The morning light seemed brighter than usual. 工藤捷人 walked along his usual school route, squinting against the glare. His short black hair swayed in the spring breeze. White shirt, black slacks, a light black jacket. Just another seventeen-year-old high school student in uniform—unremarkable in every way. A bandage wrapped around his left pinky finger rubbed slightly. He'd cut himself with a knife while cooking yesterday. (Today should be another peaceful day.) His deep brown eyes gazed forward, warm and steady. Slender build, average height at one hundred seventy-two centimeters. Nothing stood out. Ordinary. Normal. Nothing special whatsoever. That was 工藤捷人. "—Chosen one." The voice came suddenly. 捷人 stopped in his tracks. He looked around, but saw no one. The morning school route was empty except for him. "We summon you to the isekai of Elistia." (Huh?) Light bloomed beneath his feet. A complex magical circle materialized on the asphalt, glowing blue-white and blinding. 捷人 instinctively closed his eyes. "Wait, what is this—" His words cut off. His body lifted. No—the world warped. His vision flooded white, sound grew distant, sensation stretched like taffy— When he came to, 捷人 stood in a stone great hall. "…What?" The word escaped involuntarily. He looked around. The ceiling soared at least ten meters high. Colorful murals covered the walls—heroes wielding swords, mages casting spells, warriors battling dragons. And facing him sat twelve people. All wore lavish clothing and radiated authority. Their ages and genders varied, but they shared one thing—they all looked down at 捷人 with unmistakable superiority. "Um…" 捷人 spoke hesitantly. "I dropped my wallet on the way here. Can I go back and get it?" Silence. All twelve figures froze completely. Not a muscle moved. They looked like statues. (…Oh no, did I read the room wrong?) 捷人 panicked internally. But it was true. He'd left his wallet at home. He'd planned to buy bread at a convenience store during lunch break. After about thirty seconds, the white-bearded elder in the center spoke. "…Your wallet will be arranged for later." His voice was low and heavy, but tinged with confusion. "Wait, can I even use isekai money?" 捷人 asked straightforwardly. The elder—presumably Lord Elvin—closed his eyes. He took what seemed like a deep breath. "…First, let us complete the ceremony." "Understood," 捷人 replied obediently. (But I hope my wallet's okay. It's just sitting at home…) While worrying internally, 捷人 gazed up at the murals. They depicted heroic figures—a brave warrior slaying a dragon, a mage protecting a city with magic, a swordsman cutting down enemies. All of them looked magnificent and powerful. "Those are amazing people," 捷人 said with genuine admiration. Only one of the twelve councilors reacted. A silver-haired woman—Councilor Sonia—let a faint smile cross her lips. Just for a moment. Then her expression returned to its solemn state. Lord Elvin stood. The other councilors rose as well. A heavy atmosphere filled the hall. "We are the Hero Council—Valorict," Lord Elvin declared solemnly. "You, summoned from another world. We now reveal your status." A magical circle appeared beneath 捷人's feet. This time it glowed red, its pattern intricate and complex, encircling him completely. The light intensified. Blinding. A massive luminous panel materialized in the air before him. Text appeared one after another. 『Summoned: 工藤捷人』 『Age: 17』 『Magical Aptitude—』 Numbers displayed. 『—Zero』 Silence. The councilors stared wordlessly at the panel. 『Swordsmanship—』 The next value. 『—Zero』 Deeper silence. 『Divine Bloodline—』 The final category. 『—None』 All twelve councilors sighed in perfect unison. Like a harmony. Impeccable timing. "Um…" 捷人 said. "Your sighs were really well-coordinated," he observed. Somewhere, someone stifled a laugh. Lord Elvin cleared his throat. "…This is as planned." "Wait, zeros were planned??" 捷人 asked in surprise. The councilors nodded in succession. "Indeed," said Councilor A. "Precisely so," said Councilor B. "No problem," said Councilor C. Their timing was perfect. "…Did you guys rehearse this?" 捷人 blurted out. Lord Elvin's white beard trembled slightly. Lord Elvin took a deep breath, trying to regain composure. Then he declared solemnly: "Your mission is to strive to become an ordinary person." Ten seconds of silence. 捷人 tried to process the meaning. "…Ordinary?" he asked. "Yes," Lord Elvin confirmed. "But I thought it'd be more like, saving the world or defeating the demon lord or something…" 捷人 ventured. "Such things are impossible for an ordinary person," Lord Elvin interrupted. "In this world, being truly ordinary is the most difficult challenge." "But… ordinary is… ordinary, right??" 捷人 was confused. All twelve councilors sighed in harmony once more. Another councilor attempted to clarify. "In this world, heroes are what is ordinary—" "That's not ordinary at all!!" 捷人 interjected without thinking. The hall froze. (…Oh no, I went too far.) 捷人 shrank back, his shoulders hunching. But Councilor Sonia murmured quietly: "…You're right." She fixed Lord Elvin with a sharp gaze. Lord Elvin raised his hand, cutting off the discussion. "We shall explain later. For now, let us conclude the ceremony." For just that moment, the comedic atmosphere stilled. A hint of internal conflict within the council hung in the air. After the ceremony ended, 捷人 was led to another room. A small space. Only a desk and chair. A young man waited there. Perhaps twenty-three years old. He had a meticulous appearance. "Thank you for your patience. I am Johan, handling your citizenship procedures," Johan said with a polite bow. "Thank you," 捷人 replied, bowing as well. Johan placed a stack of documents on the desk with a heavy thud. "Please write your name here in Vernal script," Johan instructed. "Vernal script…?" 