The Hero’s Welcome

I woke up the next morning, but nothing went as expected. Instead of the peaceful start to my day, I found myself staring into the snarling jaws of a massive dog. Its drool dripped onto my chest as a woman loomed over me, holding a wanted poster with my face on it.

"This you, right?" she asked, her voice dripping with smug confidence.

I groaned, my mind racing. *Bounty hunter. Damn it. Why now?* I had somewhere to be, and this was going to ruin everything. She started blabbering, giving herself an introduction. Her name was Elyra, and she wore a purple outfit that showed off more skin than necessary, like she was trying too hard to be some kind of seductive rogue. I rolled my eyes as her oversized dog continued to drool all over me.

She kept talking, going on and on about how she was the best bounty hunter in the kingdom and how I was just another mark. I finally cut her off. "If you're gonna kill me, do it now. Please. So I don't have to hear you talk."

She looked annoyed, but honestly, I was way more annoyed than she was. I was supposed to meet the hero today, and this woman had the audacity to get in my way. For a brief moment, I forgot about all my problems and thought about how satisfying it would be to humiliate her. But I didn't have time for that. I needed to get out of here.

As she rambled on, I made my move. I created an illusion of myself, one that could now have physical touch and even a scent, thanks to my improving magic. It didn't last long, but it was enough to buy me some time. The dog lunged at the illusion, thinking it was real, and I slipped away, putting on the mask I'd gotten from the shop. It not only hid my face but also masked my scent. Worth every coin, I thought, even though I hadn't actually paid for it. Maybe being part of the heroes' party had its perks after all.

Elyra soon burst out of the room, riding her giant dog like a horse, but they ran right past me. The mask had done its job. I smirked to myself and made my way to the kingdom to meet the hero.

The kingdom's grand hall was a sight to behold. It was a massive, opulent chamber with high vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes depicting the kingdom's history. The walls were lined with banners bearing the royal crest, and the floor was made of polished marble that reflected the light from the massive chandeliers hanging above. Long, ornate tables were set up for feasts, and at the far end of the hall stood a raised dais where the king's throne sat, flanked by statues of past rulers.

When I arrived, Garrick was waiting for me, arms crossed and looking less than pleased. "You're late," he said, his tone sharp.

I shrugged, trying to play it off. "You don't understand, there was a lady and a big dog. I mean, I was helping an old lady cross the street."

Garrick raised an eyebrow. "What are you on about, kid? Just get in there."

I followed him into the grand hall, where the rest of the party was gathered. And there he was—the hero.

Arthur was everything you'd expect from a hero summoned from another world. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a confident stance. His golden hair fell in perfect waves, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to look right through you. He wore gleaming silver armor adorned with intricate engravings, and a massive sword rested at his side. The sword itself was a work of art, its blade glowing faintly with divine energy. He introduced himself with a charming smile, his voice warm and commanding.

"I'm Arthur," he said, "summoned from another world to defeat the Demon Lord and protect this kingdom."

He went on to explain his class—**Chosen Hero**—and how he'd been blessed by the gods with incredible strength, speed, and magical abilities. He told the story of how he'd been pulled from his world, a place of "technology and convenience," and thrust into this one, where he'd been given a divine mission. The gods had chosen him, trained him, and sent him to lead the fight against the Demon Lord.

I listened, trying to hide the jealousy bubbling inside me. This could have been me. I could have been the one standing there, bathed in glory, with everyone hanging on my every word. But no, I'd been tossed aside like garbage, given a useless class and left to fend for myself. And yet, as much as I wanted to hate him, I couldn't. Arthur seemed… genuine. He was the kind of guy you'd want to play a video game with, not the kind you'd want to stab in the back. But that was neither here nor there.

Arthur finished his introduction and turned to me. "And you must be the new recruit. Garrick's told me about you. Welcome to the party."

I forced a smile and gave a phony story about how I'd always dreamed of being a hero and protecting the innocent. They ate it up, welcoming me with open arms. I couldn't help but laugh a little, chuckling out loud.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What's so funny?"

