Fuck—my life is so dope and so shit at the same time.
If I ever get hit by a truck and get isekai'd, I swear I'd be happy.
I am Quill Park. A 25-year-old male working as a team leader in the Ads Department of Elihent Corporation.
Since childhood, I've had one habit—no, a compulsion—to write stories. When I was in college, I started writing a web novel. It gained decent popularity. Encouraged, I began another one.
That also became a hit.
When I told my parents, they were happy. As money started coming in, I focused more on writing than studying. I wrote story after story, chapter after chapter. But as time passed, my ideas dried up. My stories became bland.
The readers were furious. They cursed me.
So I quit writing.
I somehow managed to graduate, joined Elihent Corporation, and have been working here for two years now.
…Man, I'm tired of this life.
And on top of that, I have to do this damn project all by myself.
Ring—
Oh. The department manager.
"Hello, sir."
"Hey, you bastard! Finish your project by tomorrow morning, or you're fired!"
Click.
He hung up.
Sigh.
Let's get going—
"Move! Move! A truck has lost control!"
Huh?
"Oh no… that truck is coming straight at me!"
Wait.
Is this… a sign?
Am I finally getting isekai'd?
Truck-kun—please hit me!!
BAM!
…Wait.
Am I still alive?
Damn it. That stupid truck had to crash into a lamppost.
I was so close to escaping this hell.
"Hey kid, watch out!!"
"Huh—?"
The lamppost—!
CRASH!
——
Whoa.
Where am I?
A huge white room… endless, silent.
Did I get isekai'd after all?
"No, mortal. You did not get 'isekai'd.'"
Who said that?
"Who are you? Where are you talking from?"
"Behind you. From the wall."
I tried to move—but couldn't.
"Wait… I can't leave this chair."
"Yes. You are bound to it for the time being."
"…And who exactly are you?"
"I am Xyraen. Manager of universes. Servant of the Great Almighty Being."
"…Manager?"
"And who is this 'Great Almighty Being'?"
"The one you call God."
God?
"Then answer me one thing. Why am I here?"
Xyraen continued calmly.
"One day, while managing universes, I noticed several new universes forming—ones I was forbidden to interfere with. Upon investigation, I discovered their origin."
"…Your stories."
My heart sank.
"The worlds you wrote became reality. You were marked as a potential threat."
"So that truck—"
"Yes. I attempted to eliminate you. But my master intervened."
"Eliminate… me?"
"He declared you a special existence. Instead of killing you, I was ordered to appoint you as the manager of those universes."
"…And if I refuse?"
"Then I send you to heaven or hell."
"…And?"
"You are going straight to hell."
"…I accept."
"Very well."
Tap.
The world vanished.
Whoa—
I was floating.
"Is this your true form, sir?"
"There is no reason for you to perceive it."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Where are we?"
"A dimension separate from time and space."
Ahead of me stretched a vast field—legendary animals and plants straight out of my novels. Beyond the borders lurked mystical beasts.
"That's the training ground."
"For whom?"
"For you—and your characters."
He pointed further.
"The Hall of Heroes. Your office. And by the riverbank—your residence."
"There's day and night… weather too."
"Yes. But nothing here ages."
(Holy cow… being a manager sounds way too luxurious. You sly old Mr. Smith—you were enjoying life while sucking mine dry.)
"I can hear you."
"…Sorry, sir."
Tap.
We appeared inside a massive room.
"That throne is yours. Suit up and come here."
Tap.
I stood inside my new home.
…This still feels unreal.
Dying and then working for God.
Slap!
Get it together. Mom and Dad would be proud.
I put on the royal, government-style attire of a fantasy world.
Way better than Mr. Smith's boring suit.
"…How do I get back to the office?"
Tap.
I was back.
"Now that you're ready, here is the universe log."
I scanned it.
1… 2… 3… 10… 11… 100… 235… 236… 300—?!
"I have to manage this many universes?!"
"No. Those are merely the novels you wrote. You are assigned twelve."
He gestured toward twelve empty seats.
"The main characters of those worlds will occupy these seats and manage them for you."
"…But I need power to control them."
"You will have it."
Flick.
A gray-and-white screen appeared.
"Writer System. Created by my master to assist your growth."
Skills appeared—powerful, absurdly so.
"But they're locked?"
"To unlock a skill, you must achieve at least 70% understanding of the main character whose world it originates from."
"…Some basics are unlocked?"
"Yes. Teleportation. Dimensional travel. Invisibility. Writing."
"That's all?"
"That is all I have time for."
Xyraen turned away.
"Choose a universe. You are on your own now."
"Wait—sir!"
Gone.
…Now I understand why Mr. Smith was always angry.
Kind sir Smith—please forgive me.
Now then.
Which universe should I choose?
"…This one."
"Open dimensional portal."
"Teleport."
——