Greji sat at the newly polished desk in his temporary study, poring over plans for an ambitious event he hoped would turn the tide for his estate. With the manor still under reconstruction and his coffers steadily recovering thanks to his "reformed" scammer-turned-advisors, he decided it was time to bolster his resources in a different way: by assembling a team of capable individuals.
He wanted a party and not just any party, but one filled with extraordinary adventurers who could help him tackle dungeons, close demon gates, and, ideally, locate the elusive Hero. To do so, he would need to host a recruitment event unlike anything the region had ever seen. And naturally, he'd be the centerpiece.
The idea came to him as he admired himself in a mirror (as he often did). If his face could sway villagers and make knights falter, why not use it to draw adventurers from across the land? Greji envisioned posters with his most radiant portrait plastered across the kingdom, accompanied by the tagline:
"Join the Count's Knights: Serve, Protect, and Bask in the Glory of Your Handsome Leader!"
The event would be held on the estate grounds, complete with competitions to test strength, skill, and ingenuity. Greji planned a series of challenges tailored to identify talent:
• Combat Tournament: A classic test of strength and strategy, pitting fighters against each other to showcase their prowess. Greji imagined himself watching from a grand balcony, tossing a rose to the winner.
• Dungeon Simulation: Using a repurposed storage cellar, the scammers suggested creating a makeshift dungeon filled with puzzles and traps. It would test candidates' ability to navigate dangerous environments, without actual demons, of course.
• Practical Skills Exhibition: Beyond combat, Greji wanted resourceful individuals those who could craft potions, decipher ancient texts, or even cook a decent meal. After all, what good was a party without variety?
Using his charm as a weapon, Greji planned an elaborate marketing campaign. He commissioned a traveling bard to spread the word, equipped with a catchy ballad praising his wisdom, charisma, and "jawline carved by the gods." Flyers were printed and distributed in nearby towns, each featuring Greji's dazzling smile.
He also authorized the scammers to set up a temporary stall in bustling markets, promising exclusive perks to early applicants. "First ten recruits get free lunch with me!" he announced proudly, ignoring the collective groan from his staff.
Amid his planning, Greji was so absorbed in his work that he failed to notice his little sister lurking nearby. Unlike Greji, who radiated charm and chaos wherever he went, his sister had a much more subtle presence. Known in whispers as the "Invisible Assassin," she was a prodigy with twin daggers cleverly disguised as ornate hair clips. Her title wasn't just for show, she could vanish into the shadows without a trace, her movements as silent as a cat stalking prey.
Her sharp eyes followed Greji as he enthusiastically sketched out a rough layout for the event grounds, complete with a stage for his grand opening speech. She tilted her head, wondering how her brother could juggle such grand ideas while being so oblivious to his surroundings.
Finally, she stepped into the light, her expression unreadable. "Brother," she said, her voice low but cutting, "are you planning to parade yourself around like a peacock again?"
Greji flinched, dropping his quill. "What? No! Well, maybe a little. It's all part of the strategy, you see. A leader must inspire!"
"Hmm." She leaned against the doorframe, spinning one of her hair-clip daggers between her fingers. "I hope you've accounted for security. Events like this are prime targets for… opportunists."
Greji blinked. "Security? Of course, I've accounted for that. Who do you think I am?" He paused. "Wait, do you mean actual security, or just you lurking around scaring people?"
She didn't answer, instead slipping back into the shadows with a faint smirk.
Shaken but not deterred, Greji returned to his planning. He delegated tasks to his staff, ensuring every detail of the event was perfect. The combat ring was constructed, the cellar dungeon was rigged with harmless but challenging traps, and the scammers were stationed at the gates to collect entrance fees (and thoroughly vetted to ensure they didn't pocket the proceeds).
As the day of the event approached, Greji couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was his chance to not only strengthen his estate but to take the first steps toward his grander goals.
And, in the back of his mind, he wondered if the Hero might just show up. Fate had brought him to this world, after all maybe it would deliver the Hero right to his doorstep.
But first, he had to survive his sister's critiques and ensure she didn't assassinate half the attendees.
Sitting in his temporary study, Greji leaned back in his chair, staring at the ornate ceiling with a furrowed brow. The preparations for the grand event were progressing smoothly, but a nagging thought kept pulling at the edges of his mind.
Relying on allies was a solid plan. No, it was a brilliant plan but even Greji couldn't ignore the obvious flaw: what if there came a moment when he was alone, forced to face danger without the safety net of his party?
"Damn it," he muttered, tapping his quill against the desk. "I'm basically a glorified manager right now. If push comes to shove, what am I going to do? Smolder at the enemy until they faint?"
Greji couldn't rely solely on his party, no matter how capable they might be. He had read enough stories and seen enough anime to know that there would be moments, a critical, nail-biting moments—where only he could act. Maybe his allies would be incapacitated, or maybe the Demon King would target him directly as the weakest link.
