The Lazy Grand Strategy of Asora: Lord Mito and His Retainers' Guild Boom
Misumi Makoto just wanted a quiet life. Instead, he got summoned to another world, called ugly to his face, and thrown into a wasteland by a goddess who decided he wasn't hero material. Rude, honestly.
But Makoto isn't the type to grovel. Armed with five mysterious rings, a pocket dimension called Asora, and a crew of loyal (if eccentric) retainers who insist on calling him "Lord Mito," he's decided to do the one thing no one expects from a discarded hero candidate: open a shop.
Between sellin
The Lazy Grand Strategy of Asora: Lord Mito and His Retainers' Guild Boom - Lord Mito Stands in the Mirage Plaza — Tomoe Makes Her Entrance!
Morning light washed the stone paving of Mirage Plaza a brilliant white.
The sky was high and cloudless. Somewhere in the distance, a seagull cried. The smell of the tide drifted all the way into the heart of the city.
Misumi Makoto stood in front of his stall.
An old wooden counter. Over it, a white cloth. Three small wooden boxes. Inside, magic bandages made by the dwarves of Asora, laid out one by one with care.
He'd put up the sign himself the day before.
The Kuzunoha Company.
Four characters on a signboard, catching the morning sun, glinting softly.
"...Right, then."
Makoto adjusted the position of his mask.
A black cloth mask. It was there to hide his face. There was no need to show the world the face the goddess had sneered at and called ugly.
(Besides—a merchant doesn't sell his face. He sells his goods.)
He told himself that, and took his place behind the counter.
Mirage Plaza was the great market at the center of the city of Tsige.
Every morning at dawn, merchants gathered and set out their stalls. Vegetables, fish, meat, cloth, weapons, magic stones. Every conceivable thing was sold in this plaza.
Makoto's shop was at the eastern edge.
It faced a busy street, but there were so many stalls that it was hardly a spot that stood out.
"Hey, look at that. Another weird shop's opened up."
"The Kuzunoha Company? Never heard of 'em."
"Bandages, apparently. Says they heal wounds."
"Ha. Cut-rate magic potions, more like. Obviously."
A few men passing by glanced over, laughed, and walked on.
Makoto let it wash over him in silence.
(It's always like this at first.)
A shop that's just opened doesn't get customers right away.
And yet—
Something pricked at him, deep in his chest.
He remembered the letter that had arrived the night before.
*"Know your place, you insect. I'll destroy everything you hold dear."*
That goddess's handwriting. That sickening presence.
(I'm opening a business here. I don't intend to lose to you.)
Makoto quietly clenched his fist.
That was when it happened.
"Lord Mito—!!!"
From across the plaza, silver hair streaming behind her, a woman came running at full speed.
Her long hair was tied back, a katana at her hip. Her golden eyes shone in the morning sun.
Misumi Tomoe.
Makoto's first retainer.
"Lord Mito! I've kept you waiting! This Tomoe has arrived to serve!"
Tomoe came to a dead stop in front of Makoto, dropped to one knee, and bowed her head like a retainer in a period drama.
The merchants and passersby around them stared, startled.
"...Hey, Tomoe."
Makoto pressed a hand to his forehead.
"Yes! What is it, Lord Mito?"
"Stop calling me that. How many times do I have to say it?"
"My apologies. But Lord Mito is Lord Mito, and so I cannot change how I address you."
"...Forget it."
Makoto heaved a deep sigh.
Ever since coming to this world, Tomoe had called Makoto "Lord Mito" and modeled her behavior on Kaku-san, the loyal retainer from the old dramas.
The reason being that Tomoe was a period-drama maniac.
A troublesome dragon who loved Japanese culture above all else, and who tried to drag period-drama flourishes into everything, even into Asora itself.
"And so, Lord Mito. Today, this Tomoe shall serve as your shop's bodyguard!"
Tomoe rose briskly to her feet and put a hand on the hilt of her sword.
"Bodyguard?"
"Indeed! Should any scoundrel dare to target the Kuzunoha Company's wares, this Tomoe shall deal with them! On Lord Mito's inro, I swear it!"
