With Zerif’s rapid exit from the dining room, Heron watched as the young man had left in a jiffy. What was that all about?

  For a moment, the dining room seemed to chill a few degrees with the tense atmosphere, but the feeling dissipated when the laughter continued between Desmonte and Eugen. Larry fidgeted, flicking his head towards the doorway where Zerif had left and Herschel wiped his mouth neatly with a handkerchief. Heron set his fork down while Lucifer inhaled another sashimi, its paws excitedly patting the table. All seemed to be well, minus Zerif.

  “I give, I give!” Desmonte laughed, dodging a flying carrot chunk that flew past his face.

  Eugen grinned in victory, his fork raised as if ready to trebuchet Desmonte with another carrot chunk. “Nobody expects the carrot man to be this phenomenal with flinging carrots.”

  This earned a surrender from Desmonte as he raised both hands in the air while Larry scooted further away from him to avoid the onslaught of a vegetable assault.`

  Herschel sighed as he stood up with his empty plate, “I expect you’ll clean up after yourselves, unless you would like another rat infestation.” Then he exited the dining room.

  Rat infestation? Heron paled. Right, this was some medieval era isekai setting, of course there were rat infestations. Probably diseases too. Since he’d settled in this evening, for a moment he had forgotten the survival instincts he’d built up the past few months while living in this new world. He did not want to catch the plague—

  Seeing the opportunity arise, Larry rapidly stood up. “I-I’ll start cleaning up in the kitchen.” Larry quickly excused himself, scampering away before Desmonte could drag him into another one of his antics.

  Suddenly, it was just the four of them—Heron, Lucifer, Desmonte, and Eugen—and the dinner table was quiet besides the sounds of their forks clinking against their plates. It seemed the two younger men had decided to call it quits on the silliness now that there was no one left watching besides Heron.

  Clearing his throat, Eugen turned to Heron on his right. “You know, Zerif meant well. It’s not a bad thing that you’re here as a farmer with us. I know he made it seem like it was a bad thing to not have magic, but it ain’t so bad.”

  Oh, that wasn’t what Heron had been thinking but he nodded, chewing with his mouth full. He wasn’t going to be the one to break it to him that well, he did have magic. Sort of. If summoning potatoes counted.

  “Obviously, I have no clue what it's like to be a provisional citizen, I was born and raised here.” Eugen shrugged as he stabbed a carrot. “But I’m sure it's similar to what's expected of all citizens. We’re meant to choose a profession as soon as we finish basic schooling. Non-magical essence compatibility just makes us regular folks, and we’ve got jobs that need to be done, whether that’s farming, blacksmithing, or trade skills–we all contribute one way or another.”

  “Right, I figured I could help out with farming since I have some experience with that.” If Heron could even call it experience since he had kind of ‘cheated’ with his magic. Speeding up the growth of crops and summoning crops themselves seemed a bit like hacking life.

  “Besides, the whole magic thing seems like a hassle.” Eugen went on, swallowing. “I’m not so much of a nerd about it as Zerif is, but I can tell it's a whole thing. Being a farmer? That’s simple. No need to go through schooling, testing, proving your worth, and working with the king.”

  “Yeah, we boo magic here.” Desmonte laughed, waving a forked sashimi.

  Heron tried to hide his grimace as he nodded along, eating the last piece of broccoli off his plate. So much for using magic, it didn’t seem like the perfect idea if the other farmers weren’t the biggest fans of it. Earlier, Zerif had also mentioned the School of Essence and a magical license. Surely this meant that magic did have some sort of regulation in this kingdom?

  Heron did not want to go to magical school and get a license.

  Did that make him some sort of forbidden user? Was he breaking the law if he used magic? He contemplated this quietly as Desmonte went on to talk about how magic made muscles smaller or something while flexing and Eugen laughed along. Heron had already almost gotten in trouble with the law once, and he wasn’t about to do it again.

  At least, he didn’t want to get caught breaking the rules.

  While the king was known to be ‘trigger happy’ in Heron’s book, there was only a risk of decapitation if he was… caught, right? So the reasonable solution? Don’t break the law or don’t get caught.

  Somehow, he’d become a provisional citizen and was able to enter the Farmer’s Guild. He wasn’t sure how that worked considering he had technically broken the law before entering the kingdom, but he assumed Alice and Serafina had their reasons for mixing up the story so that he was a provisional citizen before being prosecuted. Something something about not falling under the intergalactic laws.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Regardless, Heron had almost gotten in trouble with the law and still had community service to fulfill, but nothing bad had happened. Yet. And while his self defense skills were as useful as pelting a dragon with a potato, he was still capable of surviving. In addition, he wasn’t a risk taker. Until now.

  Since who could resist using Speed-Gro on their crops?

  “So Heron, earlier you mentioned you just became a provisional citizen and had met Lucifer in your hometown.” Eugen peered at him curiously.

  Heron tried not to choke on his carrot. At the beginning of the meal, the others had bombarded him with questions, and he’d kept his answers vague. As he had expected, it had been wise for him to keep his responses as ambiguous as possible. He just hadn’t expected Eugen to circle back.

  “Why did you come to Morningstar anyway?”

