There were nine characters in total, but looking at the Effort Scores, Belsus was ranked fifth.
...He was in the bottom tier.
"..."
Normally, seeing a low report card should spark indignation, or at least a burning desire to crush the competition and win at all costs...
Instead, I just felt numb. It was as if someone had smacked me in the back of the head.
There was a nearly threefold difference in score between Belsus and the top-ranked Magic Tower Master. Even the Alchemist, who constantly spammed low-effort replies like "k" and "whatever" in the chat, had clearly been taking far better care of their character, the Doctor, than I had. The Bard, who was around me, had also been actively supporting Persephone.
Only four characters had Effort Scores lower than mine:
Royal Knight 'Calain' <Score: 440>
Princess 'Cherina' <Score: 392>
Secretary 'Shaz' <Score: 220>
Priest 'Endymion' <Score: 0>
Calain's low score was unavoidable, given that the Transmigrator playing the Archer was practically unable to approach him at this point in the story.
As for the bottom three, they were tied to characters who either had heavily delayed early-game progression or were currently going through severe mental turmoil in the narrative. It was only natural that their Transmigrators couldn't do much yet.
So, excluding the ones who are structurally blocked from making progress... out of everyone who can actively support their character, I'm dead last.
I genuinely thought I was providing Belsus with the best possible support, but in the end, I was just a small-minded civilian who only knew how to cook and farm. That was the harsh reality.
Not that I was arrogantly assuming I’d done the world for Belsus, but...
I really had tried my best. I meticulously planned every single meal and sourced every high-quality ingredient I could find.
Thump.
Something warm and solid bumped against me. I looked up.
A bare, muscular chest filled my vision, startling me for a second, until I recognized the familiar, pale pectoral muscles. Belsus had waded out into the middle of the field and was standing there, his arm extended to support me by the collarbone.
"...What is it?"
"What do you mean? You were crouching there and almost tipped face-first into the potato flowers..."
Was I falling over?
I stared at his ruggedly handsome face. Despite being thirty, his skin was surprisingly fair and clear, which meant that if he didn't shave meticulously every day, he quickly took on a distinctly wild and untamed look.
I took a deep breath.
The throbbing ache at the back of my head subsided. My sense of reality returned, and my mind cleared.
Wallowing in self-pity over my incompetence wouldn't fix anything. It was like making a mistake at work and getting the worst performance review; glaring angrily at the report card wouldn't magically change the results.
"Sorry. I zoned out for a moment. Go back to what you were doing."
Belsus was remarkably obedient. He straightened up and walked out of the field as I asked, though he kept casting worried glances back at me.
I tightened my grip on the gardening shears that had nearly slipped from my hand. As I resumed pruning the potato flowers, I refocused my attention on the status window.
I toggled off the "Effort Score Only" filter and loaded the comprehensive overall rankings. Instantly, the status window filled with a dense wall of data.
Magic Tower Master 'Eden' <Rank 2 / S-Class / Score 4653>
Doctor 'Hester' <Rank 125 / A-Class / Score 3440>
Assassin 'Icarus' <Rank 245 / A-Class / Score 2440>
Mercenary 'Belsus' <Rank 319 / B-Class / Score 1620>
Royal Knight 'Calain' <Rank 336 / B-Class / Score 440>
Princess 'Cherina' <Rank 379 / B-Class / Score 392>
Singer 'Persephone' <Rank 367 / C-Class / Score 3540>
Secretary 'Shaz' <Rank 834 / D-Class / Score 220>
Priest 'Endymion' <Rank 898 / D-Class / Score 0>
Currently, Belsus was ranked 319th among the continent's Hunters, and placed 4th among the main characters.
The gap between him and the top three was intimidatingly vast, but...
I can't let myself get discouraged now. That won't accomplish anything.
For the record, my personal ranking, which I could look up separately, was as follows:
<Rank: “It’s Faster to Count from the Bottom, You Idiot” / F-Class>
...I decided it was best not to dwell on that.
Staring at the report card, I idly swiped the yellow status window over to the chatroom. The final message was from 8:00 PM the previous evening. It was just this:
[Paladin]: Currently in closed-door training.
[Thief]: Good luck!
Activity in the chatroom had plummeted ever since the first scheduled dungeon raid.
The Thief, our self-appointed mood-maker and ringleader, had tried to revive the chat with overly enthusiastic chatter, but conversations inevitably fizzled out after just a few lines. It felt exactly like the awkward silence in a room right before a dying party finally disperses.
Looking at the desolate chat, I found myself nodding in understanding.
Ah, everyone has finally had their wake-up call.
This wasn't some social club meant for making friends.
