OMAKE – NON-CANONICAL: Dimensional Group Chat (2).

This had already been finished for a while—I just needed to translate it. So here’s the chapter a bit earlier than usual. I’m already working on the regular chapter; this one is a “bonus.”

Chapters (3) and (4) of this OMAKE are already available on (P)(A)(T), in case anyone wants to check them out.

(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori.

[...]---[...]

The two days before the introductory mission — or whatever the Group Chat wanted to call it — flew by.

In the meantime, besides getting ready for wherever the terrifying, horror-filled end of the world they were going to throw me into, I also interacted with the rest of the chat.

I ended up discovering almost everyone’s identity. Or everyone’s, in this case, since they were all women.

The two I was already almost certain about really were who I thought they were.

ApocalypseBrat really was Ellie Williams, from The Last of Us. She didn’t know Joel, from what I investigated without being too obvious, I hope — so this was before the events of the game.

Given that she was fourteen, it didn’t have to be that long before.

DumbKidnapMagnet was Ashley Graham, as she herself had admitted earlier. She’d been kidnapped just over a day before the Group Chat showed up for her.

Honestly, I didn’t know much about Resident Evil. I’d played four once or twice, but I was never a huge fan; not enough of a fan to go digging for the story’s finer points.

And it had been ten years since I’d played it — I may be a reincarnator/transmigrator, but my memory wasn’t the anomalous kind they always had.

I was just a normal woman.

I had no idea how long Ashley had been held before Leon came to rescue her; she probably had to stay there a while.

Silver lining: the item she got from the chat would be very useful in her fucked-up world.

As for the others, surprisingly, PotatoSurvivalInstincts was Bella Swan. Isabella “Bella” Marie, fucking Swan.

I should’ve guessed, given the clues: the item she got was a stake for killing vampires, her nickname was "Potato"…

At least the Group Chat’s sense of humor was okay. My kind of okay, anyway. My humor tended to be kind of dumb.

She still had some doubts about whether the Group Chat was real. Few; I figured it was more denial than anything else. Which, frankly, was kind of weird, since she accepted pretty quickly that the weird thing there was a vampire.

Yes, I’d read Twilight — I didn’t know any woman my age who hadn’t. The age I was before, that is. It was kind of a craze back then. Interestingly, the book didn’t exist in that world, but I didn’t feel like plagiarizing it. Or creating it, rather.

I was filthy rich already and felt releasing that “evil” into this world would be something I shouldn’t do.

She’d arrived in Forks just a few hours before she received the invite to the Group Chat. School was starting in less than a week, and since she was staying home and not going out, she’d only met a few of her father’s old friends.

More info than I expected to get — I hadn’t even asked, actually. I almost wanted to ask for her SSN just to see if she’d actually tell me…

Not sure if that was how it was in the books and movies; it’d been years since I’d read and watched them, respectively.

Apparently she still hadn’t met the lamp group prone to incestuous behavior, nor the cursed furry group likely to fall in love with babies against their own will.

Thinking about it… why did I even like this saga again?…

The last one I discovered was PoisonFetishist. Or at least I discovered her name: Maomao.

I had no idea who she was aside from living in some Li Empire located in China. From what the internet gave me, the Li Empire sounded like something from the Tang Dynasty, which ran from 618 to 907.

Which didn’t really matter, since when I asked her about what I’d read on Wikipedia — about the important historical figures of that era — she said she didn’t know any of them.

Was it possible she simply didn’t have the knowledge to answer my questions? Sure. Very likely, actually.

But, given that I doubted the Group Chat would pull in someone random based on the other people it had invited, she was probably from some period story set in ancient China.

My conclusion was that it was some kind of alternate ancient China, or something like that — a novel, manga, or anime.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any story on the internet that matched hers.

Still, of all the members she wasn’t the one I knew the least about. That honor went entirely to The Human.

Maomao liked to chat in her spare time. She seemed to be using the Group Chat to vent and ask for help with writing, theories, and knowledge about various things, mainly poisons.

