After reincarnating into this world, I learned one thing for sure: the quickest way to blend into a fantasy world is to pay attention to your clothes.
There are manners. There is culture. But no matter how hard you try to adapt, memories from your previous life will always get in the way and create awkward gaps in your behavior.
Clothes, however, you just put on. If you wear them well, that’s a bonus. East or west, even if the whole world changes, as long as you stand straight and keep proper posture, you look cool.
Anyway, back to the point. Right now, folded neatly in my hands, is one set of uniform.
“…Hey.”
“I already know what you’re gonna say, so don’t say it.”
Hmm. Looks like Monica, who’s standing next to me, knows exactly what I’m thinking. We haven’t known each other long, but she’s a fellow transmigrator from the same homeland. Sharing the same values probably means we feel the same way about this uniform.
“Doesn’t this look way more like cosplay when I wear it?”
“I told you not to say it…!”
I mean, come on, right?
It really doesn’t look like something a cute seven-year-old girl would wear. Seven years old is basically first grade, right? I’m not saying I want to wear it, but kids that age should be in softer, fluffier clothes… At the very least, not something that screams “grimdark fantasy military academy.”
Well, putting that aside, uniforms do exist in elementary schools sometimes; it’s not unheard of.
But this Galileo Magic Academy uniform… how do I put it… it’s clearly inspired by military uniforms.
A seven-year-old (even if the design is scaled down) wearing a uniform with military motifs. The sheer absurdity can be politely summed up in four letters: C-O-S-P.
Sure, Galileo Magic Academy is officially an institution that trains Heroes to fight demons. But that’s just the surface. The true nature is a demon-run farm raising humans stocked with holy armaments and experience points.
In that light, at least we’re not naked with collars. I’ve worn maid outfits at Rozean’s place, so one or two cosplay outfits at this point are whatever.
“…Guess I’ll put it on.”
Personally, I’d rather wear less; it’s easier to move. To be honest, when killing demons I’d be fine stark naked. Wounds heal instantly, and dirt washes off with water. I don’t need clothes to protect this body.
Also, I don’t want extra chores. Namely, the universal human labor everyone who wears clothes can’t escape: laundry. In a world without automatic washing machines, laundry is serious work. On the road with that merchant old man, how many times did I end up stomping on those guys’ laundry with these delicate, slender legs?
“You’re putting it on without much complaint…”
“Obviously. I’m not gonna live my daily life in shabby underwear.”
I forget the exact title of the original work. Something like “To Those Who Embrace the Holy Sword”? I don’t know how character outfits were handled in the game, but this world isn’t sweet enough to let you quick-change from a menu screen.
You have to actually thread your arms through sleeves and adjust and fasten every belt. All the annoyances of real life remain.
Right now Monica and I are in the empty girls’ changing room of the bathhouse. There are no other humans, let alone demons, so we’re talking casually, but I don’t have the hobby of lingering in underwear for no reason.
Seven years of living in this body means my hands move smoothly as I put on the girls’ uniform. Since I have to wear it every day, it’s surprisingly easy despite the looks. Compared to that cursed maid outfit, this is nothing.
Looking at Lina and Monica, you can tell the taste of whoever designed this thing. Even a mob like Monica looks like a proper Student Hero, so there’s no way it wouldn’t suit me.
“Ooh, as expected of the next protagonist… You’re pulling it off perfectly…!”
“Thanks for the compliment. Well, it’d be a problem if it didn’t suit me.”
From now on I have to fool the eyes of the demons lurking in the academy. There must be zero suspicious elements.
I carefully compare my uniform to Monica’s. …Hmm.
“Hey, why are our ribbon colors different?”
“Ah, that.”
Monica pinched the green ribbon at her own collar.
“Galileo Magic Academy has a separate ranking system for practical quests apart from classroom grades. The color changes once you complete a certain number.”
“Hoo. So you’re green and I’m blue.”
Exactly as she said, the newcomer me has a blue ribbon. Not green.
So that means…
“You’re above me and I’m below you?”
“It can’t be helped, okay!?”
True, it can’t be helped. But it still pisses me off.
“Plus I’m not planning to do anything openly dangerous, and probably can’t anyway. Man, being stuck beneath you the whole time I’m at the academy is annoying.”
“You’re way too obsessed with top and bottom… Original Sharon wasn’t like that…”
“I don’t give a damn about the original. This is me being docile. If I felt like it, I could march right into Elsha’s place.”
This world is the stage of the game Monica knows. But there’s no obligation to follow the game script.
Opening with the boss fight is also an option.
“Hey!? No, seriously, don’t! That one is absolutely not a joke…!”
“Got it, got it. A siscon as the final boss? What kind of game design is that? I feel bad for Lina, whose life got ruined by that thing.”
Well, that worry is gone now. Some Hero’s Ghost somewhere kindly took over that troublesome role.
