Chapter 3: Destined to Be a Heel Wipe

Released:

The day I came back from dying once in World 2, I was invited to dinner by Old Man Bulldog.

“What? You’re retiring?”

And then, I heard something like a bolt out of the blue.

It was the news of Old Man Bulldog’s retirement.

I was taken aback.

The man still had plenty of years left to live, and yet he was already talking about retirement?

I wondered if he had lost his mind.

“I’ve lived pretty earnestly as a pioneer all this time. Unlike other pioneers, I worked solo, so I made a decent amount of money.”

That part I already knew.

It was partly because of that very reason that I wanted to learn the ways of a pioneer and a mage from him.

Rather than teaming up with the uncivilized natives of this other world, I figured it was better to work alone as a pioneer.

“This time, I caught the noble snake and managed to save up just about the amount I’d planned for. At this point, I can retire and live comfortably. I can get by doing small-time work, like a street mage.”

It seemed Old Man Bulldog had been planning his retirement for quite a while.

“More than anything, something happened this time.”

He rubbed his neck.

It was the very same neck that had been completely severed earlier that day.

“I always knew pioneer work was dangerous, but after nearly dying, the thought crossed my mind…‘I should at least live to see my grandchild’s face’.”

He didn’t almost die. He did die.

In the end, it was death that made him decide.

That damned thing….death.

It never helped, not even once.

“……”

There was nothing I could do but stay silent.

My position was just that of a porter.

Not even a teammate, just someone who carried luggage.

I had no right to ask him to continue working as a pioneer for my sake.

“Haru, I feel sorry for you. From your point of view, it’s like suddenly losing your job.”

At least he understood.

“Ahem, so I figured this might be a good opportunity to teach you a bit of the magic you kept begging for.”

“What—damn it, you should’ve started with that! Please retire immediately!”

It was a good thing Old Man Bulldog had died once and retired today!

Resurrection is the best! Serial killers are the best!

As I danced with joy, Old Man Bulldog looked at me with an utterly dumbfounded expression.

“Damn brat, do you want to learn magic that badly?”

“I believe that a life spent nobly casting magic from the rear is far more beautiful than dying like a fool at the frontlines.”

I was naturally built for long-range combat.

The thought of swinging a sword in a fight terrified me.

It absolutely had nothing to do with getting kicked out of the training center for lacking basic physical ability.

Even back when I used to play games, I always picked the mage class.

“You idiot. That’s just because you’ve only ever gone out with me. Do you think being a mage is safe? Magic beasts have brains too, you know. They instinctively target mages first because they’re the weakest!”

“Which is exactly why I want to become a battle mage like you, old man.”

“Damn brat, you sure know how to run your mouth.”

Old Man Bulldog pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth.

Even during dinner, he smoked without hesitation. This just went to show the brutal state of magical education.

And yet, tonight, even that looked cool.

It was the rugged charm of a skilled mage.

A powerful mage could get away with things like that.

If anyone gave him crap about smoking, he could just burn them with magic.

“You’ve got some money saved up, right?”

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to take my snot-nosed savings?”

“Hell no, I’ve got no interest in your money. I’m saying it because you won’t be able to work as a porter while you’re studying.”

Luckily, I happened to pick up an expensive potion earlier today.

Selling that would keep me fed for a while.

“Yes! I’ll study hard!”

“So, you’ve finally decided to take Haru in as your disciple?”

At that moment, Old Man Bulldog’s wife appeared.

She was a graceful woman who looked nothing like the gruff old man.

Though she was in her early thirties, she still looked like she could easily pass for someone in her mid-twenties.

“Yes! I’ll study hard, and when people ask who my teacher is, I’ll proudly say there’s no mage greater than Bulldog.”

I jumped to my feet and made a vow, which made his wife smile warmly.

“Lucky you, having such a good disciple.”

“Like hell it’s good. Just don’t run off halfway saying you can’t do it.”

“I won’t run away even if it kills me.”

“You’ll probably end up bawling, begging me to kill you instead.”

And just like that, I became Bulldog’s disciple.

He might’ve spoken harshly, but I could tell he had taken quite a liking to me.

As expected of someone I’d ranked in the top five kindest people in this uncivilized otherworld.

That very day, Bulldog’s magic lessons began.

To get straight to the point. I turned out to have a real knack for magic.

The only downside was… it wasn’t your typical kind of magic.

