Toying with the Hero is Too Much Fun
I was staring at a new post, my eyes narrowed. The username reeked of a total newbie, and the guy was defending the hero. Of course, the hero had his share of supporters. After all, he was the hero. But something felt off.
‘The username, the way he writes, even the tone… something’s weird.’
I narrowed my eyes further. One person came to mind.
‘No way…’
On a whim, I replied to him.
The community’s top name had responded to a newbie. Yet VerminFashionista’s reply was surprisingly calm. That was all the confirmation I needed.
“A guy who sides with the hero doesn’t hate me?”
The hero had fans, and they hated me for standing up to him at the cafeteria. But VerminFashionista’s reaction was different. He said the Mercenary King was fine. That made no sense at all.
‘Only the person himself would say something that ridiculous.’
He was lying because he felt guilty. I slowly nodded and spoke his true identity.
“It’s the hero.”
Even his writing style matched the hero’s. I remembered it now. And the hero’s birthplace was Vermin. It was a secret most people didn’t know, but I’d heard it during our party days.
The hero had clearly tried hard to hide his identity. But he was still a newbie, and my eyes weren’t so easily fooled. A wicked smile crept across my face.
“Revealing his identity right away… that’d be boring.”
I could’ve exposed him on the spot and driven him out in disgrace. But that wouldn’t be fun. Even if I outed him, he’d just make a new account. ‘Though the writing style would give him away again…’ Or he’d just lurk like before. It would be far more entertaining to pretend I didn’t know and toy with him instead.
I wrote my next post immediately.
The hero himself must’ve realized how suspicious that sounded. He’d defended the hero, then claimed the Mercenary King was fine. That was why he was acting so flustered. I couldn’t stop grinning.
Then I launched my finishing blow.
Obviously bullshit. I roughly knew the real reason, but I couldn’t say it. The moment I did, everyone would realize I was the Mercenary King. Instead, I repeated the rumor spreading through the community.
“Pfft.”
Toying with him was way too fun. I could barely contain myself. Meanwhile, other users were posting jealous comments about how friendly I was being.
Maybe I’d been playing with the hero too much. I chatted with the other users too, mostly roasting the hero together. It was pretty entertaining, especially messing with VerminFashionista while he kept trying to subtly defend the hero.
Before I knew it, time had flown by.
“Already this late?”
I’d overworked myself as Trickster. It was time to sleep. I lay down on the bed with a satisfied smile. The thought of toying with the hero on the community tomorrow filled me with unbearable excitement.
Maybe it was because I went to bed in such a good mood, but I had a dream for the first time in a while.
‘Where is this…?’
It was a dream showing the past exactly as it had happened. I instantly knew I was dreaming. How could I not, when—
Thud.
“Guh.”
“Hah! Is that all you’ve got? How are you supposed to stay in our party like this?”
The hero was beating me up, using training as an excuse. It was a sight I couldn’t even imagine now.
‘Ah, so it’s that time…’
In the dream, the hero wore an obviously foul expression. He was taking out his bad mood on me. It was a pretty vicious sight. He stepped on me while I was down, tormenting me.
“What? You want to leave the party? I’ll let you go if you say so.”
“Ghh… N-no, sir.”
Back then, I’d stubbornly clung to the hero’s party out of sheer spite. Even I thought it was pretty stupid. Still, I couldn’t figure out why I was suddenly dreaming of this.
I watched myself being stepped on and realized something.
‘Ah, right. This was right after he got rejected by the Pope.’
The hero had a reason for being in such a bad mood. He wanted to marry the Saintess. He’d made it painfully obvious how much he liked her even back then. Of course, he’d given us some excuse about it being necessary for world peace with no personal motives involved. At the time, we still hadn’t signed a truce with the Demon King, so it wasn’t entirely unreasonable. A child born between them could prepare for an uncertain future.
Anyway, the hero had gone all the way to the Holy Kingdom to ask the Pope for permission. But the Saintess was bound to the Church. She couldn’t just marry anyone. There was an exception, though—if the Pope gave his approval. There had been precedents. Unfortunately for the hero… the Pope refused. Very politely, of course, since he was the hero. But the shock was enormous.
He’d been sure the Pope would agree. A refusal? So he stayed in the Holy Kingdom, investigating every angle, even resorting to bribes, until he found the reason.
‘I told you. This is a class-based society.’
In the end, it was because the hero’s origins were too lowly. By then he’d just become a noble, granted a family name for his achievements, but no territory. He was a noble in name only. That didn’t sit well with the Pope, who ruled the Holy Kingdom and saw the Saintess as his own daughter. He wanted her married to someone with proper standing. A hero without land didn’t qualify.
Still, he allowed the Saintess to remain in the hero’s party. The hero was one of the strongest people in the world; it would’ve been a waste to discard him so easily.
Once the hero learned the truth, he was devastated. ‘That shock made him torment me even more.’ And he started taking it out on me. Those were painful days. Eventually, after tormenting me to his heart’s content, he kicked me out of the party. I remembered it vividly because it had been so hard on me too.
This dream wasn’t random. I could guess why. It was because of the hero and Saintess still hanging around together. The hero had already signed a truce with the Demon King, so there was no need to keep the party together. Yet strangely, the Saintess and hero were still together—or rather, they’d split and recently reunited.
I had my own theory.
‘They must’ve made some secret deal with the Pope.’
What the hero lacked was territory. But an opportunity had appeared. Not just any land, but a massive fief including the great city of Trier—the one the generous King of Aachen had promised to the top graduate. Both the hero and the Pope must’ve been eyeing it greedily.
‘Maybe they made a deal: if the hero becomes top graduate, the Pope will allow the marriage to the Saintess.’
A wandering noble would instantly become a great noble. The Pope would definitely approve. That might be why the Saintess was staying with the hero. It seemed like the Pope had given her orders.
From my perspective, it was absurd.
‘Who decided the hero gets to be top graduate?’
The Pope had bet on the hero and even put up the Saintess as collateral. But they didn’t know about me. Or rather, they hadn’t considered me.
‘I’m not letting the hero take first place.’
I wasn’t someone they could take lightly. Especially not when it came to letting the hero succeed.
‘The hero gets a huge territory and the Saintess too? Like hell I’m watching that happen.’
Maybe I was too worked up, but—
“Haa, it was just a dream after all.”
I sighed and got out of bed.
“Having such a shitty dream…”
It was a nightmare, considering how good a mood I’d been in when I fell asleep. But it wasn’t all bad. It was a chance to reaffirm my goals.
‘I have to get back to Earth no matter what. Buy Bitcoin and live in luxury for the rest of my life. But…’
Even if I couldn’t become top graduate… I would never let the hero succeed. That dream had reminded me of something important.