* * *

“If you like it, I’ll get more next time. How about it? Having me around isn’t so bad, right?”

“This kind of food is impractical for travel. It’s messy.”

The hero spoke while licking the cream from the corner of his mouth—not bothering to wipe it off, just scraping it up like it was the most natural thing.

“Yeah, yeah. Just buy what you can actually manage to carry, alright? You’re so considerate, worrying about everything.”

The hero shot me a glare, clearly indicating that wasn’t what he meant, but I feigned ignorance.

After all, he liked the food, so I was confident he didn’t actually hate it.

Sure enough, after glaring at me for a bit, he turned his head away.

Still, his once brisk pace slowed slightly, as if he might lose something if he moved too quickly.

Ah, he must’ve been hungry after all.

“Are we heading for dinner?”

The hero nodded.

Even though he didn’t speak, a nod was more than enough of an answer.

How nice of him.

“Then how about I take you to a place I know? There’s a spot nearby that makes amazing brick-oven roasts…”

Hmm?

What the—?

Just as I was relishing the hero actually paying attention to what I was saying, someone stomped over with a thunderous expression, their steps practically shaking the ground.

Were they coming toward me?

No way.

I hadn’t done anything since my regression!

“Raul Florenti!”

Oh.

They were coming for me.

Hearing my name left no room for doubt.

“You bastard, I’ll kill you!”

But why would you want to kill me?

Unfortunately, I had no idea who this person was.

Not even a vaguely familiar face.

If you’re going to threaten to kill me, the least you could do is explain what I did wrong, don’t you think?

‘This is bad.’

If things got too loud here, the hero might start seeing me as some kind of troublemaker.

And if that happened, the one week I’d fought to secure could be drastically cut short.

“Whoa, whoa. Calm down. How about we talk this through first? Maybe there’s been some kind of misunderstanding—”

Before I could finish my reasonable suggestion, the guy swung a fist at me.

Seriously?

---

I dodged the punch.

It was such a straightforward attack that I barely needed to move—just tilting my body was enough.

“Misunderstanding? Like hell! You slick-faced playboy!”

Excuse me?

The man spat curses in a furious voice, but I honestly couldn’t think of anything that might’ve set him off.

Then again, I heard stuff like this so often that it barely registered anymore.

People who disliked me always seemed to latch onto the “playboy” label as if it was their life’s mission.

I didn’t even have a scandalous enough history to deserve that title!

Ever since becoming an adventurer, I hadn’t even been in a relationship.

Sure, there were occasional flings when the mood was right, but that’s about it.

They’re just picking on me because I’m good-looking, aren’t they?

Not everyone with a face that can charm people is a playboy, for crying out loud!

“I haven’t slept with anyone lately,” I declared confidently.

My words only made the guy angrier.

“You shameless bastard! How guilty do you feel that that’s the first thing out of your mouth?”

“I’m telling you, it’s not true!”

Don’t go spouting stuff that could make the hero misunderstand!

This was just a regression issue—I couldn’t remember everything clearly!

Even though it had only been three years, life during a war was so chaotic that minor details like this didn’t stick in my memory.

The man lunged at me again with terrifying speed, but I leaped upward and flipped over him, landing neatly behind him.

For the record, I’m a pretty well-known adventurer around here.

I don’t lose to someone blindly flailing in rage.

But what really worried me was how the hero might interpret this.

I glanced back to check his expression.

As usual, his face was unreadable, but I could sense an unspoken resolve: if I wasted any more time, he’d leave.

Of course. The hero was probably hungry.

Sure, he’d eaten that cream-filled bread, but that was just a temporary fix.

He needed real, nutritious food to fuel that overwhelming strength of his.

I can’t let him leave!

Look at that—he’s already angling his body to walk away!

This wasn’t the time for this nonsense.

I’d been dodging while waiting to hear what the man had to say, but no more.

“Look, you’re not going to kill me anyway. Can’t you just tell me what your problem is?”