“Light attribute, holy magic, huh!”

Bulldog let out a surprised exclamation.

Today was the magic aptitude test.

And the result? Holy magic.

Holy magic.

In simpler terms, light-type magic that buffs allies or heals their wounds.

Which basically means…

I was useless without teammates. A complete deadweight on my own.

My face twisted into a scowl.

Fire would’ve been fine, water would’ve been okay, earth would’ve been great, and even darkness I could’ve lived with.

But why, of all things, did I have to get stuck with holy magic?

I’ve been in this pioneering business for a while now.

And every holy mage I’ve met acted all high and mighty, looking down on everyone else.

In fact, among the pioneers, holy mages were treated like nobility.

Naturally, someone like me wasn’t even worth their attention, never even exchanged a word with one.

“Brat, holy magic is a jackpot! You’ve got no idea how many people are dying to recruit a holy mage to their team.”

Even Bulldog said that, which showed just how rare and valuable holy mages were.

Pioneers fight magical beasts day in and day out and get wounded constantly.

A holy mage who could heal those wounds with a single spell? Anyone can see they’re an invaluable asset.

But here’s the catch….holy mages can’t work alone.

“…You’re not a holy mage, old man.”

What I wanted wasn’t to be some backline healer pumping out support….I wanted to be a solo-type battle mage like Bulldog.

Today, my dream was shattered.

“Ahem… So, you really wanted to be like me that badly, huh, brat?”

For some reason, Bulldog looked proud.

“Still… is there any chance I could learn a different attribute of magic?”

Bulldog himself could wield both fire and lightning magic.

So I figured maybe there was still a sliver of hope.

“No, it’s going to be difficult. Your affinity is far too skewed toward light. Thanks to that, your holy magic will be absurdly efficient, but honestly, achieving anything with other attributes will be tough.”

But the answer that came back was pure despair.

“Brat, listen. This kind of pure light attribute potential is ridiculously rare. You’ve got the makings of a top-tier holy mage!”

Bulldog looked at me, puzzled by my gloomy expression.

“Really, light affinity this pure is almost unheard of. You sure you don’t have some unknown ability? Attributes can be influenced by special abilities too, you know.”

In that moment, something shot through my mind.

Damn it. That cursed, hellish Resurrection spell!

My pure light affinity….it was all because of that resurrection magic.

I was starting to feel good about having a power that could bring people back to life.

And then it slammed me straight into the abyss.

A sigh nearly slipped out of my mouth.

On the first day after returning from World 2, I’d spent a lot of time thinking about how I could make use of resurrection magic.

But it didn’t take long to reach a conclusion.

Use this recklessly, and I’m absolutely screwed.

Everyone values their own life.

And resurrection magic? It brings back those precious lives.

Even if I secretly accepted money to bring someone back, how long could that secret really stay hidden?

Someone who died has come back to life. Yeah, like that’s going to stay under wraps.

Nine times out of ten, the rumor would spread like wildfire, and more and more people would come after me.

Because everyone values their life.

They’d stop at nothing to kidnap me.

Sure, I could try to offer resurrection magic to some powerful figure in exchange for protection.

But how could I be sure that person would actually be good for me?

Trust these uncivilized otherworlders?

I’d rather bite my tongue and die.

If I have to trust those people, I’d rather keep the resurrection magic a secret for the rest of my life.

“There’s nothing. Nothing at all. If I had something, I would’ve done something with it already.”

So, even with resurrection magic, nothing really changed.

The smartest move was to pretend it didn’t exist and live quietly.

Or… become a monster so powerful that no one would dare lay a finger on me, even if I used resurrection magic openly.

My goal leaned more toward the latter.

But even that goal had now become meaningless.

What kind of healer nonsense is this.

“There was a holy mage I knew back when I used to work in a team. I’ll introduce you to him. With your potential, he’ll take you in without hesitation.”

“You’re just dumping your disciple on someone else, aren’t you?”

“Damn right, brat. Someone as talented as you should learn from someone proper right from the start.”

Old man Bulldog roughly ruffled my hair.

“Consider it a good thing. At least you won’t end up half-assed like me.”

He gave a manly grin.

As I silently watched him, I offered him one last lip service.

“You’re the greatest mage I’ve ever known.”

“Keke, brat… just make it big and pay me back.”

And like that, I lost my master that day.

It had only been five months, but I’d learned so much.

