HPV 9

“Sharing a room with someone… seriously?”

I grumbled loudly, making sure the man who had just walked in could hear me.

“This wasn’t how it was where I used to live.”

I phrased it like a complaint on purpose, and well, it wasn’t a lie. Back at the Order, I’d never shared a room with anyone.

Who would willingly sleep next to someone from that filthy, damp underground anyway?

The beds were split with a small nightstand in the middle—mine was the left one by the door, Banwes’s was the right.

Yurichen had said that if I stayed by Banwes’s side and kept him in check 24/7, I’d be given a priest’s seat at the temple. I’d agreed, and this was the result.

Unless something unexpected happened, Banwes’s side would be mine from here on out.

In the game, there were the occasional cutscenes of the party camping, but Banwes was always shown sitting alone against a tree, never with anyone.

When he saw me, his expression changed. For a second, his eyes went unfocused, then a sharp, prickling aura crept over my skin.

A tense silence stretched between us. If no one said anything, Banwes would probably just stand in that doorway until he died.

And obviously, the one who had to speak up… was me.

“I heard someone said they wouldn’t go on this journey unless I was there…”

A bit unnerving, but I gave Banwes a bright smile and needled him.

“You were annoyed by me, so you pulled that trick, didn’t you? You didn’t want to see me sell you out and then live comfortably at the temple.”

That was the conclusion I’d come to about why Banwes dragged me into the party.

Maybe Yurichen had seen it in him, too, with his insight.

“But still, begging to bring along someone you snarl at just for making eye contact… That’s some grudge you’ve got.”

“…Yeah? So what if it is?”

To my surprise, Banwes actually replied—his lips moved beneath that mask of monster hide. Head held high, he was trying to talk back.

I shrugged.

“It’s not about what I’ll do—you should be worrying. Listen up. I’ve got trash stamina. You’ll probably have to carry me for half the journey.”

I wasn’t sure if it was okay for the story to deviate from the game this much… but it was out of my hands now. It’s not like I could just tell them to leave me behind.

“You’re digging your own grave. Being carried by me would be humiliating. Are you really so shameless you want a monster to haul you around?”

“Humiliating? Please. You think that’ll make me mad? Just imagining you as my personal carriage gets me hyped!”

Banwes went quiet, like it wasn’t worth responding anymore. My victory.

He’s really not cut out for verbal sparring.

He’d always been the quiet type—even when it mattered, he rarely spoke. Just how irritating must I be for him to break that silence, something no player ever got him to do?

He’d been transported here like a convict in a prison cart and looked downright miserable after heating up in the underground chamber. Even so, he didn’t head for the restroom.

So I helpfully pointed it out.

“That’s the bathroom. Thought you didn’t know.”

But instead of listening, he just walked over and sat at the edge of the bed—furthest from me.

Ah. Right.

A small detail from the game came back to me. He hated using human conveniences. Probably made him feel like he was submitting to humans.

To the point he’d choose discomfort over it, like now. So I poked at him again.

“You managed just fine washing up alone in the forest. Don’t tell me you’re gonna just sit there because this place is unfamiliar?”

At last, Banwes shot to his feet. Success.

I straightened my robe and followed him eagerly to the bathroom door.

“This is soap. The wooden tub has hot water. The steam rising isn’t fog—it’s because the water’s hot…”

He stood still at first, but soon, his crimson eyes showed a flicker of irritation. Still, he’d decided to bathe.

With a soft thud, something fell to the floor—the limp, worn-out monster-face mask, crumpled like thin paper.

Banwes stripped off his ragged clothes. His body, like it had leapt from the pages of some old tome, sank into the water. He dunked himself all the way under in a flash. Water spilled over the rim of the tub like a waterfall.

“You’re getting it everywhere!”

I stepped back with a whine, but too slow—water was already lapping at my feet. I gave up dodging and just stood there. I was barefoot anyway. Honestly, it was kind of nice and warm.

