Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero: 11

Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero: 11

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Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Shaderic.

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There are two kinds of monstergirls. Those who are useful and those who are not. The latter are free to live the rest of their lives doing nothing, while the former should prepare for the day that I find them and recruit them to my cause. Nope, there’s no refusal. You are already part of my party, which is setting out to destroy the Empire, and I don’t care whether you like it or not. There are no Social Links, Bonds, or Relationship Meters here, only what you can do for me/how much you can hurt the Empire.

Do as I say and when I don’t need you, you’ll not want for anything for the rest of your probably short lives. Heck, if you survive everything, and outlive me, you’ll probably get your freedom back and keep everything I’ve given you. So, really, all you need to do as a valiant, powerful individual who has no choice with their life is to survive. Isn’t that totes easy to remember? Can’t you appreciate your life being just surviving assignments I give you? There’s no reason to worry about anything, besides doing what you’re told and surviving what I throw you at. 

There’s no need to worry about friendship, affection, and other things that give existence meaning. The world is a large, terrifying place filled with organizations that can steal you from your family and homes. War rages everywhere, people are dying in droves, and men are first regarded as sources for babies, then anything else that they can contribute. Join me, fight, and survive, so that you can at least be part of something other than the current, shitty paradigm that has taken the whole world.

If my plans continue, if I succeed, and if you survive, then you’re going to be part of the project that burned this fucked up world and forced something else to come forth from the ashes.

Hmmm, as far as intimidating, recruitment speeches go, that one’s pretty long-winded and bland, huh? Well, since Japanese High Schools are focused towards hammering down outliers and creating perfect cogs for the corporate machine, it’s to be expected that I can’t impress people into servitude with words alone. Man, it’d be great if I was charismatic, capable, and able to tell other people to do what I want. 

But, I can’t.

So, I suppose I just have to settle for hostage-taking, incredible violence, and threats of murder as always.

…

The Hellhound who led the Werewolves actually set up guards for the night, but that preparation meant nothing against a superior force that knew their exact location. Trained, veteran Amazons against feral Werewolves had only one result, even when I instructed Ur and the others to take them down without killing them for the purposes of bargaining power. In the face of overwhelming power, unless you have equal amounts of power to counter it, all you can do is lose. In this fucked up world of monsters, magic, and innate abilities, power is everything… and I was going to use it to my utmost ability.

So, I rode before the Hellhound and the camp of Werewolves with their guards on the floor with blades at their necks. 

My clothes aren’t anything special, but that’s not to say I focused on practicality. Uniforms are a way of separation. They tell those who look at you that you’re a part of something. Bosses, manages, and CEOs spend ludicrous sums on suits, because they have to reinforce their difference, even though they’re wearing the same. While my Amazons were practically wearing more artifacts that repelled magic than cloth, and my Lich was clad in a dress with a neckline so deep I accurately guess whether or not she was wearing panties, I presented myself as a lord.

I wore something more fitting for a ball, than the battlefield. A long-sleeved, white shirt beneath a patterned vest along with riding pants and boots. Typically, the male boy-toys of Roseanne’s nobility wore capes, but I told that to fuck off and asked for a coat. Not a trench coat, but just something that could keep me warm and dry. The tailor went ahead and put some fancy, gold trim on the shoulders, hem, and wrists, but tore those off and handed it back to her. All I needed to make my status clear that I was in charge was Roseanne’s emblem on my chest, which was two swords bound together by a rose… and that shit was in a box at by desk, because it was worthless in the Empire and in my territory.

The fact that I arrived onto battlefields clad in comfortable, cooling clothes with my subordinates ready to kill and threaten was all the proper presentation I wanted.

For me, this sort of thing wasn’t a fight.

It was just another day at work.

And, the Hellhound took notice of this.

The beast of a monstergirl had gray skin, furred arms, and digitigrade legs that ended in pays. Her hands didn’t end in paws, but the fur on them was sleeker and smooth… hiding wiry muscle, retractable claws, and the ability to emit hellfire. She was completely nude and hairless besides her dog-eared head and limbs, ala Reverse Swimsuit, and while the full-frontal exposure was a great illustration for some shitty, LN given the general buxomness and curvaceousness of monstergirls being amplified the rarer and more powerful they were… I focused on examine her scars and muscles beneath uniformly gray skin. 

