Name: Eddie.
Occupation: Owner of “Eddie’s Inn,” located in the central plaza of the capital.
The inn, with its lazily named “Eddie’s Inn,” had only been a brief, passing mention in the original novel. Just a single line of description.
[Eddie’s Inn, located in the central plaza of the capital, was a quiet inn with meager earnings despite its prime location and cleanliness.]
That was it.
Naturally, there was no mention of the innkeeper Eddie, nor any explanation as to why the inn wasn’t profitable despite being in such a good location.
And Eddie—or rather, the man who had once been convenience store owner Lee Jeong-hoon—suddenly found himself possessing the body of this Eddie.
From a corner-store manager tucked away in a residential complex, he’d “changed careers” to become the owner of an inn in a great location that, for some reason, barely attracted customers.
Should he be grateful for this? Or just depressed?
“I mean… Thanks for the second life, I guess…”
Eddie mumbled under his breath.
The former Lee Jeong-hoon—now Eddie—took exactly two days to come to terms with this ridiculous possession. During that time, he didn’t think about the novel or anything else; he just stayed holed up in his room.
The first thing he had to accept was his own death.
Death.
Sometimes his friends used to joke that he was working himself too hard, that he was going to die young.
He never imagined it would actually happen like that.
“Haa…”
Eddie let out a deep sigh. He remembered the final moment clearly. That burning pain in his abdomen—it hadn’t even felt like pain. It had just been hot. So brutal that he barely had time to register it before his life was snuffed out. In a way, it might’ve been a mercy that it ended so quickly.
When he told his parents in his twenties that he was going to open a convenience store, they tried to stop him right away. They suggested he become a civil servant instead, but he had pounded his chest, saying he was going to build something of his own, make it big.
He’d made sure his part-timers got their full minimum wage, plus weekly holiday pay. In return, he worked more. On weekdays, he manned the store full-time except for night hours, and handled all the logistics, refrigeration—everything—by himself.
He figured once things got on track, he’d expand, open more stores, and find some breathing room. He was willing to suffer while young to get there.
“……”
Hah. He let out a hollow laugh before he even realized it.
If he’d known things would end so meaninglessly, maybe he should’ve listened to his parents and studied for the civil service exam. Then maybe he wouldn’t have died such a pointless death. Maybe he wouldn’t have ended up in this world.
“Ugh…”
At last, the tears he had been holding back broke loose.
What was he supposed to do now? His mom probably collapsed from the shock. He hoped she wouldn’t grieve too much.
They say the greatest of all unfilial acts is dying before your parents—and he had managed to do exactly that.
Eddie cried for a long time. For the first two days after his possession, he just cried endlessly. No time to be amazed that he’d transmigrated into a fantasy world, no chance to look around and assess his new reality—he was too overwhelmed by sadness.
And then, on the third day, he pulled himself together.
Crying changed nothing. He’d grieved enough. Now it was time to move. That was the only reason. He wasn’t the type to be crushed by emotions. Lee Jeong-hoon—or rather, Eddie—was too proactive, too optimistic.
“Mr. Eddie, are you all right?”
Gerold, the inn’s only employee, had managed the place perfectly even while Eddie locked himself in his room and drowned in grief. With a worried expression, the ever-loyal employee peeked in, and Eddie greeted him with a bright smile.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He had no idea what the original Eddie had been like. This damned possession didn’t even come with the benefit of inherited memories. He didn’t know anything, not even Gerold’s name, until the man had said, “Mr. Eddie, still hungover? It’s me, Gerold.”
Well, at least he got a full language patch, a completely intact, handsome body with a good build. That was something.
Even if the character had been practically background noise in the original novel.
“Sorry for making you work alone, Gerold.”
Eddie said it with a hearty tone. Gerold shook his head.
“Not at all. You’ve helped me plenty before.”
Not a hint of resentment in his voice. As if this level of dedication was just expected.
“……”
Eddie clamped his mouth shut before he could say anything suspicious. It stung a bit. In his past life, he’d worked hard, doing all the dirty jobs himself—and now here he was again.
And since he’d possessed an innkeeper, he was stuck running his own business again in this life too.
In his past life, his goal was to become a successful franchise owner. In this one… he figured it’d be enough to run a nice, clean inn in a good location and keep food on the table.
“You’ll die young at this rate.”
Just like his friends used to joke—maybe he really had worked himself to death.
He didn’t want that again. His new goal in life was to live slow and long.
But that resolve wavered a bit when he checked the inn’s account books.
“Gerold?”
“Yes?”
“This is really our monthly income?”
Gerold glanced at the ledger Eddie was holding. It was a magic register that auto-recorded transactions—unfortunately, impossible to tamper with.
“Yes.”
“……”
Holy crap.
This tiny, pitiful excuse for revenue—was this even real? You could make more money selling a squirrel’s stash of acorns.
Okay, that was an exaggeration… but compared to the location, the numbers were a disaster.
Even though the first floor was a restaurant and bar, most of the revenue came from guests staying overnight. The food and drinks practically brought in nothing.
No wonder the place was always empty during the day.
“The menu!”
Eddie shouted. Gerold promptly fetched it.
The menu was a single, flimsy page.
