Life in that town was a dreary and utterly repetitive existence, filled to the brim with working to the bone and handing out gifts as if it was Christmas.

Nobody wanted to just have a chat, nobody wanted to form bonds deeper than the materialistic ones they had become particularly attached to, nobody wanted to do anything.

Day in and day out he would tend to the fields, pamper his animals, and walk around the town like a chicken with his head cut off looking for people to give gifts to.

And, of course, they said the same thing when they got their damned presents.

"Thanks!"

"How did you know I liked this?"

"Thank you!"

Every. Single. Day.

How could he forget that there was that laundry list of things to do presented upon him in the month following his arrival; the town all-but bestowed in his hands.

Plant trees, build houses, move trees, raise a garden, win festivals; hell, he even had to earn a certain amount of money, as if that made a difference in the town's well-being.

Naturally, nobody helped him except those tiny elf things, which he was sure he made up so that he wouldn't be alone in all this.

Single-handedly he revitalized a town, brought it from its weakest point in history to its strongest, and became a globally-recognized phenomenon among farmers for his five-star produce.

And the town hardly ever batted an eyelash.

After he completed a section of the plan he'd get very modestly thanked before being tossed the next plan, and after he built someone their house they'd come to his house during the wee hours of the day to express their phoned-in gratitude.

He'd showered them with gifts, spent months collecting materials to build them lavish houses, had moved in copious families so the town felt less lonely, and he was returned with nothing.

And what happened when he finished all of the plans, completed the seemingly-impossible amount of work assigned to him? Dunhill handed him yet another blueprint, this time for a museum of sorts, before taking his leave.

He had spent hours cutting down trees and smashing rocks like a poor laborer, had spent weeks mining for the rarest of gems required in house designs, had spent months trying to build one house.

And he was forced to repeat the process an uncountable amount of times.

He had spent four whole years of his life catering to this town's every whim and woe, and had nothing but the town's insincere smiles to show for it.

This was the town he built from the ground up with no help whatsoever, a town which he could and should be proud of.

This was his legacy. This town would be the only mark he left on the world.

This was his town.

And he was going to be the one who tore it down.


So that was kind of fun to write! I didn't take very long to write it, so it wasn't the very best I could have done, and it was as short as...something really short.

(also woo for using a male protagonist; there sure are a limited amount of those here!)