That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

”Now then, please, quench your thirst. I am certain you are all still deeply bewildered. But for now, simply listen... I will explain everything.”

The elderly man, who introduced himself as Pope Ishtar, didn’t wait for their consent. He smoothly launched into a grand, sweeping explanation of the world of Tortus and the absolute authority of their god, Ehit, who had personally orchestrated their summoning. Ishtar proudly declared that because they hailed from a higher plane of existence, their latent physical and magical potential would far surpass that of anyone native to this world.

Boiled down to its simplest terms: they had been drafted. They were violently pulled from their homes to fight a desperate, centuries-long war against a demonic race in the south that was actively pushing humanity to the brink of extinction.

”Mighty Lord Ehit has called you heroes here to save us from this apocalyptic crisis!”

Ishtar’s voice dripped with religious fervor, speaking as if they had all just won the lottery. He fully expected them to drop to their knees in gratitude, completely glossing over the fact that their safety was absolutely not guaranteed and that they had a very high statistical probability of dying violently on a foreign battlefield.

Fortunately, the students hadn’t completely lost their minds yet. They were still in the denial phase, convinced this was an incredibly elaborate, highly illegal prank.

Bang!

Their petite homeroom teacher, Aiko Hatayama, slammed her hands furiously against the polished marble table, her face flushed with protective anger.

”What kind of sick joke is this?! I have never heard of a TV reality show going this far! Do you honestly think you can do whatever you want without permission?! You should know I can and will have you arrested for the mass kidnapping of minors!”

”Gosh, you’re taking this way too seriously, Ai-chan~!” one of the students teased nervously.

”Yeah, but... for a TV show, this really is a bit much...”

”Come on, let’s just go home right now!”

The students clamored in agreement. No one denied Aiko’s fierce demand to leave. The opulent grandeur of the cathedral felt suffocating, and an undeniable, creeping dread was beginning to settle in their stomachs.

”Hmm... how truly unfortunate...”

Ishtar didn’t seem the least bit affected by their anger. His warm, grandfatherly smile remained perfectly plastered on his face, entirely unbothered by the fact that he was actively participating in human trafficking. ”Perhaps... if you step outside and see for yourselves, you will finally understand.”

As the murmurs of confusion grew louder, Kouki Amanogawa stepped forward. Radiating his usual, sickeningly bright protagonist aura, he began earnestly questioning Ishtar, seeking confirmation about the mechanics of this ”other world.” Ishtar simply chuckled, his eyes gleaming as he realized the handsome, naive boy was already swallowing the bait hook, line, and sinker.

Suzuki remained entirely silent. He intentionally kept his head down, maintaining a low profile. He knew he was currently weak. His Manager AI might have optimized his human body to the absolute peak of athletic perfection, but against actual magic? Against a god? He was painfully aware that Ishtar, this kingdom, and every single soul in this world were nothing more than the disposable playthings of this ”Lord Ehit.”

Yet, beneath his calm exterior, a violent, boiling rage threatened to consume him.

His life had been perfect. He had meticulously calculated every single step. He had sacrificed his youth, slept barely two hours a night, pushed his body to the absolute breaking point to win national marathons, and secured his elite ticket to Tokyo University. He had crawled out of the mud of orphanage life to guarantee himself a luxurious, peaceful future.

And in a single, blinding flash of light, it had all been stolen from him.

What absolute bullshit!

As Kouki and Ishtar continued their painfully cliché exposition dump about humans, demons, and beastmen, Suzuki gritted his teeth. He knew exactly how this would play out.

Kouki, completely detached from the brutal realities of war, would eagerly embrace the role of the ”Hero” and drag everyone into a bloodbath. Nagumo would inevitably fall into the abyss, becoming an edgy, revenge-driven monster. The rest of the class? They would just blindly follow Kouki, seduced by whatever magical ”cheat” classes the world handed them, accepting their fate like obedient sheep.

Suzuki absolutely refused to be a sheep. Why should he bleed for a world that kidnapped him? What was the point of all his agonizing hard work if he was just forced to start over as a disposable foot soldier?!

For a fraction of a second, his carefully maintained, stoic mask slipped. His handsome face twisted into a dark, terrifying scowl of pure, unadulterated anger.

”Are you okay?”

A soft, hesitant voice broke through his dark thoughts. Shizuku leaned in close, her warm fingers gently brushing against his clenched fist.

”...”

Suzuki forced himself to exhale, smoothing his expression. He uncurled his fist and gently patted the back of Shizuku’s soft hand, his thumb lightly grazing her smooth skin. ”I’m fine. Don’t worry. I will make sure you get out of this okay.”

”Thank you...”

Shizuku visibly relaxed at his touch, a faint, lovely flush coloring her cheeks. She still hadn’t fully grasped the horrifying reality of their situation. ”It just has to be a joke. We can go back to Tokyo later.”

”Yeah.”

Their quiet, intimate exchange was suddenly drowned out by a chorus of panicked, terrified screams.

The heavy cathedral doors had opened, leading out onto a massive, sweeping balcony. What the students saw completely shattered their reality. It wasn’t the neon-lit skyline of Tokyo, nor was it a hidden movie set.

