The Bitch Who Stepped on My Head

The bitch I wanted to curse out... No, the princess—Cynthia, who pissed me off to death. The first time I met the woman whose name I wanted to skip entirely and just call a bitch, that bitch, came flooding back to me.

“What the hell are you?! Looking all filthy like that! How do you even have the nerve to say you want to join the hero party?! Haven’t you considered how embarrassing it would be for us to travel with you? I-di-ot! You loser!”

Ah. Even thinking about it now makes my blood boil. I’d rushed over after hearing the hero chosen by the oracle was adventuring nearby, only to get verbally shredded on the spot by some roll-haired mage. Those were the first words I ever heard from Cynthia, and they marked the beginning of the endless barrage of insults that followed.

“Please! I really want to defeat the Demon King! I’ll definitely contribute to killing the Demon King on the Demon Continent together with the hero… and the mage…!”

“Kyaaahahaha! What help could someone like you possibly be? What skills do you even have?”

I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs that I had an SSS-rank skill that would buff all of them, so they should welcome me with open arms, but if I did that the skill wouldn’t activate. I had no choice but to stay silent.

“None? Where are you from, anyway? What’s your background?”

“…I’m just an orphan. But my determination to kill the Demon King is sincere.”

“No. Get lost.”

“…………”

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠feeling of a shoe heel gently pressing down on top of my head. I was politely bowing and asking for a favor, and this roll-haired bitch was stepping on me? I’d been slapped by a foul-tempered boss while doing delivery part-time, but this was my first experience having my head stepped on.

That time with the boss was whatever. The guy couldn’t speak without attaching “fuck” to everything. When a foreign worker made a small mistake, he beat him in front of everyone. I stepped in to stop it and got hit myself. I already knew the bastard was crazy, so instead of being shocked by the slap, I thought fine, let’s do this. All the other employees were on my side, and in the end the guy got reported and transferred. It didn’t remain a terrible memory.

But this… this was different.

“Hm? Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you getting excited from being stepped on by a beautiful girl like me? Per-ver-t!”

This girl was supposed to be part of the hero party meant to save humanity, not some middle-aged manual laborer with no education! So why the hell was she acting like this?

“Why should we accept a loser like you who has no skills and doesn’t look like you have any money? Write out a hundred reasons based on the five W’s and one H.”

“…I-I’ll do anything, so please accept me.”

“Why? Because I’m cute?”

“……….”

Endure it. I had to endure. I endured by thinking of my little sister. For the sake of my truly adorable little sister. I told myself this was like applying for a job at a major corporation and wrote the damn thing.

I erased it countless times, squeezing out every last drop like I was wringing a dried squid, and somehow managed to complete all one hundred reasons. For reference, by the time I reached the hundredth one I had nothing left, so I threw in some flattery—“Because I admire the roll-haired mage”—to try and score points.

But.

“Hmph!”

“Ah! You didn’t even read it before tearing it up!”

“You’re too weak to be useful as a party member! You said you’d do anything? Then I’ll accept you as a porter who does chores! You’re a porter! Got it?!”

I looked at the hero with desperate eyes, hoping he wouldn’t just stand by and watch this tyranny, but it was useless. Instead of stopping Cynthia, Leonhart didn’t show me the slightest interest and was completely absorbed in drinking his meat soup. I didn’t know it then—that the bastard would never once be any help to me in my entire life.

“…Ugh. If you’ll just kill the Demon King somehow—”

“Haah? That’s not it, is it? It should be ‘Please let me become the slave of the beautiful Lady Cynthia.’”

“……….”

“What’s with those rebellious eyes? If you don’t like it, then forget I said anything. Get lost! I-di-ot! Incompetent! Loser!”

“………”

Did I really say that? That’s a secret. Anyway, I’ll just say I successfully joined the hero party as a porter. And it was from that exact day that Cynthia’s name began to be recorded in my personal blacklist as that bitch.

The so-called hero was muttering lazy nonsense like “Is it really okay to accept someone whose origin is unclear?” From that day onward, every single dirty job in the party became mine.

At least back then the party only consisted of the hero and the mage, so taking care of them wasn’t ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that difficult. Having spent years attending to my little sister who couldn’t even move from her bed, I was confident in caregiving duties.

Even if that meant I alone handled everything—waking up at dawn to prepare breakfast, waking the hero and mage like a nanny, standing guard while they stuffed their faces, washing dishes after meals, carrying all the luggage while we traveled, asking locals for regional information when we arrived somewhere, setting up tents, and every other chore imaginable. Compared to my normal life of working five part-time jobs and then doing housework and nursing my sister, at least my body didn’t feel too strained.

The difficult part was… my mind.

“Werther. You’re desperate to earn my approval, aren’t you? The pork spine soup you made this time was pretty tasty. As a reward, I’ll step on you, so you can kneel if you want.”

“I’ll pass. Hurry up and eat so you can sleep.”