“Arrgh!”

The stranger, even angrier now, swung at me again.

His punch, packed with so much force, was easy to dodge, leaving him staggering from the momentum.

Should I just knock him out and end this?

No, I couldn’t.

If I did, I’d look like the bad guy attacking someone without justification.

The hero was watching, and I couldn’t afford to ruin my reputation in front of him.

“Just take a hit already, damn it! You bastard!”

“What kind of nonsense is that? Why should I stand here and let you hit me?”

“You shameless jerk! How can you say that to me right now? Thanks to you, my reputation is in shambles!”

Huh?

“…”

Wait a minute.

“Pay the penalty fee, you scumbag!”

I wanted to argue that his ruined reputation had nothing to do with me, but the mention of a penalty fee triggered some very unpleasant memories.

‘Did you hear? The Hessler family’s looking for the essence of frost worms.’

‘Ugh, I hate the cold. Going all the way to the ends of the earth for that? Not worth it. And it’s not just frost worms; that place is crawling with yetis.’

‘Apparently, the reward’s been raised a lot because other adventurers keep turning it down.’

‘Really? Hey, Vasco. Let’s go.’

Oh, no.

The memory of how cheerfully I’d responded back then was still crystal clear in my mind.

Who wouldn’t perk up at hearing about a reward that high?

The Hessler family needed the essence of frost worms to concoct a cure for their youngest son’s severe illness.

But frost worms were small, had incredibly strong jaws that could snap through limbs, and always traveled in swarms.

Because of that, the head of the family offered an enormous advance payment to lure adventurers.

To prevent fraud, they also set the penalty fee at more than ten times the advance.

‘Yeah, I’m trash.’

After agreeing to the job, I hadn’t shown up at the meeting spot for days.

Thinking back, I remembered Aimone asking me about the pile of letters I’d received and brushing it off because I was busy burying my head in denial.

The guy banging on my door back then?

I thought he was Aimone’s ex.

Penalty fee… How much was it?

Thank goodness it wasn’t the full reward but just the advance payment.

If the debt were that high, I’d want to kill me too.

“Why didn’t you just find someone else and go without me? You could’ve ditched me!”

“Oh, now you remember? Unlike you, I actually worry when someone doesn’t show up!”

Don’t act like I don’t care about people.

What if the hero gets the wrong idea?

But that aside—

“How are you already demanding the penalty fee? It hasn’t even been a week since the request!”

“I missed the timing, and that damned son ended up with a blotchy rash on his face! The marriage was called off because of it! And now, just because I took on the request knowing it hadn’t even started, I’m the one getting grilled nonstop!”

Now that I think about it, the pretty little youngest son of the Hessler family was supposed to marry some noblewoman, wasn’t he?

The family had amassed wealth through trade and was now eyeing a noble title.

But the youngest son caught a fever at the worst possible time, costing them that chance.

It must’ve stung.

Still, they couldn’t very well berate a sick kid, so this guy ended up taking all the heat.

“Uh, yeah. That sucks… I mean…”

Before my regression, we had successfully retrieved the same essence together.

But that’s meaningless now.

Even if I said I was traumatized from seeing a future where humanity is wiped out, no one would believe me.

For now, talking to him seems pointless, so let’s just take the hit.

I stopped mid-dodge, standing still.

It’ll hurt, sure, but it’s better than making a worse impression on the Hero.

Skipping out on the job has already screwed me over, but it’s better to minimize the damage.

At least I should look like someone who takes responsibility for his mistakes.

I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the punch of rage to land on my head—or wherever it would hit.

Usually, I’d tell him not to leave a scar on my face, but really, what does a handsome face matter when humanity’s on the brink of extinction?

“What the… what’s wrong with you? Why… why are you doing this?”

“…?”

But the hit didn’t come.

Even without opening my eyes, I could tell from his bewildered tone that something was off.

* * *