Chastity-Reversed Hard Mode: Surviving as a Steel-Minded Adventurer in Another World - Chapter 09: Testing Out My New Cheat with a Steel Mentality

Chapter 09: Testing Out My New Cheat with a Steel Mentality

“Hey, Wes, I think my mana went up. Can you appraise it for me?”

“…Hah.”

The next day, I dropped by the Adventurers’ Guild, only to get a long, tired sigh in response.

What’s with that deadpan reaction?

Wes exhaled again, this time even more exaggerated, and shot me a withering look.

“Sir Yuji, listen carefully. The amount of mana a person has is decided at birth. It never increases afterward.”

“But mine really did go up.”

“I’m telling you, that’s impossible. If training could increase mana, the entire social order would collapse. Nobles are nobles precisely because they’re born with an enormous amount of mana. People even say mana is passed down through bloodlines. There’s simply no way it could rise later in life.”

Huh, so that’s how it worked.

Well, yeah… just having mana boosts your physical abilities by a huge margin. Of course someone with tons of it would be treated as special.

“Still, mine really did increase, though.”

“…Were you even listening?”

Another heavy sigh. Wes shook his head slowly.

“Even if it had increased, Sir Yuji, how exactly did you know that?”

Ah—he had to go and ask that.

I couldn’t exactly say, Oh yeah, I bought some last night from the Cheat Vending Machine.

I mean, what was I supposed to tell him?

That god rewarded me with coins because the women of this city have used me ten thousand times as their personal fap material, so I spent the prize money on buying mana.

Yeah. No matter how you slice it, anyone hearing that would assume I’d lost my mind.

If our roles were reversed, I sure as hell wouldn’t believe it either.

“…Gut feeling?”

“…”

I mumbled out my excuse while shifting my eyes all over the place, but Wes’s sharp white glare pinned me in place.

With yet another sigh—the third one by now—he slipped off his glasses and began polishing them with a cloth.

“…Fine. But it’ll cost you ten silver coins. Appraisals aren’t free, you know.”

“Sweet! Deal!”

Man, Wes really got it!

Though, honestly, he was the only receptionist who still put up with me. All the others flat-out hated my guts. Every time I walked up to the counter, they’d grimace right to my face. Pretty sure that’s not professional, gentlemen. Discrimination’s not a good look, okay?

≪Explanation Time!

His unpopularity with the male staff has nothing to do with racial prejudice!

Think of it like this: imagine a stunning young bombshell suddenly joins your office. Then the CEO declares, “Whoever performs the best will get to marry her.” Naturally, all the guys start drooling and going berserk. Now, how do you think the women who’ve been there for years would feel?

Exactly—that’s the kind of vibe we’re talking about here!≫

I placed my hand on the crystal ball, and just like before, weird text began floating up. Still couldn’t read a damn thing. Maybe next time I got some coins, I should buy the “Otherworld Language” skill. Though, yeah… I still had no idea how to actually earn coins on a regular basis.

As I was mulling that over, waiting for Wes to translate, he suddenly froze—eyes wide, jaw hanging open.

“U…Unbelievable! Your mana really has increased!”

Oh hell yeah, nailed it!

I mean, of course it had—since I’d literally bought a cheat for it. But hearing a native lose his mind like that? That thrill was half the fun of cheats in the first place.

“No way… How could this even be possible!?”

“So, so? What’s my mana value then?”

If my mana was weird, that had to mean it was insanely high, right?

Like, demon-tier—maybe 30? Or wait, could it even be 100? Sorry, sorry, too OP for this world!

“Ah… the number is 1.”

“…One.”

“That’s actually the lowest possible value.”

“…Lowest.”

I crumpled right there on the spot.

Ahh, I get it now! Of course demons have individual differences! Naturally, the theoretical minimum for demons is one! And hey, humans or demons—lowest is still one! No difference whatsoever!

Yeah, I’d been totally scammed! Bravo, catalog, bravo! Hahaha—

No seriously, screw you, scam catalog!

“Um… Sir Yuji, are you… crying?”