"I don't have an inro. ...Well, having you here does help."
Makoto gave a small laugh.
Tomoe's grandiose way of speaking always left him exasperated.
But her loyalty—that was the real thing.
This dragon would gladly lay down her life for Makoto.
(...I'm grateful.)
He murmured it in his heart.
"Now then, Lord Mito! I shall go and draw in the customers!"
With that, Tomoe planted herself squarely in front of the stall.
Then she drew a deep breath.
"Come one, come all! Step right up and take a look! The Kuzunoha Company's magic bandages! A dream of a product that seals any wound tight! Today only, we're offering free samples!"
Tomoe's voice rang out across the plaza.
Passersby stopped in their tracks, startled.
"What's with that woman? She's awfully energetic."
"Bandages? Magic ones?"
"Says they close any wound—is that for real?"
A small crowd began to gather, bit by bit.
Makoto watched and smiled wryly.
(Guess I'll leave the hawking to Tomoe.)
She was far more effective at it than he'd be.
"Hey, miss, do those actually work?"
A middle-aged man called out to Tomoe.
"But of course! These are masterpieces crafted with painstaking care by the dwarves of Asora! Not a single word of falsehood in them!"
"Huh... alright, I'll take one."
"Thank you kindly!"
Tomoe smiled warmly and took the silver coin.
Makoto watched quietly.
(...Tomoe's cut out for this business.)
That brightness, that warmth that drew people in.
Things he didn't have.
Tomoe kept at it after that.
"Come now, young adventurer! How about a bandage to accompany your travels? Wounds are best healed quickly, after all!"
"And you, madam, with the little one! How about one for your child's scraped knee? Just stick it on and the pain will ease!"
Drawn by Tomoe's voice, customers came one after another.
Within an hour, more than half of the bandages they'd prepared had sold.
"...That's impressive."
Makoto was honestly impressed.
"Heh. Lord Mito, when this Tomoe is on the job, this is how it goes."
Tomoe puffed out her chest proudly.
That was when it happened.
"Hey, you."
A sour voice came from the neighboring stall.
Makoto looked—the merchant selling spices next door was glaring at him.
A fat man, somewhere in his forties.
"Your goods over there—do they actually work?"
"...What's that supposed to mean?"
Makoto asked quietly.
"What's it supposed to mean? It means exactly what it sounds like. 'Seals any wound'—that's a shady claim if I ever heard one. I'm asking if you're selling fakes."
The man's voice was deliberately loud.
The customers around them began to murmur.
"...They're not fakes. They're genuine—made by the dwarves of Asora."
Makoto spoke in a calm voice.
"Oh, dwarves, is it. Who's gonna believe that? Your shop wasn't here until yesterday. You pop up out of nowhere selling magic bandages? Don't make me laugh."
The man smirked, and pinched up one of the bandages from Makoto's counter with his fingers.
"This flimsy scrap of cloth is supposed to seal wounds? Ridiculous."
"You insolent—!"
Tomoe's voice cut sharply through the air.
Her silver hair swayed softly.
Her golden eyes fixed on the man like arrows.
"I will not permit such talk about Lord Mito's goods! Did you think this Tomoe would simply stand here and let that pass?"
Tomoe's hand reached for the hilt at her hip.
In that instant, the air went taut and sharp.
The customers around them all shrank back at once.
"...Tomoe."
Makoto spoke quietly.
"This is a place of business. Don't draw your sword."
"But Lord Mito!"
"I said enough."
Makoto's voice was low, brooking no argument.
Tomoe bit her lip in frustration, then slowly let her hand fall from the sword.
Makoto turned back to the neighboring merchant.
"...You sell spices, don't you."
"Yeah, so what?"
"Good scent. You must deal in quality goods."
Makoto studied the spices lined up on the man's counter.
"Huh? Oh—yeah... well, sure."
The man, suddenly praised, seemed thrown off and fumbled for words.
"My bandages are the same. Quality goods. If you don't believe it, try them."
Makoto took a bandage from the counter and held it out to the man.
"This is a sample. See for yourself. If it doesn't work, you're welcome to come complain."
