Chastity-Reversed Hard Mode: Surviving as a Steel-Minded Adventurer in Another World - Chapter 01: Enduring a Female Adventurer’s Harassment with a Steel Mind

Chapter 01: Enduring a Female Adventurer’s Harassment with a Steel Mind

The guild was packed with adventurers returning from their quests, the place alive with noise and activity.

I kept my head down, pulling a cart loaded with spoils, and slipped into the line at the counter.

The faster I got my payout, the less chance I had of being bothered by anyone.

“Heyyy, Yuji! Back from a hunt?”

…And of course, the last person I wanted to deal with spotted me anyway.

I sighed—silently—as she strode right up without a hint of restraint, leaning over to peek at my haul.

“What’d you bag today? Let me see the dumb beast that let a man take it down. …Pfft, a Big-Horned Rabbit, huh? Figures. That’s about all a solo guy like you could manage!”

Irene.

Always wearing that infuriatingly smug grin.

She’d joined this Adventurers’ Guild about a month after I did, technically making us “peers.”

She looked like the type of sporty, cheerful girl everyone liked—but from day one, she’d been nothing but a pain.

“Men shouldn’t be adventurers! Go home and change diapers or something!”

That had been her “friendly” greeting when we first met.

Half a year had passed since then.

Now Irene had a solid party backing her up, her rank had climbed fast, and she was speeding down the road to success.

Me?

I’d only just reached the point where I could take down a few Big-Horned Rabbits a day—one of the weakest monsters out there.

No one wanted to partner with a man who couldn’t fight, so I trudged on alone…

…the perfect picture of a bottom-tier adventurer.

While Irene shot up the ranks, leaving me stuck with my daily grind of picking herbs and cleaning sewers—the kind of work even bottom-rung adventurers could manage—I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little left behind.

Still, I figured once she moved up in the world, she’d stop wasting her time on someone like me.

That thought had been a small comfort.

…Except, six months later, she was still as obnoxiously persistent as ever.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, Yuji—you’ve got no talent. Quit being an adventurer already and go be a maid or something. Actually, I might even hire you myself!”

I let out a quiet sigh and shot her a frosty glare.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Irene. You just barely scraped into Bronze rank. Maybe wait until you’re actually mansion-owner rich before you start talking about hiring servants.”

“Tch. Mouthy little brat. Acting all high and mighty for a man…”

Irene clicked her tongue, her bright red ponytail swishing as she huffed.

The faint sound of her silky hair brushing together reached my ears, along with the sweet, sweaty scent of someone fresh from the field. I quickly turned my face away, careful not to let a single hint of reaction show.

“Huh? What’s that, Yuji? You hate talking to me that much?”

“Haha! More like he doesn’t feel like inhaling the lovely stench of a sweaty girl fresh off a quest. Men are delicate, you know. A proper lady should at least wear perfume before striking up a chat with a gentleman.”

One of her party members gave Irene a sly elbow to the side.

Irene’s face went scarlet in an instant.

“Shut up!” she snapped, stomping off with big, angry strides.

…Oh.

And now she’s sneaking a sniff under her arm. Classic.

I gave a polite nod to the mage who’d teased her—a woman a little older than Irene by the looks of it. She just winked at me playfully before jogging after her hot-headed friend.

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“Good work today, Sir Yuji.”

The guild receptionist, a bespectacled man with a calm demeanor, greeted me as he processed my payment and updated my adventurer’s logbook. His name was Wes.

Among the lineup of flashy, handsome male staffers here, Wes stood out for being… well, plain.

Women didn’t fawn over him, but I got along with him just fine.

What I liked most?

He didn’t discriminate.

In this world of dark elves, dwarves, and every other race under the sun, I hadn’t expected to run into receptionists who openly sneered at me for having “too yellow” skin.

Honestly, some people here were worse than the real world.

“Three Big-Horned Rabbits, received. Minimal damage and properly bled. I’ll mark this as a C rating.”

“Thanks.”

A C rating basically meant I’d done the job as requested.

If I’d gone above and beyond, I might’ve earned a B or even an A.

Botch the delivery, damage the goods, or ditch the quest entirely? Expect a lower score.

The Big-Horned Rabbit—a common monster around here, and the ideal target for rookie solo adventurers like me.

Despite being nothing more than a mutated rabbit, it’s absurdly aggressive. At least I never have to chase them—they usually come charging straight at you. And no matter how many you hunt, they just keep breeding like crazy, so the population never drops.