The muscles were lean and toned, so she wasn’t a product of training in either Roseanne’s kingdom or the Empire’s slave pits, but of nature. The faint scars that she had were of jagged claws or long, sharp fangs. There were no arrow wounds or cuts made with a blade on her form. Her pitch-black eyes with golden iris, burning bright with an orange flame in the darkness, looked worriedly at the unfamiliar weapons wielded by my Amazons.

What a great find. 

I have an unclaimed Hellhound who no one knew about or was looking for.

Time to test if she’s as smart as I hoped she was and led my horse forward.

The Werewolves hissed and snarled, but I had only eyes for the Hellhound… and she barked a growl that had the rest of her pack simmer down. Her ablaze gaze shifted to her captured companions, before looking to me. I chose to say nothing, because I wasn’t going to declare myself to someone less than me, and neither was a going to have my people speak for me. 

The ball was in the Hellhound’s court. Everything that was about to happen was going to be her responsibility.

I valued her power and potential, but if her feral upbringing meant she had a feral mind, I had no use for her.

So, I waited on my horse, while never breaking my gaze from her own.

There were thoughts I couldn’t place behind the black-and-gold eyes, but even if it took her an eternity to choose what to do, she ended up choosing correctly. She lowered her head and made a bastardized attempt to kneel and beg for her follower’s lives, after a superior force found her, approached her, and wordlessly threatened to kill her people.

“I… am… leader.” She spoke haltingly and in a dialect that I supposed was somewhat similar to what Roseanne’s people spoke. I heard and spoke in Japanese, even though whoever spoke to me used their own language and heard their own language, thanks to the Empire having no qualms with messing with brains and cognition of slaves through magic. Thank goodness for evil bastards having no ethics whatsoever! I’ll be sure to kill them all mercilessly and quickly. “I am… of knowing your power.”

Decent, but not good enough for a free pass. Maybe, if I saw a dogeza and this Hellhound was actually some Isekai’s Japanese woman, I’d have just accepted her, but that wasn’t the case. This Hellhound knew enough to be tactical and learn the ways of civilized people. That was only decent, because I didn’t know if she was smart enough to know not to fight me. And, naturally, she hadn’t been smart enough to not leave a region where she knew was patrolled by Amazons. 

Another test was in order.

“You’ve trespassed into my lands, eaten my game, and wasted my time. I have come to stop that by killing you all. Am I wrong?” I didn’t want someone who’d just nod their head and comply. Roseanne had someone in my ranks who could audit my choices. If they weren’t capable, if they weren’t intelligent, then Roseanne would send their replacement my way, without a way for me to send them back. “Tell me, Hellhound, am I wrong for coming to kill you?”

My Amazons one and all inched their blades closer to the necks of their hostages. Ur probably gave them a signal, after realizing what I was going for. Or, well, maybe she though I was just being a bloodthirsty bastard. Either way, my intimidation attempt gained at least a 100% effectiveness modifier without me doing anything. Thanks for the support, Ur! You’re the best! Why do I feel like you’d hate me, if I’d said that aloud?

“Yes.” Huh, well, my estimation of this utterly nude murder machine has gone up significantly. With that answer, she didn’t hesitate, displayed understanding of power dynamics, and, most importantly, knows that I want something from her in exchange for her life. The last part didn’t come from the answer, of course, only the fact that her shoulders have slightly relaxed, her claws retracted, and the blaze surrounding her eyes have slightly faded away. “Paying… is necessary. So, it will be of doing.” 