It was a literal, infinite ocean of thick white clouds directly below them. Jagged, 3,000-meter-high mountain peaks pierced through the cloud cover like floating islands. There were no skyscrapers, no airplanes, no smog—just an endless, terrifyingly vast, magical wilderness.

”W-Where is this?!”

”I-Is this real?! I have to be dreaming!”

”W-We’re actually in another world...?!”

Reading about an Isekai in a manga was fun. Actually standing on the edge of a three-kilometer drop in a foreign dimension was paralyzing. Several students’ legs completely gave out, dropping them to the marble floor in sobbing heaps.

”W-We can go back, right?!”

”That’s right! Bring us home right now!”

”I WANT TO GO HOME!”

”Regrettably, that is entirely beyond my power,” Ishtar said, his shallow, unfeeling smile never wavering despite the teenagers’ mental breakdowns. ”Lord Ehit summoned you here. I do not possess the power to send you back. Whether you can ever return home is entirely up to Lord Ehit’s whim... so, let us all do our absolute best to save this world to earn his favor, shall we?”

Despair, terror, and blinding panic washed over the students.

”NO WAY! I WON’T LET YOU FORCE CHILDREN TO FIGHT!” Aiko screamed, stepping fiercely between her sobbing students and the Pope. Despite her petite, fragile frame, she spread her arms wide, shielding them. ”IF YOU WANT TO MAKE THEM FIGHT, YOU WILL HAVE TO GET THROUGH ME FIRST!”

”Why do you resist? Lord Ehit has chosen them. You should be swelling with pride,” Ishtar sighed, tilting his head in genuine, sociopathic confusion.

”I AM NOT LETTING YOU USE MY STUDENTS AS CHILD SOLDIERS—”

”Wait, Aiko-sensei!”

Kouki suddenly stepped forward, his fists clenched, his eyes practically sparkling with blind, reckless determination.

”Your childhood friend is about to do something incredibly stupid,” Suzuki murmured.

Even in the midst of the chaos, Suzuki maintained his grip on Shizuku, subtly pulling her closer to his side. He knew exactly what Kouki was going to do.

”Oh, god...” Shizuku pressed a hand to her forehead, groaning softly. She knew Kouki’s hero complex better than anyone.

And, exactly on cue:

”I believe that we were all chosen to be here for a reason!” Kouki shouted passionately, turning to face his terrified classmates. ”This world is in dire need of our help! I can’t just turn my back and ignore people who are suffering! Let me... no, let us fight, Sensei!”

”I knew you were going to say that, Kouki!” Ryutaro chimed in, pounding his fists together. ”Count me in!”

Shizuku and Suzuki stood in absolute silence, watching Kouki effortlessly weaponize his charisma to guilt-trip a group of terrified teenagers into becoming front-line infantry.

”I-I’m going to do it! I’ll fight too!”

”Yeah! We’re heroes!”

”Let me fight!”

”Tanaka-kun...”

A soft, trembling body suddenly pressed tightly against Suzuki’s other side. Kaori Shirasaki grabbed his sleeve, her beautiful eyes wide with intense, suffocating panic. She watched her classmates cheering for war as if they had all just been violently brainwashed by a cult.

She was terrified. Shizuku was trembling.

Suzuki didn’t hesitate. He instinctively wrapped his strong arms around both girls, pulling them flush against his chest.

The sudden, deeply intimate contact sent a jolt through all three of them. Shizuku gasped softly as her back pressed firmly against his solid, muscular torso, while Kaori found her face buried against his shoulder. The tantalizing, plush softness of the girls’ developing figures pressed desperately against him, their sweet scents—vanilla, lilies, and nervous sweat—filling his senses. Even in a life-or-death situation, the intense, yielding warmth of the two most beautiful girls in school clinging to him for dear life was undeniably, dangerously alluring.

But Suzuki kept his composure. He became their immovable anchor in the storm.

”Thank you, everyone! Let’s team up and save this world! Then, once we win, we’ll all go home together!” Kouki cheered, raising his fist to the heavens.

”OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!” the class roared back, completely intoxicated by the delusion.

As the cheers echoed across the mountain peaks, Suzuki’s eyes locked onto Ishtar. For a fraction of a second, the Pope’s holy facade slipped, revealing a dark, deeply satisfied, predatory smile.

I’m going to kill that old man, Suzuki decided internally.

He leaned his head down, his lips brushing tantalizingly close to the delicate shells of Shizuku and Kaori’s ears. He could feel them both shiver at his breath.

”Ignore Kouki,” Suzuki whispered, his deep, rumbling voice vibrating against them, offering a dark, intoxicating promise of safety. ”I will handle this. Just stay close to me, and stay completely quiet for a while.”

”Um...” Kaori nodded, her hands gripping his shirt tightly.

”Okay,” Shizuku breathed, leaning her weight entirely against his chest.

Surrounded by a cult of eager, brainwashed child soldiers, Suzuki stood silently with the two beauties pressed against him. He had successfully secured his allies. Now, there was only one massive, terrifying variable left to account for.

What the hell was his magical ”Job” going to be?

---

His job is normal.