Traveling between dimensions is not like in the movies. There's no trippy tunnel of lights. It feels more like being shoved into a washing machine filled with strobe lights and glitter, set to the 'Heavy Duty' cycle.
I felt my body stretching, compressing, and twisting. I felt nausea that transcended biology. And through it all, a mechanical, gender-neutral voice echoed directly inside my skull.
"Hey!" I tried to shout, but I didn't have a mouth anymore. "I prefer 'detail-oriented'!"
I was going to file a complaint with HR. This system was incredibly rude.
The spinning stopped. The pressure released.
That brings us back to the falling.
I plummeted through the purple sky, screaming my lungs out, until I crashed through the canopy of the neon forest. Branches whipped at my suit. Leaves smacked my face. I hit bough after bough, each impact slowing me down just enough to keep me from turning into a splat on the pavement.
I hit the ground. Hard.
It wasn't dirt. It was… soft? And smelly.
I groaned, rolling over. My suit was torn. My glasses were crooked. I reached up and pushed them back onto the bridge of my nose.
"Status check," I wheezed. "Limbs attached. Internal organs… present, mostly."
I looked around. I was lying in a heap of what looked like medieval garbage. Broken wooden crates, rusted swords, gnawed bones, and tattered cloth. I was in a dumpster. A fantasy dumpster.
"Perfect," I muttered, brushing a banana peel—was that a blue banana?—off my shoulder. "I get isekai'd to a magical world, and I land in the waste management sector."
A blue holographic screen, exactly like a pop-up ad, flickered into existence in front of my face.
[Welcome to Babel, Player!]
[You have survived the drop. Congratulations. Most don't.]
I squinted at the text. "Okay. Gamification. I can work with this. Give me my stats. Did I get the Hero class? Paladin? Grand Wizard?"
The text scrolled.
[Class Assigned: COMBAT BUTLER]
[Sub-Class: Domestic God]
I stared at the screen. I took off my glasses, cleaned them on my tie, and put them back on. The text hadn't changed.
"Butler?" I asked the empty air. "You kidnapped me from a six-figure job to make me a servant?"
[Skill Unlocked: Tidy Up (Level 1)]
[Skill Unlocked: Inventory Management (Level 1)]
[Starter Weapon: Cast Iron Skillet (Common)]
A heavy, black frying pan materialized out of thin air and clattered onto the trash pile next to my head.
I picked it up. It was greasy.
"This is a logistical nightmare," I whispered, feeling the headache setting in. "I need to speak to a manager."
From the shadows of the forest, a pair of glowing red eyes opened. Then another pair. Then a low, guttural growl vibrated through the trash heap.
I gripped the frying pan. "Okay. We can circle back to the complaint later. First item on the agenda: survive the night."