“Leave me alone. I just wasted half a year of my life…”

I pounded the floor again and again, tears gushing like a broken faucet, while Wes stared at me with that awkward “what do I even say here” face.

Failed failed failed failed failed.

If I could send a message back to yesterday’s me, I’d scream: Never trust that scam catalog’s sales pitch!

“Confidently recommended”? More like 100% malicious intent! What kind of isekai has the cheat-granting god actively trying to screw you over!? This was way too hard-mode.

As I lay there crushed, Wes suddenly leaned forward over the counter, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“This is incredible, Sir Yuji! You went from zero mana to one!”

“That’s literally just a +1 increase.”

“You don’t get it—going from nothing to something is a huge deal!”

…No, it’s fine, Wes. You don’t have to force the pep talk.

“By the way, how much mana does a Big-Horned Rabbit have?”

“Let’s see… about twenty, I think?”

“Cool! That makes me the trash-tier human with only five percent of a rabbit’s mana!”

Wait, even a rabbit that doesn’t even use magic has twenty?

…Yeah, fine. Whatever.

“Alright then.”

After bawling my eyes out and finally feeling refreshed, I pulled myself back to my feet. Looked like I had some experiments to run. Really glad I’d grabbed that extra skill yesterday.

Wes was watching me with this twitchy look, but thanks to my busted empathy stat, I couldn’t even begin to read what he was feeling.

“Anyway, I’m heading out to hunt for a bit.”

“Ah, wait! You’re not going to tell me how you boosted your mana, are you?”

“Nope, that’s a secret.”

I mean, I could tell him… but that’d mean explaining I got rewarded for being used ten thousand times as fap material. No way anyone would buy that.

“I see… So it’s not something you can casually reveal to others, huh?”

Wes’s glasses gleamed as he nodded knowingly.

He probably thought I’d mastered some kind of ancient, forbidden ritual.

Reality check: I just got spammed by ten thousand horny women.

But hey—if his misunderstanding keeps him satisfied, that works for me.

“By the way, it seems your Gifts have also increased… What exactly are these—[Influencer] and [Demon Breeding Rights]?”

“That’s what I wanna know!”

Yeah, hearing Demon Breeding Rights spoken out loud in broad daylight at the guild counter was way too absurd.

Still, since it came up, might as well check the details.

“…Apparently it’s the right to safely make kids with demons. Hey, Wes, do you even know what demons are? I’m guessing they’re some kind of monster species.”

“No, I must admit I’ve never heard of them.”

Wes tilted his head, looking genuinely puzzled.

“At the very least, no such monster exists anywhere in this Naroppa region. Our empire’s territory even stretches eastward into the Indispice lands, yet there have been no sightings there either. Perhaps they dwell in the southern Dark Continent, or deep within the unexplored lands across the western sea…”

“Huh, interesting.”

So they were basically a super rare race.

Which meant my chances of ever meeting one were practically zero.

Honestly, that was a relief. Running into a species that spreads curses just by having sex sounded like a total nightmare.

This world really was set to Hard Mode, wasn’t it?

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Brishav Island was completely overrun with rabbits.

And not your average fluffy bunnies either—oh no. This place had Big-Horned Rabbits with massive antlers, Sleep Rabbits that could knock you out with drowsy spells, White Rabbits sprinting around on two legs clutching pocket watches, and even March Rabbits whose maniacal laughter could shred your sanity just by hearing it. The island was basically a bunny theme park straight out of hell.

When I went on a picnic with Wes, he explained the backstory.

Originally, the island didn’t even have that many rabbits—certainly not this many monster variants.

But then, ages ago, the hunting culture from the Naroppa mainland spread here. Deer hunting became the noble pastime of choice. The aristocrats, hyped up on “super exciting extreme sports,” went at it like maniacs. “One more round of hunting?” Yeah, sure—until they nearly hunted the island’s deer population into extinction. Calm down, you lunatics!

With the deer gone, they needed new prey. Their next target? Foxes. Smaller than deer, less risk of counterattacks, and fast enough to make the chase exciting. Not quite as thrilling as deer, but still fun. Too fun, apparently—because they wiped out the foxes too.

