The hero Arthur and his party had succeeded in defeating the Demon King.
The wicked Demon King's army, which had plunged the entire continent into fear for nearly ten years, had finally been brought down. As soon as news of the Demon King's downfall and Arthur’s party’s victory spread, the empire was completely swept up in celebration.
The streets of the imperial capital were so thick with flower petals scattered by its citizens that there wasn’t even room to step, and by midday, people were already clinking their glasses together in honor of the victory.
Marching bands filled the streets as if determined to ensure not a single quiet corner remained, and bards composed and sang songs of the heroes.
Naturally, “Eddie’s Inn,” located right in the heart of the capital in a prime spot, also played its role in the usual fantasy cliché. Its first floor was a tavern, and from noon onward, drunks were toasting the victory.
“To Hero Arthur!”
“To Boram the magician!”
“To Augustine of the Holy Power!”
“To His Majesty the Emperor!”
As they shouted boisterous toasts, cramming the names of the hero party and the emperor into the same breath, they gulped down cold beer and wiped their mouths with a satisfied “Kyaa!”
“So when is the hero’s party coming back to the empire?”
“Usually it takes two or three months to get from the Demon King’s castle to the empire… But even if the strongholds were damaged, with repeated teleportation, they could make it in about a month, don’t you think?”
“The hero’s return! The festival’s just getting started.”
It had been a historic battle upon which the fate of the continent—no, all of humanity—had hung. The hero’s party had won, and humanity had survived. Until their return, the empire would remain in festive spirits, and once they were back, the true parades and celebrations would begin in earnest.
Even though no appetizers had arrived yet, the men, already in high spirits, drained their beer mugs and started shouting orders for more, voices growing louder.
“Did you hear? They say the sacred sword Albatross fulfilled its role during the war and then disappeared.”
“What a shame.”
“Right? I really wanted to see it in person.”
“If it had remained intact, it would’ve gone in the imperial museum as a historical masterpiece.”
Hearing their sympathetic chatter, the owner of the inn—Eddie—stood behind the bar polishing glasses and muttered silently to himself.
That thing’s perfectly fine. And besides, the sword’s true owner wasn’t Arthur—Ketron had it. Of course Arthur doesn’t have it.
Naturally, the men, unaware of Eddie’s inner thoughts, kept talking.
“They say Hero Arthur is going to have a grand wedding with Saint Layla?”
“Of course! Weren’t they promised to marry if they defeated the Demon King?”
No, they weren’t. Layla actually liked Ketron more… though Ketron didn’t seem to care much.
Eddie grumbled again silently to himself.
“I heard His Majesty’s going to grant Hero Arthur a countship?”
“A massive success story, rising from a commoner to nobility. The nobles are losing their minds.”
“People thought he’d get a baronet title at most, but now that he’s getting a countship, they’re losing it. They’re filing petitions every day complaining about ‘tainted blood’ and whatever.”
“If it weren’t for the hero party, we’d all be dead to the Demon King’s army—how can they say stuff like that?”
At that moment, Eddie let out a long, deep sigh.
“…This job sucks.”
That’s how it always is—those who know the whole, bitter truth end up more exhausted than anyone. Just watching Arthur bask in all that glory alone was infuriating.
So damn annoying.
Eddie placed the pointlessly polished glass onto the shelf. From the kitchen, Gerold poked his head out with perfect timing.
“Mr. Eddie, ‘that dish’ is ready.”
“Yeah? Nice work.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble. Just had to boil it, as always. As long as you can handle the spice, that is.”
Gerold scrunched his nose. He wasn’t exaggerating—he coughed lightly, unable to bear the fumes.
“Should I take it out?”
“I’ll do it this time.”
Eddie smirked as he took the pot of ‘that dish’ from Gerold.
He carried the pot out past the bar, walking confidently toward the group of men who had been loudly saying things he didn’t much like. Without a word, he thumped the pot down on their table.
The men, startled once by the sudden appearance of the innkeeper and a second time by the overpowering spicy aroma unlike anything they’d ever smelled before, twitched their noses in surprise.
“Wh-what the hell, boss? All of a sudden?”
“What is this bright red thing?!”
Eddie replied with a deadpan look.
“You asked for any snack to go with your drinks, didn’t you?”
“Well, I mean…”
They had said something vague like that when they came in. But they expected a fruit platter or maybe some fried fish—not a noodle dish, and certainly not something this aggressively spicy that even the smell was overwhelming.
And… this dish? They’d never seen anything like it before.
As they sat there staring, dumbfounded, Eddie smiled brightly.
“It’s our inn’s special dish.”
“Special? Since when did this place have a special dish?”
Until just a few days ago, it didn’t. Eddie’s Inn had been terrible both as a restaurant and a tavern. The menu was limited to French fries, fried fish, a fruit platter, and beer. It was clean, and the location was good enough to draw customers, but no one ever expected much from the food.
In fact, in the original novel, the inn was mentioned exactly once, so there was no way it had a special menu or anything like that.
This was a brand-new addition to Eddie’s Inn. It was a dish that, without a doubt, had never existed in the empire before—and likely never would again.
“What’s it called?”
Despite the suspicious glances caused by the intense smell, the unfamiliar dish sparked their curiosity. It looked painfully spicy, but the glossy noodles still looked strangely appetizing.