Still, this outfit. It really suits me. Yeah, looking good is fine and all, and I’m happy about it, but how others perceive “looking good” is up to them. I don’t think there’s anything about me worth worrying over, but I’ll ask this blind-fish Monica just in case.
“So, first impression-wise, cool-type or cute-type?”
“Eh, you’re the type who cares about that?”
“I’m at that age. I’m extra sensitive to how others see me.”
“Eeeh…?”
She looks from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, then finally at my face, and clutches her head in distress.
What’s there to agonize over? Just answer already.
“This is important, so no flattery. Your honest first impression is fine.”
“…Uh, well… cool-type?”
“Tch.”
“Why the tongue click!? You said honest opinion!”
Looks like in my natural state, the “cool” vibe is stronger than the cute one. I half-expected it, but it seems I’ll be relying on 《Acting》 skill during academy life too.
“Well, whatever. I never planned to be cute without 《Acting》 anyway.”
“If you didn’t have 《Acting》 you couldn’t even rein in that yakuza speech pattern; you’re seriously ill. It’s not like you were a guy in your previous life or anything.”
“Hah? I was a guy in my previous life.”
The moment I answered, silence fell over the changing room.
…What’s with this idiot woman. Did she seriously think my previous life was female?
“Anyway, bath time. Man, putting on and taking off clothes all day is tiring.”
“Wait wait, hold on!? After that conversation you’re just casually walking into the girls’ bath!? That’s obviously not okay!”
“I’m a girl?”
What the hell. Is a girl entering the girls’ bath a crime now?
“No, but, you…! You said your previous life was male!”
“Yeah. But right now I’m female. Wanna check between my legs?”
“Don’t show me, don’t show me! I played the original so I know Sharon’s sex! We’re talking about what’s inside!”
“What a pain…”
When it comes to bath gender, just check whether there’s something between the legs or not. Trying to divide by invisible “insides” is what makes things complicated.
“What are you worried about? That I’m a pervert who’ll peep freely in the girls’ bath? Relax. I have zero interest in naked girls or naked guys.”
“With that attitude!? I can’t believe it…!”
“Believe it or not, it’s my nature from my previous life. I have basically no sex drive.”
Pure unadulterated truth. Though I wouldn’t expect her to believe it easily.
Actually, if a reincarnated guy properly carried over male sex drive from his previous life, wouldn’t he get excited by his own body every day? Sure it’s underdeveloped, but face-wise Sharon Berna is a heroine-level beauty who could headline a trilogy.
She even charmed Rozean. If a normal ex-male got possession of a body like this, wouldn’t he enjoy it every night? I never did.
“Convinced? I just want to wash off the travel sweat.”
“Hold it! Don’t end the conversation unilaterally! Right now I stand here as a Hero protecting the garden of maidens! You understand that!?”
“What a stubborn pain-in-the-ass woman…”
Protecting the garden of maidens? Says the girl who spilled all her secrets the moment I put her through enhanced interrogation. Quite the stiff sense of honor.
“I’d be fine with the men’s bath too if that makes you happy.”
“No, that’s— wait just a damn second!?”
Why not.
Monica strikes a pose like she’s the protagonist of a drama about anguish and conflict, groaning “unnn, unnn.” Looks like the opponent she has to fight isn’t me but her own sense of ethics. What a pain.
“Whatever, just decide quick. I begged them to open the bath at a time when no other students are around. Plus after this we’re retrieving the holy armament from that lake, right? Dawdle too long and other girls will show up.”
“When did you strip completely!? And stop that old-man bath style with the towel around your neck! You look exactly like a middle-aged dude!”
“That’s prejudice.”
Hanging a towel around your neck isn’t exclusively an old-man trait. She’s probably just picturing my previous-life self because the inside is male. Rude.
I don’t catch colds with this body, but standing around naked chatting with Monica is just too stupid.
Leaving the groaning Monica behind, I step alone into the bathhouse.
When you hear “fantasy world bathhouse,” it’s best not to get your hopes up.
But the bathhouse at Galileo Magic Academy pleasantly betrayed my low expectations.
Sure, compared to the grand public baths I knew from my previous life, the facilities are a bit underwhelming.
Still, there are shower-like things, the tub is huge, and the water temperature easily exceeds 40 °C—far from lukewarm.
After seven years here, my standards for hygiene have inevitably dropped. Even accounting for that, this bathhouse is a perfect score.
Back when I was traveling with that merchant old man, the best I got was wiping myself down with a wet towel. My body was fine either way, but mood matters.
I hear that pretty soon this place will be packed with sweat-soaked female students. So I only have a little longer to monopolize this giant bath.
A huge bath and one tiny kid. There’s only one thing to do.
“Hmm. Wash up quick… then swim.”
“Don’t you dare swim!”
I turn around and there’s Monica, exposing the kind of boring body you’d expect from a mob character.
“What, you finally made up your mind?”