And once the foxes disappeared? Nature did its thing. With no predators left, the rabbits multiplied like… well, rabbits. They spread across the island, stripped the fields bare, and then swarmed into villages to ravage the crops.

Things got so bad, the towns and villages had no choice but to wall themselves off just to survive against the endless rabbit hordes.

It could’ve stopped there, but nope.

According to Wes, this world had a kind of “monster evolution rule.” Basically, if one species overpopulated too much in a region, monsters would eventually start spawning from them.

So regular rabbits started giving birth to freakishly big, aggressive ones. Then, generation after generation, they just kept evolving—growing larger, sprouting massive horns as natural weapons. And thus, the Big-Horned Rabbit was born.

That strain turned out to be the most stable, and before long they completely replaced the normal bunnies. Brishav Island had officially transformed into the Rabbit Kingdom we know today.

When I first heard that story, I couldn’t help blurting, “Man, nobles really don’t do a single good thing, huh.”

Wes immediately clapped a hand over my mouth, his face pale. Good thing we were out on a picnic—if I’d said that back in town, who knows what kind of trouble I’d have stirred up.

…Though, come to think of it, Wes himself was technically nobility.

The one silver lining for humanity was that Big-Horned Rabbits, despite their terrifying appearance, were actually weaklings in combat. Sure, they had insane fertility, no mating season, and bottomless appetites—but exterminating them wasn’t that difficult. Even regular folks could pull it off.

Which meant… even bottom-rung adventurers like me.

I crouched behind a tree whose bark had been gnawed down to nothing, keeping a close eye on the Big-Horned Rabbit.

It was about the size of a wild boar, happily munching away on the poor little weeds that had just started to grow back. Honestly, the way it twitched its nose now and then was kinda cute… but don’t be fooled. The moment it spotted a human, that thing would get all riled up and charge headfirst. A super-aggressive monster in a bunny’s body—definitely not something to underestimate.

I’d already messed up against them a few times, ending up with holes in both my leather armor and my body.

Sure, a hole in me was fixable—just pour a potion straight into the wound. Hurt like hell, but I’d live.

But a hole in armor? That was expensive. I still hadn’t managed to repair mine, so right now I was running around in gear full of holes. Sooner or later it was gonna split wide open, but with no money in my pocket, what could I do?

Well… maybe today would change everything. If this worked, my hunting efficiency was about to skyrocket.

With that thought, I tightened my grip on the handle of the magic item.

Normally, I fought with a spear and shield. But this time, instead of a spear, I was gripping a short baton.

Its name? Shock Baton. A leftover relic abandoned in the guild’s storage by some senior adventurer who’d gone missing ages ago.

It could release an electric shock, but it wasn’t lethal. Nowhere near enough to actually kill a Big-Horned Rabbit. At best, it just startled them and froze their movements for a moment. For regular people, one zap would leave them twitching on the ground, muscles locked up for a while—but no permanent damage. Apparently, some men even carried them around as “anti-pervert protection.” Basically, yeah… a fantasy-world stun gun.

Even so, for me it was something I really wanted to try out.

Come on—it’s a magic item! Using one at least once in another world is every isekai fan’s dream, right?

…That said, magic items were ridiculously inconvenient if you couldn’t activate them.

This world had even invented flashlight-like magic tools, but since I’d been stuck at zero mana until now, I couldn’t even turn them on.

By the way, the power of an item wasn’t tied to the user’s mana.

Even garbage-tier humans like me, with a measly mana of 1, could still get the full shock output—as long as they could activate it.

So in short, mana 1 was basically like the minimum grip strength needed to flick on a flashlight.

…And saying it out loud like that honestly made me want to cry.

Alright, time to get this fight started.

Still hidden in the shade of the tree, I aimed the tip of the Shock Baton at the Big-Horned Rabbit and, just like Wes had taught me, willed it to activate.

And then—after all those times it had stubbornly refused—the baton finally roared to life, spitting out a bolt of electricity straight toward the rabbit. The air sizzled, dust motes burned away, and that sharp ozone smell stung my nose.

…Ohhh yes, this was perfect! Finally—this was what magic was supposed to feel like! I’d come to another world just to use stuff like this!

