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

”What job did you get, Suzuki?”

Shizuku leaned in, her voice dropping to a soft, private murmur. She was standing so close that the firm, athletic curve of her thigh pressed flush against his leg. Even through the fabric of their school uniforms, the sudden, undeniable heat radiating from her skin was incredibly distracting.

”Yes, what is it?” Kaori chimed in eagerly, leaning over from his other side.

Kaori possessed absolutely zero concept of personal space. As she tilted her head to look at his status plate, the soft, generous weight of her chest pressed gently but deliberately against his upper arm. A dizzying wave of warmth washed over him, completely saturated with her signature, intoxicating scent of sweet vanilla and white lilies.

Suzuki’s breath hitched slightly at the intense, double-sided temptation, but he forced his face to remain a perfectly unreadable mask.

”Merchant,” he answered truthfully.

”Merchant?!” they both gasped in unison.

For a fraction of a second, the two beauties were entirely dumbfounded. But as they looked up at his calm, calculating eyes hidden behind his glasses, a sudden realization hit them. A man who manipulated everything behind the scenes, strictly optimizing his life for maximum profit and stability... it actually fit him flawlessly.

”Ah, you are a Merchant, Tanaka-kun?”

Out of the surrounding crowd, Kouki Amanogawa—who had been blatantly eavesdropping—stepped forward. He let out a loud, dramatic sigh of relief upon hearing Suzuki’s mundane job class. ”Well, your job definitely makes you completely unable to fight on the front lines. But don’t worry! I’ll protect you and bring you home safely with everyone else!”

Merchant.

As the whispers of Suzuki’s job rippled through the class, a strange, toxic euphoria began to infect the other boys. The bullies—guys whose bleak futures in Japan were practically destined for midnight convenience store shifts or complete unemployment—suddenly felt vastly superior.

Suzuki, the untouchable Tokyo University elite, the national marathon champion who always looked down on them from the absolute pinnacle of high school hierarchy, had violently fallen to the bottom. It gave them a twisted, thrilling high.

Yet, the absolute happiest person in the room was undeniably Kouki.

The fact that his childhood friend, Shizuku, had chosen to date Suzuki was a massive, festering wound to Kouki’s ego. He had always subconsciously treated Shizuku’s presence as a given—a girl who would naturally stay by his side forever. Seeing her beautiful face light up only for Suzuki hit the ”Golden Boy” harder than he cared to admit.

So, when Kouki saw that Suzuki had been branded with a weak, non-combatant job, while he had been gloriously crowned as the Hero, his confidence absolutely skyrocketed.

In Japan, Kouki’s achievements paled in comparison to Suzuki’s superhuman feats. But in this magical world? Kouki was vastly superior. He was explicitly destined by a god to be the ultimate savior!

Kouki stood tall, waiting for the inevitable. He desperately wanted to see Suzuki’s stoic, handsome face crumble. He wanted to see the crushing despair of a man realizing he was no longer the protagonist of his own life.

This was a silent clash at the absolute top of the class hierarchy.

However—

”Thank you, Amanogawa-kun,” Suzuki replied. His handsome face softened into a gentle, incredibly warm, and completely sincere smile. ”I will absolutely rely on you, Hero. Please do your best. Since I know my role isn’t suited for the front lines, I will do my utmost to support you from the shadows.”

”...”

The entire classroom fell dead silent.

They had no idea how to process his reaction. If Suzuki had spat back with venomous hatred, or even shown a flicker of humiliated discomfort, the bullies would have snickered in satisfaction. But he didn’t. He just smiled, gracefully bowing his head in pure gratitude.

Naturally, Kouki wasn’t an evil person; he was just a teenager drunk on his own ego. Faced with such overwhelming, mature humility, his brain completely short-circuited. He had prepared for a fight, not a surrender.

”A-Ah! Um, yes!” Kouki stammered, entirely unable to exert his newfound dominance. ”L-Leave it to me! I will guard your back, Tanaka-kun!”

”I appreciate it, Amanogawa-kun.”

Kouki knew he had technically ”won” the exchange, but he felt incredibly empty and deeply unsatisfied. Flustered, he awkwardly turned and marched off with the knights, eagerly trying to herd the other students into combat training so they could reach the battlefield as soon as possible.

”How incredibly childish,” Shizuku snorted, watching Kouki walk away.

