If Kindness Continues, They Think It's Their Right
There is a saying: if you keep showing kindness, people will eventually think it is their right.
“What are you doing, Werther? Go fight. A superior goblin just appeared.”
This is all my fault.
“Isn’t it Mr. Werther’s role to take the lead and drain the monster’s stamina…?”
I helped them too much.
“We can’t dirty the Hero’s Holy Sword with the blood of mere goblins. Freeloader Werther. I’ll give you the chance to earn your keep.”
These bitches are treating me like a total pushover. There’s no need to even mention their names. Bitch 1, 2, and 3 is more than enough.
Ah. But there is one exception.
“Kyahahaha! What are you dawdling for, Werther? It couldn’t possibly be that you don’t want to fight—or that you’re thinking why do I have to take on all the painful roles—or that the Hero should just fight instead—could it? Our statuses are different! Our statuses!”
This one deserves to be named. Cynthia de Lydorphia. She’s supposedly royalty from some empire, but that’s none of my business. She’s just a bitch who ran away from the imperial palace chasing freedom and now struts around in leather armor that leaves her cleavage on full display.
Her current occupation is Mage (laughable). As expected of royalty, she throws her weight around in the Hero’s party. She was the one who let me join in the first place.
The reason was, “Although he’s a commoner with no abilities, that makes him perfect to use as a meaningless, mechanical pack mule.”
Being stupid and incompetent is actually a servant’s talent, or so she claimed.
Yeah. None of it was ever my business anyway.
“How could the Hero, who bears the grave duty of fighting the Demon King alongside me—an imperial princess—bother with something as vulgar as goblins? We’ll deliver the finishing blow, so go tank like you’re supposed to. Kyaha—hahaha!”
“……….”
It really wasn’t any of my business.
The party members’ personalities, how they treated me, whether they liked me or not—none of it mattered. As long as these people defeated the Demon King and cleared the mission, I had no intention of asking for anything beyond that.
To defeat the Demon King, it was better if the party members loved the Hero, so the fact that they didn’t like me was actually a relief.
“You i-di-ot! Loser! Trash! Incompetent commoner!”
“He’s not a commoner, he’s a plebeian, isn’t he?”
“You finally opened your mouth? Of course you did. Were you staging some kind of silent protest? Now that you’re talking, go fight the goblin!”
“……”
“What? You don’t want to? If someone whose only talent is endurance refuses to stand on the front line, what right do you have to stay in this party?”
“…Goblins are weak, sure, but a superior goblin is a different story. It’s a monster that ranks among the strong. Why should I be the only one taking the risk?”
“Because it’s dangerous, using you as bait to test its strength lets us gather combat data for ourselves and the Hero. Contribute to the party even in that way, you parasite! Do you have any idea how much money we waste feeding you?”
“……”
“It’s not like you die anyway!”
A body that doesn’t die. A parasite that wastes food money.
—Everyone agrees.
How the hell did I end up like this?
It all started with my sister’s suggestion. “This is a popular game these days, oppa. Wanna try it?”
A game I began at my beloved sister’s request. I don’t even remember the title anymore. Something about an empire, I think, but no one cares about titles.
Since I couldn’t refuse my sick little sister, I cleared the game diligently even while juggling part-time jobs. She seemed to enjoy watching videos of me playing and would sit beside me.
They were warm times.
Until I got possessed by this goddamn game.
When I came to my senses, I was a nameless orphan, a commoner with no family. No matter how much I searched, there was no way out.
Clearing the game will grant one wish.
Believing only in that message, I approached the Hero’s party. They had to kill the Demon King so the game could be cleared.
Up to that point, it was fine. It was fine… until I realized that an extra’s body didn’t have enough lives no matter how many you stacked.
Even though it was a game, death was terrifying. No—more than death, my pathetic state of trembling even before weak bandit groups disgusted me.
Whether I left the Hero’s party or stayed, things couldn’t continue like this. So I committed a foul.
This game hid growth items everywhere for the player’s level-up. The so-called Runes. Obtain them by fulfilling certain conditions and they would awaken special abilities—grateful little things.
Among them, I swallowed the easiest one to obtain and the one I needed most right now.
◈ Grants absolute immortality and rapid regeneration
◈ Pain is not negated
A dream item that lets you recover instantly from any damage, never die even if you drink lethal poison, take a bullet through the temple, or get stabbed through the heart.
It was originally meant for the Hero… but I got greedy to save my own skin.
Honestly, I felt a little sorry. In the proper story, it was power meant for him.
So, with the concept of atonement, I decided to stay by their side.
“From now on, I’ll handle all the dangerous and dirty work.”
I believed that if I used this ability to its fullest to help them, the dirty feeling in my chest would disappear.
I believed… but these bitches gradually began to treat me like a fool.
It started as “A monster appeared! Help me, Werther!” then slowly became “A monster, Werther?” without the “help me.” Eventually it shortened to them simply glancing at me after saying “A monster appeared,” and finally it turned into “A monster showed up—what are you doing?” My role as a meat shield had become an obvious duty.
The problem was that I simply didn’t die. My attack power was zero, so my battles were always a spectacular, desperate struggle. Being beaten all over my body was normal. Skin torn, bones broken—there were even times when my eyeballs were ripped out. Strangely, everything recovered.