“Piiiii!?”

The Big-Horned Rabbit shrieked, its body jerking from the shock.

Yep, just as advertised—it only startled it a little.

The rabbit glanced around wildly, then—uh oh—its blood-red eyes locked right onto my hiding spot. Busted.

With fury blazing in its gaze, it stomped the ground with its hind legs—charging signal engaged.

I quickly raised my shield in my left hand and tightened my grip on the Shock Baton.

Now came the real test…!

I fixed my eyes squarely on the rabbit and shouted:

“[Influencer]—[Mana]!”

The Big-Horned Rabbit’s body suddenly buckled. With a loud thud, it collapsed flat against the ground.

“Gii!? Gii!?”

It flailed, desperately trying to push itself up, but no matter how hard it struggled, its body wouldn’t obey. All it could do was stare at me, trembling helplessly.

“Fwahaha… welcome to the other side. This is the world of mana-1 trash tier!”

Just as I suspected.

In this world, mana directly tied into strength and defense. Living creatures subconsciously used it just to move their bodies. So what happened when I forced them into the pitiful state of “mana = 1”?

The answer was right in front of me: the rabbit lost control of its body, stumbling like a broken puppet.

If the enemy was strong, I just had to drag them down to my pathetic level. Easy fix. …Though saying that out loud made me feel even sadder about myself. Still, debuffs really were the king of tactics.

“Well then… time for the main experiment.”

I aimed the Shock Baton and fired another jolt at the now mana-1 Big-Horned Rabbit—

―ZAP!!

…

The stench of charred flesh filled the air.

I stood frozen, staring at the rabbit’s blackened corpse. Its fur had been seared away, exposing skin etched with branching lightning scars. I remembered seeing something like this in online news—survivors of real-life lightning strikes marked with jagged, tree-like patterns across their bodies.

This rabbit, though, hadn’t survived.

If anything, its one small mercy was that death had come instantly, without suffering.

Its tongue lolled from its mouth, hanging limp, the flesh scorched black.

I clutched a hand over my mouth and dropped to a crouch.

My stomach churned violently, tears welling at the corners of my eyes.

Because that rabbit… that rabbit was me.

I saw my own death in its fate.

A being with mana 1—just taking a stun-level spell was enough to end up like that.

If I ever ran into a monster that could actually use magic, no matter what spell it was, I’d die the exact same way.

For six months, I’d been hunting Big-Horned Rabbits, telling myself I was growing, that I was inching closer to being a proper adventurer.

But… growth? What a joke. The only reason I’d managed to stay alive this long was sheer luck. If I’d crossed paths with something like a Goblin Mage—the same ones other adventurers casually hunted—I’d have been dead on the spot.

The world of mana 1… it was a world where just brushing against magic meant instant death. Pure despair.

“…This won’t work.”

Even under the influence of [Mental Resistance], I wasn’t immune to fear. I could still make rational judgments to avoid danger.

And no matter how I looked at it, there was no way I could keep living as an adventurer. I wasn’t reckless enough—or confident enough in my combat skills—to risk playing life on “permadeath hard mode.” My story would end in no time.

The real reason I’d gotten [Influencer] was to test exactly this: what would happen if someone with mana 1—someone like me—got hit by magic.

And now I knew. One beginner-level spell, and I’d be reduced to a charred corpse.

This knowledge… it was basically the same as buying my own life.

I’d originally figured that if I reduced an enemy’s mana to 1, they wouldn’t even be able to cast magic anymore—basically turning [Influencer] into a magic-sealing skill.

But the catch was, it only worked on targets I could see.

Which meant if I ever got ambushed, or caught in a chaotic battle with spells flying in from outside my vision… yeah, I’d be toast in one hit. Way too risky.

At last, I understood the meaning behind Wes’s words from half a year ago: “I’ve never seen anyone less suited to being an adventurer than you.”

He was right. Someone who could die instantly from a single spell had no business calling themselves an adventurer.

“…Alright then, I quit adventuring!”

And just like that, I decided to retire from the adventurer life I’d clung to for six months, and set out on a brand-new path instead.