Something's Wrong with the World I Returned To
Back in my school days, everything was fun except studying. Games were the best, of course, but as long as it wasn't textbooks, I could enjoy novels, comics, anything with words. Not just the usual wuxia or fantasy stuff guys read—I was what you'd call a "jack-of-all-otaku," devouring even cringey rom-coms with twisted fingers of shame.
Realistically speaking, I'd wondered if a chill, fun life like in a rom-com suited me better than some gritty, intense one.
─Whoosh.
The Goddess of Order summons the hero.
"......Huh?"
That was me—a guy like that. So when I suddenly got swallowed by light and summoned somewhere unknown, I didn't wander in confusion for long. Sure, I freaked out and blinked in shock at first.
But then a vision of a mysteriously beautiful goddess filled my sight. I clocked it instantly.
...No way, is this a hero summon?
She nodded, a benevolent smile confirming my guess.
I was flustered by the sudden turn, but honestly, my heart started racing.
'Harem hero party arc starting?'
Of course, it could be a dark fantasy setup, so I couldn't drop my guard completely.
You will not die.
The contract terms were suspiciously generous right from the start. I had a vessel that could grow endlessly, so I'd hunt monsters, but the goddess's church would support me fully—no chance of death. No backstabbing or discarding me like trash later, either. She swore it herself first, saying doubting allies would distract from the greater cause.
She even promised to grant a wish after it all. 'If that's real, not a bad deal.'
Half-kidnapped as I was, what choice did I have? If negotiations broke down, I'd be screwed. At least we'd settled on decent terms via pact, so I'd trust it for now.
Contract established.
Hearts aligned from the jump. Compared to those trashy stories where hero parties backstab or exploit each other, this was a golden start.
Grinning brightly, we clasped hands.
Now, let's form your party.
"Oh."
Harem party time, finally.
"Yo, nice to meetcha."
True to her word, the support was top-tier. The continent's best fighters assembled into a hero party.
"This kid's the hero?"
"He's cute."
"Go level up, little guy."
"Heh, the uncles'll take good care of ya."
The Northern Barbarian Warrior, the all-purpose Dwarf Craftsman, an Elf Prince with sturdy bowstring arms and forearms, the Cardinal Priest, and the Thief King Dohwang—lord of the underworld, god of scouting and assassination.
Selected purely on teamwork, personality, and current skill—the fantasy continent's strongest party, no doubt.
'Kinda weird there's not a single woman, though.'
Warrior aside, usually you'd slot in a female archer or saintess. But no special hires—just grizzled pros, all burly muscle uncles.
'You absolutely won't die.'
...Well, if that held true, I was golden. And it did—I never felt a hint of danger hunting mutant monster hordes or slaying shadowy demon kin.
Logistics like food were plentiful, making it feel like I'd logged into a VR game as the protagonist. No waifus, just a full muscle-dad party, but still.
'Eh, fine. Girls can wait till after I grind hero duties.'
Aura awakening slowed aging too, so time was on my side. Once peace came, I'd write legends of debauchery.
Not that it was imminent.
"Yuseong! Hurry up! Sausages are getting cold!"
"Kya! This beer's outta this world!"
"Hey, kid, give this bro a shoulder rub!"
"...Dude, I've got seniority too."
"Nah, your hands are too weak. Bro'll hook you up with a full kingdom spa later!"
Year three of hero life. I believed someday I'd escape this muscle-uncle party.
The upside? No petty drama or betrayals like in some stories. These guys were all heart and loyalty.
'Yeah, smiting demons with the uncles for a few more years ain't bad.'
Sure, the sweat and blood got old sometimes, but until peace reigned, we needed to stick together.
"This time for real? Lie again and no more freebies!"
"Hey! You doubtin' me?!"
"Fine! One more shot!"
"Kuhahaha!"
Never dreamed it'd be 20 years.
The long haul? Simple. The demons scorching this world hailed from another planet entirely—like Zerg from StarCraft, alien invaders.
'What the actual fuck.'
At first, pure bullshit. I grabbed a top continent mage-engineer's collar, demanding no crap.
But nope—demons were legit extraterrestrials, periodically shipping troops from their homeworld to colonize ours.
I wanted to slap myself for assuming a standard demons-vs-heroes setup.
'Space-scale quest? Goddess pulls me for this?'
Felt like the world and fate were screwing me. ...Damn contract. No death risk, full support, eject option mid-run? Perfection.
Eh? No way, right?
"......"
Too late to bail now. Perfect balance kept the grind going till we purged the continent's demons and nuked their base.
Twenty years. Demon rocket plus goddess power for interstellar flight—we razed their homeworld. Peace at last.
Muscle uncles stuck with me the whole way.
"Hahaha!"
"Beer and sausage combo's the world's best!"
Half-superhuman, they barely aged. By then, fondness outweighed annoyance.
Still, no elf archer babe or saintess? Not even a cool tsundere thief?
'Fuck, my harem hero party.'
Resentment bubbled briefly.
"Even now, it's bullshit human-wise, but I absolutely don't blame you, Goddess. All my fault. Yeah, totally."
Ahem, ahem.
"Saving the world and being hailed a hero? Precious experience, right?"
Our party became living legend, me especially—full hero status, mythic figure. In this primitive era, flying to another star and wiping demons? God-tier feat.
"Empire emperor, your pope, haughty high-elf chief—all bow to me. Not as equals, nah. Endgame, I could cleave planets—god incarnate stares."
Makes sense. Guardian of kingdoms, continents, world—maybe universe. Worshipped as myth, not man. Fine by me, honestly.
Petty issue: too famous for fun. No savior sneaking kingdom spa or tavern pints. Hitting on girls? Awkward.
"They see me as incarnation of destruction, not man or hero."
Overkill reverence. Command, and nightly company would line up. But post-uncle escape, I craved normal heart-flutters, not divine worship...
Now? Ruined. No normal dating—step outside temple, knees hit floor. Portraits everywhere, statues up—face known worldwide.
Upside: wealth and fame stacked. But unused during grind—what good?
Ah, yeah... My great fault. You came young.
"Nah, not blaming you—the vibe's just overheating a tad."
No, no. My fault. Kept you blind to demon origins.
She fidgeted thoughtfully, then spoke solemnly.
Guess I gotta fix it. Option: make everyone forget you exist...?
"Eh, nah."
After all that grind? Forgetting it'd sting. Not Spider-Man fantasy continent edition. Dual life tempting, but not me.
I pondered, then decided.
"Kinda missing modern stuff. Send me back—happy, comfy life."
Fantasy fame was nice, but 20 years enough. Same content tires eventually. Plus, that wish clause from day one.
"I'll swing by when those geezers kick it. Seventies and still hunting me down."
Hmm. That okay?
"Toss in fat bonuses for the grind. Oh, and some power if possible."
Mm, yes. Will do.
"For real?"
My power was god-rivaling transcendent. A fraction meant convenience, no accidents or illness deaths.
Expected pushback on causality whatever, but smooth.
Also, smoothing your rom-com? Dating there.
"Eh...? For real?"
Of course. Twenty years humming lovey songs—young heart intact. I know.
"Psh, how often did I even say it."
Haha, no coy now. Goddess-hero bond like ours? Spill your wants.
"Ahem."
She held back too, huh. Endgame now, though. Better than hoped: power slice, cash flow, luck blessings for dating and life.
'Smoothing too perfectly—first-meet vibes nagging.'
Soul contract unbreakable, 20-year bond. She'd deliver.
I believed.
"Fuck."
Yeah, my bad for trusting.
"No, Goddess?"
Something's wrong with the world I returned to.