There Is No Free Lunch
The first thing I saw the moment I possessed this game world was this message. Before it and after it, the only skill I ever received for free was this one.
There Is No Free Lunch in the World [SSS]
◎All party members' stats—stamina, mana, attack power, defense power, and more—are amplified.
◎All EXP you gain is transferred to your party members.
◎Transferred EXP and amplified stats are completely reset when the buff is removed.
◎The buff is automatically removed if you leave the party.
◎If you reveal the skill's contents or conditions to party members, the buff will be dispelled.
I have no idea who gave me this skill, why, or for what purpose. But after running multiple experiments, I learned I couldn't turn it on or off at will. Once I realized there was no way to escape this game, I took a job at a factory out of desperation—just to scrape together a few crumbs of bread. That's when I truly experienced what this skill could do.
“What the hell? I worked three straight days and nights, but I don't feel tired at all!”
“My head feels so sharp lately…”
“Hey, hasn't work gotten way easier these days?”
The laborers working with me saw their efficiency skyrocket. Rumors spread that the factory's products were top quality. Sales soared. The place that had been on the verge of collapse grew into a trading company invited to events by the city's guild. Money poured in like vines climbing a trellis, and the factory owner's face split into a grin every single day. His attitude toward the workers turned sweet as honey.
The man who used to spit the words “you worthless trash” now called us “my dear employees” in that oily voice. The laborers would joke that it made their throats feel greasy. Of course, I never had to worry about that.
“Oh… so our factory's one and only piece of trash still hasn't quit. You damn freeloader.”
The bastard who first slapped me with the nickname freeloader was none other than the factory owner. After I later devoured the Rune of Immortality, my appetite grew monstrous. Even I thought I ate too much. The name stuck with me for three years. But it all started with this prick.
“I just don't get it. Everyone else is sharp as a tack, so why are you the only one causing problems?”
He tapped my head with the suppression baton he used to beat unruly workers and started picking a fight. No one helped me. Well… of course not. They all felt the same way he did. Some of the other laborers even sneered at me, saying, “Why do you get the same pay as us when you don't do any work?”
But I had a body forged through five part-time jobs at once while sleeping in snatches, all to pay for my little sister's medicine. Don't do any work? Without any buff at all, I was grinding through eighteen-hour shifts every day on nothing but pure mental strength.
“How much do we pay you again? Hm? Werther.”
“One shilling, sir.”
“One shilling! We were giving you that much?”
“After buying one loaf of bread and a glass of milk a day, nothing's left.”
“One shilling is too much. How about five hundred cents?”
Five hundred cents. In other words, he wanted to cut my wages in half. That wouldn't even cover food.
“I heard the others got raises. Why am I the only one getting a pay cut?”
“Because you're the most useless one here!”
“…Do you know the factory's sales skyrocketed after I arrived? And I've worked without a single day off.”
“Ugh, you talk too damn much! Hey!”
“Ugh!”
The baton slammed into my solar plexus. It hurt like hell. Damn… he hit me wrong.
“Can't you read the room? This factory runs perfectly fine without a bastard like you! If you don't like it, get lost!”
“…Kgh.”
The factory owner hadn't been like this when I first arrived. Back then, no one wanted to work at a failing factory, so he was grateful even for a nameless bum like me. When I offered to work day and night if he let me sleep there, he even shook my hand in thanks.
“They say people change once they go to the bathroom and come back out…”
“What? You little shit. You glaring at me? Want me to beat your ass?”
“Haa… not even worth hitting.”
I really couldn't take it anymore. The pay was garbage and the treatment inhumane, but I'd endured it because I had nowhere else to go. The owner had forgotten any gratitude and rotted from the inside. Maybe this had been his true nature all along. Everyone gets humble when cornered—like how even the worst criminals cry and repent in front of a judge.
“Enjoy your life. Let's see how well the factory runs without me.”
“What? Pfft! Hahaha! This is hilarious! Get lost, you idiot! What use were you anyway!”
I threw down my work clothes without a shred of regret and walked out of the factory. No one tried to stop me. Naturally.
I heard the factory had gone under just two months later, while I was working at a new ranch. Once the buff disappeared, the workers became useless again. Product quality plummeted, and the trading companies that dealt with the factory sued the owner en masse for fraud. When things got bad, he immediately tried to slash labor costs. The workers, now used to good treatment, rioted and set the factory on fire. From what I heard, the owner was badly injured, lost every penny he'd earned in damages, and was buried under massive debt.
“Tsk tsk… acting all high and mighty when things were going well. Hm? Come to think of it, Werther, didn't you work at that factory?”
“Did I, boss?”
“‘Did I’? Kid, is that the only way you can talk? You're really hopeless. All the other employees are improving every day, but you're still stuck in the same place!”
The ranch owner who had laughed at the factory owner's downfall ended up kicking me out and collapsing in almost the exact same pattern. This cycle repeated endlessly. Any group that succeeded thanks to my skill would inevitably grow arrogant. They convinced themselves every success was because they were so talented and blamed the one person who wasn't growing—me.
…Of course I wasn't growing. The buff didn't apply to me. But because of that damn activation condition, I couldn't tell them, “Hey, I've been buffing all of you this whole time.”
Still——I honestly thought the hero party would be different.
