Ch.11. [URGENT] Hero Party, 1 or 2 Members Needed (1)

# I Won’t Return

A novel where the protagonist’s anger is palpable from the title itself. It’s about a protagonist who gets expelled from the hero’s party due to the stupid hero’s jealousy of his competence. The saint who had a crush on the protagonist leaves the party along with him, and the hero’s party, having lost both their saint and ace, struggles to survive.

‘I really feel sorry for the hero.’

That was a joke. I wrote that short comment and posted it. But as they say, a stone thrown in jest might kill a frog. To someone, my comment wasn’t a joke. The day after posting that comment, I found myself sitting at the hero’s desk, banging my head against it.

“Where did it all go wrong?”

At my muttering, the giant in the corner let out a sigh. It sounded like a sigh that would make anyone think I was pathetic.

“Indeed. Where did it all go wrong?”

The giant’s name was George Gunther. A warrior in heavy armor. Even his name sounded like it was packed with muscles. Of course, unlike his appearance, he was the most responsible and thoughtful person in this party. While the saint and the swordsman left one after another, he stayed until the end to help the hero in this hopeless party.

“You must take responsibility for the choice you made. Still, given your position, I don’t think you made this decision without any thought.”

I never chose this. Is this what they call responsibility without pleasure? Sensing George’s expectant gaze, I reluctantly opened my mouth. If George were to leave this party too, there would be no hope left for me.

“…I didn’t expect Isis to leave.”

“Didn’t you anticipate some backlash? You must have known how close those two were.”

I know, of course I know. Eventually, she’ll find Aryen who was expelled from the party, and they’ll end up together. This hero had a crush on Isis. Thanks to his impulsive action without thinking of the consequences, the entire party suffers, the hero acts out alone, and eventually, they all perish.

“Frankly speaking, this decision was nothing short of foolish. You could have at least talked to me first. Though you’ve never listened to me before.”

George’s words, spoken as if I was pathetic, stung. I leaned back in my chair and tilted my head back. If I close my eyes and open them, I’ll be home. If I close my eyes and open them, I’ll be home. I closed my eyes, trying to hypnotize myself.

“Things will get tough from now on. Remember, we were incredibly lucky when we defeated the third calamity.”

Damn. Not home after all. When I opened my eyes, George was there, unfolding his tightly crossed arms as he spoke. I tried to avoid his downward gaze by rolling my eyes in the opposite direction. After staring down at me for a while, George shook his head. Don’t do that. I might really cry.

“I hope you won’t just sit there blankly, Ilroy. I’ll be heading home for today. It’s a rare vacation, but don’t be reckless from now on.”

With that, George left, his voice echoing like a cave. Unlike Isis’s clicking footsteps, George’s steps were heavy, making the entire building seem to shake. Even after George left, I stared at the door with a blank expression for a long time. My thoughts settled like tea leaves at the bottom of a cup. It felt like a storm had swept over me and passed.

Ilroy.

Only then, with George’s last words, did I remember this body’s name. Yes, Ilroy. Since the hero was always referred to as “the hero,” hardly any readers remembered his name. Even I, a devoted reader, had just recalled it, so imagine how it would be for casual readers.

“Not a very heroic name.”

Isn’t it too ordinary for a hero? I was having such a random thought when suddenly, anger welled up, and I banged on the desk.

“Damn it, almighty author. Would it have killed you to have me possess him three days earlier?”

Then at least I wouldn’t have expelled the protagonist and could have pretended to be diligently fighting calamities behind his back!

After having my outburst alone, I suddenly felt drained and sprawled on the desk like a jellyfish.

“If I had known this would happen, I would have left a scathing comment instead.”

I said that and then slapped my face with my palms. The voice coming from my mouth felt awkward, and every movement felt strange. I got up and paced around the room. If someone had seen me, I would have looked like a dog that needed to pee. Or just a madman.

As I wandered, my eyes fell on a full-length mirror in the corner of the room. The massive George had been blocking the corner, so I hadn’t noticed the mirror there. I dragged my feet towards it. Let me at least see what I look like before I die.

“…What an unlikable bastard.”

As soon as I stood in front of the mirror, that’s all I could say. The hero, Ilroy’s face, was literally unlikable. First, his hair was mouse-colored. Not a cool silver, not a subtle ash, but literally mouse-colored. It was a strange color, dark at the roots and gradually turning white towards the ends.

His eyes. Amidst a shadowed face with distinct features, the most noticeable were his green eyes. Rather than shining, they seemed dead. Not the freshness of verdant green but the damp dark green of a jungle. The slightly upturned corners of his eyes were distinctive. His nose was sharp, but the subtly vile curve of his lips ruined the overall impression. A handsome third-rate villain. If I had to sum it up in one line, that’s what the hero looked like.

“As expected, I don’t like how he looks.”

I clicked my tongue and returned to my seat. If I remember correctly, this space used to be the hero party’s hideout, specially provided by the kingdom. The location was perfect, south-facing with a view of the entire royal city. I looked out the window, trying to calm myself.

Alright, enough with the outbursts. Let’s organize my thoughts. If I’ve been possessed, I should act like it, even if it’s a hateful character.

