"I'm being reincarnated into another world with a pair of magical glasses?!" Anon uttered in disbelief, his jaw open wide. Just a few minutes ago he was browsing 4chan on the cusp of New Year's Eve, having successfully wasted yet another year of his life doing nothing of value, when he found himself suddenly summoned to the throne room of a powerful, otherworldly being. Defying all logic, he'd been transported into a hall of mind-boggling size, with towering pillars that extended into the ceiling far above, and a beautiful golden throne, atop which the white-robed God Of Humanity sat and presided over our plane. She was a woman, and she was black. A look of pity crossed over the being's face, before she extended her hand, and beamed the cause of his summons directly into his brain as pure information, prompting his earlier outburst.

"I'm afraid so. I am truly sorry, child of Yakub, but there was a clerical error in Heaven. You were supposed to be stillborn, but your soul mistakenly developed, so as to restore balance to the plane you had to be smited. It was sudden and with no warning, but it is done. You can never go back."
Anon was taken aback at the revelation; it was so ridiculous he wanted to laugh, but between his sudden summons and the telepathic information transfer, he couldn't discard the possibility that she was telling the truth. But that opened its own can of horrors—he was reluctant, unwilling, to admit that this person person before him really was God. What rational person would? He had to be dreaming, or maybe there was something wrong with that weed he smoked earlier. To start with, he was a firm non-believer, hadn't gone to church in years, so did that mean that he was going to hell? A staunch Christian upbringing brought images of hellfire and purgatory to the forefront of his mind, and guilt he hadn't felt since childhood Sunday school flared at the thought of many sins he could suddenly list. He hadn't been a particularly good person, had he? The implications of an eternity of punishment began to weigh on him like lead, and he suddenly felt very much alone, and afraid.

"Nigga, relax!" God suddenly snapped.

"Ain't nobody getting sent to hell! I told you telepathically—your ass is getting sent to another world, remember? And I'm hooking you up with a pair of them magic glasses! They's a divine artifact, they gone help you, uh, scan them fantasy world niggas and identify artifacts and shit. So, you can trade your old boring ass life for a new life of adventure, riches, and hoes! Not a bad deal, right? We like to have fun around here! Don't know why you little niggas think I'm so doom and gloom."

A portal opened up, leading to a medieval, vaguely European-looking city.

"I don't give a damn what you get up to. Murder, rape—I know you niggas love rape—as long as you don't deliberately end all life on the planet, or try to cultivate the galaxy to power your ballsack on some chinese shit, we won't have a problem. Oh, and here's a magical bag of holding, it's got a million gold inside it, you're welcome." She told him, handing him a non-descript leather bag he was startled to find he could instinctively summon and dispel with a thought. Plot contrivances done and over with, he stepped through the magic gate and found himself a newly made millionaire in a world unlike his own, a sprawling medieval metropolis, lined with streets of cobble, carriages pulled by fantastical beasts, and most amazing of all—people casually performing magic in the open. He walked while saying nothing—now wearing his newly adquired magic glasses. He simply observed, drinking in the fantastical sights. He'd been teleported right into the very hub of the city, and a dense mass of people swarmed him as they went to and from stores, handling strange materials and goods, and wearing all kinds of exotic clothing.

"I really am in another world." He murmured to himself, as the reality of the situation settled on him fully. This was real, it was his life now. He would never see his family again, sure, but they all hated him anyway, didn't they? He'd never had any friends, either, and at least here, he could become something else. With the magic bag and artifact that God had given him, he'd find his way in this new world and carve his name into the annals of their history. He would become someone that mattered, he swore it!

"Hey there!" A voice called out, and he turned towards it. A man was coolly leaning against a wall near an alley, watching him carefully.
"Are you perhaps looking for special merchandise? You can't find this stuff in most places. I may have what you want, if you'll follow me."

The fact that he could understand him was reassuring. He'd been so busy gawking at the sights he hadn't stopped to check the common tongue. It was very hard to believe English had independently developed in another world, so he figured God's magic was at play here, providing him with a universal translator. That said, this man seemed extremely untrustworthy, and was trying to lure him into a back alley. Had he seen him as a wide-eyed tourist, an easy mark to rob? Now that he realized it, the crowd around him had been thinning for a good while, and this part of town wasn't as clean and well-mantained as the main road was...

