The place the winged ogre had sent me flying to was Korea.
…Though it was the Korea of the 2090s, not 2026.
On top of that, an enormously massive tower was piercing through the atmosphere in the heart of Seoul.
‘Thanks to that, three years ago was really…’
First, I had to remake my identity.
Because in this Korea, a human named Lee Hyeon-do didn’t exist to begin with.
So… when I walked into the community center wearing shattered, blood-soaked armor, it was absolute chaos.
If I hadn’t changed the form of Claire, who had tagged along with me, I probably would’ve ended up on the nine o’clock news.
As the unidentified armed assailant who raided a community center.
Anyway, through this and that, me from three years ago managed to obtain Korean citizenship and barely escaped being an illegal alien.
When you have a proper identity, there’s so much more you can do.
You can open bank accounts, get a phone line, obtain a driver’s license, and so on…
[500 meters remaining to destination. Then, turn left. Use the fifth lane.]
From the phone mounted on the holder, a gentle navigation voice flowed out.
I, who had once been a hero that saved the world, was now making deliveries.
As a rider for the platform called Delivery Hero.
Three years ago, with nothing but the clothes on my back, the only way I could survive immediately was as a delivery driver—one where everything from the helmet to the motorcycle was available for rent.
Later, I more or less forced Claire to transform into a motorcycle… thanks to that, I saved on motorcycle rental fees.
“Isn’t this the moment for the words ‘Whatever would I have done without you?’ to come out, Master?”
“Shut up and get moving.”
“Aahn…! Every time the former Hero handles me roughly…!”
—Honk! Honk!
Because of that damn perverted holy sword, the car behind me ended up honking.
Haah… why is life so hard…
Even with the holy sword’s blessing, a body trained for eighty years, and mana, the fatigue of life isn’t something I can just laugh off.
Specifically, perhaps it’s the fatigue named cost of living, living expenses, taxes, and monthly rent that weighs me down.
‘Hunters, huh…’
I gazed at the tower, visible even from afar.
Hunter.
In this day and age, the dream of every elementary schooler and the ladder of social advancement that anyone dreams of.
To climb that ladder, one had to undergo specialized government or corporate training and pass employment exams or open recruitments.
Honestly, if I proved my career as a former hero, becoming a Hunter would be easy, but…
“You wish to enjoy your peaceful daily life a bit longer?”
“Well… I can’t say no. By the way, I didn’t know you could speak properly too.”
“What do you mean. I am the divine armament personally forged by the Goddess to guide the Hero, Hauteclaire.”
“What kind of holy sword are you, moaning the moment someone touches you…”
“Kyahaaa♥ The Hero’s punishment♥ So thrilling♥”
Maybe I should’ve just left this thing behind on that side.
That thought suddenly crossed my mind.
[You have arrived at your destination. Navigation ending. Please check again to make sure you have not forgotten any drinks or side menu items.]
Thanks to the calm, gentle navigation voice, I came back to my senses.
This is the true holy sword that guides a hero. Even if it’s a Delivery Hero.
Anyway, I parked Claire in front of an officetel and pulled out a still-warm bag of chicken thanks to my Inventory skill.
‘Should I have chicken for dinner tonight?’
With that thought, I stood in front of the elevator.
Pinning Claire, who had transformed into a shape similar to a body cam, onto my jacket.
***
“Excuse me! How long has it been since I ordered, and you’re only just getting here?!”
The moment I placed the chicken in front of the door, it burst open and some ghastly pale pig leaped out.
Looking closer, it was a person. A woman. She seemed young… but.
‘Ha… there are these types sometimes… vulgar things who think they’re king after paying a few pennies…’
In times like these, the best move is to just say what this person wants to hear most.
If that doesn’t end it, then I have no choice but to protect myself.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Is an apology enough? How am I supposed to eat chicken that’s gone completely cold?!”
“If it’s cold, I’ll give you a refund. Out of my own pocket.”
“Really? Then please refund me. Leave the chicken and go.”
The pig’s eyes curved into narrow slits, and her venomous voice turned sweet.
Looked like she’d done this once or twice before.
When you work delivery, you run into this often.
Customers who forcibly nitpick to scam a free meal—commonly called troublemakers.
Of course, I lifted the still-steaming hot chicken right in front of the pig’s eyes.
“Check for yourself. Whether it’s cold or not.”
“Hah, really?”
—Rustle, rustle.
How can even her fingers be this fat?
Those chubby fingers that made me think that dug into the chicken bag.
Naturally, what came out next was…
“Ah, hot.”
“You said it was hot, didn’t you?”
“…Ah, I didn’t though?”
“I’ll mark the delivery complete and be on my way. Enjoy your meal.”
“Hey! I said I didn’t say it was hot!”
Without a word, I slightly opened my jacket.
Inside was Claire, whom I’d made look like a body cam just in case.
I tapped Claire’s lens and looked at the pig.
“This is a body cam; shall I call the police and check?”
Usually, they’d give an embarrassed laugh and go inside here.
Or slam the door in a fit of anger.
But it seemed I’d landed on the wrong one today.
“Y-you…! I didn’t! Honey, honey!! This delivery punk says he’ll call the cops!!!”
“Haah…”
This was the worst pattern I’d only ever heard about.
It meant it was about time for the boyfriend bankrolling a woman like that to make his entrance.
Sure enough, out jumped a pig who’d built his bulk with fat instead of muscle, covered in tattoos.
The tattooed pig threw the chicken box on the floor and spat out a single word in a voice thick with fat.