And I’d come to know another side of old man Bulldog.

***

“…This is the place?”

I stood in front of an enormous mansion.

In my hand was a recommendation letter, hastily scribbled by old man Bulldog.

I glanced around.

Beyond the walls in front of me, I could see more luxurious mansions lined up, each as impressive as the next.

It was clearly a well-to-do neighborhood.

In fact, this was the nobles’ residential district.

Of course, even in the noble district, there were more commoners than nobles.

Nobles were few, but their houses required many servants and assistants.

So it wasn’t strange for someone like me to walk the streets here.

They’d just assume I was working as a servant for one of the houses.

That is, if I weren’t a Transporter.

A strange gaze pierced into my back.

My face was framed by black hair and pitch-dark eyes.

I just look like a regular Korean guy.

The Gladion Empire, the land of the human race, had an appearance somewhere between Eastern and Western people.

Just as Koreans could tell the difference between Japanese and Chinese people, the residents of Gladeon could tell who were the Transporters.

So, here, I stood out like a sore thumb.

Damn these uncivilized otherworlders. I should gouge out all their eyes.

I shook my head.

Even I get nervous in the noble district.

So I calmly called out past the iron gate.

“Uncivilized—no, excuse me, is anyone there?”

In the kindest voice I could manage, I called for the gatekeeper.

“Who are you?”

Just then, someone who looked like a gardener came walking from inside.

I gave him the nicest smile I could muster.

“Hello, I’m here to see someone named Raphael.”

“You’re here to see Lord Raphael?”

The gardener squinted at me with narrowed eyes,

Then gave me a slow once-over from head to toe.

“You’re a Transporter, aren’t you?”

I felt it immediately.

This gardener. He hated Transporters.

That hatred in his eyes wasn’t something he could hide.

“Yes, I have a letter of recommendation.”

I held out the letter to him.

He leaned forward and inspected it this way and that.

Then he scowled deeply.

“You expect me to let you in with a scrap of paper like this?”

At some point, even his tone had changed.

Truthfully, I didn’t like servants much.

They worked under nobles, but in reality, they were no different from commoners.

Even so, they ranked themselves among each other and believed that working in a noble’s house made them somehow noble too.

But to my eyes, nobles or not, they were all just uncivilized bastards.

“Can you read?”

That’s why I asked politely.

“…What?”

“I asked if you can read.”

He couldn’t even speak properly.

The gardener’s face turned red.

Maybe he had a fever.

“Wh-What, do you think I work in Lord Raphael’s house and can’t even read a single word?”

“Then, if you could read what’s written here, I don’t think you’d be saying that.”

One of the defining traits of these uncivilized otherworlders:

Their illiteracy rate.

If there was one unique perk given to the Transporters, it was the ability to read, write, and speak.

It seemed to be an added ability based on the knowledge acquired before the transport to another world.

In contrast, not many people in this world could read or write.

Especially those in manual labor jobs. This trend was even more noticeable.

This was a world where simply being literate earned you respect.

Of course, that didn’t apply to Transporters.

They weren’t hired in the first place, because no one knew what kind of trouble they might cause.

It truly was a world filled with deep-seated hatred.

“Here, read it aloud. Clearly. Go on.”

I shoved the letter of recommendation toward him.

Faced with my insistence, the gardener’s eyes trembled violently.

“You can’t read, can you? You can’t. So why are you pretending you can?”

“I-I can read! My eyes are just a little blurry right now.”

“Aha, so you’re illiterate, huh?”

“Fine, illiterate, illiterate—whatever you call it!”

What an idiot.

“Anyway, just go get someone who can read.”

“What the—! I said I can read!”

“Hey, you.”

At that moment, a young voice called out from beyond the iron bars.

When I turned my head, I saw a girl in a neat dress, small in stature.

She looked to be in her mid-teens.

Her face was full of the feeling of a delicate young lady.

“What’s all the commotion?”

And the moment I saw her, I knew.

She was from a noble family.

I brought my knees and feet together,

bowed at a consistent angle,

one hand behind my back and the other respectfully gathered in front.

“It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Haru, an aspiring holy mage, here with a letter of recommendation from the famous battle mage and pioneer, Bulldog.”

A polite and precise greeting, free of excess.

I could feel the gardener glaring at me like I was crazy.

Ah, yes. This is what a proper greeting looks like.

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