During the noodle-eating, I chatted with the dragon and learned it was actually quite young—about the same age as me, having only recently started this assignment. Also, just as heroes needed certification exams, every newborn dragon had to undergo rigorous training from childhood, and only after passing could they be assigned to a demon mountain's dragon lair to serve as a villain, striving for the honorable title of "Great Villain."
"What about the dragons who don't pass?" I took a sip of broth and asked curiously.
"Then they never even get a chance to appear in the story," it scratched its head. "No opportunity to become a powerful villain at all."
Sounded about like us ordinary NPCs.
It turns out even villain roles were divided into protagonists and side characters, just like the heroes and us NPCs. Wait—I suddenly remembered that among the heroes, many were also destined to be cannon fodder.
So I looked up and carefully examined the dragon's head.
Just like mine—smooth and bare, without that thing called a protagonist aura.
I understood.
These dragons were just like those kids waving wooden swords in the city, seduced by that beautiful ultimate goal, all believing they would be the one chosen by fate. Until fate's heavy fist beat them until they cried for their parents, at which point they'd realize their lives might be worse off than those of us lazy-boned NPCs.
But since I'd freeloaded its noodles, I couldn't say anything too discouraging. So I changed the subject: "If you encounter ordinary people like me, do you attack?"
"No, no," the dragon quickly denied. "We have rules. We can't attack ordinary people. It's beneath our dignity."
I felt thoroughly reassured, drained the last of the broth from my bowl, wiped my mouth, and looked up at it. "I don't even know your name yet."
The dragon glanced at me, seeming to hesitate, then finally said in a small voice: "Jiji."
So I really had become the first person in the world to befriend a dragon.
And I could even call it "A-Ji."
---
After knowing each other for a while, I discovered A-Ji was a truly hardcore homebody of a dragon.
Unlike me, who occasionally went down the mountain to catch a market or watch a show, A-Ji's range of activities was strictly limited to the dragon's lair. Aside from fending off the endless stream of challengers on workdays, its social circle was extremely small—basically limited to the occasional delivery person and food courier.
So I was the first person to visit voluntarily. No wonder A-Ji had been so happy then, even treating me to noodles.
And when I was leaving, it pointed its little claw at me and stammered out a hope that I'd come again.
Since I had nothing but free time, of course I agreed.
But on workdays, I still watched from the lair entrance as before, trying not to disturb A-Ji's work. Only on weekends would I grab some bananas and apples as a token gift, brazen my way over to A-Ji's place to mooch a meal, and chat idly about my experiences around the world.
Almost every time I visited, A-Ji was cleaning.
Cleaning up the battlefield was no easy task. Heroes would charge in, fight, and leave, never bothering to clean up the mess they made. It was a good thing A-Ji was so patient—it would painstakingly clean and reorganize every weekend, keeping the dragon's lair from becoming the terrifying place described in legends.
On weeks when fewer heroes came and there was less to clean, A-Ji would hole up in its room at the back of the lair, open its little treasure chest, and happily wipe each small gold coin inside over and over, until every coin gleamed, its eyes squinting into two crescents of delight.
This was A-Ji's greatest hobby.
I asked where the gold coins came from, and it told me a small portion was wages paid by the organization, but most were won from heroes. For every hero a dragon defeated, it could claim some coins from them, then hoard them in its little treasure chest.
"Every dragon that passes certification gets issued a little treasure chest," A-Ji explained.
Just as every certified hero received a gold credentials badge.
"What does a dragon need gold coins for?" I was curious. The legends did say dragons loved sleeping on piles of gold and treasure, but lying on those things was actually uncomfortably hard. A-Ji also lived very frugally, never buying anything expensive online, so I couldn't see the point of hoarding so many coins.
"Pension fund," A-Ji said, using a small stubby claw to scoop up the largest, roundest gold coin, blowing on it, and wiping it carefully with a cloth. "Some dragons never make it to Great Villain status. According to the rules, once they save up a chest full of coins, they can retire and leave the lair to live their own lives."
Although the idea of having to entirely self-fund your retirement seemed a bit off, my real concern was elsewhere: "Dragons can retire?"
"Yeah." A-Ji looked up, changing its scales to a weathered gray-white, pretending to be decrepit with age, coughing twice and laboriously trying to breathe fire, only managing to puff out a shriveled smoke ring. "Some dragons grow old and can't fight anymore, and still haven't become Great Villains. If they don't retire, they'll just be killed by the next hero."
My heart stirred. I was about to tell A-Ji about the protagonist aura, but A-Ji spoke first: "But only spineless dragons would give up like that. I'm definitely going to become the most powerful Great Villain. Collecting these coins is purely a hobby."
Saying this, it waved the gleaming coin in front of my face, looking insufferably smug: "This coin is a limited edition. There's only this one left in the whole world."
The pattern on the coin was a fire-breathing dragon, looking fierce and imposing.
I swallowed the words I'd been about to say.
A-Ji, meanwhile, admired the coin over and over, holding it like a treasured possession. "I call it Big Treasure."
So it had named every single coin.
Typical behavior of a hardcore dragon shut-in.
---
Unknowingly, A-Ji and I had become friends.
Watching it fight heroes felt different from when I was just a bystander.
