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The Start of the Devils Escapades

  “Well, today started like any other day in winter-piss cold. I left the house with my clothes, hat, and Jericho 941 R. I walked to work today. The roads are too unpredictable in the winter to ride my motorcycle. My life has never been interesting, and I like it that way. An interesting life you have to do shit. I’m a lazy bum who carries a flask he doesn’t drink out of and a pack of lucky stars he plans to smoke on his deathbed. A strange man, but not an interesting one, but something odd happened to me on the way here. I almost got hit by a fucking truck. It felt like an opening in an isekai light novel. God, why is that the first thing I think of? I would hate being an isekai. I may hate my life, but there's plenty of shit I have to get done. I despise harem tropes. I don’t hate overpower main characters, but they do make the story kinda boring. I never want to be isekai,” I said.

  “Well, this is interesting, but wouldn’t it be cool to be this myth hero from another world, save the weak, and fight against the strong?” My coworker Steve said.

  We weren't exactly close, but we talked around the water cooler.

  “I get where you’re coming from, but I’m not a hero, and as I said before, I want lazy, uninteresting”

  We left it and got back to work. That night, Steve and I ended up going out to one of those Korean BBQ joints. We did pick up the conversation we were having earlier.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “But isn’t it everyone's dream to live in a fantasy world like Lord of the Rings or DND, and have smoking hot babes following you around?”

  “Everyone says that until you bring up that you have to shit in holes, and are more likely to die from the common cold than go through an epic adventure. All I’m saying is that food will taste bland as hell.“

  We finished our meal and decided to walk around a bit. During our walk, a man bolted right at us with a knife, and I shot twice at the man in the legs; that is why I carry a gun. I called 911 and checked his wallet. Their was nothing-just a damn John Dole. Steve was scared shitless after this event and decided to take the bus home. I kept walking home. I guess spending so much time in the range has its advantages. When I was walking home, I saw three pillars of light, and then there was a pillar of light over me. Shit. I tried to bolt it, but the light forced me to stay in place. The sound of birds chirping and the warm rays of the sun woke me up. I found myself face down in the dirt with a terrible hangover, and all the clothes I was wearing yesterday were still on. The smell of shit drew to my nose. I checked my pockets and my gun- nothing missing, nothing loaded. All is good. Now I need to know where the fuck I am. The memories of last night came back to me: waking, shooting, and being overtaken by light. Shit. I checked my surroundings. All I could see around me was trees and a trail that seemed to increase in height. I took the trail, hoping I could get a good view of my surroundings. I made it to the top, my head killing me, and the bright sun blinding me. I felt like death, but pushed on. It was a truly wonderful scene, but I’m sure as shit not where I live. I saw a castle in the far distance, and I think I saw a monster. If I knew one thing I’m damn sure I’m not on Earth.

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