After all, weren't the hero and his companions supposed to be far nobler and more altruistic than some shabby factory in a poor neighborhood or a ranch that survived by milking black cows? At first, I was too dazed from suddenly entering a game world to think straight. But I soon grew desperate thinking about the sister waiting for me.
“Oppa… I'm sorry. Because of me, you dropped out of school…”
“All your friends are in college enjoying their youth, but you're working day and night…”
“Do you hate me, Jiwon?”
“I won't take my medicine. If I die quickly, you'll be free, right…?”
“Oppa. Do I bother you?”
“You won't abandon me, right, oppa?”
My sister, weakened in both body and heart by her illness. She was actually such a good kid… but seeing me struggle with hard labor made her incredibly anxious.
“You can't suddenly disappear, oppa.”
Why would I disappear, you silly girl? I stroked her head and told her she could relax. She smiled and clutched her chest in relief… Those memories brought me back to my senses.
I had to return to my sister. There was no visible way out of the game, so I had no choice but to pin my hopes on the clear condition that said “Any wish will be granted.” I wasn't asking for cheats like “Grant me a hundred wishes” or “Make the world's most beautiful woman fall in love with me” or “Give me eternal youth.” Simply sending me back to my original world should be perfectly reasonable.
I would defeat the Demon King for my sister's sake. With that single thought, I approached the hero party. With my buff, the hero party would become insanely strong. Then they could use that power to defeat the Demon King and clear the game. After that, I'd simply ask for my modest wish and say goodbye. Perfect. It was a truly perfect plan.
——Or so I thought.
“Haa… fuck. I never imagined the hero party would be the worst group I'd ever been part of. I actually miss that factory owner. It was absolute shit. Let's never see each other again. Whether you kill the Demon King or die trying, I don't give a damn anymore.”
Just remembering what happened before I joined the party was exhausting. I didn't even want to drag up all the shitty things that occurred after I entered it. I had been expelled from the party. No… I had been liberated.
I no longer needed to stand there pretending not to hear while Cynthia hurled insults at me. I didn't have to act as Jeanne's sword practice dummy and risk having my limbs broken every day. I wouldn't have to be Sharon's emotional trash can while she acted all haughty but watched everyone else's reactions, nor endure sleepless nights from the role-reversal confession sessions with Saintess Teresa.
Most of all, I wouldn't have to tense up every time that damn Leonhart bastard picked weird fights with me for no reason.
“Haa~ So this is what freedom feels like. It's been a while—let's eat, drink, and enjoy ourselves. As a celebration for being freed from all that abuse, how about hitting up a tavern?”
From now on, I planned to completely cut ties with that dogshit hero party and erase them from my mind. But those bastards blocked my path even in the tavern where I went to knock back a couple of beers.
It wasn't that I ran into the hero party at the tavern. The taverns had all closed because the hero party—who should have been heading toward the Demon Continent where the Demon King lived—had returned to the capital almost at the same time as me, right after we split up. Everyone had rushed out to watch their return procession.
“The hero and his party are back, so everyone's going crazy trying to see the procession. Even if I open the tavern, no one's gonna come drink.”
“…Who cares about those bastards. Just give me a beer.”
“Hey, you! If you're a person, you should respect the hero!”
Respect that guy?
“They're probably coming back after annihilating the Demon King's army. We should celebrate grandly.”
“Annihilating the Demon King's army my ass.”
“Wait, why have you been acting like this since earlier? Are you a spy for the Demon King's army or something?”
The tavern owner started throwing out weird suspicions, so I got annoyed and just left. Because of that damn hero party, I couldn't even drink when I wanted to. Why the hell did they return to the capital at exactly this timing—my question was soon answered.
The tavern owner came back from watching the hero party's procession with a sour face and opened for business. Customers who wanted to drown their frustration in alcohol quickly packed the place.
“Did you see? That was the hero party?”
“It wasn't a carriage, it was an ambulance. They were all wrapped head to toe in bandages…”
“I heard they didn't even get near the Demon Continent and almost died to orcs?”
“They came back to the capital for treatment, apparently.”
“What a waste of taxes.”
“Right? We're pouring the money we earned with blood and sweat into supporting trash like them! Don't you agree, owner?”
“I completely agree! I'm pissed off too! Screw it, drinks on me! One round for everyone! Huh? You were here earlier…”
“I heard the tavern opened. Can I get a drink too?”
“…Hmph!”
Thanks to the hero party, something good finally happened. I got free beer. I'd struggled for three years, and my wallet was still thin.
“Khhhh!! Beer you can drink without worrying about anyone watching is truly something special!”
Normally, if I tried to drink, a nun like Teresa would always nag me, calling it “poison that corrupts the soul.” It had been so long since I'd been to a tavern.
“You're lucky!”
“Ahh… beer really hits the spot.”
“No, I mean you're lucky because you hate the hero party.”
“Yeah. I hate them to death. Why?”
“The hero party went three whole years without a single casualty.”
It seemed the tavern owner was one of those mint-chocolate fans who had placed far too much faith in the hero. Seeing the party—which was basically a gathering of injured patients—for the first time had clearly disappointed him greatly. Plus, as expected of a tavern owner, his ears were sharp with rumors.
“They say someone finally died this time.”
“…What?”
A death?
“…Who died?”
“Who was it again…”
I savored the taste of beer on my tongue for the first time in ages and listened to the name absentmindedly.