She turned back to Suzuki, her hands instinctively wrapping around his arm. She pulled him closer, her soft, ample curves pressing possessively against his side. ”Are you okay, Suzuki-kun?”

”I’m perfectly fine,” Suzuki reassured her, quietly slipping his status plate into his pocket before anyone could read his hidden skills. ”Honestly, I much prefer being the one pulling the strings behind the curtain rather than sweating in the spotlight.”

”Suzuki-kun...” Kaori murmured, her eyes shimmering with affection as she listened to his honest assessment. She proudly held up her own plate. ”I’m a Priest! Since I’m also a support class, I promise I will do my absolute best to support you too!”

”I appreciate that, Shirasaki-san. But please, don’t force yourself,” Suzuki said, his deep voice taking on a husky, incredibly alluring tone as he gently patted Kaori’s head. ”Everyone has a specific role in this world. If someone on the front lines makes a mistake and gets hurt, it is not your fault. Do not shoulder the blame for their recklessness.”

Suzuki knew Kaori was dangerously empathetic. If Kouki did something stupid and got someone killed, Kaori would absolutely blame herself for not healing them fast enough.

”Don’t worry about any of that,” Shizuku interrupted softly, her dark eyes flashing with a fierce, alluring intensity. She leaned her chin near his shoulder, her breath hot against his neck. ”I awakened as a Swordmaster. Just like you always protected me back home, I will be the one to protect you here.”

”That sounds incredibly reliable, Shizuku.”

”And Sensei will protect you too! Suzuki-kun, let’s do our absolute best at our non-combatant jobs! OOOOH!”

Aiko Hatayama, their petite, clumsy teacher, suddenly pumped her fist in the air, trying her hardest to cheer up the boy she assumed was depressed.

”What job did you get, Sensei?” Suzuki asked.

”Eh? I’m a Farmer! Look!” Aiko proudly held up her plate, revealing a bizarre list of agricultural skills that, to a modern mind, looked capable of sparking a global industrial revolution.

”That is an absolutely incredible job, Sensei.”

Suzuki’s heart skipped a heavy beat. His predatory, corporate instincts immediately flared to life. The sheer monopoly he could build using her skills was staggering.

”R-Really?!” Aiko blushed deeply, entirely unsure of herself since ”Farmer” sounded like the absolute weakest job imaginable.

”Absolutely,” Suzuki nodded firmly. He immediately spun around, his voice carrying perfectly across the grand hall. ”Captain Meld! Aiko-sensei has awakened as a Farmer!”

”WHAT?!” Captain Meld practically dropped his broadsword, his bearded jaw hitting the floor. ”That’s a legendary class! I’ve only ever read about it in ancient texts! Someone, hurry! Alert the Church immediately!”

”Eh?! EHHHH?!” Aiko squeaked in pure panic as armored knights suddenly swarmed her.

While the entire training hall devolved into chaos over the teacher’s legendary status, Suzuki flawlessly seized the opening.

He smoothly approached the flustered Captain. ”By the way, Captain Meld. As my status plate proved, my job is Merchant. It is useless for me to stay here swinging a heavy wooden stick when my physical stats won’t grow from it. Instead, shouldn’t I immediately go into the capital to survey the local market prices, map the guild’s supply lines, and secure bulk-discount rates for everyone’s potions?”

”I... well...” Meld blinked, entirely overwhelmed by the rapid-fire corporate jargon.

”Furthermore,” Suzuki continued, extending an open palm with absolute, unwavering confidence. ”I will need a substantial injection of initial capital to smoothly investigate the market and bribe the right guild officials. For the sake of the Heroes’ logistics, of course.”

Meld hesitated for a split second, but seeing Suzuki’s perfectly logical, serious expression, the Captain firmly nodded. ”You’re absolutely right! A proper army runs on its stomach and its coin! Someone, bring the Merchant a heavy bag of gold from the treasury!”

Just like that, while Aiko was being escorted away by frantic priests, and the rest of the class was being forced into grueling, sweaty physical combat training, Suzuki secured a massive bag of untraceable cash and full diplomatic permission to leave the castle.

As Suzuki casually strolled toward the exit, preparing to violently monopolize the capital’s economy, one single student was left entirely behind.

Nagumo, holding his mundane status plate, stood alone in the corner of the training yard, completely bewildered.

”...What the hell is a Synergist even supposed to do?”

---

Who made the right guess?

Yes, it’s a Merchant.