“W-Wait! Don’t look this way!”
“Don’t step into my field of vision then. Showing off that boring body.”
“Boring!? This is the body of a perfectly youthful teenage maiden, you know!?”
“And? Being a maiden isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card.”
Monica’s naked body was, as one might imagine, boring.
Or to put it another way: the kind of body you can find anywhere. No artistic physical beauty. Not fat, not skinny. Not muscular, not covered in flab.
Yep. Mob. A mob-character body.
“Sorry to interrupt while you’re being shy—or actually, this might be good news for you? Looking at that body just reconfirmed it for me. Sexually, aesthetically—there’s not a single thing I feel from it. You must be relieved, Monica-oneechan.”
“I know I’m a mob, but did you have to go that far…!?”
“On the contrary, I’m more worried about myself. There’s no guarantee you won’t lust after my body, right?”
“W-Who the hell would lust after you!?”
Well, at least Rozean did. Though that one was an exception.
“…I mean, I’m not lusting or anything.”
For some reason Monica repeated her earlier strong denial, this time with slightly ominous additional wording. I didn’t miss it.
“Hey.”
“No, I’m really not lusting! It’s just… could I maybe wash your hair?”
“…That’s already lust.”
“It’s not lust, I tell you! This is, uh, perfectly legal physical contact with an original-game character! A precious chance to touch a rare beautiful girl’s hair! Absolutely no impure motives—just a pure and righteous act!”
“That’s lust. Give me a break…”
“I told you it’s not lust!”
“Sigh. I’m not a narcissist, but even I know I’m cute, okay? Still, I get way too much trouble like this. First some horny idiot demon like Rozean gropes me, now a mob transmigrator too? Am I seriously the only normal person in this world?”
“No no, that’s definitely not true. Who the hell tortures someone they just met?”
“Enhanced interrogation, remember? Use words correctly.”
I’d never do something as inhumane as torture to a fellow human—only demons get that treatment.
But… yeah, fair point. She’s one of the few transmigrators who actually knows this world. Enhanced interrogation right off the bat might have left a slightly bad impression.
If letting her touch my hair can fix that, it’s cheap enough.
“Fine, hair is fine. Do whatever you want. Just hurry up and satisfy yourself so I can soak already.”
“Eh, you’re being way too agreeable—it’s scary… You’re not gonna drown me the moment I touch it, right?”
“…If that’s what you want, I can throw in that after-service too.”
Looks like fixing that first impression is going to be tough.
Well, whatever. I don’t really mind.
Nice to meet you. I’m Kuroto Midori.
Thank you very much for purchasing I Thought I Reincarnated into a Musou Game, but Apparently This is a Hardcore Depressing Game.
In an age of endless entertainment, the fact that you picked my book off a shelf lined with countless masterpieces and read it to the end fills me with gratitude beyond words.
With this afterword space kindly granted to me, I’d like to give a brief explanation—or rather, a few cautionary notes—about this work.
Separate from the main themes of the story, the personal selling point I had in mind while writing was the incredibly shallow idea that “cute girls making villainous faces are just cool, right?”
And that fixation of mine came true in a way that caused trouble for both the illustrator Hanabusa Eisto-sama and my editor-in-charge: yes, I’m talking about that frontispiece and the illustration on page 251.
The “depression game” element layered on top of the “unmatched power-fantasy” premise exists solely for the sake of Sharon’s expression in those pictures. Even I, the author, can’t believe that monster is the protagonist. To draw out that expression, “violence depiction” is absolutely indispensable.
The demons—enemies of humanity who commit every imaginable atrocity—are nothing more than a device to justify Sharon’s cruelty within the story.
They are humanity’s sworn foes, yet when killed they leave no corpse, only turning into dust and conveniently handing over experience points and holy armaments to Sharon… There’s no way that little devil would ever let such perfect prey escape.
Consequently, in future volumes Sharon will make even crueler use of new holy armaments and run rampant. I have no idea whether you’ll be able to “look forward” to that or not… but if you can, I would be overjoyed if you’d stick with me a little longer.
Now, for the acknowledgments.
First, to Hanabusa Eisto-sama, who handled the illustrations for this book: I never imagined you’d depict Sharon’s brutality to this extent! I’m truly sorry there were so few chances to show off the holy armaments I went to the trouble of designing in detail…! Next volume—next volume for sure…!
To my editor Haneda-sama, who picked this story out of countless web novels and reached out to me: even now, as I write this afterword, I’m still thinking, “Was this content really okay…?” (laughs).
To everyone else who worked hard to bring this book to publication: thank you so, so much!
I’m still a complete rookie author with many shortcomings, but I hope you’ll continue to support me from here on. Also, to the friends and family whose names I can’t list here: I did it—I became an author!
And finally, once more, to all the readers who read through the main story and this afterword to the very end:
Thank you, truly, truly, from the bottom of my heart!
