Here’s the situtation: The recent breakout success of “stubborn” protagonists isn’t just a trend; it’s a damning admission that LitRPG has painted itself into such a formulaic corner that intelligence itself has become a tired trope.
We all know that most of the time the idea of a hyper-intelligent MC is…kinda dumb. We’ve suffered through thousands of “galaxy brain” protagonists who somehow outsmart every situation with political machinations that would make Machiavelli kneel and pledge allegiance. We’ve endured countless MCs who treat every encounter like a chess match, spouting strategy like they’re channeling Sun Tzu through a gaming headset. I’m as tired of it as you are.
But here’s where I’m going to lose some of you fellow degenerate loyalists: celebrating stupidity as innovation shows just how broken this genre has become.
The Stubborn Skill-Grinder Phenomenon
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room; Actually elephants are too smart. Let’s talk about the hippo in the room (are hippos stupid? if not, sorry hippos). “The Stubborn Skill-Grinder In a Time Loop” didn’t just succeed in 2024; it dominated. We’re talking 4.8/5 stars with 770+ reviews on Amazon, trending discussions across Royal Road forums, and readers fulminating things like “Are you tired of ‘genius’ MCs? This is the story for you.”
But that wasn’t just a one-off phenomenon. Look at the success of titles like “All the Dust that Falls,” where the protagonist is literally a Roomba that gains consciousness and has to navigate a world without any preconceived notions about “optimal” strategies. Or consider the growing popularity of “low-intelligence” builds in stories where characters deliberately choose stats that make them less clever but more authentic. The pattern is undeniable: readers are actively seeking out protagonists who solve problems through persistence and tenacity rather than outsmarting everyone.
No political games. No galaxy-brain moments. Just pure, stubborn grinding until problems submit to sheer brute force repetition. And the community went wild for it.
I get the appeal. After years of protagonists who somehow master economics, military strategy, and interdimensional politics within their first week of being isekai’d, there’s something refreshingly honest about a character who just… tries harder. Royal Road forums are full of readers expressing genuine relief at protagonists who don’t outsmart every situation.
But while innovation in LitRPG is to be celebrated, there’s a problem brewing.
The Intelligence Fatigue Crisis
The success of anti-genius protagonists reveals something deeply troubling about the current state of LitRPG writing. We’ve reached a point where intelligence itself has become a red flag for readers. Think about that for a second. In a genre built around systematic progression and optimisation (concepts that require actual thought) we’re now celebrating characters who explicitly avoid thinking their way through problems.
This isn’t just reader preference shifting; it’s genre fatigue manifesting as anti-intellectualism.
We’ve seen this pattern before. Remember when every urban fantasy MC was a snarky private investigator? Remember when every epic fantasy hero was a reluctant farm boy? Genres hit saturation points where their core strengths become weaknesses through overuse and poor execution.
The difference is that those genres moved past their tired tropes by innovating within their strengths. LitRPG is responding to tired “genius” protagonists by abandoning intelligence entirely. That’s not innovation; that’s surrender.
Let me be crystal clear about something: the issue was never that protagonists were too intelligent. The problem was that authors were writing “intelligence” as an excuse for plot convenience rather than genuine character trait.
You know what I mean. The MC who somehow understands complex economic systems despite being a 16-year-old NEET, or the isekai protagonist who immediately grasps military tactics that took Earth’s greatest generals lifetimes to develop. Or the young hero who outsmarts ancient, supposedly cunning beings within a few chapters of arriving in their world.
That’s not intelligence, that’s author wish fulfilment disguised as intelligence.
Real intelligence in fiction requires authors to actually understand the systems they’re writing about. It demands research, logical consistency, and characters making decisions based on incomplete information. Most importantly, it requires smart characters to sometimes be wrong, because intelligence without limitation isn’t intelligence; it’s omniscience.
The Stubborn Skill-Grinder works because its author understood something fundamental – that authenticity trumps competence. A character who admits they’re not the smartest person in the room and compensates through persistence feels more genuine than another supposed genius who conveniently knows everything.
But as always, we’re taking the wrong lessons from success. Instead of learning to write better intelligent characters, the genre is teaching authors that intelligence is the problem. We’re essentially telling new writers: “Don’t worry about making your protagonist smart; just make them stubborn.”
LitRPG at its core is about optimisation, systematic thinking, and progressive improvement. These concepts require characters capable of analysis, pattern recognition, and strategic thinking. When we celebrate protagonists who explicitly avoid these mental processes, we’re undermining the genre’s fundamental appeal.
Look at the eastern cultivation novels that inspired much of modern LitRPG. Characters like Wang Lin from “Renegade Immortal” or Meng Hao from “I Shall Seal the Heavens” aren’t celebrated for being stupid; they’re beloved for being cleverly pragmatic. They think through problems, adapt their strategies, and use intelligence as another tool for progression.
Those authors actually understand the systems they’re writing about. They can make their characters intelligent because they’ve done the work to create logical, consistent worlds that reward genuine thought.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m not calling for a return to the bad old days of omniscient MCs who solve every problem with galaxy-brain political maneuvering. The Stubborn Skill-Grinder’s success teaches us valuable lessons about authenticity and character limitations.
But we need to aim higher than “at least they’re not annoyingly smart.”
What LitRPG needs is characters who are intelligently limited. Give me protagonists who are genuinely clever within specific domains while being obviously out of their depth in others. Show me characters who think through problems systematically but sometimes reach wrong conclusions. Let me see MCs who are smart enough to recognize when they need help and humble enough to ask for it.
The best LitRPG characters aren’t the smartest people in their worlds; they’re the ones who best understand their own capabilities and limitations. They use their intelligence strategically rather than treating it as a universal solution.
The Real Revolution We Need
Here’s my controversial take, dear readers: the “stupidity revolution” is actually pointing us toward the real innovation LitRPG needs. Not anti-intelligent characters, but emotionally intelligent ones.
The Stubborn Skill-Grinder succeeds because persistence requires emotional maturity (accepting failure, learning from mistakes, and maintaining motivation despite setbacks). These are sophisticated psychological traits that most “genius” protagonists completely lack.
What if we demanded that level of emotional sophistication from intelligent characters too? What if our smart protagonists had to grapple with the psychological costs of always being the person everyone expects to have answers? What if genius came with genuine trade-offs in social skills or emotional stability?
That’s the revolution I want to see. Not characters celebrating ignorance, but characters whose intelligence feels earned, limited, and genuinely human.
The Stubborn Skill-Grinder phenomenon taught us that readers crave authenticity over competence. Now let’s use that lesson to write authentically intelligent characters instead of throwing intelligence out entirely.
LET’S USE OUR BRAINS, NOT JUST OUR SKULLS.
What do you think readers? Are we celebrating the right kind of character evolution, or have we thrown the baby out with the bathwater? Which LitRPG gets the balance exactly right? Drop your takes in the comments—but if you’re going to disagree with me, at least make it interesting.
FantasyLitGuy 
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