She struck me as pretty smart and pleasant to be around, even if she could be sarcastic and dry sometimes…

But The Human? I had almost nothing on that guy. He barely said anything in the chat, maybe showed up three or four times and stayed for about five minutes.

Which, frankly, was fucking suspicious and made me a bit neurotic. Not his lack of presence — that could be explained by a bunch of reasons — but the fact that he was a man.

Six members in this group, five women and one guy?… No way!

If I find out I was pulled into some kind of harem story and I’m one of the possible members of that guy’s harem, I will bite his dick off!

I felt my eyelid twitch and my breath grow slightly rough at the thought. What a fucking cursed possibility — it stressed me out just to consider it.

Maybe it was also because of the mission coming up soon. Knowing I was about to be thrown into some horror story did nothing for my mood.

I looked at the clock that had appeared in the chat when there was one hour left until the mission started.

[36:16]

A little over thirty minutes…

I took a deep breath and massaged the side of my neck as I reorganized my thoughts and listed my preparations.

Convincing my dad to help me buy a Taurus wasn’t as hard as I thought. I just said it was to make me feel safe when I went to college, and he made it happen in a few hours.

Explaining why I wanted silver bullets, garlic, holy water — actually blessed holy water — wooden stakes, anti-evil talismans and a bunch of other weird items I could think of and find online would’ve been a lot more problematic.

Not that much, to be honest…

So I used one incredible factor: I’m an adult. I bought most of that stuff myself. Except for the holy water and the talismans, which I couldn’t confirm would work, I managed to get almost everything.

Even the silver bullets. They were way more expensive than I expected, and I had to pay an extra fee to get them delivered before the mission deadline.

I tested to see if they were actually silver — I took them to a jeweler. The guy barely blinked when he saw bullets instead of jewelry; he must’ve seen some shit on the job.

The verdict was that it was real silver, and I hadn’t been ripped off.

Alexis, grandma, and dad thought my purchases were strange, but I lied that I was collecting some mystical items, and that was that.

I’d always collected things — it’d been my hobby forever — so adding occult and horror-story items to the pile must’ve been just an “Oh, okay, then” for them.

I think they even reacted better than when I spent over five thousand dollars to get all the Jeanne NP6 versions.

This fucking game had followed me into this life and was still wrecking my sanity, but at least now I was rich!

While letting my thoughts wander so I wouldn’t freak out, I stood up to look at myself in the full-length mirror in my room.

I’d dressed as best I could: polished black leather knee-high boots, tight pants in the same shade, and a thick dark-gray top, layered under a heavy navy coat that reached mid-thigh.

Under the top I had a simple bulletproof vest — the kind anyone could buy online.

I bought two and tested one: it worked up to a certain distance; at point-blank range the vest would give. Still, better a bruise or a broken rib than an extra hole in my body.

That’s counting only humans — I wasn’t sure it would stand up to claws or anything like that…

Over it I wore a slim tactical vest with an internal holster for a pistol, hidden beneath the coat. Discreet enough not to ruin the look, but functional enough for me to draw the Taurus fairly easily.

Since I expected not to have to use that thing…

I added black fingerless leather gloves and a discreet wine-colored scarf, just to break up the dark tones of the outfit. It contrasted nicely with my pale skin.

I didn’t know if the place we were headed would be cold, so I went with thick clothing — if it turned out to be hot, I could always ditch them and switch to the other outfit I’d packed.

The ensemble looked more suited for a winter hunt than for whatever the hell awaited me in this mission. Still, it was the closest I could get to something practical, stylish, and good-looking at the same time.

I liked looking good — and if I was going to die devoured by some supernatural creature, at least I’d die well-dressed and elegant.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

My blue eyes trembled slightly. I could see the fear inside them. I could feel it — it was my fear. I brushed a loose strand of blond hair from my face. My skin was cold.

Damn… Damn it… Fuck!