They called themselves a restaurant and a bar, but the thinness of the menu was almost offensive.
[Menu]
French Fries
Fried Fish
Fruit Platter
[Drinks]
Beer
“……”
That was it. No pictures. No descriptions. This menu might as well have been telling customers, “We don’t have what you’re looking for. Leave.”
In this fantasy world, restaurant customers became bar customers, and bar customers became inn guests—it was a natural cycle. But this menu broke that entire flow.
Sure, Eddie’s Inn had great location going for it, but there were other inns nearby too. Compared to them, this place had zero competitive edge in food or drink.
No wonder it was barely scraping by, despite such favorable conditions.
Did the original Eddie never realize what the problem was? How could he leave it like this?
“…Haa.”
Eddie fell deep into thought. How should he fix this?
Gerold was talented—good at cooking, cleaning, everything. But it would take serious brainstorming to decide what new items to add to the menu and what direction to take the business.
“I need to advertise too… augh.”
And since Eddie didn’t inherit any of the original’s memories, he had no idea what kind of food the people of this empire liked.
You need to know your market before you prepare, right?
Maybe… maybe he should try introducing a dish that didn’t exist in this world at all? Something totally new?
What kind of dish would people here fall in love with?
Eddie spent several days just staring at the menu, racking his brain. And it wasn’t until exactly a week after he possessed this body—on day five of his business crisis—that Gerold finally brought something up.
That day too, Eddie sat with the pathetic menu and a blank sheet of parchment, wracking his brain about what to add and how to promote it.
This was his second chance at life—he had to be careful. Even without any answers yet, he clung to the menu, lost in thought.
“But, Mr. Eddie.”
“…Yeah?”
“About the basement we talked about before.”
The basement?
Eddie had no clue what that was about, but not wanting to blow his cover as a memory-less possessor, he bluffed.
“Oh, yeah. That basement. What about it?”
“It still won’t open. Even my magic doesn’t work on it. You said you’d take a look before, remember?”
Eddie had no idea his inn even had a basement. Then again, the original novel had given the place only a single sentence of description, so literally everything about it was unfamiliar.
He was only able to remember that much because he’d been the type to treat skipping even one line like a crime. Anyone else would’ve forgotten it entirely.
A basement, huh? If even magic didn’t work on the door, there wasn’t much he could do. But if he’d said he’d take a look before, there must’ve been a reason. Might as well check it out.
“But hey, Gerold—”
Eddie had started to ask something but stopped himself. Seeing Gerold looking at him curiously, he smiled awkwardly.
“…It’s nothing.”
There are two sure ways to piss someone off: one is starting to say something and then stopping. Still, loyal Gerold didn’t get annoyed at all. Truly a devoted employee.
…But seriously, something didn’t add up.
What Eddie had almost asked was, “Gerold, how do you even know how to use magic?” He didn’t say it aloud for fear of sounding suspicious.
In the world of The Hero Doesn’t Bother Hiding His Power, magic was incredibly rare.
Affinity for mana had to be innate. And even if someone was born with it, magic was the domain of the nobility. Commoners rarely had the chance to learn it. It was a precious and exclusive art.
Even Boram, the mage in the hero’s party, had been born into a great noble house despite her talent.
But Gerold, who was clearly just a humble worker at this no-name inn… could use magic?
Eddie didn’t know what level of magic he was capable of, but the fact that he could use it at all made him extremely high-value in this world.
“Hmm…”
Well, whatever. That was something to figure out later. No need to rush—especially not when you’re someone who got thrown into a world like this with absolutely nothing.
For now, Eddie decided to check out the basement Gerold had mentioned. It wasn’t like staring at the menu any longer was going to magically solve anything. He could use the break.
Normally, the basement of a building like this would be used for storage, maybe a wine cellar. But Eddie had already given up on expecting anything grand from this stupid inn. He wasn’t hoping for some fancy wine collection or a treasure trove of supplies.
He just wanted the damned door to open.
And when he descended the stairs to the basement, he found something totally unexpected: the door that supposedly wouldn’t budge with magic… was wide open.
Actually, it wasn’t just open—the door was gone.
And from inside poured a light unlike anything Eddie had seen since arriving in this world.
“…Huh?”
In this world, “lighting” meant candlelight, or magic lamps. And even the expensive magic ones didn’t shine like this. Something was very off.
The light was so bright that the usually dark basement stairs were bathed in soft illumination.
Eddie flinched for a moment, then cautiously began his descent. The old stairs creaked under his feet. And when he reached the bottom, what he saw made him question reality itself.
“……”
What… is this?
He rubbed his eyes once, but the sight before him didn’t change.
Bright, unnatural lighting that didn’t belong in this world. No music played, but the space was clean and modern. The hum of refrigerators and freezers filled the air, and the shelves were lined wall to wall with neatly arranged products.
This place—this room—was a space Eddie knew all too well.
To be exact, it was familiar to Lee Jeong-hoon, the convenience store owner.
“…Why the hell is my convenience store down here?”
That’s exactly what it was.
The neat little store Lee Jeong-hoon had worked so hard to keep spotless in his past life… was sitting right here, in the basement of Eddie’s Inn.