Whether I complained or not, Banwes surfaced with a splash, running his wet hair back with his hand.

I stared at him for a moment, dazed.

If my skin was like marble, his was like those copper relics that decorated the underground shrine—dark, but smooth and immaculate.

He looked nothing like me, all underfed and shaky. I’d never seen a body like his before.

He was like a spirit born of the earth itself, carved from raw power and packed into that solid, full form.

He scrubbed himself without hesitation, splashing water over his face. I could see everything—the pronounced brow bones, thick, dense eyebrows, the water trailing down his nose and jaw. When the deep-set eyelids and that fierce red gaze emerged again, it felt like the light of them seized my entire mind.

“Is watching a monster take a bath that entertaining?”

Banwes sneered.

It wasn’t exactly an unpleasant sight, but not something worth searching for a witty reply over either—and honestly, I was tired. I didn’t fight the weariness pressing down on my eyelids and stepped out of the bathroom.

The most luxurious bed I’d ever lain on—heaven itself—was waiting for me. I crawled under the covers and savored the feel of the crisp, dry sheets. The occasional splash of water served as a lullaby as I closed my eyes.

After a while, I stirred at the sensation of movement behind me.

My senses were dull overall, but strangely enough, I could always tell when someone was behind me—as if some instinct kicked in regardless of my will, and tension gripped my body.

Banwes had finished bathing and moved quietly, but even he couldn’t completely suppress the tiny droplets of water falling onto the wooden floor.

The candle on the nightstand flickered out with a whoosh. The light that had cast his swaying shadow disappeared.

In the days I’d spent in the royal palace, I’d tried hard to come to terms with my reality. Part of the hero’s party. The protagonist’s party, no less.

All that effort I put into keeping my distance by playing the villain—what was it all for?

Life really never goes the way you want. When would I ever get to be where I wanted, when I wanted?

Getting tangled up with the hero’s party means that the camaraderie they build might end up reaching me too.

And I had nothing. I didn’t deserve it. Honestly, it scared me.

That I might… come to rely on them, once I let my guard down.

People always betray you. Everyone in the Order had betrayed me. I no longer wanted to live side by side with anyone. That’s why the solitary temple life had suited me so well.

How can I stay isolated within the hero’s party? I can’t keep playing the villain anymore.

I thought about it over and over, and then—suddenly—I had a good idea. No, it had always been there, and I’d just failed to notice it.

I’m weak anyway, right? And I’ve got a bad attitude.

Deadweight among exceptional allies. A liability in battle, someone they’d have to protect, someone who’d only earn glares. Honestly, that was more off-putting than being a villain.

It would’ve been better not to join the party in the first place, but if I could make myself disliked enough, maybe we could part ways later. That thought gave me hope.

Life at the palace was peaceful and uneventful. We hadn’t set out yet, so we were still staying here for the time being.

The hero’s party would eventually number five. For now, three had gathered.

There was the swordsman and main character, Paronai—the one who would slay countless monsters and even the black dragon.

Then Banwes, the fighter who charged in first to draw attention and create openings with his body.

And Yurichen, the healer who handled blessings, curses, and sometimes even exorcisms.

Even just these three formed a fairly balanced battle group, but one more member was needed to actually take down evil.

A mage and an archer would be joining soon. Both were playable characters—I had detailed game info on them.

They would arrive almost at the same time, with the mage arriving just slightly earlier.

Yurichen, however, hated the idea of meeting the mage.

“…That person, a hero to defeat the black dragon? Absurd.”

I wanted to ask, Aren’t you doubting Gaioh’s divine will right now? But I kept my mouth shut, knowing all I’d get in return was a cold glare.

Yurichen already knew the mage. And just like Banwes, who was half-beast, the mage also had an absolutely terrible reputation.

The place we were going to meet the mage? A prison.

The future party member had arrived in custody, dragged in by palace guards.