I quickly covered. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking about a joke I heard earlier."

Arthur grinned. "Oh yeah? What is it?"

I panicked for a second, then blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "What do you call a shoe made of a banana? A slipper."

Arthur stared at me for a moment, then burst out laughing. The rest of the party looked confused, clearly not understanding why he found it so funny. I couldn't help but think, *Really? That's all it takes?

Arthur wiped a tear from his eye. "That's a good one. Got any more?"

I hesitated, then decided to play along. "How much did the chimney cost? Nothing—it's on the house."

Arthur laughed even harder, slapping his knee, while the rest of the party looked like they were in physical pain. I couldn't believe it. The hero, the legendary savior of the kingdom, had the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old. It was almost endearing.

Just as the laughter died down, we heard screaming from the other room. It was the king, and he sounded furious. We all turned to see Elyra, the bounty hunter from earlier, standing before him, looking defeated.

"You failed to catch him!" the king roared. "You had one shot. One! And you let him get away. No more bounty hunting for you. You will join the heroes' party, and they will teach you to be a proper warrior."

I couldn't help but smirk. Proper warrior? She's a woman. I knew it was a little sexist, but in this world, that's just how things worked. The king's next words, however, wiped the smirk off my face.

"You must replace your brother," he said, his voice cold. "Since his death is on your hands."

Elyra flinched, her expression darkening. This was bad. If she joined the party, I'd have to keep my guard up at all times. That dog of hers had my scent, and even though the mask hid it now, I couldn't risk her figuring me out. And on top of that, I'd have to listen to her talk. Oh, the horror.

As the king dismissed her, I caught her eye. She glared at me, and I knew this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Arthur explained our mission: the Demon Lord was gone, but his army was still out there, causing trouble. Our job was to clean up the stragglers and protect the people. I pretended to be honored, playing the part of the eager recruit, but inside, I was already planning my next move.

As I lay in bed that night, my mind raced. This was going to be harder than I thought. I had to keep up the act, avoid Elyra, and figure out how to use this opportunity to my advantage. But one thing was clear—I couldn't let my guard down for a single second.

The shadow's voice echoed in my mind. Keep playing the game, Ren. You're the only one that matters.

I clenched my fists, trying to push the thought away. This wasn't a game. These people weren't NPCs. But if I wanted to survive, I'd have to play along—for now.

The Party's Dynamics

The heroes' party was a diverse group, each member bringing their own strengths and personalities to the table,but for some reason there was not a healer.

Arthur, the Chosen Hero*: The leader, with his golden hair and gleaming armor, was the embodiment of heroism. His class gave him unparalleled strength and divine magic, making him the backbone of the group.

Garrick, the Vanguard*: The tank, with his heavy armor and shield, was the protector. His class allowed him to draw enemy fire and protect his allies, making him indispensable in battle.

Eldrin, the Arcane Scholar*: The elven wizard, with his silver hair and glowing staff, was the strategist. His mastery of elemental magic made him a powerful ally, but his aloof demeanor kept him at a distance.

Tharok, the Berserker*: The orc, with his massive axe and scars, was the brute force. His class allowed him to enter a state of rage, increasing his strength and speed, but at the cost of control.

Lira, the Shadowblade*: The rogue, with her dark leather armor and daggers, was the scout. Her ability to move unseen and strike from the shadows made her a deadly opponent.

Elyra, the Bounty Hunter*: The newcomer, with her purple outfit and giant dog, was the wildcard. Her skills as a tracker and her determination to prove herself made her a potential threat.

As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement. This was my chance to prove myself, to show them that I was more than just a street performer. But I also knew that one wrong move could cost me everything.

The shadow's voice echoed in my mind again. You're the player, Ren. Don't forget that.

I closed my eyes, trying to push the thought away. But deep down, I knew it was true. This was my game, and I was going to win it—no matter what it took.