Chapter 1: We don’t need you anymore

““The ‘kicked-out-of-the-party’ trope… isn’t supposed to be like this…”

Clay sat dejectedly under the bridge,
hands propping up his chin,
staring at the shimmering water reflections.
The young man in bright, fine clothes mirrored on the surface somehow looked haggard and pitiful no matter how he looked at it.

Why though?

Wasn’t he supposed to be unjustly kicked out of the party by an arrogantly blind “Hero” for some bizarre reason,
then依靠 his own abilities build a new team, shine brilliantly, encounter a bunch of beautiful girls,
and finally give those ungrateful former teammates a resounding face-slap?

How come before he even had the chance to show his skills,
he had already fallen to the point of being a penniless vagrant who couldn’t even afford an inn?

Clay picked up a stone and tossed it into the water,
shattering his own reflection.

A middle-aged man carrying a pitchfork over his shoulder and holding a hanging lantern spotted him.
He walked over, looked Clay up and down, and spoke with mild surprise:

“Aren’t you Mr. Clay Sheens, the mage from Miss Rimura’s party?
What are you doing under this bridge so late at night?”

“You know me?”

Clay felt a touch of warmth.
Right now, having someone—anyone—to talk to felt incredibly rare.
Without thinking, he pulled the stranger down to sit beside him and reached for his wineskin.

“Never mind… just drink a couple mouthfuls with me.”

“Sure.”

The considerate middle-aged man didn’t take Clay’s offered cup.
Instead he rummaged briefly in the grass nearby, pulled out his own wineskin, and took a hearty gulp.
Clearly he was a regular visitor to this bridge.

With no energy left to wonder who this man was, Clay simply started pouring out his story.

“I, Clay Sheens, outstanding graduate of the Imperial Royal Academy’s Magic Department,
holder of first-grade licenses as Necromancer, Alchemist, and Potion Master—
tell me, do I not qualify for a Hero’s party?”

“You do.”

“But I got kicked out anyway. The reason… ha, they said I wasn’t ‘versatile enough’!”

Clay swallowed a painful gulp of liquor.

“But fine, whatever, just leaving the party, right? Except…”

Before Clay could unleash the grand speech he had prepared about Rimura the Hero and her companions,
a thick stack of parchment was shoved into his hands.

「According to contract stipulations, Mr. Clay Sheens’ strength is insufficient and abilities not comprehensive enough to meet party requirements. He is hereby automatically removed from the Glazed Sword Party. Remaining salary: 7 silver 2 copper.」

「Mr. Clay Sheens, the clause in your Imperial student loan requiring five consecutive years of service as a mage has been breached. Our company will therefore revoke your interest reduction benefit and shorten the repayment period.」

「Due to your current unemployed status and lowered credit score, our company will terminate the lease services for your Ice Crystal Staff, Archmage Robe, Enchanted Necklace, and other equipment.」

「You no longer meet the Adventurer Association’s criteria for trusted adventurers. We will cancel your privilege of installment payment for guild dues. Please pay union fees on time, or you will lose access to commission acceptance and notification services.」

……

“So I just get fired by the Hero, and suddenly the inn won’t let me stay,
my student loan repayment period gets shortened, they won’t even let me keep renting my gear…
What the hell is this? Without equipment what commissions can I even take!

Can you believe it? Five whole years as a mage in the Hero’s party,
and after paying off all the penalty fees for broken commissions, I’m left with practically nothing in my pocket?”

Clay practically roared out his confusion and bitterness.
The middle-aged man nodded, looking genuinely sympathetic, and clinked his wineskin against Clay’s again.

After a moment of silence, the man spoke up proactively:

“Things like this are pretty common around here, especially for young people without savings.
But it’s not hopeless. With your abilities, you can just find another job now—your future is still bright, isn’t it?”

“…”

Clay gave a silent, bitter laugh and drained the last of the wine in one long pull.

He staggered to his feet, let out a weak, skyward howl, then collapsed back down powerlessly.

“I want to, but applying for jobs requires an address. No inn will take me anymore.”

“Then borrow money…”

“Only loan sharks left. Uncle, isn’t borrowing from them basically the same as dying?
I have no job, no credit—I can’t even get a normal loan…”

Hearing this, the middle-aged man realized the poor fellow had truly reached rock bottom.
As just a passing stranger, he could offer no more comfort than a shared sigh.

A gentle wind blew past.

Suddenly Clay scrambled up from the grass and grabbed the middle-aged man’s shoulder.

“Tell me—do I still have a chance to make a comeback?”

“You’re still young.”

The man hesitated slightly. Though he had said something similar earlier, he still gave the reassurance.

Clay gritted his teeth. Right now he desperately needed affirmation—even if it came from a random stranger with zero sincerity.

“Thank you… thank you for being willing to sit here and talk with someone as pathetic as me.
Yeah… after all, I have the ability, I have the education. This is just a temporary setback. There are still plenty of opportunities.”

He managed to rally his spirit again.

At the very least he still had a healthy body.
There were still two silver coins in his pocket.
He could leave this city right now, head to some remote village, find a manor lord or someone, do farm work, slowly save up a little money—
or even find someone willing to invest in him.

Making a comeback wasn’t impossible.

If you really thought about it, his situation wasn’t so different from those classic “kicked-from-the-party” protagonists:
starting from nothing after leaving the team.
At worst he had a student loan hanging over him.

“So what are you planning to do next?”

The kind-hearted middle-aged man asked with concern.

Feeling quite fond of this “uncle” now, Clay decided to treat him as the symbolic first friend of his new life—someone he could chat with from time to time.

“Nowhere to go tonight. I’ll just sleep in the haystack here, then tomorrow I’ll head south, find a manor or something to make a living—
or look for a landlord willing to invest in me.”

“Mm, sounds like a solid plan.”

The middle-aged man nodded approvingly at his idea.

Clay smiled, about to seize the moment and ask the man’s name—
when the other suddenly extended his hand toward him.

What did that mean?

Clay blinked in confusion.

The sky had turned completely dark.
Under the pitch-black bridge, the uncle’s eyes seemed to glint with an oily green, eerie light.

A chill rushed up Clay’s spine.
No matter how he thought about it, that look in the man’s eyes could only be compared to the expression of an Association clerk demanding he hurry up and pay his overdue guild fees.

“Since you plan to stay the night here, you’d better pay the cleaning fee first.
I’m the maintenance keeper of this bridge.”

“Huh?”

Clay’s vision swam; he nearly toppled over.

Moonlight rose.
A translucent, crystal-clear slime crawled out of the river and onto the bank, gleaming under the silver light.

“Are you… extorting me?”

It took Clay a long while to force the words out.

The uncle solemnly pulled out his own license and waved it in front of Clay’s eyes.

“I’ve seen plenty of young people like you.
No cleaning fee, no staying the night.
If you die under this bridge, or drown in the water, or kill yourself—ha… then I’m the one who gets fined.”

Saying so, he pointed the large pitchfork over his shoulder at the slime beside him.

“That fellow’s been my old partner for years.
This month alone it’s eaten at least five corpses.
So—which do you prefer: getting cleaned up by it, or by me?”

Clay’s gaze went blank.
Under the uncle’s urging, he handed over one of his two silver coins.
Then he sat alone under the bridge, staring vacantly into space.

The tiny spark of fighting spirit that had just ignited…
was so easily extinguished.