My right cheek burned. I saw a faint red handprint appear in the mirror.

“You’re not going to die. Stop being an idiot…” I growled quietly at my reflection, pointing at the mirror. “Use your head, dammit! You’re smart. Think and survive. You know the stories, you know the possible endings, the plots, the tropes!”

“Don’t count on luck. You’re a transmigrator, but that doesn’t mean you’re the protagonist or immune to death. The Chat gave you that nickname for a reason…”

“Be the Final Girl. Think and survive. Go home. Dad, Alexis, and Grandma are waiting… Use your head and remember we’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be fine…”

I shut my eyes tightly, then wiped away the tears that threatened to fall before sighing, opening them again, and pulling up the Group Chat interface.

I hated how I looked — hated that I had to say these things to myself in front of a mirror, like some fragile teenager.

I ignored the other participants’ messages and looked at the timer.

[06:16]

“Six minutes…” I muttered, glancing toward the corner. “Should I?… No.”

I hadn’t said goodbye to anyone. And I wouldn’t.

Like the Important Notes in the system said, we’d return at the exact moment we left. For everyone else, it would be as if nothing had happened — I’d be in my room, and a few hours later I’d go downstairs for dinner.

No matter how much time passed during the mission, that’s what would happen.

And that’s what I’d make happen.

I wasn’t going to say goodbye, because I didn’t need to — I’d be back.

I slung my backpack over my shoulders and grabbed the two suitcases. Taking a deep breath, I sat down on the bed and waited.

I stared at the timer as the numbers ticked down.

[03:36]

[01:08]

[00:39]

[00:10]

[00:06]

[00:03]

[00:01]

When the timer hit zero, my vision began to fade into darkness.

Before everything went black, I had one last thought: I’ll come back…

Then there was nothing.

[,,.]

That strange mix of unease, calm, danger, and safety all blended together the instant I woke up and realized I wasn’t in my room.

I jolted upright, gasping, eyes darting around in panic. It took me a second to remember what had happened.

“The mission… This must be the Nameless Camp…” I whispered to myself.

I looked around, ignoring the cold shiver that crawled up my spine.

The room was smaller than mine, about half the size. It was clean and tidy.

The floor, walls, and ceiling were made of polished dark wood, and above, a small candle chandelier cast a soft, yellowish glow across the room, mixing with the dim gray light seeping through the window centered on the wall opposite the bed’s foot.

The single bed was pushed against the wall opposite the door, covered with a white sheet and a folded blue-gray blanket at the foot — right next to my feet. Part of me wanted to kick it off, just to mess it up.

Beside the bed was a simple wooden desk, lighter in tone and carved with wavy patterns, its surface bare except for a single straight-backed chair.

There was also an empty bookshelf near the door, with a narrow, equally empty shelf above it. I didn’t see any dust, but my eyesight wasn’t perfect.

A closed wardrobe in the same dark tone as the walls stood in the corner beside the window. It had the same wavy carvings as the desk and chair.

When I spotted my backpack and two suitcases beside the wardrobe, I sighed in relief. The Group Chat hadn’t left my stuff behind on Earth.

In the center of the floor, a plush wine-colored rug with golden details decorated the space.

It was… different from what I expected. Well, I didn’t really know what I was expecting.

Not luxurious, of course, but not poor either. Simple was the right word. If anything, it just felt empty and soulless. Half cozy, half unsettling — like a hotel room.

This must’ve been one of the rooms in the cabin mentioned in the system’s Important Notes.

I stood up, but not before kicking the neatly arranged blanket to the other side of the bed. I pulled the fluffy white pillow out of place too, messing up the sheets. Then I went to the door, touching the copper-colored metal handle. Before turning it, I realized I’d forgotten something.

I slipped my right hand inside my coat, quickly feeling around until my fingers brushed the cold metal of the Taurus. Once I confirmed the gun was still there, I gripped the handle with my right hand and turned the circular wooden doorknob — it opened inward — with my left, pushing the door open.