Initially, I had expected everyone to engage in psychological warfare, spreading misinformation and deceiving each other. Seeing them chatting so amiably back then had honestly left me feeling a bit alienated.
During that first dungeon, I had been too busy playing a deadly game of tag with Calain to observe how the other Transmigrators fought.
However, Belsus had been there. When we reunited after the raid, I had indirectly asked him how the other Hunters performed.
"They were all trying their best."
A one-sentence summary. In other words, they had been an absolute disorganized mess.
The soft-hearted Belsus had delivered this assessment carefully and without blinking an eye, but I didn't even need to see it to know exactly what had happened.
Prior to entering that first major dungeon, the Transmigrators had probably only hunted trivial mobs in minor dungeons. Since a monster's physical size was generally proportional to its strength, massive creatures like Boss Monsters were exceedingly rare in standard runs.
So, when they suddenly found themselves face-to-face with a terrifying beast the size of a five-story building for the first time in their lives, it was only natural that they’d freeze in sheer terror.
Transmigrating into a game didn't magically grant you immunity to mortal fear.
They must have been profoundly humiliated when they realized just how severely lacking they were in that moment.
But they bounced back and pulled themselves together way too fast...
Just how much stronger would the other Transmigrators be the next time our paths crossed? I was the only one completely incapable of combat.
Fortunately, because Belsus secured the boss kill in that first scheduled dungeon, he managed to shed his "early-game trash" reputation and break into the middle tier of rankings.
But here's the underlying problem. Belsus completely lacks ambition.
If he simply lived out the rest of his days as a boarder on my farm and died here, Belsus would probably be perfectly content.
Wait a minute, wasn't he going to get married someday? Was he planning to set up his marital home on my farm, too?! I briefly visualized Belsus bringing home a beautiful bride and living happily ever after in my farm's annex. The immediate urge to kick him out flared up inside me. I'd evict them both.
Belsus was pushing thirty. While that was still the prime of youth from my modern perspective, within the medieval-esque setting of this game, it wouldn't be strange for him to already have three kids by now.
The original game's storyline never officially introduced a spouse for him, but assuming he eventually ascended as the new king, he would naturally need to marry and produce an heir.
The last descendant of a fallen royal bloodline, unrecognized and unrespected by the world.
You could say Belsus is a character defined by the stark contrast between his grandiose lineage and his incredibly humble desires.
For many protagonists, the primary driving force is misfortune. However, the nature of that misfortune varies. The core motivations pushing Belsus forward were simple: hunger and discomfort.
He was a character who only moved to alleviate his immediate starvation and suffering. Furthermore, because his status as a wanted fugitive often brought harm to the innocent people around him, he was forced to desperately claw his way to the top.
Even in the original storyline, he only grew stronger as a byproduct of trying to survive crisis after crisis. He happened to stumble upon the secret needed to overthrow the current dynasty. He happened to grow powerful along the way. And he happened to end up challenging the Tower.
In short, he was a man who accidentally became a hero just by trying to protect himself and his inner circle.
But if his stomach was full and he wasn't causing trouble for anyone else... his core motivation to move forward completely vanished.
The Demihaad Kingdom wasn't suffering from any particular famine, nor was the current king an overt tyrant, meaning Belsus lacked any innate sense of duty to reclaim the throne. He also completely lacked the vindictiveness to seek personal revenge against the Royal Knights who constantly hounded him.
I mean, Calain nearly killed him on multiple occasions, but ever since he moved into my farm, it's like he's forgotten Calain even exists.
He didn't even possess a baseline selfish desire for luxury or a better life.
This was going to be a huge problem. Especially while he was in this blissfully complacent state.
I admit, I was the one who intentionally derailed Belsus from his original storyline.
How could I steer him back onto a path that matched the original game's growth curve? And, more importantly, how could I achieve that without subjecting Belsus to immense suffering?
What’s the play here? How do I ignite a fighting spirit within Belsus, while simultaneously leveling myself up so I can provide him with even better resources?
Even as my mind raced endlessly, my hands moved diligently. Before I knew it, I was putting the finishing touches on Belsus's packed lunch.
I carefully packed the freshly cooked food into an expensive, lacquered wooden tiered bento box I had purchased.
I placed the egg rolls into the bottom brown tier, closed the lid, stacked another tier on top, neatly arranged the cutlets, closed the lid, stacked another tier on top, packed in bread and a vegetable stir-fry that tasted great even when cold...
Lost in a trance, I kept stacking the boxes higher and higher. I only snapped back to reality when I had to literally look up at the towering stack of lunch boxes resting on the kitchen counter, realizing it was now taller than I was.
This... might be a bit too much food.
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