I used to root for the heroes, wanting to see those with protagonist auras beat the dragon to a pulp, justice prevailing—those reports sold for a good price at the tabloids in the city.
The citizens loved hearing that kind of story.
They didn't care whether the creature living in that lair was a good-hearted, clumsy dragon.
Only I knew that fighting heroes was just A-Ji's job. It didn't enjoy violence—it had simply been born into the position of being pummeled by heroes, which was pretty unlucky. And since it lacked the protagonist aura that only a Great Villain would have, even an average-skilled hero could give it a sound thrashing. The injuries were so bad I couldn't bear to watch.
Once, a particularly powerful hero with a super-strong protagonist aura came and gave A-Ji a thorough beating, smashing half the lair's main hall. I hid at the entrance, not even daring to breathe, and only after the hero had completely disappeared down the mountain did I venture in to find A-Ji.
Poor A-Ji was lying among the rubble, broken claws, torn skin, chipped scales, groaning in pain. It took me a great effort to get it back to its room deep in the lair.
While helping it apply medicine to its wounds, watching it tremble with pain, tears welling in its eyes, head drooping pitifully, I couldn't help but advise: "Why don't you just quit this job? Save up properly and wait for retirement, isn't that fine? Where's your little treasure chest? Let's see how many more coins you need to fill it."
A-Ji's tears, which it had been holding back, suddenly spilled over, startling me.
Then, following the direction of A-Ji's small claw, I saw the treasure chest in the corner standing open, and the coins inside were far fewer than before—only a pitiful small handful remained.
"My… my Big Treasure…" A-Ji sobbed, gasping for breath between words, "…was taken away…"
Big Treasure was A-Ji's favorite coin.
I remembered now—whenever a hero with a protagonist aura came, they didn't just beat the dragon; they also took a wave of coins when they left.
I used to envy them for winning both fame and fortune.
Now it only seemed ironic.
---
After that great battle, A-Ji grew much more subdued.
My intuition told me this wasn't just because its treasured coin had been stolen.
More likely, after this battle, A-Ji had realized that it wasn't the chosen one, the dragon destined to become a super-villain.
I understood that feeling, truly.
When I discovered the power of the protagonist aura and found I didn't have one, forcing me to abandon my childhood dream, I'd also been miserable for a while.
With my various persuasions, A-Ji finally agreed to come out with me for some fresh air.
So on a quiet night, A-Ji changed into all-black scales, and at my repeated urging, took three steps back for every step forward, finally leaving the lair.
It was midsummer. Above, the sky was vast and clear, the stars brilliant. In the distance, the town was bustling with lights; nearby, the forest was dark, but the chirping of cicadas and the bubbling of springs played together like music. A summer night breeze drifted over A-Ji and me, bringing a coolness.
Looking at this beautiful scenery, A-Ji gradually broke into a pure, childlike smile.
"This world is so beautiful," it said.
Before I could respond, the world suddenly spun, and when I came to, A-Ji had scooped me onto its back, and with wings spread wide, we soared through the starlight.
Perhaps from not flying for so long, A-Ji's flight was unsteady—bobbing up and down, making me pale with fright as I clung desperately to its scales.
But A-Ji seemed overjoyed, chattering away as it flew—telling me how hard it had worked to pass the dragon qualification exam, how proud it was of collecting those limited-edition coins, and how at first it had even flown to a castle to capture a princess, but when the princess arrived, she did nothing but use its treasure chest coins to shop online, and it had to keep receiving packages for her. In the end, it got so scared that it shoved the princess into the arms of the next hero who came along and never dared to target another princess again…
It cracked itself up, its wings shaking with laughter.
Then the laughter settled, its wings fluttered, and it landed in a field a short distance from the city, setting me down.
It gazed at the prosperous big city ahead, then tilted its head to look at me, looking like it wanted to say something but couldn't.
"Do you think… am I also part of this beautiful world?"
I nodded vigorously.
It lowered its head. "But I'm just a villain, and a useless one at that."
"Even though neither of us has a protagonist aura…" I walked over and pressed myself gently against its side. "But useless villains, or lazy-boned NPCs like me, we're all part of this world too."
Even if we're just an inaudible cicada's chirp, a dim star, or a shadow fallen into a muddy puddle, this world needs us too.
"A-Ji, look, a shooting star!" I suddenly noticed a streak of light flash across the sky and quickly pointed it out. "Make a wish! Quick!"
A-Ji panicked and stammered for a long time without forming a coherent sentence, only managing to shout before the shooting star disappeared: "Someday I want to see the outside world too!"
"Hmm?" I tilted my head.
"I keep hearing you talk about how interesting the outside world is, and I really want to see it for myself." A-Ji turned its face away shyly. "When I've saved enough for retirement, take me with you. Let's go together."
I froze for a moment before realizing that A-Ji had decided to give up its dream of becoming a Great Villain.
But it had a new goal now.
I smiled and hooked my finger around its small claw, making a solemn promise: "I will!"
---
Since A-Ji had resolved to save up for retirement, there was no need to tough it out against heroes with protagonist auras.
I decided to help A-Ji.
The ability to see protagonist auras came in handy again. I'd first go to the mountain entrance, observe which incoming heroes had the aura and which didn't, then quickly run back to the lair and tip off A-Ji about which heroes to fight and which to avoid.