Chapter 1: Chapter I – In which our titular protagonist most expectedly kicks the bucket.

In a galaxy, not so far away to readers residing on Earth, there in an island nation called Japan, lived an errant man called Watanabe. Actually, statistically, there live and have lived a whole lot of people called Watanabe, for Watanabe is the fifth most common Japanese surname. But, dear reader, I encourage you to forget about all the other Watanabes that may or may not exist, for our dear friend Watanabe was the most special Watanabe of all. Out of all Watanabes whom Watanabe’d, he was more Watanabe, and dare I say that, and if I am to lie may my author license be revoked and I receive a hundred lashings for my transgressions against all Watanabehood, he was the most Watanabe out of them all.

Are you tired of the word “Watanabe” yet? I sure am. Let’s move on to where this story was supposed to go. Ahem…

Our titular hero Watanabe who was a man that once had many dreams and plans in life. He wanted to win the Nobel Prize, he wanted to become an astronaut and he also had once told his elementary school teacher that he wanted to become a cicada, which is a dream that is only reserved for the most ambitious of minds such as Watanabe.

Unfortunately, these dreams of his quickly died once he experienced high school and his last vestiges of humanity were stripped away from him as he became a low-level office worker in many a random Japanese company. Suffering from high doses of alienation due to his mechanical and mundane work, our protagonist began looking at outlets with which he would tear himself free of his meaningless drudgery and free himself he did, only if temporarily through the format of escapist isekai stories.

There, in those holy scriptures did he find worlds filled with damsels in distress, waiting for generic young men with dark hair and an even darker attitude to save them. Worlds in which losers like Watanabe had a chance at being a hero, where he would be the one to save the world from some demon king or other great threat. Worlds in which he didn’t have to work twenty-four eight with extra added unpaid overtime just to afford the smallest apartment the world had ever laid eyes upon. A world in which he would taste exotic food and not the instant cup-noodles that he could barely afford.

A world in which Watanabe was the focus, the hero, the protagonist, a world where he wasn’t the most lay of laypersons nor the most prole of the proles.

So, did his days go by to-and-fro, with such mundaneness that the English language has no singular words found within which to describe the levels of mundane that the author is trying to convey. His days were mundane like salt water in an ocean, like sand in a desert, like snow on a mountain. His life was as bland as a toast sandwich, as unleavened bread, as a stale bagel.

You know what, dear reader; I tire of these banalities. I could continue about this man’s insignificant life and write a whole novel about how uninteresting he was while on this earth. However, this story is supposed to be a most ordinary power-fantasy isekai which this man gets what he wants so that we can project ourselves onto him and feel like we’re the one getting the harem. I will save everyone’s precious time here and cut to the chase.

One day, like many other days, Watanabe had just gotten out of his job on Sunday at 8 PM. He was tired, from having to literally work all week for the last three years and wasn’t the most alert to the goings-on around him. To find his way around Watanabe was instinctively following the huge crowd of pedestrians around the city as he made way for his apartment, stopping where the crowd stopped and walking where the crowd walked.

Suddenly, while crossing the street, Watanabe felt his phone ringing. Not wanting to be chastised if the one ringing was his boss or another superior, Watanabe immediately tried digging the phone out of his pockets, to no avail.

Distracted by his phone, Watanabe hadn’t noticed that he had stopped in the middle of a busy street crossing and that the lights turned green. Thankfully, a random youth nearby who had crossed street had noticed him, and shouted, “Sir, the lights!”

Watanabe was suddenly awakened by the shout, and having finally found his ringing phone at the same time, ran towards the sidewalk, phone-in-hand, saving himself from a truck who was speeding towards Watanabe with unmatched bloodlust.

Having saved himself from being killed by a truck, Watanabe fell victim to tunnel vision. He failed to notice a bucket, left behind by cleaning staff of a shop on the sidewalk, and ran foot-first towards said bucket. Kicking the bucket full of water, Watanabe lost his balance and plunged head-first towards the pavement, leading him to prematurely give up the ghost.

“Number 792, Haruto Watanabe, please enter Room 101. Number 792, Haruto Watanabe…”

Watanabe, who had just met his end, was now standing in the most sterile looking room that he had ever seen in his entire life and death. The floor, walls and ceiling were all pure white, except for a simple door in front of him which was deep black, in contrast to the rest of the scene.

“Number 792, Haruto Watanabe, please enter Room 101. Number 792, Haruto Watanabe…”

The surrounding was silent, except for an alarm calling Watanabe to enter a “Room 101”, which the concept of Room 101 might have terrified him a little if Watanabe had read something other than isekai. The door had black markings written around it that looked like written text of some description, though Watanabe couldn’t discern anything about what might be written.

“Number 792, Haruto Watanabe, please enter Room 101. Number 792, Haruto Watanabe…”

Watanabe was anxious, his knees shaking and palms sweating. Why wouldn’t he be nervous? He was in an alien environment, not to mention the fact that the poor man died a couple minutes ago. There was more than enough reason for him to be disoriented.

Slowly and surely though, Watanabe calmed down. The gears in his head started turning as he realized what scenario he was in, leading him to speak for the first time in this entire chapter as he shouted gaily like no man before him had ever done before.

