Despite not being a Hero, Saint, or even a Demon King, I was summoned

Everyone's got issues and it's not up to me to solve them

The thing about working behind the single counter of a shop like Cleimeph was that it could be really, really boring sometimes. Customers tended to come in early in the morning and late in the evening, since most were adventurers who spent daylight, well, adventuring. So in the slow time in between, I pretty much had nothing to do.

Arsral had his wheelchair so he didn't need a stool, and the one Arswen used during the rare times he tended the shop was too high and pressed my thighs up into the countertop. So I'd conjured my own wooden stool once my level was high enough. Law of equivalent exchange? What's that?

I was now at lucky Level 7 and so were [Light Orb] [Light Manipulation] [Conjure] and [Clean]. The combat skills and [Deal] were still at Level 1 for obvious reasons and [Resist Pain] was only at Level 2 because of the way I kept hitting my head on the top of the doorframe.

Being taller than everyone else was great but brought problems that I had never experienced before. Worth it.

Most of the time when I tended the shop I had a book in front of me. Today I had a book summarising the many different races that inhabited this world.

Dwarves

One of the three great races. Legend says the first Dwarf was born from stone. They are born looking almost the same as a human baby and their skin takes upon a rocky pallor as they reach adolescence. Their skin hardens when exposed to sunlight so most dwarves prefer to stay in their underground cities. Their-

The bell hanging over the door tinkled as a new customer pushed their way inside. I glanced up briefly from my book to greet them.

"Welcome to Cleimeph."

-high tolerance for heat allows them to stay inside their volcano forges for an extended period of time. Despite being one of the few intelligent races without the ability to naturally manipulate mana, they-

"You!"

I looked up again to meet an angry gaze and pointing finger. One look at his dark blue mohawk and I remembered who he was.

The thug guy who was in the alleyway that one time I got super lost.

I shifted into the persona of an 'overly polite badass' and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, me. Are we going to have a problem?" I asked coolly. If we did, at least this time I had some combat skills, low levelled as they were.

He growled at me. "We will if you interfere with my business with that midget again!"

By midget, he probably meant Toen. After I'd helped him out, I'd seen him around town a few times and exchanged a few words.

"My, my. What did he ever do to you?"

"He killed my father!"

And with that shocking statement, he turned and charged out of the store.

...What did he even come in here for?

Apparently Mohawk wasn't just some mindless thug after all. I felt a bit bad for stereotyping him now. In my defence, he was acting exactly like one.

But wow, that was a shocking revelation. Toen didn't seem the type for murder and was pretty well-liked by everyone. I just couldn't imagine him killing anyone. But he was reluctant to disclose Mohawk and friend's reasons for beating him up, which indicated at least some guilt.

I thought about it for a moment more before shrugging and petting Kuro who was napping on my lap. Fortunately, it hadn't woken up despite the ruckus.