Naturally, the reward is as low as you’d expect.

Still, taking down just one a day covers my bread for the day, and since they’re about the size of a medium dog, the meat keeps me fed too.

The downside? Those sharp horns.

Let your guard down, and they’ll skewer you clean through. If they puncture my leather armor, that’s a loss I can’t afford.

It took me ages to get good at hunting them consistently.

After receiving my payment, I carefully tucked the silver coins into my pocket, returned the rented cart, and stored my spear, leather armor, and boots in the guild’s warehouse. Then I changed into my plain clothes and left.

Why not keep my gear at the inn?

Because it’d get stolen, that’s why.

This world’s sense of morality? Utter trash.

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“Ahhh!”

I bit into a juicy skewer of grilled meat and chased it down with a gulp of hot ale. Pure bliss.

Moments like this made life worth living.

The tavern was a favorite among adventurers.

After leaving the guild, I’d grabbed some dinner from a closing food stall and headed straight here—my go-to spot to unwind.

This “tavern” wasn’t like a Japanese izakaya or some trendy bar—it was more like a Western-style pub.

Basically, a place that served food and booze.

Nobody cared if you brought in food from outside. As long as you ordered a drink, the staff looked the other way.

Sometimes they’d toss out a casual, “Hey, today’s stew turned out great, order it!”—but that was about as pushy as they got.

For the record, I’d been a fully-fledged college student back in Japan, well over the legal drinking age, so ordering ale here was perfectly fine.

Not that anyone in this world cared.

Even kids drank here.

Honestly, they should—in a world where the water might actually kill you, beer’s the safer bet.

Ahh… I miss Japan.

Being able to drink tap water without dying? Absolute luxury.

Though, to be fair, Japan’s the oddball—most Western and East Asian countries already think you’re crazy if you drink straight from the tap.

And, as usual, I was eating alone.

Around me, drunk female adventurers were roaring with laughter, yelling “Drink! Drink!” and causing enough chaos to make even the wildest Japanese college clubs look tame.

The biggest difference from modern Japan?

The near-total lack of men.

Sure, here and there you’d spot a guy quietly nursing his drink—but right beside him, there’d always be a female adventurer glaring at the room like a guard dog.

Her eyes practically screamed, This one’s mine. Touch him and die.

I mean, the adventurers here are something else.

You’ve got people with tattoos covering half their faces, others with sword scars slashed clean across their eyes, and swordswomen so jacked their arms are three times the size of mine.

And the kicker?

Biologically, they’re all women.

Seriously, what are they eating to end up like that?

I guess the answer’s obvious: magic.

That mysterious power everyone in this world has changes everything.

You can feel it—this overwhelming presence that strong people give off.

The guys who somehow manage to get into those elite parties? They’re not ordinary either. There’s this unmistakable aura about them that screams different league entirely.

I’ve only just started learning how to sense other people’s magic myself, but when I do… the gap between me and them is painfully obvious.

As for mages? If a man’s lucky enough to be born with magical talent, he can actually hold his own—maybe even surpass women in raw power.

I was mulling over those depressing thoughts, quietly sipping my drink, when—

“Hey, Eugene! Get over here and pour me a drink!”

A booming, drunken voice cut through the noise, accompanied by a tankard waving wildly in the air.

The owner of that voice?

Ursna—a scout (thief-type adventurer) in her early twenties, about my age.

If she’d been a foreign exchange student in modern Japan, guys would’ve been tripping over themselves for her. Refined features, long blonde hair in tidy braids—she had that look of someone who’d post perfectly staged Instagram pics with sparkly captions.

Here? Not so much.

She spent her nights yelling about how she “can’t get a man in this damn world!” while chugging booze until she passed out—and more often than not, threw up in her sleep.

That’s life in a society with a low male birth rate—too many women, not enough men.

And when you’re an adventurer living a dangerous, thuggish lifestyle?

Yeah… men aren’t exactly lining up for you.

“No thanks. I’m not some tavern waiter getting paid to serve drinks. I’m just trying to enjoy my dinner in peace—so could you leave me alone?”

“What was that?! You ignoring your senior’s orders?! Do you have any idea how much I looked after you six months ago?!”

“Don’t really recall being ‘looked after’ that much. And if I had to repay every single person who ever did me a favor in this guild, I’d probably be somebody’s meat slave by now.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I immediately winced.

Ursna’s lips curled into a sleazy grin as she gave me a heated, almost hungry look.