I’ve become Ilroy, the villain of “I Won’t Return.” This guy, with his extremely self-centered personality and stupidity, cut off the actual ace of the hero’s party, saying he was useless. All because of jealousy.

Then the healer, without whom the party couldn’t function, also left. Now, all that remains in the hero’s party is one tank, one mage who constantly tormented the protagonist, and one useless hero with nothing but a Holy Sword. A pitiful combination. In the latter part of the original work, they hardly appear. Only brief news of their annihilation with new party members is heard.

Summarizing it like this, I’m losing motivation.

“Can’t I just give up?”

Comfortably. Return the Holy Sword, go to the countryside, and farm. Since it’s the original story, there’s no need to get involved in complicated battles like saving the world.

“That’s absolutely not possible.”

Of course, if I did that, I’d be silently killed by the kingdom and the holy nation. It’s because of the Holy Sword. Once the Holy Sword acknowledges someone as its master, it won’t serve another until that person dies. In the original work, the useless hero died, and ownership passed to the protagonist.

“I don’t want to die.”

I’d like to wait for the protagonist to single-handedly eliminate “The Seven Calamity,” but if I drag it out too long, the kingdom and holy nation will pressure me. Hero, what are you doing not working? Should we transfer the ownership of the Holy Sword to someone else? Like that.

Rejected, rejected. Both options rejected. To survive as a hero in this world, there was only one way, though it was cliché.

“Do I need to become stronger…?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I looked at the sword on the desk with resentful eyes. Even when I picked up the hilt and looked at it threateningly, the Holy Sword remained silent, its sheath tightly closed like a mouth. What am I doing?

I put the sword back on the desk.

Setting aside becoming stronger, I needed to somehow fill the huge gap in the hero’s party. I wasn’t hoping for the saint or the protagonist. If I could find someone who could do even half of what they could, I’d be willing to bow deeply to them.

“I need to get moving.”

Requesting support from the kingdom was out of the question. If I remember correctly, the kingdom didn’t particularly like Ilroy. The only thing they liked about him was his stupidity. A hero who’s untrustworthy and consumes a lot of tax money. Perfect for political games.

“I can’t walk to my own grave.”

I looked down at the streets of the royal city. Below were high-rise buildings that didn’t seem medieval at all. It was like a European city center had been transplanted here. Having only traveled to neighboring countries a few times in my life, it felt strange. I gazed at it with a wistful look, as if it might be the last scenery I’d ever see.

“…Alright.”

I picked up a pen and a random piece of paper. I began to scribble on the paper as thoughts came to mind.

==

George Gunther let out a brief sigh as he left the house.

It had been five days since the hero, Ilroy, had arbitrarily fired Aryen. George, who was on vacation, found out two days ago, and Isis found out just yesterday. He wanted to grab the hero by the collar and demand to know why he had done such a thing. Or find Aryen and Isis, who had disappeared, and beg them to come back, saying the hero had misspoken and they were sorry.

“Does he even have a brain?”

Those two were essentially eighty percent of their fighting power. Though they always let the hero deliver the final blow for the sake of his reputation, it was always Aryen who had killed most of the enemies. And it was the saint, Isis, who quickly healed George, who acted as a meat shield on the front lines.

“Damn hero.”

As someone in public office, he was even more angry that he couldn’t just abandon the hero’s party. Meanwhile, the mage had gone on a long vacation somewhere and couldn’t be found. The more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t see a solution.

Still, when Isis came to say she was leaving the party, Ilroy seemed to come to his senses, his face turning pale and his mouth just opening and closing. If it had been the usual Ilroy, it wouldn’t have been surprising if he had trashed the office. It would have been better if he had gotten angry and destroyed things as usual. Ilroy’s shocked expression only made George more angry.

“…Tsk.”

George headed to the adventurer’s guild out of habit. He felt like he needed to take on a simple mission and defeat something to feel better.

Bang.

As he opened the main door of the adventurer’s guild, the noisy adventurers suddenly fell silent. George realized that all their gazes were focused on him and frowned.

Why are they acting like this? They’re not the type to pay so much attention just because I walked in.

“Mr. George! Is that true?”

“No, coming here at this time, he’s obviously here to check on that, you idiot!”

“Is it related to defeating the third calamity?”

George made an indescribable expression as he watched the adventurers rushing towards him. The adventurers, seeing his reaction, tilted their heads in confusion.

“See, he looks like he doesn’t know. I told you it was a scam.”

“No, if someone impersonated them like that, wouldn’t they be arrested immediately? Especially doing it openly at the adventurer’s guild?”

“I saw the hero himself come and post the notice yesterday!”

George pushed away the clinging adventurers and asked.

“What’s going on?”

“Check the bulletin board. Someone has posted a recruitment ad in the name of the hero’s party.”

Recruitment ad?

George was led by the adventurers’ hands to the central bulletin board. A board cluttered with request notices and recruitment ads. George’s eyes fell on one recruitment notice.

[Urgent] Hero’s Party, 1 or 2 members.

Qualifications: Mage of 4th circle or higher. Or someone with experience in solo quests of 2nd grade or higher.

And below, the hero Ilroy’s handwritten signature. George immediately recognized that it was genuinely posted by the hero. The interview date was a week later.

“This… crazy bastard.”

A curse like a scream escaped from George’s mouth.