"...Hmph."
The man took the bandage and stared at it for a while.
"...Fine. I'll try it, and that's all. But if it doesn't work, you're out of this plaza."
"Yeah. That's fine."
Makoto nodded quietly.
The man said nothing more and went back to his own shop.
"...Lord Mito."
Tomoe stood beside him and spoke in a low voice.
"Was that wise? Handing a sample to a rude man like that..."
"It's fine. With a guy like that, it's faster to let him use it than to argue him down."
Makoto spoke calmly.
"If it really works, he won't have anything to say. That's good enough."
"...You are kind, Lord Mito."
"I'm not kind. I just hate hassle."
Makoto let out a small breath.
Just then, a man stepped forward from the crowd.
A young adventurer, clad in leather armor, a sword at his hip.
"Hey, you."
The man stood before Makoto and roughly snatched up a bandage from the counter.
"Who'd trust a shady shop like this? Bandages that heal wounds? Give me a break."
With that, he slammed the bandage down on the counter.
*Bang*—the sound rang out.
"Hey, you!"
Tomoe raised her voice again.
But Makoto held her back with one hand.
"...Try it first, then talk."
Makoto spoke quietly, clearly.
"If you think it won't work, then don't use it. But denying it without even trying—that's just prejudice."
"Huh? What'd you say?"
The adventurer glared at Makoto.
"I've been an adventurer in this city for over ten years. I know exactly what shady goods look like. There's no way something sold by some newcomer like you is the real deal."
"...I see."
Makoto said it shortly.
"Then you're someone who thinks his own experience is the only truth. A man with an old head who can't trust anything new."
"Wh—what did you say?!"
The man's face went bright red.
"My bandages can't be measured by your rules of thumb. Try them and you'll understand. Don't try them, and you'll never understand. ...That's all."
Makoto finished quietly.
"...Tch."
The man clicked his tongue, and with the bandage still in hand, vanished into the crowd.
"...Lord Mito."
Tomoe peered anxiously into Makoto's face.
"Are you alright? Having to listen to people like that say whatever they please..."
"I'm fine. I'm used to it."
Makoto gave a small laugh.
"...It's faster to silence them with results than to talk back. Right?"
"...Lord Mito."
Tomoe's golden eyes wavered.
"You truly are a remarkable person, Lord Mito. Someone like me would have ended up drawing her sword on those people."
"You're fine the way you are. I'll stop you. So you just stay as you are."
Makoto spoke quietly.
"...That's our division of roles, isn't it."
"...Lord Mito."
Tomoe bowed her head deeply.
"What gracious words. This Tomoe shall serve you for all her life, Lord Mito."
"...You're so dramatic."
Makoto smiled wryly.
But deep in his chest, something warmed, just a little.
(...I'm glad Tomoe's here.)
He thought it in his heart.
The sun tilted, and dusk came to Mirage Plaza.
The sky was dyed orange.
The merchants began packing up their stalls one after another.
Makoto was getting ready to close up shop as well.
"Lord Mito, you've worked hard today."
Tomoe said, carefully tucking the bandages from the counter back into their wooden boxes.
"Yeah, you did well too. You were a big help."
Makoto thanked her honestly.
"Such undeserved words! This Tomoe will draw in even more customers tomorrow!"
"...Don't overdo it."
Makoto gave a small laugh.
That was when it happened.
"...Hm?"
Makoto suddenly noticed a man standing in the street in front of the shop.
He wore a white hood pulled low, hiding his face.
The man was slowly making to pass by the front of the shop.
But his pace was far too slow, too unnatural.
From beneath the hood, the man's gaze was fixed on Makoto's shop, observing.
The box of bandages left on the counter.
The stock piled at the back of the shop.
And Makoto and Tomoe themselves.
The man licked over all of it with a clinging gaze, then slowly started walking again.
Before long, he disappeared into the crowd.
"...Lord Mito."
Tomoe stood beside him and spoke in a low voice.
"That man just now... he had the scent of someone who's no ordinary sort."
"...Yeah."
Makoto nodded quietly.
"Lord Mito, that man was scouting our st
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