The hero slowly opened his eyes.


    His head throbbed with pain.


    Once his vision cleared, he found himself sitting in what looked like a luxurious office. Across from him sat a man in a suit, smiling calmly.


    The hero tried to move, but his arms and legs were tied to the chair.


    “Finally awake,” the man said. “You slept a lot. Must be tired. You people are fascinating—you murder innocents and still sleep like babies.”


    While the man spoke, the hero scanned the room.


    It looked like a CEO’s office, furnished with polished wood and leather chairs.


    Outside the wide windows stretched peaceful greenery.


    But inside him, pain began to stir again.


    Through gritted teeth, the hero muttered,


    “Who the hell are you?”


    The suited man leaned back.


    “You could say… I’m a relative of that woman you killed and robbed.”


    The hero looked down.


    What was the point of pleading?


    Should he beg for mercy? Pretend to be sorry?


    His head was too cloudy to think clearly.


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    Maybe it was better this way. Maybe this time… he’d get a proper isekai.


    A grin cracked across his face.


    “So what now? You want me to lick your boots? Become your slave?


    No, wait—you’re one of those secret sadists, huh? Gonna chain me up in a basement and torture me?”


    He laughed bitterly.


    “Do whatever you want. I don’t have much time left anyway.


    I did everything I could to survive in this shitty world, and look at me.


    A murderer. A thief. All of this… just because I made a damn wish.”


    His voice rose to a shout.


    “BIG-TITTIED WARRIOR WOMEN! OVERPOWERED ABILITIES! STUPID ROMANCES!


    But me?! I’m the guy who gets tossed into a pile of trash!


    I miss my family! I’m sick of this pain, this world!”


    He paused, breathing heavily.


    The suited man spoke calmly:


    “So… you’re from another world. I thought so.”


    “Yeah…” the hero said, panting.


    “Well, don’t worry about that girl. I never liked her anyway. Honestly, it worked out.


    You see, her father owns a perfume empire. Rich, powerful.


    And my brilliant family thought it’d be a great idea to marry me off to her.


    Classic, right? But I didn’t want to marry that irritating brat.


    So thanks. You did me a favor.”


    The hero was fading fast.


    The pain was too much to bear.


    The man didn’t seem to care.


    “You don’t look so good. What’s wrong?”


    “What do you think?” the hero growled. “I’m dying.”


    With a sigh, the man pulled a small bottle from his drawer.


    The hero recognized it instantly.


    It was identical to the one the high priest had given him.


    The man snapped his fingers, and a servant entered the room.


    Without a word, the servant took the bottle, held the hero’s head, and poured it down his throat.


    The hero drank greedily.


    For all his dramatic talk… he wanted to live.


    When the bottle was empty, the servant stepped back.


    The suited man spoke again:


    “Let’s make a deal.


    Become my dog.


    I’ll feed you, give you medicine, and you keep living.


    Or walk out that door and keep killing Innocent women and robbing strangers. Your call.”


    The hero didn’t hesitate.


    “If I’m gonna be your dog… I want a pack.


    Money. A place to sleep. Food.”


    The man laughed.


    “Of course. My loyal little puppy gets everything.”


    The hero hated those words.


    But he stayed quiet.


    No magical crest appeared on his arm.


    No sudden rage awakening a godlike power.


    Only silence.


    “…Fine,” the hero said. “I’ll do whatever you want.”


    The man turned to the servant.


    “Untie him. Give him a room, food, and medicine.”


    The servant obeyed.


    As he escorted the hero to the door, the man called out one last thing:


    “You know… dogs don’t do noble things.


    Don’t think of yourself as a knight.


    I want you to be a thief.


    A killer.”


    The hero and the servant left the room.


    As they walked through the corridor, the hero chuckled to himself.


    “Looks like I finally found the job I deserve.”


    The servant glanced at him briefly before looking ahead again.


    They arrived at a guest room.


    The servant opened the door.


    “Please wait here. I’ll bring your food and medicine shortly.”


    The hero entered.


    The door closed behind him.


    He sat on the bed and thought.


    And thought.


    And thought...