“Ohhh? Eugene, are you… inviting me? Ghehehe…”

“I am not. And for the last time, my name’s Yuji. Maybe try remembering someone’s actual name before you start flirting with them.”

My full name is Yuji Ojima—a name that practically screams masculinity in Japanese. My parents gave it to me hoping I’d grow up strong and manly.

Unfortunately, in this world, “man” translates to “fragile little weakling,” so my name might as well mean Delicate Little Wimp.

And to make things worse, nobody here can even pronounce “Yuji” properly.

It gets butchered into Yujii, Eugene, or—god help me—U.G.

What even is U.G.? At least call me something that sounds like a person, not a brand of fertilizer.

“Lay off, Ursna. Eugene here’s just playing the untouchable flower—thinks he’s too good for sloppy drunks like you.”

“…The hell did you just say?”

One of her party members, clearly amused, threw in a teasing jab.

Ursna’s response? A low, irritated growl, her golden braids trembling with barely contained anger.

“Untouchable flower, huh?! I’ll have you know I’m the illegitimate child of the neighboring kingdom’s royal family! If this were a different era, I’d be a freaking princess, you hear?! You think I’m lacking anything?!”

“Yeah, yeah, here we go again. What kind of ‘princess’ acts like a street thug, huh?”

“Oh, is that so? Then feast your eyes! Behold—the princess’s royal treasures!”

With that, Ursna yanked up her shirt and, without a shred of hesitation, ripped off her bra.

Boing!

Her generous chest bounced free, pale skin and soft pink tips on full display.

…Gulp.

I swallowed hard, my eyes instinctively locking on before I ripped them away and blurted out, squirming in my seat,

“Y-YOU IDIOT! What the hell are you flashing that for, you shameless lunatic?!”

“Gahahaha! Bow before the Royal Boobs!”

Apparently delighted by my oh-so-obvious virgin reaction, Ursna erupted into roaring laughter, guzzling her ale with pride—still topless.

[And now, for cultural context:

In our world, this would be the equivalent of a rowdy thug adventurer whipping out his junk to tease an innocent rookie girl.]

“Hey, Ursna! Don’t you dare flash that filth in my tavern! Put ‘em away unless you wanna be banned for life!”

“Ugh… s-sorry, ma’am…”

Chastised by the furious tavern owner, Ursna hastily yanked her clothes back on and slumped into her seat.

I let out the deepest, heaviest sigh of the day and slammed my tankard down on the table.

“YOU FREAKIN’ IDIOT!!”

The tavern went dead silent.

A heavy, uncomfortable air settled over the room.

I almost never raised my voice like that. Sure, I tossed out plenty of snark and sarcasm, but outright yelling? Practically unheard of.

“…Uh, Eugene’s actually pissed. What do we do, Ursna?”

“I-I didn’t think he’d blow up this bad…”

Hearing her whisper nervously to her party, I shot her a glare sharp enough to cut steel and, in my head, screamed again:

You absolute moron!!

Why the hell are you whipping out your boobs in the middle of a tavern?!

Stuff like that—you’re supposed to do it when we’re alone, cheeks red, looking away all shy-like! Do that, and sure, I’d happily play along!!

But no, you go full-blown exhibitionist!

I’m a delicate, herbivore-type guy over here! If you’re gonna hunt men, at least act cute about it!

Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to keep up this whole “untouchable high-class flower” image while you’re out here harassing me like this?!

One wrong move—one little smirk or wandering hand—and by tomorrow, I’ll be branded “guild manwhore” and turned into the communal plaything!

An out-of-control harem isn’t a dream—it’s a feeding frenzy for horny hyenas!!

…But still.

Thank you for the boobs.

I’ll treasure them forever in the secret treasure chest of my memory.

Much gratitude to the self-proclaimed princess for the royal boob reveal~~!!

“H-Hey… I’m sorry, Eugene.”

Ursna’s voice reached me—her drunken haze gone, replaced by genuine remorse as she looked at me trembling with rage.

I let out an exaggerated sigh, turned on my heel, and stood up.

“…Forget it.”

Then, with the flawless expression of a flustered maiden who’d just had a man whip it out in front of her, I retreated upstairs to the inn portion of the tavern.

Man… what a win.

Sure, this world’s a trash heap—women on top, men treated like property, rigid class divides, filthy streets, roaming monsters… pure hell on hard mode.

But every now and then, you get a little “lucky perv bonus” like this… and suddenly, it doesn’t seem so bad.