Getting excited just thinking about it? Your nipples are hard already."
Peril pinched Lina's perked nipple between thumb and forefinger as he spoke. His two goons clutched their stomachs laughing, as if it was the funniest thing.
Honestly, I watched without much feeling. At best, I noted her name was Lina. Their antics were childish, and as the Hero, I'd seen women far more stunning.
Not that I did anything with them, of course.
I sighed lightly and scanned the room. Peril and his goons all had swords at their waists.
"What're you doing, Allen? Too horny to even look?"
I ignored Peril, picked up a nearby fire poker. No wonder Ghetto swung it so often—it had perfect weight, balance, all-steel construction, unbreakable by normal hits.
"...A fire poker? What for? Gonna start a fire?"
"This drifter punk— you wanna go?"
As I gripped it, Peril's goons reached for their sword hilts.
If you're scared, draw already.
I charged them, glaring. Drawing wouldn't change much, but no need to risk a cut.
Thwack.
The poker's tip lightly smacked the front goon's hand.
"You crazy bastard! Have you lost it?"
The two belatedly tried drawing, but I wasn't waiting.
Crack.
The poker whipped back mid-air, smashing the half-drawn sword guy's skull. I'd held back, but blood sprayed from his head—right onto Peril's face.
"...Wh-what the..."
Peril, splattered unexpectedly, stared at me dumbfounded. He hadn't even thought to draw, just gawking like an idiot. The weakling he'd always bullied had just dropped his two strong goons at once—no wonder he was shocked.
"You just gonna stare?"
I shook the blood off the poker and faced Peril. The others were done, but Peril needed proper handling.
Hit the head right to make it stick.
Winning by surprise would just cause more hassle later. He needed to learn bone-deep I was no match for him.
I pointed the poker tip at him.
"Draw your sword. No excuses later."
"...You mad bastard. What got into you?"
Peril's stunned face twisted viciously. Probably burning with shame at fearing trash like me.
Shing.
He drew cleanly and charged, his swing unhesitant to kill.
Yep, irredeemable trash.
I shook off any lingering pity and thrust the poker at his throat.
It sank perfectly into the hyped-up fool's neck.
"Gurk!"
Peril collapsed, clutching his throat. He dropped his sword, writhing on the floor. I slowly raised the poker.
No grudge, but...
Like doing a chore, I methodically bashed his body—arms, legs, shoulders, waist. Everywhere except lethal spots.
"Urk...!! St-stop. I, I was wrong... Ack! Augh...!! Sp-spare me..."
I sighed at Peril begging through the pain. If I'd truly hated him, I'd have hunted him down post-awakening for revenge. But in my old life, I'd left him be—for the laughable reason that Hero powers weren't for personal use.
"Just rest a few months. It'll cure your bad habits."
I kept pounding the screaming Peril. Just like with Lina's screams, no one came.
"Take him and get out."
I pointed at the pulped Peril to his now-sober goons. They glanced nervously at my bloody poker but dragged him out.
Villagers would see his state soon; Ghetto would hear within half a day.
"Mmph! Mmph!"
As I finished and turned to leave, a muffled voice came from behind.
Right, she was still here.
I finally remembered Lina tied to the pillar and looked back. Through her half-torn clothes, one plump breast and her shapely legs were fully exposed.