And that was the problem: Greji was the weakest link. No system, no flashy powers, no hidden bloodline and it was as if the universe had deliberately nerfed him.
He slammed his hands onto the desk. "No way. I refuse to be the guy who trips and dies during the tutorial level. If I don't have a system, I'll make my own. If I don't have talent, I'll forge it. I'm Greji of Earth, not just Greji of this world. There has to be a way."
Greji's cunning mind began to churn, piecing together fragments of knowledge from Earth. If this world was truly separate from the media he consumed, then perhaps it lacked the techniques and philosophies that had been developed on Earth.
He thought about martial arts, weight training, meditation techniques, and strategies for maximizing physical potential. While he couldn't unlock a mystical bloodline or grind for XP like the locals, he could train his body and mind to their absolute limits.
"After all," he mused, a sly grin creeping onto his face, "humans from Earth have conquered mountains, crossed oceans, and invented deep-fried ice cream. If they can do all that without a system, so can I."
But before he could dive into self-improvement, there was the small matter of the event to handle. Recruitment was key, if he couldn't build a team of adventurers to compensate for his lack of power, then the rest of his plans would collapse like a house of cards.
Greji pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and began sketching a detailed timeline for the event. After all, his path to personal strength could wait a little longer. Right now, he needed allies, money, and influence, all of which the event promised to deliver.
"First, I'll organize the best recruitment festival this kingdom has ever seen," he said, his determination rekindled. "Then, I'll tackle the question of strength. One step at a time, Greji. You've got this."
He leaned back in his chair, imagining a future where his name was spoken in awe across the land, not as the weakest count's son, but as the cunning leader who outsmarted fate itself. And perhaps, along the way, he might just uncover a path to strength that no one in this world had ever considered.
Back on Earth, Greji wasn't always the meek, bullied figure most people knew. In fact, there was a time when his life was full of vibrance and purpose, a far cry from the gray monotony of his high school years. As a child, he was a prodigy in martial arts, a whirlwind of fists and determination who dominated competitions.
His journey began with karate, where his disciplined forms and sharp strikes earned him his first medal. Soon, he dabbled in boxing, his quick jabs and footwork bringing him further accolades. Then came Muay Thai, where his knees and elbows became weapons, and finally, kung fu, the art that taught him patience and strategy. Greji wasn't just skilled—he was exceptional, a natural fighter with a sharp mind and an indomitable spirit.
But life, as it often does, had other plans. His parents, his greatest supporters, died suddenly in a car accident. It was a tragedy that could have been ripped straight from the pages of a cliched high school drama, but to Greji, it was all too real. His world crumbled in an instant, leaving him with only his grandmother, a kind woman with little strength to guide him through his grief.
Before her death, his mother had made him promise one thing: never to use his martial arts to harm others. She believed in peace and restraint, values she instilled deeply in him. To honor her memory, Greji abandoned the fighting world, locking away his skills and choosing to endure life's punches without striking back.
That promise, however, came at a cost. In school, Greji became an easy target for bullies. He refused to retaliate physically, no matter how much they mocked or humiliated him. Lunches stolen, books knocked out of his hands, taunts hurled his way, he bore it all in silence, the fire in his eyes barely contained behind the thick sunglasses he started wearing to hide himself.
But make no mistake: Greji wasn't broken. Beneath the surface, the cunning and strength that once defined him still burned. If he couldn't fight back with his fists, he fought back with his mind and his words were sharper than any blade.
When a bully tried to trip him in the hallway, Greji casually sidestepped and muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, "Wow, coordination like that must make your parents so proud. What's next, failing at walking in a straight line?"
When another tried to shove him into a locker, Greji ducked and quipped, "Careful now! If your brain works as hard as your arms, you might overheat."
And when they insulted his sunglasses, calling him "wannabe cool," he adjusted them dramatically and smirked. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did my future blind you? I keep these on to filter out the mediocrity."
His words often left his bullies flustered, their attempts at dominance backfiring in the face of his wit. Though it didn't stop the bullying entirely, it gave Greji small victories, moments where he reclaimed his dignity without breaking his promise to his mother.
His mocking voice became a shield, a weapon, and an art form. And though he played the part of the downtrodden high school nobody, in those fleeting moments, the fire within him blazed brightly, a reminder of the warrior he once was and could still be.
With no outlet for his frustrations, Greji turned to books and anime, immersing himself in stories of heroes and adventures. They became his escape, his solace. He envied their worlds, where problems could be solved with strength, courage, or clever schemes.
He started intentionally downplaying himself at school, growing out his bangs to hide his sharp features and avoiding the top ranks in academics despite his natural intelligence. It was easier to blend in as a nobody, a shadow in the background, than to stand out and invite more attention.
Yet, even in the depths of his misery, Greji held on to a small hope: that life might one day offer him an opportunity to reignite the fire within him, to rise above his circumstances without breaking the promise he made to his mother.
Little did he know, that opportunity would come in the most bizarre way possible delivered by none other than Truck-kun.