Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 25 (Patreon)

Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 25

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Commissioned by Shaderic

Wordcount: 2500

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I suppose that if I were in some Shonen battle harem manga, my little escapade with Ur would have us separated in an instant, while we fled from my suddenly active Lich employee. There’d be a panel where she slips on a banana peep, then I’d fly off in the distance, then land on another person I didn’t want to be enticed by my weaponized, Otome game knowledge. It’d be a series of fanservice panels, vapid internal commentary, and then maybe a looming, ominous figure looking up it all in the shadows. 

It would horribly, incredibly demean Ur’s fighting abilities immensely, since she’d be felled by something inconspicuous, but that wouldn’t matter. 

Fanservice is everything.

Thankfully, none of that happened, because my particular, shitty situation isn’t based off of a Shonen battle harem manga.

It’s an eroge. 

Making it far, far worse.

How?

Because the eroge in question doesn’t have me as the MC. The faceless Main Characters are all around me. Not only that, but they’re MC-chan’s who are all fine with passing around the capture targets. Correction: capture target. I should have brought along a few meatshields, instead of letting my former allies live out their lives in eroge paradise. Being a decent person is a mistake in this world, so I should’ve really known better. 

However, back to my current situation. 

It’s been one hour since I’d decided to clean myself up, so that I looked like a decent human being, in order to have some form of leverage against Kurama. In that singular hour, Ur has had to call on my entire protection detail, so that I could do my daily routine of checking on all the projects and touch base with individuals who were worth speaking to. Despite having a dozen Amazons bedecked in combat armor, wielding blunt, steel batons, I’ve been subjected to harassment, despite the punishment entailed by said punishment.

A few arms of gropers were broken. Many bruises were made as rushers were taken down. Dozens were forcibly escorted into the sky via skill and strength as they rushed at me nude and bereft of sense.

Yet, it never stopped the entire time. 

A veritable tide was unleashed against me… and I still had an entire afternoon of reports and meetings to go through, before Kurama returned from her visit to the nearest, Kindred city. 

Alright, I’ll admit it.

I’m already regretting my decision I could even see if it’s effective. 

…

Kurama insisted upon making something more of my office, despite the fact that I wanted it to be a bleak, soul-crushing combination of Gendo Ikari’s office and shelves upon shelves of bureaucracy. It had been going well. My table was simple and stark. The window was set just ret. The shelves were filling up with ledger after ledger of papers. It didn’t have the massive, overwhelming size of Gendo-san’s, but I size isn’t everything. Skill has its own role in things and I was confident that I could capture just a bit of his talent and make it my own. 

However, the scarlet-haired vixen who controls the purse-strings invaded my space.

Now there were two, cushioned chairs right in front of by desk, as well as a coffee table easy enough for Tanis set for guests. There was a rug beneath the table and chairs too. It the same, red color as Kurama’s fur and the backing of the chair, while my desk matched the wooden portions of the new furnishings. Without a doubt, it was an invasion of my personal space, as well as a formal declaration of war. She was putting warm, red colors over all my pristine, near-black everything. She was also planning on replacing the flickering oil lanterns that gave the whole office flair and pizzazz with magical, steady lanterns.  

Slowly, but surely, my dream of having a soul-crushing office where I can tell a deprived, social-anxious high-schooler to save the world. 

And, it’s absolutely awful that it isn’t the reason why I’m dying behind my desk.

Every single meeting, I was blatantly sexually harassed from start to finish. The whole affair was equivalent to a female CEO getting flashed, hit on, flashed again, and then shown a throbbing, indecent erection at every meeting. Kindred? Monsters? No. Apparently, a better name for every single creature I’ve fought against and spilled blood against for years before my appointment can be summed up as depraved perverts willing to endure beatings from Amazons for the chance to flash their tits or ass at their boss. 

Tanis didn’t react because she hated my guts to the core, but the rest of my meetings?

The merchants coming over the mountain were less focused on getting a better deal and doing a bidding war based on how depraved they could get. It started with handholding, devolved to sexual positions, and I had Ur kick them out when one ventured towards watersports and reverse-NTR, which is just freaking NTR and is still, completely trash, but that’s beside the point. 