“Finally,” he began “Finally my exciting journey to another world begins!” Of course, he didn’t actually utter these words exactly, he was speaking Japanese, but thanks to the oh-so genius contrivances of the author who translated his words perfectly as if he had been speaking English all along the readers could understand what he said.

“Number 792, Haruto Watanabe, please enter Room 101. Number 792, Haruto Watanabe…”

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Having shouted like an unhinged madman at the white corridor, Watanabe’s focus shifted towards the strange black door, as his imagination began going wild.

What could be behind this most mysterious door that Watanabe laid his eyes upon?

Could there be an angel, or a goddess, ready to give Watanabe a quest to slay the demon lord, along with all the requisite cheat skills requisite for his hallowed mission? Surely the goddess or angel behind the door would have divine beauty, for that is how it works in scenarios that deal with men being sent to another world, but Watanabe worried greatly about her disposition. Would she be kind, or would she be a useless megalomaniac? Watanabe didn’t care either way as long as he got his cheat skills and equipment, but depending if her personality and looks suited his taste, he might consider the person behind the door to be the first member of his new harem.

Oh, what joy! Oh, what luck to it is to get a member of the harem so quickly! The thought that if he kept up this brisk pace, he’d be adding a new member to his harem every chapter overjoyed Watanabe.

“Number 792, Haruto Watanabe, please enter Room 101. Number 792, Haruto Watanabe…”

Watanabe invoked the name of each and every hallowed thing he knew of, starting from Athena and ending with Zoroaster, praying to make sure that his first harem member was a suitable one before gently opening the door to see…

“Hello sir, how may I help you?”

…a man wearing a plain white mask in a formal business suit, who was sitting at a very plain desk with an old-looking computer and landline phone on it.

Stupefied for a moment, Watanabe blankly stared at the man for a few seconds until managing to concoct a reply.

“Uhm… Mr. Mask, is this the wrong room?” he said, “I was expecting a beautiful goddess, not a masked creep like you.” Watanabe continued to look at the masked man with stupendous disappointment, trying to rationalize the scene in front of him.

The masked man too, was frankly stupefied at Watanabe’s reaction, too stupefied to be even offended at being called a ‘masked creep’, and said matter-of-factly, “Sir, did you not read the writing outside? This is the Customer Support Department of the Tuvan International Army.”

Watanabe was even more puzzled, “The Customer Support Department of the Toba Inter-what Army?”

“It’s ‘Tuvan Interdimensional Army’, sir. The TIA deals with time paradoxes, interdimensional tourism and many other services related to time. You’re in the department where one usually places complaints about their experience with our organization.” Finishing speaking, the masked man sighed and added, “Though, as you can notice from the plain environment and lack of employees here, we are the most underfunded department.”

Watanabe nodded in agreement. “Indeed, customer support is always the must underfunded in these big companies.” The room was silent for a second as no one spoke after reaching this agreement, until Watanabe suddenly began shouting in confusion. “Wait, why am I nodding as if everything’s normal? What are you, what is an Interdimensional Army, why am I here and where is the beautiful goddess that I was promised?!”

The masked man, also reaching a sudden realization, began suspecting why he might have this puzzled man in front of him. Ignoring Watanabe’s lamentations, he quickly called another department to ask them if they had scheduled anyone named “Haruto Watanabe” to be summoned to the TIA building. Quickly confirming a few details over the phone, the masked man ended the call and began conveying the mistake that had happened to Watanabe.

“I- I am most sorry sir, but it seems that they summoned you over here to prevent an event called a ‘World War III’ and transfer you over to a new place, but accidentally ended up sending you over to the customer support department.”

The masked man trying to calm down and explain the situation to Watanabe only served to confuse him more as he began shouting erratically. “When did World War III get involved in this?! I only demand a proper and simple reincarnation, with a beautiful goddess and bountiful skill cheats, and if you won’t be giving me one, I will be seeing your manager and reporting you for failing the proper isekai-ing routine!” He stopped here to catch a breath, “I also want to see the author who is beginning my adventure with such an absurd situation, I’ll be officially filing a complaint telling them that they failed at their job of creating a prologue for an isekai story!”

The masked man who was used to hysteric customers, hardened by years of experience in customer support, ignored Watanabe and continued to speak over him.

“Sir, I’ll be correcting this mistake immediately, and will be transferring you to this new world as planned sir.” he said quickly, hoping to get rid of Watanabe quickly.

Watanabe, with many question marks left unanswered in his mind, like how he arrived here in the first place, where the beautiful goddess was and how sending him to another world would apparently prevent another World War, suddenly felt as if gravity had disappeared. The masked man too, had joined gravity in disappearing out of sight with his office. All Watanabe could see was an unending void of white, in which he was floating in.

“Masked man? Where are you, I still have many things to ask and complain about! Be a man and come out you gutless cur!”

Alas, there was no reply to the cries of the now even more estranged Watanabe. Slowly, after a few minutes of nothing, Watanabe felt his consciousness fade as the white void he was in was replaced by a dark void, feeling as if he had died for a second time in the same chapter.

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