捷人 tilted his head. "Ah, my apologies. You've been granted automatic translation blessing, so listening and speaking pose no problem. However, reading and writing…" Johan explained. "I'll need to learn, then," 捷人 understood. "Yes," Johan confirmed. Johan offered him a quill pen. 捷人 took it hesitantly. His first time holding one. He dipped the tip in an inkwell and tried to write on the document. "Um, the ink won't stop flowing," 捷人 said. "Hold it at that angle," Johan instructed. "Like this?" 捷人 asked. Drip. Ink splattered everywhere. The document turned completely black. Johan stared in silence. Ten seconds later. "…We'll redo it," Johan said. "I'm sorry…" 捷人 apologized sheepishly. After multiple attempts, the procedures finally completed. Johan handed 捷人 a green metal card—a wanderer's pass. "This is your wanderer's pass. It serves as both membership certificate and identification for the Wanderer's League—the organization that mediates adventurer requests," Johan explained. "Thank you," 捷人 said, accepting it and examining it carefully. 『Moss Rank』 was engraved on it. "…Is Moss Rank the lowest?" 捷人 asked. "Y-yes," Johan answered apologetically. "That makes sense," 捷人 nodded in agreement. Johan reacted with genuine surprise. "You're… accepting it?" he asked. "Well, my status was all zeros," 捷人 reasoned. "That's true, but… normally people would…" Johan trailed off. "It's fine. I'm actually relieved," 捷人 smiled. It was sincere. No expectations meant no pressure. Johan regarded him with a complex expression. At dusk, 捷人 walked through the streets of Clevas. Still in his school uniform. Clearly out of place among the isekai cityscape. Passersby kept glancing at him. Heroes walked freely down the main avenue. A third-rank hero—a man bearing a hero's insignia on his chest—radiated overwhelming presence. Citizens naturally parted before him. (So that's what a hero looks like,) 捷人 observed from a distance. In the distance, the White Phosphorus Palace—the royal castle—gleamed golden in the sunset. Magical lanterns began lighting throughout the city. Blue-white magical light. Beautiful. Everything was overwhelming. This world was completely different from his own. "Dull Turtle Inn, Dull Turtle Inn…" 捷人 murmured, consulting the map he'd been given. The inn was called the Dull Turtle. The council had arranged this modest lodging. He finally found it. A small two-story building with a sign reading 『Dull Turtle Inn』. When he opened the door, a woman appeared from behind the counter. Perhaps forty-eight years old. She had a caring demeanor. Slightly plump. "Oh, a new face," Poula said, eyeing 捷人 carefully. "You're not from around here, are you? That outfit—is it from another world?" she asked. "Yes, I was summoned today," 捷人 answered honestly. Poula froze for five seconds. Then: "…Have you eaten?" she asked. "Not yet," 捷人 replied. "Those council people! Never mind, food first, questions later!" Poula grabbed his hand and pulled him along. He was led to the dining hall and seated at a table. Food arrived immediately. Thick-cut wheat bread and a hearty vegetable soup. 捷人 took a spoonful of soup and tasted it. "…Oh, this is delicious," he said sincerely. Warm and gentle. The sweetness of vegetables infused the broth. "Of course it is," Poula said with a gruff laugh. But her smile was warm. 捷人 felt relieved. The ceremony at the council had been nothing but tension. But here was different. (…Maybe I can live here.) A sense of security bloomed in his chest. After eating, 捷人 was shown to his room. A small space, about four and a half tatami mats. Only a bed and a small desk. From the window, he could see Clevas's nightscape. 捷人 arranged the initial support funds—fifty copper coins—that the Wanderer's League had given him on the desk. He pulled out a notebook he'd miraculously kept in his uniform pocket. (I should calculate the exchange rate.) He recalled what Johan had told him and began writing. 『1 copper coin ≈ 100 yen』 『Lodging = 8 copper coins/night = 800 yen』 『Support funds = 50 copper coins = 5000 yen』 『5000 yen ÷ 800 yen = approximately 6 nights』 He calculated methodically. "…I need to earn income within six days or I'm done for," 捷人 muttered. He assessed the situation coldly. That was his nature—analytical, never emotional. "Be ordinary, huh…" 捷人 whispered. "If it's about maintaining an ordinary life, then… maybe I'm actually good at this," he said, a strange optimism taking root. Keeping household accounts. Cooking for himself. Living frugally. These were things 捷人 had done his entire life in Japan. He glanced at the back of his hand. The summoning mark—a faint magical circle—glowed softly there. 捷人 tried to wipe it away with his sleeve. It wouldn't disappear. "…This isn't ordinary," 捷人 muttered. The words dissolved into the silent night of his room. For just that moment, the comedic tone paused. A philosophical resonance lingered in the air. The next morning. Dawn light streamed through the window. 捷人 woke and opened it. Beyond the outer wall, the White Phosphorus Palace's spire gleamed in the morning sun. A hero walked the street below. A solidly built woman. A second-rank hero's insignia glowed on her chest. Citizens naturally parted before her. 捷人 watched the scene from above, lost in thought. "…Being ordinary here is hard," he murmured. In this world, perhaps heroes were ordinary and ordinary people were the anomaly. "Breakfast!" Poula's voice bellowed from downstairs. 捷人 folded his notebook and stood. "But I'll just do what needs doing, normally," he said with a wry smile. He descended the stairs, flicking his wanderer's pass with his finger. Moss Rank. A small green metal plate. It caught the morning light and glimmered. That light overlapped with the summoning mark on his palm— A single moment of imagery. Like a panel in a comedy manga. Light in tone. Yet within it lay the entire story's theme, quietly embe