Holding back the urge to rip out that bitch’s buck teeth took every ounce ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of my mental energy. Think of my sister. Endure.

Hoo… Thank you, my angel. My mental sparkling water. If I didn’t have you to think about, I feel like I’d crumble.

“Hm? You’re smiling? So you really do want to be stepped on. Come here. I’ll specially step on your face with my bare feet.”

“…………”

She was the first woman who ever made me think about killing her. But I endured it. No matter how much of a bitch she was, she was still a mage. An essential member the party needed. Besides… if I killed Cynthia, I’d be stuck traveling alone with the hero bastard, and that was also subtly unpleasant.

By this point I was already slowly developing doubts about the hero. I was just stubbornly covering my own eyes because I didn’t want to lose hope, desperately escaping from reality.

It had been quite a while since I started following these people, yet I still hadn’t seen the hero hunt monsters in a satisfying way even once. Whenever monsters did appear, Cynthia usually took care of them with her magic. That was one of the reasons I didn’t strangle her in her sleep. If she weren’t here, wouldn’t our party just get wiped out?

There was no doubt that Leonhart was the hero since he possessed the holy sword. But this bastard… wasn’t he ridiculously weak? The anxiety refused to leave my head.

The relationship between Cynthia and the hero was also quite suspicious. Cynthia’s verbal abuse was directed solely at me; she never subjected the hero to it. No, it wasn’t just that she didn’t insult him—they barely even talked to each other. It didn’t feel like they were on bad terms, more like they simply weren’t close.

They always booked separate accommodations, and we had to go through the hassle of preparing two tents. Of course, setting up the tents was my job. Once the two of them went into their respective tents to sleep, I had to sit on a chair and stand guard while staring at the stars in the night sky. Truly horrible.

“How did you two end up meeting?”

We couldn’t find proper lodging so we made camp and lit a bonfire. As I watched Leonhart and Cynthia eating the soup I’d made from across the flames, the question slipped out before I could stop myself. I basically had no intention of becoming friends with them—I planned to use them dispassionately and then part ways—so I had never asked personal questions before. My unusual behavior drew an intense reaction from the party members.

“Hiiik! What is it, Werther! You wanted to know about me that badly? Ah! Could it be jealousy? Are you jealous of me and the hero? You’re scary! Goosebumps!”

That bitch, seriously.

“What are you going to do with that information? Werther.”

“I’m not going to do anything with it. I’m just curious.”

“……….”

Leonhart still seemed to find me suspicious and glared at me for a moment before snorting and telling me about their first meeting—the one I hadn’t known about.

“It’s not much different from your case. I received the oracle at the temple and became the hero. While I was adventuring to defeat the Demon King, I met Cynthia. She boldly asked to join the party, and we’ve been traveling together ever since. That’s all.”

“Then what was Cynthia doing before she met the hero?”

“Hiiik! Stalker! Scary! Goosebuuuumps!”

“I’m not asking you, bitch! Just eat your damn soup!”

“He’s getting angry because I won’t pay attention to him! Dating violence!”

Sigh. It was my own fault for asking that kind of girl anything. When you’re sitting by a bonfire under the night sky, it’s only human to feel a little sentimental, right? I was an idiot for letting the flames tempt me into trying to have a human conversation with that bitch.

I kicked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠off from my spot and started walking around the area.

“Hey stalker! Are you going to kill yourself because I rejected you? Of course with your skills you’d die to a slime, but unfortunately there are no monsters in this region! Kyahaha! A loser who can’t even die properly!”

Ignore. Ignore. I ignored her while thinking of my sister.

“Oppa, you really can do anything. It’s admirable.”

Jiwon often said things that raised a man’s self-esteem. That bitch, on the other hand… sigh, never mind. Comparing my precious family to that roll-haired bitch is already an insult to her. I’m sorry, Jiwon.

And please just shut your mouth, Cynthia. I already know there are no monsters around here. I know, but I’m walking around on purpose. Because the Rune of Immortality is somewhere near here.

“It was originally a rune the hero should eat… But that hero doesn’t seem very reliable. The travel route keeps strangely moving farther away from the Demon Continent. Even if I let a guy like that eat the rune, I doubt he’d use it properly.”

The Rune of Immortality only prevented death. It didn’t make you stronger, and it didn’t remove pain. Without indomitable mental strength and courage, it was nothing more than the ability to become an indestructible sandbag. Maybe I should just eat it myself… With that thought, I glanced sideways toward the bonfire.

I could barely sense any presence. Both Cynthia and Leonhart were sitting there without saying a word, just eating their soup.

…It really does get quiet when I disappear.

Even from this distance, the awkward atmosphere seemed to reach me. Ah. They must have finished eating; they were getting up. They put their bowls in the dish bin and headed into their tents without so much as a greeting.

…Shouldn’t they clean up what they ate themselves? Was washing dishes obviously my responsibility? It suddenly pissed me off. Dishwashing is such a pain in the ass…

I’ve decided right now. I’m eating the Rune of Immortality myself.