The Strongest Adventurers’ Mental Caretaker ~ Somehow I Ended Up Involved with Every Beautiful Girl in the Hero’s Party ~ If You Have Time to Fight Over Me, Please Go Save the World - 1

Chapter 1: The Morning of a Charming Playboy

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A languid morning sun filtered into the inn room within the royal capital. A stifling, sweet lingering scent and a dampness that spoke eloquently of an intimate encounter between a man and a woman drifted through the air.

“Nn… Cain-san…”

Atop the disheveled sheets, a young girl let out a blissful, sleeping breath.

She was the poster girl of a bakery well-reputed in the neighborhood. Though normally energetic and amiable, she was now curled up like a newborn kitten, sleeping like a log with her cheeks flushed cinnabar. Upon her smooth, porcelain-like skin, several faint, cherry-blossom-colored marks bloomed, bearing witness to the fierce battle of the previous night.

(Good grief, perhaps I overdid it a little last night.)

I—Cain Raymond—had already finished getting dressed and was straightening my collar in front of the mirror. Reflected in the glass was a black-haired young man who looked like he could be found anywhere. However, his eyes were coldly serene, as if reflecting a merciless world.

Stepping quietly toward the bed so as not to make a sound, I placed a small vial by her pillow.

It was the highest-grade rose oil, sourced through connections in the red-light district. It was a luxury item well beyond the reach of her wages, but it was a cheap price to pay as compensation for last night.

I did not exchange money directly. That would turn it into a business transaction. To the very end, we had to maintain a relationship of nothing more than two people who shared a single night’s dream.

“Nnngh… I… love you…”

The girl reached out her hand in her half-awake state, but I did not grasp it back. Instead, I gently ran my fingers through her bangs and whispered into her ear.

“Sweet dreams.”

Leaving only those words behind, I exited the room. If she woke up, she would likely try to bind me with passionate words. That kind of emotional weight would only get in the way of my lifestyle. I was bound by no one. I simply wanted to live peacefully and freely. That was the way of life for someone like me, who had been abandoned as an orphan in the red-light district and had lived as a male prostitute catering to courtesans in a high-class brothel. 

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In a back alley of the royal capital, where the sun never shone, stood a quiet, weathered old shop. Phantom Dragon Hall. That was my castle. Though the sign outside proclaimed it to be an “Adventurer Supply Shop,” the purpose of the customers who visited this place was a little different.

“Oh, Good morning, Shopkeeper. Your skin is exceptionally glowing today as well.”

“Good morning, Madame. You yourself have changed your hairstyle, haven’t you? It suits you beautifully.”

“Oh my, aren’t you a sharp observer!”

Arriving right as the shop opened was the wife of a local draper. Displaying an amiable smile, I took her hand and escorted her toward the product shelves.

“Lately, my husband has been coming home late…”

“That must be lonely for you. However, I am certain it is not because your husband has forgotten your charms, Madame. …For instance, take this potion. It is originally a wound medicine, but it contains a minute amount of magic energy. It has quite a reputation that if you dilute it and apply it to your skin, you can reclaim the radiance from ten years ago.”

“My! Is that true?”

“Yes. The red of this potion reflects beautifully in those deep blue eyes of yours.”

As I softly slipped the vial into her hand and intertwined our fingers, the Madame blushed and made an instant decision, saying, “I’ll take it.”

Although it carried a price tag three times the market value, she opened her purse with a satisfied look. What I was selling was not a potion. It was the confidence that “I am still viable as a woman,” and the heart-fluttering excitement of being wooed by a young man.

(The initial costs are next to nothing, and the profit margin is high. …This is exactly why I can’t quit this business.)

Just as I was sticking my tongue out in my mind and preparing to tend to the next customer, it happened.

BAM!!

Suddenly, the shop door flew open with such force that it looked as though it had been kicked down. The doorbells let out a sound like a shriek and fell to the floor, clattering away.

“…?!”

The female customers inside the shop shrieked and retreated against the wall. And for good reason. The air that rushed in the moment the door opened was entirely anomalous. A murderous intent sharp enough to prick the skin. The scent of blood and iron. Standing there were living legends, individuals known to anyone who belonged to this country.

“…This is the place.”

Standing at the forefront was a black-haired beauty clad in jet-black armor. It was Freya Varner, the leader of the kingdom’s strongest S-rank party, “Valkyrie,” and a hero. Positioned behind her were Aeris, a silver knight whose ice-like expression never wavered, and Luminara, a mage who wore her hood pulled deep over her eyes.

They were beautiful. True to the rumors, they were a gathering of beauties who looked as if they had stepped right out of a painting. However, my professional instinct was ringing alarm bells.

(…What is with this atmosphere?)

Even though they were supposed to be formed as a party, absolutely no trust could be felt among them. Rather, a tense, hostile aura drifted about them, to the extent that it felt as though they might stab an ally from behind at any given moment.

The hero had dark circles under her eyes, the knight kept clicking the hilt of her sword in irritation, and the mage was going so far as to appraise the merchandise in the shop with hollow eyes. Evidently, these were no ordinary customers.

“W-Welcome…?”

When I called out with a cramped smile, the hero Freya glared sharply at me and stomped her way over to the counter. Then, slamming her hands onto the counter, she looked up at me with a glare that felt as though she wanted to devour me alive.

“Recovery potions. Give me every single one you have.”

Her voice was trembling. Whether it was from fatigue, anger, or loneliness stretched to its absolute limit—I could not tell.

(Ugh, I want absolutely nothing to do with this…)

Contrary to my desires, my peaceful daily life was quietly slipping away into the distance…

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