Everyone vaguely involved in the minutiae of my small town only had sex in the brain, even though I had fiancé, was generally shit towards them, and obviously hated all their guts. The head of the farmers came in wearing only a straw hat, so I had her out after she confirmed the crops were fine. The Kindred in charge of cooking came in and offered to be a plate for her latest dish in a naked apron. She didn’t stop offering, even when Ur and another Amazons took pushed her out of the window. And, of course, Ur had to punt the Dwarf in charge of mining operations out after she revealed she was very, very into being coerced. 

Needless to say, I was already planning on returning to be a disheveled freak if Kurama laughed at my entire situation. Only dread and anticipation remained within me, for a life of constant sexual harassment from everyone and everything unmarried, if Kurama was affected by my current get up. How do normies handle this sort of attention? Wait a minute. They don’t. All the normies get picked off at the start and are never seen again, dammit.

This isn’t a plan.

This is a death flag!

“Ur, I think I’ve made a mistake.” Only a true fool wouldn’t admit to making mistakes, especially after his decisions made it necessary to have six super soldiers around him at all times. After reviewing the entire situation, considering the possible outcomes, and the cost of success… it’s obvious that unleashing Otome logic upon this world is something I shouldn’t have even attempted. Being the only capture target of gaggles of crazed, living fetishes was a bad idea. How could I have possibly known? “I need my old clothes back. Get them for me.”

“In the interest of stopping a potential riot from occurring, I had them incinerated. All you have to wear now is your current attire and the extra sets.” Dammit. Why did I have to have such a capable subordinate/bodyguard? As happy as I was no riots occurred over my clothes, and as painful as it is to acknowledge that such a situation can occur, both feelings were outweighed by the fact that I’m now stuck. My clothes were my last hope, since my facial hair won’t be returning anytime soon and the haircut, I’d received was the sort that stayed decent after a long period of time. Again, dammit. “I also believe that you have no hope of returning your prior existence, Hachiman. The truth is known now and the Kindred will not stop in ensuring it remains true.”

“Less philosophy and more options, Ur. How do I stop this? Give me suggestions. You’re a woman, and these monsters are kinda women, so up your secrets for my benefit.”

“Hmph, if they were true women, they’d have felt affection for you despite your looks. As you know, my tribe and I believe in your worth as a spouse, due to your actions and history, even if some prefer you more in your current state.” Wow, Ur. You really don’t hold back do you? Is this the true power of feminine indignation? Just casually declaring nearly everyone in town skanks and sluts who think with their cunts? What? I didn’t say it. I implied it and thought about it, but Ur said it. So, she’s at fault and not me. That’s how ideas work. “All the wanton creatures throwing themselves at you now should simply be beneath your notice. They care not for you in the slightest, so harden your heart against them and treat them as tools, instead of considering them your subjects.”

The declaration made by the tan, short-haired Amazon clad in bands of gold and cloth was dogmatic, determined, and merciless I had no issues with the notion at all, since I didn’t have any problem with considering people to be nothing more than NPCs that are irritating to deal with. But I still had one question for my resolute, imperious bodyguard whose fellows nodded along with her words stoically. 

“Henri too, huh?”

“…My words were too zealous. Some should be given leeway. Henri was shocked utterly, then you proceeded to seduce her.” Eh? What’s that? How the heck did I seduce that Lich, huh!? My current, Pay-To-Win armor set definitely has effects on monsters that I can’t deny, but I definitely don’t have a Seduction skill as one of my 108 Hachiman Skills. Not only that, but I don’t have any experience whatsoever in the art of seduction, so it’s impossible that I just did it instinctively! “Judging by the look on your face, you don’t believe that you enticed her. Hachiman, you approached her familiarly, spoke to her casually, and then treated her as you typically did while looking as you do now. You effectively overrode all her past memories of you as a disheveled commander with your current state.”

Oh.

Oh no.

I accidentally replaced all the flags I’d set by accident!

