That very night, Caro returned to the orphanage and recounted to those still there what had happened at the church. She claimed she’d fled in sheer terror, having no idea what followed—prompting the “adults” to swiftly investigate.
She received a small commendation and some praise. Though the act was meaningless, the reputation meant she could now sell the thumb-sized black crystal she’d gotten from the Dragon Slayer.
Everyone knew the legend of Arnold, the Dragon Slayer. His Heroic Rank Adventurer squad was named *Demonhunt*—a revered team whose highest goal was eradicating demons, with slaying the Demon King as their sacred mission. Common knowledge across the human continent. After all, Heroic Rank squads were rare and immensely powerful.
Five members made up the squad:
Dragon Slayer Arnold and Blade Dancer Karin formed the frontline—a male-female swordsman duo. Arnold favored heavy armor; Karin, light. Harmony Weaver Melissa served as mage. Demon Purifier Helen, the cleric. And leading them all: archer Cassipero, hailed as the “Demon Hunter.”
One thing people noticed about the Demonhunt Squad? Aside from the Dragon Slayer, every member was stunningly beautiful. Rumor whispered Arnold lived a life of romantic bliss… though the original founders were precisely the two heroes: Demon Hunter Cassipero and Dragon Slayer Arnold. Later recruits likely joined out of admiration. Caro gritted her teeth at the thought.
*That man in black… so enviable.*
Sure, her dream was to become an adventurer—but if a harem-style squad of gorgeous girls invited her? Maybe she’d *reluctantly* consider it. Daily mishaps… stumbling into the girls’ bath~, waking up with a sleepy squadmate sharing her bed… scenarios where one slightly scoundrel move could unlock the harem route…
And rumor said they were *top-tier* beauties.
*Damn it.*
She’d almost acted on impulse—but her “tools” had been confiscated upon arrival. Curious about girls? Yes. But trying it? Risky. What if she got hooked? She’d lose the pride she once held as a man.
For two years, chores kept her mind busy. Lately, resisting grew harder… this body was maturing.
(An awkward truth: her first time here, she’d tearfully run to the director. This world wasn’t like the last.)
She’d adapted somewhat—but feelings remained tangled.
During her talk with the adults, she produced the tiny black crystal. Under everyone’s eyes, no one would dare cheat her. They felt too awkward to swindle the girl who’d just reported vital info—though envy surely simmered. Caro didn’t care.
“Just give me a harp matching this crystal’s value. And convert the church’s promised harp into cash for me?”
They agreed. They wouldn’t give a *true*-value harp, but it wouldn’t be shoddy—and the cash would cover travel.
Honestly, it was windfall gain. She never planned to claim it all. Greed invited risk.
New harps were pricey. Secondhand? Maybe a tenth the cost—if you found a seller. Nobles wouldn’t touch used instruments; bards were too rare. Thieves avoided stealing them—hard to fence, heavy to carry, and famous ones were recognizable. Once in her hands, the harp’s market value vanished. Only meaningful to bards. A safe choice.
*How’s this, parents in heaven? Yeah, your son got isekai’d. Yeah, I was the spoiled rich kid, the “wastrel”… but in this? Still sharp. Still cautious! …Wait. Did you two get isekai’d too? Living some dragon-protagonist fantasy, blissfully in love? Makes your son jealous~*
She silently honored her late parents, then basked in quiet pride over her clever move.
Then—she learned why the Dragon Slayer was called the *False Hero*.
A wanted poster arrived in Kaven. Someone must’ve deduced *he* handled the church incident.
Caro never got posters like this. Did townsfolk really think they could capture him? One swing of that greatsword—taller than a man—could fell dozens. *A fruit knife kills; imagine that.*
She scanned the poster:
*Massacred Merchant Guild X. Slaughtered Official Y’s family. Killed over a hundred “innocents.” Razed a city.* Villainy incarnate.
But… she’d *met* Arnold. Unpleasant? Maybe. Gentle? Undeniably.
*Well… maybe Guild X dealt in shadows. Maybe Official Y’s son was a tyrant. Maybe the “civilians” were demon zombies…*
…Okay, that was forced. Hidden truths? Maybe. A second consciousness inside him? Plausible.
The poster continued:
*Clashed with the Demon Hunter. Injured. Expelled. Blacklisted by the Adventurers’ Guild. Branded “False Hero”—the ultimate fraud who stained heroism.*
Bounty: a 1 followed by many zeros.
*Thank gods I stayed silent. Called an accomplice? I’d be done.*
Dragon Slayer or False Hero—didn’t matter. She had her harp. A little cash.
For that, she owed Arnold thanks. His future? If desperate… defect to demons. They seemed welcoming.
As an isekai’er, she held no racial bias. She’d never slander someone who helped her. A silent blessing was all she could offer.
A clear conscience. That was enough.
Now, Caro cradled her gleaming golden harp—perfectly matching her hair. Fingertips brushed the strings: subtle tones, intricate carvings, premium wood grain.
*Heavenly.*
*True luxury.*
Rich-kid instincts remained. Some things just *screamed* quality. She felt the craftsman’s soul in every curve.
*Name it.*
“Golden Dragon?” she murmured… then winced. *Too tacky.* Fingers tapped the frame.
*Wait—why am I naming it?!*
*How… big IS this thing?!*
Arnold’s sword dwarfed him. *Her* harp dwarfed *her*? She’d pictured something handheld—like a guitar, a waist drum… but *foot pedals*?! For tuning?! No wonder it felt off…
She could *barely* carry it. Two years of chores built strength—but travel with *this*?
*Can I even play it?!*
*Sell it. Get a harmonica. Massive loss… but HOW to carry it?!*
Then—memory flashed. Arnold’s sword *shrank* on his back.
*Could mine…? Or is that a swordsman skill?*
She pulled up her status panel.
Last check: blank.
Now—
A single line glowed.
*No way?!*
