The blue screens glowed in the darkening room. Three excited voices, and one silence.
Kenji was poking at his status window. "Okay, so if I focus on [Blade Saint]... whoa, it expands!"
Text appeared, filling his screen. He read aloud. "Master swordsman potential. Grants intuitive understanding of blade techniques, plus 50% learning speed for weapon skills, unlocks advanced sword arts at Level 10." He looked up, grinning. "I can learn sword stuff FASTER. That's insane!"
Aria was already reading hers, calm and focused. "[Frost Empress - Unique]. Dominion over ice and cold. Create and manipulate frozen matter, resistance to cold damage, ice magic costs 30% less mana, can learn advanced frost spells." She nodded to herself. "Efficient resource management and elemental specialization. Excellent."
Marcus's hands were glowing faintly golden as he read. "[Divine Aegis - Unique]. Blessed protector. Generate divine shields, healing touch, sense danger to allies, holy magic effectiveness increased, protection spells cost 20% less mana." His voice shook. "I can protect people. This is what I was meant for."
All three turned to Hiroshi.
He was sitting on the edge of his bed, slightly apart from them. He'd been quiet since they left the throne room.
"What about yours?" Kenji asked.
Hiroshi opened his skill description. Read it once. Twice. Hoped it would change.
It didn't.
"[Adaptive Evolution - Unique]," he said quietly. "Grants slight stat bonuses based on recent combat experience. Bonuses are minimal—plus one to relevant stat per combat encounter—and temporary. Seventy-two hours. Can copy observed techniques with reduced effectiveness."
The room was quiet for a moment.
Kenji tried first. "Plus one per combat is something, right? It adds up over time!"
Aria was calculating. Hiroshi could see her eyes moving. "At plus one per encounter with seventy-two hour duration, you'd need constant combat to maintain any advantage. That's extremely inefficient."
Marcus jumped in, optimistic. "But you can copy techniques! That sounds versatile!"
Hiroshi kept reading the fine print. "With reduced effectiveness. It doesn't say how much reduction or how the copying works."
Silence again.
Kenji stood up, walked over, put a hand on Hiroshi's shoulder. "Hey man, don't worry! We all start somewhere!"
"Those are concerningly low baseline stats though," Aria said. She wasn't trying to be mean. Just stating facts. "Even civilian averages are seven or eight."
Marcus nodded enthusiastically. "The gods work in mysterious ways. Perhaps you're meant to support us from safety! Every party needs a strategist!"
There it was. Support. From safety.
Translation: stay in the back where you won't die and slow us down.
"Yeah," Hiroshi said. He forced a smile. "Support. That sounds good."
They're being kind, he thought. Which somehow makes it worse.
A knock at the door interrupted them.
A servant entered, carrying an armful of books and pamphlets. "Hero Candidate orientation materials, as requested by the Archbishop."
He set them on the table and left.
"Hero Candidate?" Kenji frowned. "Isn't he just a hero too?"
The servant looked uncomfortable. "The designation is... administrative."
After the servant left, they gathered around the table. The stack included guidebooks, bestiaries, dungeon safety protocols, something about the Demon King threat.
Kenji picked up the top one. "Oh cool, a guidebook. Tutorial stuff."
Aria took the System mechanics guide. "I'll read the technical documentation."
Marcus grabbed the Demon King pamphlet. "I should understand our divine mission."
Hiroshi immediately grabbed the monster bestiary and started reading.
The others skimmed their books, chatting while they read. Hiroshi studied. Actually studied. Taking mental notes, absorbing information, flipping back to cross-reference.
"So we fight this Demon King eventually," Kenji said, closing his book. "Got it."
"The dungeon overflow phenomenon is interesting," Aria murmured. "Self-replicating monster ecosystems."
"Our purpose is clear," Marcus said. "Protect the innocent from darkness."
Hiroshi was still reading. Goblins had poor night vision but excellent hearing. Pack tactics, usually five to fifteen individuals. Weak points were throat, eyes, and joints—poorly armored there. Slimes were weak to piercing attacks. Undead felt no pain, weak to holy magic and fire.
"Hiroshi," Marcus said. "You're really into that."
"Information is important," Hiroshi said without looking up. "Know your enemy."
"Gaming background?" Aria asked.
"RPGs mostly. Min-maxing, optimization, pattern recognition."
Kenji grinned. "Oh! You're a strategy gamer! That's perfect for the support role!"
There it was again. Support.
Hiroshi kept reading. Found the section on level expectations. Civilians were Level 5 to 10. Soldiers 15 to 20. Knights 25 to 30. Heroes were expected to reach 50 or higher.
Then he found the survival statistics.
Level 1 characters in F-Rank dungeons had a 15% survival rate alone. 85% with party support.
Fifteen percent alone.
That number burned into his brain.
"We should sleep," Kenji said, yawning. "Big day of training tomorrow."
"Indeed," Marcus agreed. "We should be rested for our duties."
"Adequate sleep is necessary for cognitive function," Aria added.
They moved to their beds. Three of them, anyway.
Hiroshi stayed at the table, candle lit, still reading.
"Hiroshi," Marcus called from his bed. "You coming?"
"Soon. Just want to finish this chapter."
He was on chapter seven of twelve.
The castle at night was peaceful. Guards changing shifts, distant sounds of life continuing. Beautiful, really.
Hiroshi sat by the window, books stacked beside him, still reading by candlelight.
The three other heroes were asleep. Breathing steady, peaceful. Confident in their power, excited for tomorrow.
Hiroshi's hands were shaking.
He opened his Status Window again. Stared at the numbers. Hoped they'd changed.
Still all fives.
He read [Adaptive Evolution] again. "Minimal." "Temporary." "Reduced effectiveness."
Every word was another nail.
His breathing got harder. Hands shook worse. He felt pressure behind his eyes.
They made a mistake. They had to have made a mistake.
Stats all five. Below civilian baseline. Below normal people.
Skill that gave minimal, temporary bonuses.
Fifteen percent survival rate alone.
Training started tomorrow.
He looked at the three sleeping heroes. They were beautiful. Confident. Powerful. They belonged here.
He looked down at himself. At his FamilyMart uniform still packed in his bag. A reminder of who he really was.
"Why did they summon me?" he whispered to the empty room.
The Entity's words came back. "You weren't our first choice. Or our hundredth."
The contract. Soul-binding. Permanent.
He was trapped in a world where he didn't belong, too weak to survive, with no way home.
"They made a mistake," he whispered again. "They'll send me back. They have to."
But they wouldn't. Couldn't. Soul-bound meant no return.
The tears came before he could stop them. First time he'd cried since—when? Childhood? He couldn't remember.
He pressed his hands against his face, trying to stay quiet. The others were sleeping. He couldn't wake them. Couldn't be more of a burden than he already was.
"I saved a kid and died," he whispered. "That should've been enough. Why bring me back just to die again?"
He opened the Status Window one more time.
Still five. Still useless.
He laughed. Quiet, bitter. "At least I'm consistent."
Outside the window, the fantasy world was beautiful. Two moons, stars, peaceful countryside. Magic was real. Heroes existed.
And he was going to die here.
"It won't even matter," he whispered.
Exhaustion finally won. His eyes closed. He slumped against the window frame, books sliding to the floor.
One fell open to Chapter Three: When Party Members Die.
The candle burned lower. The Status Window timed out, fading.
Outside, the beautiful world continued.
Inside, a broken boy who didn't belong finally found temporary escape in sleep.
The tear tracks were still visible on his face.