While I offered my body to the monsters, the rest of the party analyzed the enemy’s strength and prepared countermeasures. Thanks to that method, we miraculously became famous as the party where no one ever died.
Lately the dependence on me had grown even worse. The battle pattern changed to me getting the shit beaten out of me until the monster’s health bottomed out, after which the Hero would take the last hit.
…Honestly, I was exhausted.
In every way, reality weighed heavy.
Hunting monsters in a game and preparing for war in reality were on completely different levels of difficulty. We were nothing but a pathetic party that took the long way around just to lower the death rate, while the Demon King’s army remained far beyond our reach.
The reason I never refused the dirty work in the Hero’s party was solely to kill the Demon King and return home to my sister who was waiting for me.
My sister is so ill she cannot live alone. The reason I dropped out of high school and worked part-time jobs without rest was to pay the hospital bills. My sister, who cannot even rise from her bed, cannot eat unless I feed her.
“…Anyway, Jiwon’s probably already dead.”
“Ha? What did you just say, Werther?”
“Sigh… It’s nothing, Cynthia. It’s not a name I want dirtying your filthy ears.”
This time, determined not to fight, I slowly lifted my hips. I could feel the party members glaring at me. It felt exactly like being the kid who brings the bread. The accusing eyes seemed to ask why I was ruining the pleasant atmosphere by acting out when everyone would be happy if I just quietly did as told.
Especially Cynthia—she was cursing me with every foul word she knew.
“…Is this the reward for risking my life in battle? Well… we’re strangers anyway.”
If not family, then strangers. No matter how well you treat them, you only become a pushover. That is the truth of this world.
I miss my sister.
“Kwaaaaaah!”
“Shut up, you goblin bastard.”
A one-on-one standoff with the monster. The party members are dozens of meters away, leisurely enjoying tea time while they watch. This sight has become all too familiar.
“If I wipe out the Hero’s party, Lord Demon King will reward me handsomely… Hehehe.”
“Is that so? Then give it your best shot.”
“Hmm? What are you? Your eyes are already dead.”
Of course they are. The chance of reuniting with my only sister grows smaller with every passing day.
It has already been three years since I was possessed here. I don’t know whether time flows at the same rate inside the game and in reality, but no matter how optimistically I look at it, my sister’s chance of survival is zero.
That kid… can’t last even a week without me. She’s the type who refuses to take her medicine if I don’t feed it to her myself.
“…She’s probably already dead.”
“Aah? Who are you talking about?”
The three-meter-tall green goblin bares its vicious fangs. Hmm… sharp. Sharp enough to pierce my carotid artery and end me cleanly.
“…The only hope left of meeting my sister is to bet on the afterlife.”
“I don’t know what nonsense you’re spouting, but you’re not the Hero, are you? Then get lost! I have no business with a small fry!”
Fortunately, Mr. Goblin did exactly what I wanted and sank his teeth into my throat.
It hurts. It stings. I can feel the warm blood running down my spine.
“Huh…? Isn’t this strange?”
“Werther’s blood isn’t stopping.”
“By now the wound should be healing and the goblin should be panicking.”
The bitches finally started to panic, speaking in worried tones. What exactly are they worried about? Me? Or the fact that they’ll have to fight the goblin themselves once I’m dead?
…Well, it doesn’t matter either way. I wanted to die, so I turned the Rune of Immortality OFF.
Besides, the other women except for Cynthia weren’t bitches to the bone; they had simply grown so used to my sacrifices that they forgot to feel gratitude.
Even so, it isn’t strange for them to show some concern when a comrade they’ve traveled with for so long is dying.
I have no regrets. I have no fear.
Whether it’s because I’ve been beaten so much or because the goblin’s killing technique is excellent, it doesn’t hurt as much as I expected. It was a clean reaper that only took life.
Thank you.
With this, there is at least a small chance I can meet my sister.
I never had any particular religion, but now I suppose I’ll believe in God based on Pascal’s wager.
‘God. Please send me to the same heaven as Jiwon… That kid can’t even turn the lights off at night because she’s scared without me.’
My eyes slowly close.
Ah. I said I had no regrets, but now that I think about it, there is one thing that still bothers me.
I wonder what expression Cynthia is making right now—the one who pushed me to die.
Her Highness the Princess, who always assigned every chore to me, probably won’t bat an eye at losing one pack mule. It must feel like a child who can receive as many toys as she wants from her parents losing a single doll she used to play with. I wouldn’t know; I’ve lived poor my whole life.
‘I don’t like that the last scene of my life is that bitch Cynthia’s face… but I’m curious, so maybe I’ll steal one last look.’
At the edge of my fading consciousness, I barely managed to turn my head.
There stands Cynthia, frozen like a stone statue.
But… is it my imagination? Why is she trembling with a face like she has witnessed the end of the world?
Could Cynthia actually be in despair over my death?
‘Sigh… No way.’
‘I’ve lost too much blood. My judgment is failing.’
The last laugh was self-mockery at the impossible illusion my dying brain had created.
With that self-deprecation as my final thought, I drew my last breath.
This life ended after doing nothing but help others.
In the next life, I won’t live like this.
Never…