I was met with a hallway.

Like the room, the floor, walls, and ceiling were made of polished dark wood. It wasn’t narrow, but not wide either — maybe three, four of me could stand side by side.

I kept my right hand on the Taurus as I looked from right to left. Eleven doors. I counted eleven besides mine.

Six in front of me on the opposite wall; two to my left, with mine being the third on that side; and three to my right.

Twelve in total.

Each door had a small plaque with a number. The first door on the opposite wall had the number [1], so the first on my side was [2], and so on.

Mine was [6].

I really didn’t like what that might mean…

At the far end of the right side of the corridor was a solid wall. Against it sat a small square gray stone stand, and above it, a ceramic-looking flower pot — empty.

The hallway was lit by torches mounted beside each door and a straight line of small yellowish stones embedded in the ceiling.

…I wanted some of those stones. I’d see if I could grab a few later.

From the torches, I quickly noticed only five were lit: mine, two on the left — same wall — and two ahead, on the opposite wall.

The number of female members.

To the left, the hallway opened into another room. I could see a rectangular wooden table, some chairs, armchairs, and sofas. It looked like a living room — or maybe a lounge.

As I took in the sight, two doors opened almost simultaneously — one to my left and one on the opposite wall.

Doors number [1] and [2], respectively.

From the door on the left, the one marked with a [2], came a small woman with distinctly Chinese features.

Green hair, button nose, slanted eyes, pale skin with a few freckles across her face. She wore some sort of hanfu—an aokùn, or maybe hanfu aoqun, I wasn’t entirely sure about the name or the pronunciation.

It was traditional Chinese clothing; I only knew what it was because I’d done some random research in the past two days and stumbled across the information by accident.

Basically, it was a long-sleeved light-green blouse, a white inner robe, and a long maroon skirt, all tied with a sash. On her feet, dark-green sandals.

I swear I’ll shoot myself in the foot if this isn’t Maomao.

Ignoring the random thought that surfaced in my idiot brain, I looked at the other person stepping out of the door in front of Maomao’s — the one with the [1] on it: a girl a bit taller than the Chinese woman, though still much shorter than me.

Reddish-brown hair with a greasy look, tied into a short ponytail. She looked unkempt. Her face was young, still with childlike features, marked with freckles across her nose and cheeks; pale, slightly dry skin.

Her clothes were the dirtiest part — mud, what I hoped was just mud and dirt, not blood — plus dust everywhere.

She wore dark cargo pants with a few tears here and there, and worn-out boots one or two sizes too big. A simple long-sleeved red shirt under an oversized dark-gray men’s hoodie. A backpack hung from her shoulders.

What caught my eye was the open pocketknife she was holding. She looked tense, scanning the room.

I wasn’t the first to speak — that honor went to the girl, Ellie — who stared at me for a second before turning to Maomao. She gave the Chinese woman a once-over, her lips twitching.

“And I’m the brat? Ha! You’re so fucking tiny!” she said, pointing with her free hand before bursting into laughter, folding the knife, and shoving it into her pocket.

I could almost see a vein popping on Maomao’s forehead. Her nose wrinkled in disgust.

“At least I’m clean. When was the last time you took a bath? You stink.”

This time, Ellie was the one who got pissed.

“You little—”

“Nice to meet you both!” I quickly cut in. If I didn’t, they’d start arguing — better to stop it before it began.

I took a step forward, pulling my hand out of my coat and extending it for a handshake. “I’m NotQuiteMain — Eleonore. You must be Maomao and Ellie, I assume?”

We’d already introduced ourselves in the group chat, but I figured doing it again in person wouldn’t hurt.

Both turned to me almost at the same time. Maomao spoke first, folding her long sleeves together and bowing slightly.

“Maomao. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Eleonore.” Her voice was polite and restrained — the complete opposite of the sharp tone she’d just used with Ellie.

Too polite for my taste. This was why I hated going to parties with my father — too much drama.