“Good. Ur, return the werewolves to their chieftain. She’s now under my command.” Ur and the Amazons did as I commanded as one. The guards scrambled back to their tribe, hiding amongst their companions. A few growled and bared their teeth, but my veterans walked forward and brandished their weapons. It would’ve been intimidating even if their massive, fuckoff weapons didn’t shake the leaves of the trees from their simple movements. This whole ordeal would’ve definitely gone differently, if this pack somehow managed to kill one of my Amazons. Luckily, the rest of the pack was utterly worthless compared to their boss. One star, trash units suited to eat enemy attacks at best. Anyway, I removed my coat and threw it at the Hellhound. “You are now mine. You will join me, kill my enemies, and obey my commands. I will forgive your crimes and provide shelter, food, and work to you tribe. Do you understand?”

The Hellhound caught my coat. She was a freaking tall monstergirl, able to look my horse in the eye, and with most of the Werewolves under her command and my Amazons barely going past her elbow. The coat barely reached her mid-thigh and barely crested over the peaks of her mountains. If not for the ludicrously slim waistline she had, there would be no coverage of her nether region, either. But I wasn’t going for making her presentable. The coat with ragged shoulders, sleeves, and hems wasn’t a leash, but it was a permanent contract all the same. 

A contract she’ll don in front of her all her followers and my own… after I merely spoke three sentences to her. The Amazons already knew me, but this was a good chance to reinforce who I was and what I could do to Henri, my Lich. I was going to crush their beliefs in my ability and talents being mere flukes. No, I wasn’t simply lucky in my recruitment of the Lich and my tactic wasn’t effective only once. 

With the right threat, in the right setting, and with the people I WANTED to recruit… my tactics were going to work again and again. 

Nothing emphasized that more than whe the Hellhound wore the coat I gave her and barked a command at the rest of her tribe. The little, infuriating tribe that I could’ve crushed with ease were now my subordinates. Instead of killing monsters, I brought them into my cause. Two dozen Werewolves were utterly worthless in the grand scheme of things, but managing to browbeat and threaten a Hellhound, as well as hold her tribe hostage in case she got antsy? 

Right in front of another person who I just recruited?

That was priceless. 

…

The little, silver Lamia sent to constantly remind me that I had taxes to pay was waiting for me at my town’s furthest outpost. Outposts on the road, with a squad of Amazons manning them, gave my little rest stop a flexible means of surveillance and defense. I was going to augment it with my Lich’s new familiar’s, but that was going to have to wait until later. 

Ur and Henri went ahead into the town, while I trotted my horse over to my secretary/replacement. 

My Hellhound stayed by my side, after she barked and told her companions to follow Ur and the Amazons. 

The silver Lamia fit beneath the Hellhound’s shadow, but took the woman in stride.

“I see your ability regarding recruitment and talent are as grand as the rumors suggested, Lord Hikigaya.” Tanis bowed primly to her, adjusting her spectacles with one hand and pressing her clipboard against her chest with the other. Hellhounds were fairly rare and terrifying creatures. Normally, if they couldn’t be controlled, they were put down. That was the typical situation. So, I’d expected more from Roseanne’s pick in my cabinet in terms of surprise and worry. Alas, there was none of either in her prim features and amethyst, slit gaze. “However, your administrative abilities leave much to be desired. You have missed multiple missives from Lady Roseanne, as well as many of my own notes.”

“I’ll be doing those today and for the next month, then.” Heh. That surprised her. What? Did she think I was some sort of Isekai jerk who had everything dropped on his lap? The situation with the Hellhound could’ve become a bloodbath with ease. I found out about the Lich because I kept an ear out. As of this moment, I didn’t have anyone else to look for, but even then whatever council I’m going to set up will have me, Ur, and my two new recruits in it. That’s a good majority for now. “Tell me everything that needs doing. I want assignments, goals, and timeframes. Anything without a solid plan or a completion date can go in the trash. If it’s good enough of an idea, I’m willing to spend money to make more, but I’m not wasting it on shit that’s not solid.”

My Hellhound nodded along and whispered my words to herself, undoubtably doing her best to make herself smarter, while Tanis blinked rapidly with all her available eyelids.

I disembarked and began to lead my horse towards the stables, after I verified that the two of them instinctively followed me with a glance over my shoulder.

That glance also verified that underwear had to be procured for the Hellhound, but that’s beside the point.

I had a council, I had bodies, and I had resources to spend.

Farming was over. 

It was time to invest.