Everyone's a Hero, and I'm Just Farming. So What?

At the hero-summoning ceremony, everyone else is an SSS-rank warrior or an SS-rank mage, all set to storm the Demon Lord’s castle and swear to save the world.

When my turn comes, I’m the only F-rank hero in the whole place.

Just like that, I become the first hero in history to be “returned.”

Only later do I learn that hardly any of this generation’s heroes are normal.

The SSS-rank warrior spends all day cursing the High Priest as a “senile old fool” in the chat channel, claiming a mountain in the north as his own and refusing to follow orders.

The SS-rank mage has a monopoly on the potion market and throws the kingdom’s economy into chaos.

So the Oversight Bureau is established, and every hero is assigned a supervisor. They call it helping us adjust, but really, they’re afraid we’ll become another bunch of street loafers.

And me, an F-rank farmer, naturally doesn’t make their list of priorities.

But I pick up a few companions who share my fate:

An orc warrior missing an arm;

A timid thief who works as a tailor;

A blind elven archer.

Everyone laughs at me and calls my place a “dumping ground for useless losers.”

I say, “I’m just farming. Why would I need an SS rank?”

Later, I grow the miracle leveling medicine every hero needs: the Experience Fruit.

Later still, the once “strongest hero” party kneels at my farm entrance, begging me to sell them a blade of “god-tier attribute” grass.

Meanwhile, I’m sprawled in a wicker chair, watching Little Fox count my money.

“How many times have I told you? I’m not selling! But if you ask nicely, we can talk.”

That’s my life in another world: no fighting, no rat race, just farming, and occasionally giving this world a shock straight from a farmer.

[Western fantasy, slow burn, farming, magical plants, beast companions, light novel, trope subversion]