“Hey, the chicken’s all cold. Calling the cops? Call them, you son of a bitch. You’ll be dead before they get here.”
“But it wasn’t cold?”
“Hah~ you punk… what’s your deal? You tough or something? Wanna become an unidentified corpse?”
“Yeah, I’m a delivery driver. And I’m pretty damn good at fighting.”
You’re dead meat, our honey is a former athlete!
The woman’s voice hiding behind the tattooed pig somehow reminded me of an angry pig.
As if buoyed by that encouragement, the tattooed pig took a step toward me.
“This punk thinks he’s tough because he’s got a helmet. You’ll end up dead like that. No one will ever know.”
“Hmm… I don’t know. I think you and your girlfriend are in more danger than me though? How do you even get fat on your fingers?”
“Ah, did this delivery punk eat something wrong?”
“Listen, I’m being serious here; if you keep living like that, you’re really gonna die. No one will ever know.”
“Why you goddamn—!”
The boar even raised his plump, pudgy ham-fist.
For the record, I’m thinking of letting him hit me.
Because once I take one hit, everything after that is self-defense.
I was a hero, but I was no gentleman. Nor did I want to be.
So I’d hoped that tattooed thug would show off his bravado to the very end, but…
“Agh, you little shit. Look at him acting tough because of his helmet.”
“Then should I take off my helmet and fight you fair and square?”
“Fair and square? What kind of old geezer bullshit is that…”
This is why thugs are thugs.
The real issue isn’t the helmet, but my large frame packed with muscles forged in real combat.
I wasn’t originally this big; it’s because of the eighty-year war against the demonkin, but…
Anyway, the tattooed pig picked up the chicken bag he’d thrown.
But don’t kids these days use the term ‘fair fight’ anymore?
“Hey, get lost. I’m leaving you a review, so be prepared.”
“What?! Why aren’t you doing anything?!”
“Ah, just go inside!”
“Ah, shit… my phone bill this month is crazy high…”
And so, the pig couple disappeared inside, forcing their bodies through the doorway.
I considered leaving a word or two… but just turned around.
They were people I’d never see again anyway.
***
“Tch, kids these days. You should’ve just given them a light smack instead.”
The moment I got out of the officetel, Claire spoke up.
“Forget it. They’re not my kids; why would I do that?”
“You can move without being caught on CCTV easily enough. Even if you’ve rested for three years.”
“Then he’d die. Don’t you know force is proportional to velocity?”
“Are you referring to Newton’s laws of motion? The force Newton spoke of is different from the force Master means, is it not? Science is a far more rigorous and thorough discipline than Master believes.”
“Agh…”
She never misses a beat, this damned holy sword.
The reason Claire knows about Newton and whatnot is simple.
Because while I sleep, Claire studies this world through my phone.
“By the way, it’s about time you got off work.”
As Claire said, the current time was 21:00.
The dinner peak time usually ends around now, so I typically finish work at this hour.
Since I only need to take care of myself, there’s no reason to work desperately late into the night.
“Yeah, let’s go home.”
“You’ve worked hard today as well, Hero.”
“Oh… can’t you keep doing it like this from now on? Befitting a holy sword.”
“Hehehe, I shall refuse that order. Because it’s not fun.”
“Tch.”
Figures.
Anyway, I set off on my way home from work with a refreshed mind.
I couldn’t even remember the faces of the troublemakers I’d met just moments ago.
Compared to the eighty-year struggle against the demonkin, troublemaker customers are cute.
—Crack…
“Hmm?”
“Hm…?”
The sound of something breaking from somewhere.
This feeling that my intuition rather than my hearing reacts to… the popping sound just now wasn’t a physical sound.
“Claire.”
“Yes. It is different from what the demonkin use, but something is tearing a rift in the dimension. It seems like the sudden rifts mentioned on the news… it’s quite large.”
Dimensional rifts are one of the influences of the tower visible in the distance.
The government and various corporations cooperate to suppress them, but… it’s human work, so it can’t be perfect.
“Hmm, it seems the authorities haven’t detected it yet.”
“So it seems. I heard that response squads composed of Hunters usually deploy immediately, but it’s quiet. At this rate, there will be civilian casualties.”
“Indeed. Can’t be helped.”
I gripped the holy sword Hauteclaire for the first time in a very long while and stomped the ground.
I struggled a bit jumping gently so as not to crack the concrete floor.
Anyway, I arrived in front of a dimensional rift about to open at some construction site.
—Ka-boom! Crash!
At the same time, the rift opened fully.
I’d heard that usually numerous demonic beasts or monsters pour out, but… this time, only one monster emerged.
An undead-type monster that looked like it had been stitched together from thousands of corpses.
“■■■■■■-!!!”
The unknown monster unleashed a bizarre roar that seemed a mixture of screams and wails the moment it recognized me… however.
That was the end of it.
“Kiaa…ack?!”
I lightly swung the holy sword and shook off the blood coating its blade.
Once I decide to kill, I kill instantly.
It was an old habit born from eighty years of struggle.
—Splat, splat. Thud, thud…
Leaving the monster falling apart in pieces behind me, I set off on my commute home again.
“Ugh, the smell. This is why I hate undead.”
“Exactly. The sensation of rotten flesh and caked blood is horrific as well. Ah, aren’t you going to retrieve the core?”
“Forget it. Even if I take it, there’s no way to process it.”
“True, only Hunters are permitted to handle cores.”
Just because I’m broke doesn’t mean I have no pride.
Suddenly, a line from a movie I’d seen long ago came to mind.