Personally, I was initially very fond of stories and novels about other worlds. They created a special feeling within me. Until, as the saying goes, “they stirred up a rebellion!” The hero was always a boy who either found himself in another world due to a sudden death from a truck, some kind of magic, or a mysterious and enchanting event. He either wakes up to realize he has become a baby or is revealed alone, or with a group from his own world, in the presence of a king. They are called heroes and are told they have a divine mission. They must defeat the villain of this world, who, due to pure wickedness and nothing else, wreaks destruction and devastation. Then either a system, like a video game, strengthens them, or If that’s not the case, they learn skills themselves and progress like a genius. Otherwise, they become a poor soul who survives by a miracle and grows stronger.

  Then, while embarking on their journey, they become entangled in the affairs of others and completely forget about their own duties, needs and goals, as if they have no hidden intentions or personal objectives. They save girls and then, without knowing it, end up in harems. Unless they themselves are girls, then I won’t even mention the clichés of male characters becoming dependent on and obsessed with her. The main character has a severe lack of morals and personal values, like a blank sheet of paper. Or worse, the author places themselves in the protagonist's shoes and writes about their own dreams and deficiencies.

  After I realized this situation and became saturated with such laziness, I decided to only read the best works. that is, Until I was accepted into a top-tier public university in Tokyo. I chose computer science so that one day I could move toward game development and advanced programming. Soon, I was supposed to choose the software specialization. But in the worst possible way, they took all that from me.

  During one of the Wednesday afternoon classes, the power in the artificial intelligence workshop went out. The professor wanted to cancel the class when, to our disbelief, we were all frozen in place by an invisible force. Then a thick, gray fog enveloped us all. I couldn’t see nor hear anyone. The air felt heavy on me. Suddenly two black arms emerged from the mist and approached me. Two hands, covered with dark scales like obsidian and with long, sharp nails. My body was trembling. My mind had shut down. One of those hands came toward my eyes and darkened my vision. Without knowing how it happened, I lost consciousness.

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  My name is Jin Ryuji. I am a 20-year-old boy. My third year of university came to a halt like this. We became, as the saying goes, “isekai-ed.” Oblivious to everything. I wish it were that simple.

  I came to with strong shakes on my shoulders. My eyes were still heavy. The sounds seemed to be coming from a distance. With all my strength, I tried to blindly push away whoever was trying to wake me. And it was at that moment I remembered what had happened. Without hesitation, I opened my eyes. My classmate and close friend, Mizushi Okaya, with his large hazel eyes, let out a sigh of relief. The young boy turned to another direction and announced, “He’s come to.”

  Then he reached out a hand to help me sit up. I felt a bad dizziness. My chest and head burned. I blinked rapidly a few times and shook my head to see if it would get better. I heard a few footsteps and paid attention to my surroundings. With a glance, I realized that all the members of the class and even the professor were present. Our professor, Mr. Taka along with my close friend Murata Koji Akiyo, whose neatly combed hair was now quite disheveled, approached me. The professor knelt in front of me and asked about my condition. Okaya reassured both him and Murata. In this chaos, I had neither the ears to listen nor the patience to speak. I nodded to reassure them. The others were either standing or sitting beside dusty pillars. Sadness, fear, anxiety, and confusion were evident in all of us because we found ourselves in a stone room with only a few torches in the unknown darkness.

  Suddenly, there was a creaking sound, and then light shone from one side into the large room. At least the torchlight had prepared our eyes for the brighter light. We heard a male voice: “Please follow me.”

  I had a strange feeling about all of this.