  There was no way he could tell Eugen that he was tried as a criminal earlier today at their courthouse. But he also couldn’t lie.

  “I was kidnapped by a dragon and brought here against my will.”

  Both Eugen and Desmonte stared at him and he cleared his throat. Then Eugen laughed as Desmonte snorted.

  “Yeah, right! And potatoes rain from the skies.” Desmonte smirked, pointing his fork at Heron. “Nah, you totally came here to find a better life and a wife, eh?”

  Heron’s carrot went down the wrong pipe and he coughed, wheezing as he pounded his chest.

  Eugen grinned and shook his head, “Not everyone wants that, Desmonte. You should lay off on Zerif and Heron, they’re our newest additions that have yet to run off.”

  “Not my fault that the newest recruits are always so soft.” Desmonte snorted, taking another bite. As he chewed, he went on. “Zerif doesn’t even want to be here, thinks he’s too good for us.”

  Heron glanced towards the door leading out of the dining room. Neither Zerif, Larry, or Herschel could be heard, and it didn’t look like they were coming back anytime soon.

  Eugen shrugged, grabbing another piece of sashimi. “Maybe you should try speaking to Zerif sometime instead of messing with him. You might be surprised by what you find.”

  “I’m good, I ain’t that nosy.” Desmonte snorted, finishing his bite. “Y’all be telling me things anyway. James literally never shuts up about the missus and his kiddos.”

  “He has a wife and kids?” Heron asked, clearing his throat. The perfect moment to steer the direction away from himself!

  “Oh yeah, happily married and he loves hosting brunch on rest days.” Desmonte waved his fork. “The kiddos be toddling around, little twerps will be running before we know it.”

  Eugen laughed, “That’s why James never stays for dinner. He’s already pushing it by praising Yel before he heads home for the day. He genuinely thinks it helps our sector thrive. Maxwell never joins, calls it hocus pocus but he does perform well every season.”

  “Wait, so where’s Maxwell?” Heron had noticed the fellow was missing alongside James.

  “He’s also home with his lady.” Desmonte said flatly as he ate another bite.

  Heron watched Desmonte appear to sulk. Was it safe to assume that these two were bachelors since they were here at dinner with him and not home?

  Desmonte is thinking about a lady. Some lady named Ester? Lucifer’s voice rang in Heron’s head. It seems like they are not getting along?

  That would explain Desmonte’s apparent bitterness as Heron watched the guy stab another vegetable like it had insulted his family.

  Eugen glanced over to Heron, “What about you, Heron? Do you have a family? Or was Desmonte right about you searching for a wife?”

  Heron let out a nervous chuckle. Now, he didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing that he didn’t have a wife from his first life. It was a great thing he didn’t just get hit by Truck-kun for absolutely no reason and leave his wife and kids alone. But maybe it was a bad thing that he was in his mid-30s without having had a single prospect or even the opportunity to get married and have kids.

  Just what had he been doing with his life?

  “Family… they’re busy.” This probably wasn’t a lie. Probably. He chuckled to play it off the half-smile, “Desmonte is right, I definitely came here searching for a wife.”

  This made Eugen and Desmonte whoop and holler. Desmonte laughed, “Yeah, send us an invitation to the celebration when you seal the deal.”

  With that, the three of them continued to banter over the rest of dinner while Lucifer stuffed itself with many, many pieces of sashimi.

  I ate too much. Lucifer’s voice groaned in Heron’s head as it went completely limp in Heron’s arms.

  Heron let out a small huff of amusement as he carried the heavily stuffed rabbit-dragon in his arms as he kicked the door shut behind him.

  Home sweet home, Room Nine of Sector Nine.

  Plopping down on his bed, Heron dropped Lucifer in his lap as he flopped back. With his back pressed into the mattress, Heron stared at the wooden ceiling, the room illuminated dimly by the lamps-without-a-power-cord that were likely powered by magical essence.

  This was probably the longest day of his life.

  Besides the days that he had worked several days of overtime in a row and stayed overnight at the shady little company, working through the night and the next day. But that didn’t really count; those days were a blur and had sickened him to the core.

  And today?

  He had been kidnapped by a knight elf girl and dragon, and was brought to another planet where he had registered as a provisional citizen of a kingdom he had just met.

  Followed by a trip to the courthouse, avoided an audience with the chopping king, and convinced the judge to not fine him or jail him and give him community service instead.

  Ended up joining the Farmer’s Guild, teleported via being torn into a million pieces and put back together, and entered his new farming lodgehouse via ceremonial summoning of a god he’d never heard of where his new guildmates had danced around with… vegetable masks?!

  After receiving his very own room and plotland, Heron and Lucifer learned how it could control its telepathic skills. They barely salvaged dinner by making non-burnt rice, learned about commands for magical essence, and had a totally normal dinner while talking about the history of magical essence with his newfound coworkers.

  Today was probably the best day of his life in a long, long time.

  Draping an arm over his eyes, Heron covered his vision as he let out a deep breath.

  And smiled.

  “Home, sweet home.”

  Just outside the door of Room Nine, breathing a sigh too quiet for Heron to hear, the shadowy figure took a step back. Without a word, the figure walked away, entered Room Eight, and closed the door.