Gotcha, you suckers. Eddie smiled sweetly, hiding his wicked inner thoughts.
“Fire Chicken Noodles.”
* * *
Eddie—or rather, the man once known as Lee Jeong-hoon in his previous life—had possessed the body of a minor innkeeper in the fantasy novel he had once read to the end, only to rage-quit at the final chapter.
“…What the hell.”
That first moment when he woke up in an inn room and looked in the mirror—what utter nonsense.
Shining silver hair and mysterious violet eyes. A face that screamed “tragic backstory.” Sure, it was handsome, but it looked nothing like the familiar face Lee Jeong-hoon had known for over twenty years.
With that kind of face, you could’ve been a top model or actor. Just standing there, you’d earn a fortune.
But tragically, there was no place for actors or models in this world. This was a damned fantasy world—with an emperor and mages and everything.
The novel he had possessed, The Hero Doesn’t Bother Hiding His Power, had a very modern fantasy title, but the content was actually a traditional classic-style fantasy story.
Yeah, right…
There were a few moments that made him snort out loud, but overall, he’d genuinely enjoyed reading it.
Lee Jeong-hoon had been the owner of a small, quiet convenience store tucked away in the corner of an apartment complex. During slow hours, which were frequent, he’d often kill time by reading fantasy novels—and the one he’d read right before his death was exactly this one.
The Hero Doesn’t Bother Hiding His Power.
And the “hero” mentioned in that title wasn’t Arthur, the one now being praised by the entire empire.
It was the real hero: Ketron.
Chosen by the sacred sword at a ridiculously young age, Ketron set off on his adventure and gathered comrades—swordsman Arthur, magician Boram, and holy cleric Augustine. Together, they fought the Demon King’s army, grew stronger through trials, and ultimately, Ketron slayed the Demon King and became a hero of the continent.
A beautiful, textbook fantasy growth story… until the author lost their mind with a twist.
What the hell?
Right before the final battle, the plot veered sharply. To defeat the Demon King, Ketron had to coat his sacred sword, Albatross, in a powerful spell that would erase the Demon King’s existence—but the side effect of that magic was that the wielder’s very existence would also be erased from the world.
In other words, everyone would forget Ketron.
[I'll hold back the Demon King’s forces. You cast the spell—now!]
Even though he was badly wounded, Augustine held the army at bay outside the Demon King’s castle while Ketron, Arthur, and Boram prepared the spell.
[Don’t worry, Ketron! Even if the whole world forgets you, we’ll remember you!]
[Yeah, we’ll find you no matter what!]
Arthur and Boram said this with heroic sincerity, and Ketron nodded.
He charged at the Demon King with the spell-forged sword, and after a fierce battle, he succeeded in driving the blade through the Demon King’s heart.
Victory.
And then—the final act.
You’d expect that even if everyone forgot Ketron, Arthur and Boram would still remember and restore his honor.
But Arthur didn’t.
He took all of Ketron’s achievements for himself. He claimed the sacred sword had been lost in the fight, that he himself had killed the Demon King, and that all the great deeds Ketron had done were his own.
Though a fairly skilled swordsman, Arthur had never been chosen by the sacred sword and couldn’t possibly have killed the Demon King. But still, he was suddenly hailed as a hero of the continent.
Boram also said nothing. She didn’t seek Ketron out, didn’t deny Arthur’s lies. She simply stayed by Arthur’s side. Even Augustine, who had completely lost his memory of Ketron, sensed nothing wrong and returned with Arthur.
Hero Ketron was… forgotten.
No fucking way. Are you serious?
When Lee Jeong-hoon read that part, there were only about 20 pages left. Not nearly enough time for Ketron to reclaim his glory or for Arthur to be ruined. And it was the final volume!
Yet the story ended like this: the hero forgotten, the villains triumphant~ the end.
At the very end, Ketron, injured, starving, and broken by betrayal, slumped in front of an inn and cried.
And in the final moment, his eyes gleamed with darkness, declaring that he would destroy everything in the world in a twisted, villainous turn.
[The Hero Doesn’t Bother Hiding His Power — fin.]
……
Lee Jeong-hoon tapped at the next page, even though it was already blank.
[This is the last page.]
[This is the last page.]
It was just pointless desperation.
Where the hell does that author live?
He’d enjoyed the novel for days, only for it to end like that! Pacing the convenience store like a furious Godzilla, Lee Jeong-hoon even checked the author’s social media—no plans for a sequel or side story.
Haaa…
Frustrated by the ending and overcome with a deep sense of emptiness, he returned to stocking shelves. When the bell over the door jingled, he looked up instinctively.
“Welcome.”
He said it automatically, only to see a man in a drooping hoodie walk straight toward him. It was a small neighborhood store—so he’d thought it odd to see an unfamiliar face at that hour.
That was his last memory.
Sudden searing pain in his gut—so intense he didn’t even have time to register the thought before everything went dark.
When he opened his eyes again, he was inside “Eddie’s Inn,” located in the central plaza of the capital of the Reneba Empire—as Eddie, the innkeeper.
What the actual hell.
And the Reneba Empire was the very setting of the novel The Hero Doesn’t Bother Hiding His Power, the one he’d just finished reading.