"No thank you." He told him, and began to walk away, before noticing that the man was following. He stopped mid-stride and looked back, to find the man come to a stop as well. They faced each other like that for a few moments. The inevitability of conflict is startling when it hits you, but it's very easy to accept. He was getting mugged, he supposed. The scant few people around them didn't seem to be paying them attention and Anon sincerely doubted they would report any crime that took place. He was prepared to book it, but if there was some cheat hidden in his glasses that would help him out of his situation, he would gladly welcome it...

Almost as if responding to his desire, a deep voice that seemed to emanate from his artifact itself spoke directly into his mind.
'Seeing through the Gold-Tilted Glasses is seeing the world through the eyes of a God. No command can be resisted—'
That's as much as the voice said before the man lunged forward, and revealed he was brandishing a knife. Thankfully, he was far away enough that Anon could move back and yell 'Stop!' at the top of his lungs—which prompted the man to immediately go still with his arms at his sides, his expression vacant.

'—nor information be kept hidden,' the voice continued. He discovered a mental switch he could toggle, which allowed him to scan any target in his line of sight for information. Suddenly, the man's personal details, stats, and information appeared in his field of view, which he could dim, overlay, or even shrink in size as he wished. Anon let out a low whistle—this cheat really was something else. He quickly scanned the crowd, and noticed a few pair of curious eyes had turned towards the scene; the man standing in place looking dazed being fairly conspicuous. Before anything else, he had to do some clean up.

◇◇◇

Some altered memories later, Anon made his way back to the city's commercial hub hardly able to contain his excitement. He could command anyone to do anything, and instantly appraise the quality of any item, or the strength of a person. Paired with the million gold in his bag, there was very little in the way of him doing, well, whatever he wanted. But what did he want to do first?

"That'll be 10,000 Gold Pieces. Are you sure you can afford it?" A grizzled blacksmith asked him, giving him a funny look. He'd headed for the biggest-looking smithing shop in town, recognizing it by the hammer and anvil sign in the front, and ordered the most expensive blade they had in stock. He supposed he didn't really look like a typical rich person did, but that would be fixed—he'd go shopping for some nice clothes next.

As he exited the shop, a baffled shopkeep waving him goodbye as he clutched his new gleaming, sturdy blade, Anon felt there was something missing. The sword was nice, and the cheats and magic were everything he'd ever dreamed of...yet, he felt his isekai experience was lacking in something. The sun was beginning to set now, and the crowds beginning to thin, but the air was still alive with the buzz of conversation. The very first lanterns were being lit as the sky darkened, and Anon made his way to a tavern, following the natural flow of people–as the city's busy day ended, so did the night life begin. He took a table somewhat out of the way, and was content to blend into the background.

"And what can I get for you today, sir?" A barmaid asked, smiling brightly at him. Her eyes were a beautiful icy blue, and her breasts heavy and lovely. Anon's mood brightened—so long as beautiful women existed in this world, too, he would manage.
"Hey, I'm new to town—do you know where the Adventurer's Guild is?" He asked her. It was the crux of any isekai adventure, the classic ranked system almost designed for an otherworlder to climb with their cheat abilities. A path to easy glory and power. He was really hoping it existed in this world, as well.

"Oh, are you an Adventurer? Yeah, you'll find it a little off the main road, you're going to want to follow here..." With practiced ease, she took out a page from her small notebook and drew a rudimentary map to the place. With this bit of knowledge, Anon's firm foothold in another world was all but secured.
"Thank you so much! Oh, one more thing..."

In the backroom and away from the crowds, grunting could he heard coming from behind the sacks of flour, subdued but still there. The owner went to check it out once, but came out with a hazy smile on his face, forgetting he ever went there. The beautiful blonde barmaid mewls under Anon as he thrust into her, breathing heavily. This was it, this was what he was missing. He needed to lose his virginity to a beautiful girl utterly under his control, controlled by his unfair powers. He thought back to God as he bottomed out inside the young girl, and released loads of his hot seed into her fertile snatch. She was right, he loved rape

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Pub: 31 Dec 2024 21:29 UTC

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