In a galaxy, far away to readers residing on Earth, there in a nation called Lahanezy, now lived an errant man called Watanabe. There were not many Watanabe’s in the land that he had found himself in; it was quite the lonely setting for prospective Watanabes.
Our titular hero Watanabe was a man that once had many dreams and plans for the afterlife. He wanted to gather a harem, he wanted to become a great hero and he had also planned on becoming overpowered.
Unfortunately, these dreams of his quickly died once he experienced dying. His last vestiges of protagonistliness were stripped away from him as he slowly realized he was nothing more than an everyman in a low fantasy world.
He went through the five stages of grief in his as-of-yet brief stint. First, he was in denial, trying to ignore the fact that there were no systems in this otherworld. Then anger defeated him as he was endlessly frustrated at some vague notion of an “author”. Bargaining came with his second death when he tried to convince himself that just staying in the after-afterlife would be good enough for him. Depression hit him after his third coming, when he couldn’t find what to do in this new world.
Now, thanks to his time in the deep abyss of the cave, he had slowly reached acceptance.
This was a world in which Watanabe was not the focus, not the hero, not the protagonist, a world where he was the most lay of laypersons and the most prole of the proles.
He’d need to accept that the author was cruel, that he needed to work and not lay back.
Watanabe would need to temper his quixotism, bit by bit.
Under the candlelight of the guest room our hero was studying the Lahanezite alphabet. He was suddenly interrupted by Rabanowicz approaching him and dropping a small stack of papers on his desk.
“Monsieur, I hope you haven’t forgotten the fact that I’ve hired you as a computer.” said Rabanowicz while she pointed at the papers full of numbers. “I need your help in calculating these.”
“What are these for?” asked Watanabe upon examining the papers. I think this is read as… “Le-ng-th, ro-a-d, e-xp-en-se-s” I think.
“We’re going to go on a long journey east. I’ve already calculated where we’ll need to visit. I need you to calculate what supplies will cost on average using the standard costs of items I’ve given you.”
I’d love it if I had a computer for this number-crunching business, thought Watanabe. Still, he wasn’t too bad in manual calculation, and he was decently versed in finance. “Then, good night to you doctor. I should be finished in an hour or so.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
Rabanowicz smirked in response. “Good night then, ‘Doctor’ Watanabe.” She had been getting some proper sleep for the last few days. Her mood was certainly better, looking less stoic and more alive.
Watanabe, lump of graphite in hand, began his long night of computing.
[https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/qDzZPwA7vydObmbPIbDkq75X_3crTwsCN2jnViH7fzsuAfHm6tWidLLZklIwQK9_NDEwKzzMYOPJAfBrNeUpvI-rTDYIGbVymNTDsHJ9ACiB1c0EN_rAkOIBNz4MHsBjUIab5Uyy01A7pSInj7XWTuMvUUKI6rbJGBBCqMuaX_wOk07vgu5Fpl1xRONJflSxTQvSTyvOA2l8M1tzr0Ic2KmaAvba2KK37tlP0CnbVu-ww2CkaKk7tJysQyOXzNZZs_5Dcp9n0dFNunO1lismpJ70SxINH-lJy_WiU-crlqgGv6DjlTXWdrTnojcuBHsWWxwfuJF1XWrh3Onprgf8i1AkJ6FZExEyzsi4yCvxug4aFiUvN72Gw-OoGGppCt5TOA9XapNUXw88oPr5zyakmiXKOlfbeUMLVi9c2254VwNMvdIXGKkj7iM2sLDXGE44h7ltoTU88hdvYp5dE3ejdjfwSJ4ojFsWxLCbnnasXUZ21VIMc4U3KDLjnsZ_SFym7iM-kLZbZHCFuwBG_5bqWNbaGRAUGbqbsVDr708Uj7m65-V8fK8G1EYE4soAGW-Ez8EVyzbdU-HuFei0NZxhmzkiUIRXpE3HuXc3-ONjf0iwe5o3WXWj4wVyfSKG0CFOtpXrt0LEnm6FWOQGCE6f-7qF9Zxo5xicC1TwoISTvRcsJTrcj-6tCLV8fSV0poDjFyfDJin92vSu4YkNZMkGDVkSO-C5XhnHLFi41EpsFnn-sMH9u79RBmBEejxS0PfF4Gqsh7iHQ03NJrLRUcqDcCOxAPG06rXKc7t4shlkrixBLZK0k-4_q-bls700V31nTr4D8c0Oh_MZKHsJMaUDCfhG63VWkbIPwRlT2NpjQ4CyVM2m5cyScBnnKMPFFeXYpFiLMsO7nodjhIUiOiafHqu-OSO3xzFb1vDQtRvZ-BROc1YvivshY3h-eR-ndP4pEqfCQYmbdP8ZmJ0UzpOcQQ=w1759-h100-no?authuser=0]
Our hero and Rabanowicz had left the palace early next day.
They didn’t really want to get involved in any more palatial business than needed.
The pair stood outside the gates of Brasscirom. Rabanowicz had a map and compass (borrowed from the palace) in hand, and Watanabe stood beside her while she tried to figure out which path to take.
Idly standing next to Rabanowicz, our hero thought about his experiences in Lahanezy. Sure, there was that time he was forced to drink lye water, that time he was knocked out by the ghost-woman, not to mention that time he could have been executed due to pretending to be a diplomat.
Yet, there were also the times where he had a gay old time with the soldiers around the campfire, when he had found a reasonable employer in the form of Rabanowicz, and when he had been treated to a feast by the ruler of the realm. It wasn’t all bad, he thought now with a clearer head.
Rabanowicz pointed to a path that laid vaguely to the east. “Right, it should be this way. Are you ready, monsieur?”
“I was reborn ready.” replied Watanabe.
Our hero took a step forward with Rabanowicz, not in hopes of acquiring a giant harem, nor in the hopes of becoming overpowered, but hoping that things might just turn out better in the future.
Though, he wouldn’t mind it, of course, if all of the above finally happened.
[https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/AL9nZEV9F-8qHMTquvTSlCYYeS1y5yPGaDG-B8xQxHSm146i0Ghe_RVhcTG3mOmsoOpDe1SuvD-5sqIaFYqV9w5UI4zM57wmzqwF2gsBv6HGYaKDz8ZYPyBO2yCMoJsvYufYsOpBXgomt76qOhUHiQm4MBBw=w647-h500-no?authuser=0]
…Damn it, Watanabe, you’ve ruined this isekai power fantasy romp!
You know what, I need to take a break. Narrators deserve a break, right? I want to read about someone who doesn’t give up on being the protagonist. By the narrator, why did I choose such a loser’s life to narrate…
…Wait, is this thing still continuing? It’s the end of the first book or whatever.
It’s finished. Finito. Fin. Here's the big old "to be continued", leave this poor narrrator alone!
TO BE CONTINUED…