A Fox’s Review of: The Other World’s Books Depend on the Bean Counter

The Other World’s Books Depend on the Bean Counter is a light novel series by Yatsuki Wakatsu, adorned with illustrations by Shokei. A manga adaptation is brewing, with the latest installment hitting shelves in May 2023. This review dives into the first volume of the light novel series. While an ebook is available, there’s something undeniably comforting about holding a physical book in my hands — settling in with a good Lo-Fi playlist, curling up with a warm drink, and cracking open the spine of a new adventure.

Bean Counter isn’t the first Boys Love book I’ve devoured this quarter, but it marks the beginning of a series of reviews I plan to undertake. I’ll be exploring a range of literature, sharing my thoughts on what captivated me, the emotional waves I rode while reading, and more. I may not always follow up with reviews of the subsequent books in a series or even tackle them in order.

The Other World’s Books Depend on the Bean Counter unfolds as a Boys Love fantasy isekai. Kazuya Kondou is your archetypal overworked Japanese salaryman, trapped in a soul-sucking dead-end job. One fateful evening, he stumbles upon a high school student sinking into the earth. In a moment of misguided heroism, he reaches out to help her — and suddenly, he’s whisked away to a fantasy realm. Unlike many protagonists who find themselves in such fantastical scenarios, Kazuya lacks magical skills or superhuman abilities; instead, he brings only his expertise as an accountant to this new world.

When Kazuya lands in the kingdom, he quickly discovers chaos reigning over its finances. He throws himself into the accounting department, determined to restore order amidst the fiscal mayhem. As he pushes beyond his limits, he finds solace in restorative tonics — magical potions that allow him to recharge and keep working. However, a sinister twist reveals that his body struggles to handle the magical properties of this new world. Enter Captain Aresh: stoic, icy, and drop-dead gorgeous. His solution to Kazuya’s predicament? Well, it’s about as subtle as a hammer — sex.

The premise of an ordinary Joe being hurled from the mundane into a fantastical world has always intrigued me. Titles like Shield Hero and Sword Art Online have drawn me in with their tales of characters navigating new realms. The isekai genre has surged in popularity over recent years, yet it remains challenging to find narratives that embrace LGBTQ+ themes. So when I first laid eyes on the synopsis of Bean Counter, I clicked so hard my mouse nearly left an imprint.

Japanese Boys Love narratives often tread lightly on heavy plots, character development, and philosophical musings. When I finally cracked open this book, I braced myself for a familiar ride but hoped it might surprise me with some substance. After three months steeped in various danmei, sapphic tales, and rich fantasy worlds, I held out hope for something deeper. Yet, I was mistaken; this book let me down with a thud that echoed through my expectations.

Kazuya Kondou initially shines as a promising character, distinct from the typical Boys Love protagonists who yearn for heroic glory. Shockingly, his first request upon arriving in this new world is for a job — much to the astonishment of the kingdom that had little use for him until he began to rein in its extravagant spending. That glimmer of promise quickly fizzles out.

As for Captain Aresh, he embodies the quintessential love interest: emotionless on the surface, seemingly lazy but secretly a genius, effortlessly excelling at everything he attempts. His method of addressing Kazuya’s “magic poisoning” is a tired trope within Boys Love narratives: sex is presented as the panacea for all ills. But here’s the kicker — it’s worth noting that while the story flirts with the idea of intimacy, it doesn’t actually deliver any explicit sex scenes. For some readers, this might feel like a letdown, especially given the genre’s reputation for steamy encounters.

At least the book sidesteps the usual dynamics of a reluctant uke and an aggressive seme; Aresh emphasizes that Kazuya must consent to begin the “treatment.” However, considering Kazuya is reeling from his predicament, one might question whether his consent is genuine. Their relationship develops within this transactional framework — Kazuya repeatedly attempts to offer payment for Aresh’s services, blurring the lines of emotional connection.

The supporting cast does little to break free from their cookie-cutter molds. The holy maiden who inadvertently brings Kazuya into this mess is your average sixteen-year-old girl, brimming with immense magical potential. Meanwhile, Nobert Blanc, Kazuya’s well-meaning sidekick, fills the role of the standard wingman and romance advocate, lacking any real depth.

By the conclusion of my journey through this novel, I wasn’t left yearning for more. Instead, I felt ready to leap into something richer and more fulfilling. While it served as a quick read, it paled in comparison to the myriad other options available. The pacing was swift but left me breathless for all the wrong reasons, and the worldbuilding felt like it had been extracted from a generic manual. Even the hierarchy within the nobility came across as an uninspired catch-all.

Ultimately, I rated the book a 3.5 out of 10 stars. It certainly wasn’t the worst read I’ve encountered, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would have preferred spending my time — and money — on something with more substance. If you’re hunting for a fast-paced escape to scratch that isekai itch, this might suffice. But if you crave depth and spice, better to read Fifty Shades of Gay.