Desmond jolted awake, gasping.
"GAHH– No more debates!'
The stink of salt and rot filled his lungs. His back ached. Rough wood pressed against his skin. Around him, men snored and muttered in their sleep, bodies packed tightly together in the workers' barracks.
Ah… right.
He rubbed his face with grimy hands.
The docks…
He was surprised to be awake in the middle of the night after a day of hard work.
He let out a slow breath.
I had a strange dream, he thought. A council. Monsters arguing. Mountains of paperwork…
He frowned, trying to grasp the fading images.
Leyla was there too.
He turned his head.
Leyla slept beside him, her back turned, breathing softly. Lying there, exhausted and dirt-stained, she looked so fragile. A young woman like her breaking her body just to survive.
The world does not deserve half-elves. - tought Desmong
She murmured something unintelligible in her sleep.
Whatever it was, it sounded peaceful.
Desmond studied his hands. Scarred. Calloused. Years of hard labor had carved themselves into his skin. He glanced down at his clothes, stiff with salt and grime.
What a fall, he thought.
Once, he had been part of the Hero's party. Once, he had fought beside legends. Now he breaks his back for scraps. And even that it's getting halved. Ever since railways were introduced, the sea has become less profitable.
Of course. The Hero again.
Magic was a microtransaction now. Three copper coins to light a fire, that's half a day's work for many people. Fifty gold coins for a fireball. And they still call that progress.
Bitterness welled up in his chest.
He must be living like a king right now. With his princes and his harem.
Some people in the port learned I was once in his party. They have been inundating me with questions about it.
"How is the Hero?"
"Is it true that he slew a Dragon?"
"How did it make you feel to be in the presence of such a valiant warrior?"
When I finally thought I had forgotten about him. Now, he is crawling back into my mind.
Desmond clicked his tongue and leaned back against his mat.
It was like that since we were kids. He was born rich and popular, and I was…decent. Decent family, decent grades, decent everything.
Somehow, we ended up as friends.
I endured holding the belief that people like him peak early.
I was looking forward to him getting fat and bald. His midlife crisis.
Instead, he got summoned to another world as their Chosen One.
Demond got on his side and covered his head with the sheet.
….
"This stinks!" uttered Desmond, getting out of the cover.
"Shut up," murmured a large man sleeping next to him, "trying to sleep here."
"S-Sorry…" whispered Desmond, flustered and frustrated immediately that he had to apologize.
He leaned on his back, sheet to his belly, hands outside next to his body. He was looking at the ceiling, trying hard to contain his tears.
I would kill for a soft bed and some clean sheets right now…
His thoughts betrayed him again.
One time, the hero complained that silk itched.
Desmond rolls to his side.
When we got summoned here, I was excited. An RPG adventure in another world? Are you kidding me?! A dream come true for a gamer...
But then the Goddess was like:
"Who are you?"
"Ups… It seems I summoned you by mistake together with the Hero!"
"Can't go back! Here are some support skills as consolation."
"Support the hero. Te~He!"
"She didn't even apologize!" said Desmond, frustrated.
"SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP!!!'' roared a large guy sleeping next to him, while punching him in the belly.
''S-Sow-Sorrry…" answered Desmond, holding his stomach.
Other people woke up due to the commotion, but they went back to sleep seconds later. Leyla was sleeping soundly.
Why is it like this? He did nothing and got rewarded for everything. Where is my reward? Does hard work mean nothing?
Desmond turns to his side while trying to fall asleep.
Someone farts in the room.
I bet that the only time when the Hero shares a bed with more people, it's just naked gorgeous women. Meanwhile, I am stuck in a small room, with 20 smelly guys and an workoholick elf.
Leyla is sleeping peacefully.
Desmond turns on his back.
He used to say: 'We are best friends! Let's be together forever!' Well, if it's like that, why am I here, and he is there? If I live in the gutter, should he be here too? Isn't that what friends are for?
Someone woke up, walked slowly in the room, and started pissing in a bucket in the corner of the room. The room is silent. Only the sound of piss could be heard. He then returned to sleep.
I want to screw him over! I want him to get a taste of my reality! Rich spoiled bastard! He should taste dirt! If the world doesn't want to humble him, I want to do it myself!
TO HELL WITH EVERYTHING…
His eyes closed as exhaustion set in.
What do you think? Chairwoman Secretary—
He froze.
His eyes widened.
He shot upright.
"That stupid dream…" he muttered.
A buried memory, him and the Hero camping, crept for just a moment.
He smiled in his sleep back then. Like everything would work out.
A slow grin crept onto his face.
"…gave me an idea."
He reached under his pillow and pulled out a small pouch. A few bronze coins clinked together inside.
He stood quietly, careful not to wake the others.
"Should be enough for paper and a pen," he whispered.
Two days later, a crowd gathered at the wooden gate leading to the docks.
A single sheet of paper had been nailed to it.
Crude. Uneven. Written in haste.
But impossible to ignore.
The crowd was gazing at it in silence.
The air was cold, but nobody feelt it's sting anymore.
In the eyes of a female half-elf, the embers of fire were setting ablaze… The words on the paper sent thunder through her bones.
TO THE WORKERS OF THE WORLD!
UNITE!!!
Records would later state:
In the year 632 of the Aeon Era, the age of peace that followed the Hero Theon Goldrain's victory over the Demon Lord was shaken by a workers' revolt in the dockyard. At the center stood Desmond Steel, former member of the Hero's Party and former best friend of the Hero, and fellow summoned from another world.
The cause of the unrest was a text that would come to be known as The Communist Manifesto of Steel.
The roars of the workers rose as one.
REVOLUTION!
The world will never be the same.
End of Prologue.