“We have no use for those who cannot fight. Get out.”
The king spat those words from atop his throne. His voice was as quiet as ice.
As you can see, my status is lined up with all the lowest numbers. I do not have a single ounce of fighting power. Of course, I am going to be chased out. It is only natural.
A sound of snickering leaked into the grand hall.
“Look at his status. It is completely stuck at the starting value of one.”
That is a familiar voice. They were people who were in the same classroom until just a little while ago. Well, I knew I would be laughed at. Because I did not pick a single thing to fight with, and simply picked up two leftover items that nobody else even looked at, on a whim.
It is not like I wanted amazing power or anything. It was just… well, because it looked easy. That is all there is to it.
Even so, I do not think I made a mistake.
Why did I end up having to make a choice like this? I want you to rewind time just a little bit.
Until just a little while ago, I was just a high school student. It was that ordinary kind of time after school. That is precisely why it was so sudden. A roar that felt like it was thrusting up from the bottom of the earth. The school building tilted with a lurch, screams, and a falling ceiling… and from that point on, no matter how much I try to remember, it is cut off cleanly as if covered in a haze.
When I next realized it, my feet were glowing, my field of vision was pure white, and when I opened my eyes, I was standing in a stone-built hall I had never seen before. Ah, I see. Did I die?
Strangely, there was no fear. In a corner of my mind, it just settled with a strange and quiet acceptance that this was an undeniable fact. My parents flashed across my mind for a moment. Well, who knows what they think. It was a hard-to-read household.
Around me stood about ten people in the same state. They were all members who happened to be in that after-school building. Because of club activities, staying behind, or whatever respective reason. And, probably… they died there just like me. The things we wore—school uniforms, club jerseys—clung to our ordinary daily lives from just moments ago, looking terribly out of place and floating awkwardly in this stone hall.
I don’t even know half of their names. The rest, I only match their faces and names vaguely. As for me, I was in the going-home club, not the type to hang out with anyone. In other words, I was the kind of person who probably no one would notice whether I was in the classroom or not.
“Is this what they call another-world reincarnation?”
Someone said with a trembling voice. My first thought was neither fear nor excitement, but: “Oh man, I feel like this has turned into something troublesome.” I think I lack charm, even to myself.
Still, this is just my nature. Too-good-to-be-true stories always have a catch. Ever since I was little, my intuition strangely works only on things like that. And what was right in front of me looked way too good to be true, no matter how I saw it.
“Welcome, heroes.”
A voice rained down from the throne in front. A middle-aged man draped in luxurious robes. He seemed to be the king of this country. He spread his arms and wore a smile like a father.
“Our country is now facing the threat of the Demon King. You are the chosen ones to defeat him. Please, save this world.”
“Oh,” someone next to me said with shining eyes. Heroes. Saving the world. It is an age where your heart races at words like that. I understand the feeling.
As for me, one thing caught on before my heart could race. The words of a foreign king were somehow passing through smoothly. Was it the work of a god who called us? This kind of convenience is completely untrustworthy. That is why I silently watched the king’s face.
The corners of his mouth were definitely smiling. But his eyes were not smiling. What should I call it? Rather than the eyes of someone looking at people, they were the eyes of someone counting numbers. How many came, how many can be used. He was probably thinking about things like that. …Yeah, this is not just a simple “please save us.”
It was just as I expected. When one of them shouted, “This is a joke, send me back to the original world!”, the king did not break his smile and said quietly:
“Send you back? …How pitiful. Do you still not understand? In your original world, your lives have already ended. God picked up those fading souls and brought them to this land. There is no place for you to return to. The yous of the original world are already nowhere to be found. …Or what? Will you defy me and leave this place right now? Without a map, without supplies, without backing, an outsider who knows not a single rule of this world, all by yourself. Once you take a single step out of human lands, that territory is infested with monsters. How long can you survive without even holding a sword? …I will not stop you.”
His voice remained gentle, but only the meaning was chillingly cold. Being thrown into that monster’s land empty-handed. There was no need to think about what that meant. The guy who shouted bit his lip and fell silent. I understand it well now. Here, if you are not useful as combat power, you are not needed. Throw them out and let them die on the roadside on their own—that is all there is to it.
“Do not worry. …It is not as if I am just going to drive you out. The summoning ritual is not over yet.”
The king paused his words there.
“It was not I who called you to this world. It was God. And that God will grant you power as a farewell gift.”
As he said that, the king took a step back from the throne. Despite saying he would grant it, his hands did nothing. He simply looked quietly up at the heavens. The next moment, the air in the hall shuddered heavily.
From far beyond the high ceiling, an unseen light quietly descended without anyone’s help. A light belonging neither to the king nor anyone else, just from above, gathered in front of each and every one of us in the shape of a pale window.
Unfamiliar words and numbers were lined up. It looked just like a game status screen. But the contents were still empty, and the numbers were all lined up at the very lowest point.
And that was not all. Around the window, filling the space of the hall, dozens of glowing cards floated softly. On each and every one of those cards, a name, a price, and detailed explanations were carved in letters of light. They belonged to no one. They were simply open to everyone equally there.
“God will grant each of you one hundred points. Each and every one of those cards is a piece of God’s power—a ‘Skill.’ Within the hundred points, you may choose freely. One, or many, as you like.”
The king’s voice echoed beneath the light.
“I must tell you, I do not grasp the full picture of what cards exist either. Because it is the work of God. What I do know is that better cards cost more, and there is a limit to their numbers. If someone takes it, that card disappears from the air. It is first-come, first-served. Aim well.”
First-come, first-served. With those words, the air tightened sharply. No sooner had he finished speaking than the group rushed forward with their faces close together.
“Hey, stronger ones are first-come, first-served, let’s divide the work.”
“I’ll look at the attack types.”
“We need healing too, right?”
Even in a panic, people flock together in times like these. The ten or so people gathered their shoulders together in no time and started discussing which cards in the air each person should grab. The one taking charge was a guy with a loud voice in the class—Takamiya, was it? He skillfully assigned roles as if he were used to it.
I was outside of that circle.
Rather than being pushed away—probably, I was not counted from the start. A going-home club guy whose name wasn’t even known would never be called into the circle during such an important situation. Here, too, it is the same. My place in the classroom was always just like that.
During recess, a burst of laughter rises from the circle of loud people like Takamiya. I am mindlessly fiddling with my smartphone on my own seat, not even listening.
It is not that I want to join the conversation. It is just that I do not feel like I can fit in. Occasionally, when someone thoughtfully throws a topic my way, the tempo of the conversation shifts by half a beat when I reply. In that subtle gap, I am the one who smiles weakly first and cuts the conversation short.
That sort of thing has already become a habit. They are not bad guys. It is just that the worlds we live in are a little different. That is all there is to it.
“You are… well, you can go last, right?”
Takamiya said without even looking at me. I do not think he even had malicious intent. Just a guy who didn’t matter if he was there or not. That has always been my standing position.
Last, huh?
In other words, by the time my turn comes, not a single good card will be left. I look down at the window in front of me. The skill column is still empty. No matter what I put in here, it will probably end up as just shabby cards that everyone else left behind.
Then what should I choose?