Ellie, on the other hand, just waved a hand.

“Yo, I’m Ellie, but you already know that. You’re tall.” She looked me up and down, sniffing the air. “And tidy. You smell like flowers. Your world really is different, huh?…”

The last part came out quieter, almost as if she was thinking aloud.

Neither of them mentioned their usernames from the group chat, but I didn’t bring it up.

“I guess we all are,” I said, pulling my hand back awkwardly when neither accepted the handshake. “Are the others awake yet?”

“How the hell should I know? I just walked out and ran into you two,” Ellie shrugged, the sound of clinking metal coming from her backpack.

Maomao simply shook her head.

I glanced toward doors [3] and [4]. Bella and Ashley should be there… Wait.

If I was at door [6], that meant someone was in [5], and there were only six of us in the group chat — and this was the girls’ cabin.

Did The Human lie about being a guy? Why?…

I took a step forward, grabbed the handle of door [5], and forced it to turn. It wasn’t locked; it opened easily. Inside was a room that mirrored mine — only empty.

“No one…” I muttered.

The torch beside the door was unlit, but I checked anyway. The only doors with lit torches beside them were [1], [2], [3], [4], and mine, [6].

For some reason, the group chat had skipped room [5] and put me in [6].

A cold chill crawled up the back of my neck.

I froze, startled by the sound of doors [3] and [4] opening almost at the same time. My hand flew to my chest.

The girl stepping out of door [3] had straight, heavy brown hair tied into a low, messy ponytail. She looked tired, pale, and thin.

Her face still had the features of a teenager. Brown eyes, wide and startled — like a deer’s. She glanced around with hesitant curiosity, faint shadows under her eyes.

Her clothes were what you’d expect from a generic YA protagonist: a worn-out jacket over a long-sleeved neutral-toned shirt, simple jeans, and sneakers dusted with dry soil.

Nothing about her stood out. Honestly, I couldn’t understand why the furry and the weirdo were so into her — aside from the magic-related reasons, of course.

She wasn’t ugly, just… ordinary. The “girl next door” kind of charm, I guess.

Her posture was slightly hunched, her left hand tucked into her pocket. A backpack hung from her shoulders, and in her right hand she gripped what I was almost sure was a pepper spray canister.

“This… this is real?… Magic?… Other worlds?…” she whispered so softly that even in the silence, I barely caught it.

She stumbled, nearly falling as she stepped out, catching herself on the doorframe.

Bella Swan at her finest, I thought.

Unlike her, the woman stepping out of door [4] drew my attention right away.

Ash-blond hair, dirty, cut in a messy uneven bob. Her expression was weary and drained, her skin a bit smudged. Her face was delicate, eyes a pale greenish-blue, clear and expressive.

Unlike Bella, she looked more amazed — and relieved.

Her outfit was just as I remembered: a wrinkled orange sweater, stained at the edges; a dull golden shirt underneath; and a plaid skirt streaked with dirt.

Her legs were covered by torn black tights, revealing small scratches on her pale skin. Around her neck was an orange ribbon, and on her feet, scuffed short boots.

Of the two, the president’s daughter was the first to speak.

“Thank God, I wasn’t hallucinating!” she said with genuine relief. She looked on the verge of tears, but held herself back, taking a deep breath and giving her cheeks two light slaps.

Ashley looked around, her gaze briefly landing on each of us. “Nice to meet you all, I guess. Not to be rude, but… does anyone know where the bathroom is? I need to relieve myself, I feel disgusting, and I desperately need a shower.”

She paused when her stomach growled. “And food — my kidnappers didn’t have the decency to feed me properly.”

I blinked twice, quickly.

“…I don’t know about a bathroom, but I have food in my bag. And a few extra clothes if you need them.” I turned to Ellie. “For you too, if you want.”

I’d bought an extra set of clothes for them, thinking they might need it.

Ellie looked surprised; Ashley, radiant.

[…]

Good news: there was a bathroom.

Bad news: there was only one.