“That’s what’s happening in this entire town isn’t it?” I should have seen it coming. Even though I evoked the power of Otome games, the truth is that I invoked a deeper, darker genre that I should’ve been kept lock away. The Dating Sim genre, the granddaddy of eroge, came to life at this moment! After doing my best to plant shitty, no-go flags everywhere I possibly could… I went ahead and turned them all into “Yes” Pillows by complete accident. I’d implanted my image in their memories, established myself as a character in their dating-sim lives, then proceeded to have a makeover and facelift. I went from an irritating mob character to a secret character after a set amount of time… that still had the same lines and replaced the older sprites in the CGs! “I fucked up massively.”

With a single, idiotic mistake, I reversed all my Hate points into Affection points. 

“Yep. The only thing to do now is wipe the slate clean and start anew.” No. I’m not doing anything extreme. All I’m doing is resetting the simulation. I’ve got plenty of time on my hands. If I make this entire situation go away, then restart without making the same mistake, I’ll have a semblance of an existence that isn’t constantly surrounded by adoring, living incarnations of various internet fetishes. Roseanne wouldn’t mind losing a few hundred people and sending more, right? She’s rich and powerful, while her no-nonsense nature’s just for show. She won’t get mad at me for going crazy and evicting everyone who’s seen me in my current state from Ysltu, correct? She’s got plenty of land too, so she won’t mind if the Empire decides to invade through it while the defenses are down. I mean, it’s all gotta go. She’ll agree with me, right? “We’re going to liquidate this entire town. Everything has to go. We’ll start again from scratch without this stupid mistake fucking everything up—

“Hello. I am of returning from my mission today.” 

What’s this?

A somewhat-normal sentence from an individual I expected to became a rapacious monster? 

Ashe looked at me in that particular way that dogs do when curious, except obviously fetishized given her chosen choice of wearing less clothing than my Amazons. If you’re wondering what that entails, she’s basically running around as though she’s supposed to be at a beach all the time. On one hand, having a Hellhound capable of lighting herself on fire in instant is absolutely great. Less costs for me to cover when using my search-and-destroy missile. On the other hand, having her walk around in a black bikini everywhere set a bad precedence in my town that I was now regretting very much. 

But back to the small shard of light in the debased, cursed darkness I’ve found myself in. 

“Huh, so stupidity really does have its own merits.” Ashe simply tilted her head at my words, before remembering why she was present in the first place. On her right thigh was a series of straps meant to hold a ledger. Given my disappointing lack of need for a Hellhound, I put her to use as a courier and a means to relay orders quickly to my outposts and resource operations. Not only did I get to use an asset that’d otherwise just sit around all day, but she didn’t go stir crazy and pester me for walks. “How did your assignments go?”

“It was of decent goings. I am not of breaking my record of speed, but of proper performance I have given.” The ledger was more of a binder that held a small journal and a few reports. It lay warm upon my dsek, while Ashe praised herself, preened, and puffed out her chest. Her head was just a few palms below the roof, and her choice in pose did arousing things, but that was normal. Yep, she was perfectly unfazed by my current looks. “I will be eating with chieftain and lady-chieftain tonight. Yes? I am of deserving of rewards?”

Threatened as I was to simply agree, due to relief at a semblance of normalcy after my wardrobe change, I nearly agreed to Ashe’s request without looking though the book. Unfortunately for my employee, the relief came with clarity of mind.

“You’re invited if I find nothing wrong with what you did.” I decided to stand up. An afternoon locked in fear to my own chair was feeling father and farther away. Who knew that not being treated like a piece of meat would be refreshing? I certainly didn’t. “If you did well, I’ll give you rewards. If you didn’t, you’ll be punished. That’s how it is. Get it? Got it? Good.” I stood in front of Ashe for a moment, practically just chest high, but she bowed her head and presented her ears without a second’s hesitation once I was in range. I gave her hair and fluffy ears a good tussle as a reward for her efforts. The cheapest payment for same-day mail-delivery ever, but I wasn’t about to complain. “Now, go and get out.”

“I will be of doing that. I am of many thanks to chieftain.”

And, with that I’ve managed to regain a semblance of confidence in my current strategy. 

“You’re given faith by a single individual reacting neutrally to your appearance, Hachiman? How sad. You’ve become an optimist after weeks of constant defeat.”

Dammit, Ur, at least let me have this!