After a few awkward introductions and a short exchange that lasted mere seconds, we headed to the room at the end of the hallway. Just as I expected, it was a large lounge.

There was a rectangular wooden table at the center, surrounded by chairs, sofas, and armchairs in earthy tones, covered with all sorts of cushions. The windows were shut — their glass slightly grayish — hidden behind wine-red curtains.

A thick carpet covered most of the floor, muffling footsteps and giving the place a sense of warmth — far too cozy for where we were.

If there was such a thing as comfort here, I could already guess why it existed — and I didn’t like the reason much…

On the right wall sat an unlit fireplace, logs still untouched. A lighter was hanging above it.

On the opposite side, wooden shelves stretched across nearly the entire wall. Like the ones in the bedrooms, they were spotless and free of dust — yet completely empty. The air smelled faintly of wood — not unpleasant.

To the left, there were two more doors, both made of dark wood.

The first led to a small single bathroom — just a toilet, a sink, a pentagonal mirror, and an empty medicine cabinet.

The second opened into a communal bath. Inside were twelve shower stalls, six on each side, and a large tiled tub that looked like the drained interior of a sauna.

That’s where Ashley was at the moment. She’d gone to relieve herself and then immediately jumped into the shower, wearing the clothes I’d given her. The sound of water running echoed softly from behind the door.

Ellie chose to wait her turn rather than join her.

Ashley had said she didn’t mind, given the circumstances, but Ellie refused. I didn’t ask why — she just seemed a little embarrassed.

We’d all gathered around the rectangular table.

Maomao sat neatly in the corner of the right-hand sofa, hands folded over her lap. Bella perched awkwardly on an armchair by the corner of the table, while Ellie tossed her backpack to the floor beside it and threw herself backward onto the sofa opposite Maomao.

“Holy shit, this is the softest thing I’ve ever laid on…” she said, melting into the cushions.

I shook my head, ignoring the fact that she’d just flopped down without even cleaning herself first.

I was the only one still standing.

“Before we start, we’re missing one person,” I said, glancing toward the cabin door.

“The Human. He’s probably in the men’s cabin.” Maomao nodded. “Are you going to call him? I can come with you if you’d like.”

I waved her off.

“No need. You girls can get settled — I shouldn’t take long. The other cabin’s probably right next door.” I was about to turn when a voice stopped me.

“What if the guy’s some kind of psycho or creep?” Ellie asked. “I mean, we don’t actually know him beyond those weird chat messages. You’re really going alone?”

I paused… She had a point. I hadn’t thought about that.

“None of us really know each other — not just The Human,” Maomao added.

Ellie shrugged. “Just saying. I don’t know how it works in your worlds, but in mine, we’re careful with that kind of stuff.”

Fair enough. Her world was kind of screwed up, after all. I noticed she seemed oddly fixated on the “different worlds” thing.

“...Maybe we could all go together, then?” Bella suggested, speaking for the first time. Her voice was quiet and hesitant. “Or wait for Ashley to finish her shower first?”

“No need. I doubt the Group Chat would invite an actual lunatic. But good point — I’ll be careful.” I thanked them for the advice, such as it was.

I had my Taurus, so I wasn’t defenseless.

Honestly, I didn’t think any of them would be much help if something did happen anyway.

Strength in numbers only works when your numbers aren’t a bunch of five-foot-tall teenage girls. The only one I thought might actually help in a fight was Ellie.

I took a few steps toward the door — and then something made me stop again.

Knock, knock, knock...

Three knocks echoed through the room, coming from outside the cabin door.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

A strange sense of dread and bad omen filled the room. My eyes turned toward the door.

It felt like there was a monster behind it — a predator — and my body knew, instinctively, that I was the prey.

Then, a man’s voice came from the other side.

“Excuse me, is anyone in there?”

As quickly as it came, the feeling vanished the moment I heard him speak.

I gasped, realizing I’d been holding my breath the whole time. My muscles ached from the tension.

My back was drenched in cold sweat.

…What the hell was that?! I felt like I was about to die just a second ago!

I looked around at the others. They seemed perfectly normal — just staring at the door. Not scared, not tense. Nothing.

Was that… just in my head?

Fuck, no!

I’m not crazy, and I refuse to fall into that horror-movie cliché where the main character dismisses everything as coincidence or imagination.

Ignoring the voice outside for a moment, I slipped my right hand into the back pocket of my jeans and pulled something out.

A small silver coin, about the same size — maybe a bit larger — than a dollar coin.

It was the item I’d received from the Group Chat. The description it had given me went like this:

[..]

[Name:] Seer Coin[Price:] 100 Nameless Coins[Place of Origin:] Lord of Mysteries[Description:] An ancient silver coin, slightly darkened by time, its edges covered in unreadable inscriptions. On one side, the engraving of a pupil-less eye; on the other, a crown made of contorted lines.

The coin contains the power of a Seer.

[Ability:] The coin can be used three times per day for divination. Before using it, the user must repeat a single question aloud seven times, focusing entirely on the intent behind it. Then, the user must toss the coin into the air, catch it with one hand, and flip it onto the back of the other.

[Eye = Yes][Crown = No]

Note: Using the coin daily may have consequences.

[..]

I’d heard of Lord of Mysteries before transmigrating, but I’d never read it — a shame, really. After getting the coin, I searched the internet in this world to see if the story existed. Sadly, nothing.

Still, it was an extremely useful item — and I’d been thrilled when the Chat gave it to me. I’d tested it over the past two days and it hadn’t failed once, so I had some confidence in it.

Mentally, I repeated the question seven times: “Is it safe to open the door?”

After the seventh repetition, I tossed the coin into the air.

I could feel, in some strange instinctive way, that one of my daily uses had been consumed. The coin spun a few times before landing back in my palm. I flipped it onto the back of my left hand.

“Eye…” I murmured.

A yes. It was safe to open the door.

Feeling slightly reassured, I slipped the coin back into my pocket, ignored the stares from Maomao, Ellie, and Bella, and walked toward the door.

It had no peephole. Grabbing the handle, I hesitated for a heartbeat before finally turning it and opening the door.

Frankly, I didn’t know what to expect from The Human — but what I saw still surprised me.

He was a man, as he’d said. Tall. I was fairly tall for a woman — about 1.75 meters (5'9") — and my boots added a couple more centimeters, so I was close to 1.80 meters (5'11").

Even so, I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. Eye, actually — the right one. The left was hidden behind a black eyepatch.

He had to be at least 1.90 meters (6'3"), maybe taller.

His skin was fair and healthy, his face sharply defined, clean-shaven except for his eyebrows. Short, messy black hair. His visible eye was amber-brown.

He looked to be in his mid-twenties — not quite thirty yet, maybe twenty-four or five.

He wore simple clothes: a black short-sleeved shirt that did a terrible job hiding how well-built he was, loose gray sweatpants, and a pair of black shoes.

His left arm was completely wrapped in white gauze, all the way to his fingertips.

No visible accessories besides the eyepatch.

I had to stop myself from biting my own fist.

Fuck—he was exactly my type. Goddammit!

At least now I had my doubts about whether or not he was your typical harem isekai protagonist. Those guys were usually scrawny little things—and there was nothing scrawny or little about that man.

The Human had a calm, gentle smile on his face as he looked at me. The exchange of glances lasted maybe one, two seconds before he finally spoke:

“Nice to meet you, Eleonore.”

[...]---[...]

Well, characters introduced. In the next chapter, they’ll head out on their first introductory mission — something simple.

Once again, if you’d like to see a specific character or a particular mission world, just let me know in the comments. Preferably, the characters shouldn’t have any powers — and if they do, they should be weak ones.

They can be from any genre. I just made the first five female for the “harem protagonist” joke, but there will be male characters too.

As always, have a good night and enjoy the read!