8 hours a day. 40 hours a week. Same work, repeated every single day.
Gosh, I wish that were my life. Unfortunately, I instead have to work 12 hours a day, 6 days a week—yes, I need to work on Saturday as well! SAT-TUR-DAY! FUCK!
Anyway, 72 hours a week. Wage? Minimum. Inflation? Never-stopping. Rents? Keep rising. Depression? It's fucking real!
["Mr. Anderson, your receipt."]
I was currently sitting in front of my phone, watching a video—a freely accessible show in MyTube platform.
In the video, a woman then slapped the man named Mr. Anderson.
["Here you go."]
["You bitch!"]
Then, before Mr. Anderson could do anything, an ad break. Fuck!
Genuinely pissed off, I turned off the phone. Stood up. The anger—piled up from all the work and stress and I was handed every single day—was attempting to manipulate me into throwing this phone of mine into oblivion. Unfortunately, my rationality won; devices are expensive, after all.
"Come on, Meyer," I said to myself as I massaged my face, "Today is literally your day of rest in a week! Don't get any more stressed from here—for fuck's sake! I don't want to be on meds! They are expensive and you have no insurance!"
Feeling that I needed some fresh air, I impulsively turned and walked toward the rusty door—rusty but sturdy enough to prevent the entry of roughly 9.8765% of professional robbers.
Reaching the door handle, I rotated it and, yeah, opened it.
"Huh?"
What was unveiled in front of me wasn't the usual scene that should've awaited me—the depressing residence area full of tall condos. I mean, my room was in one of these condos.
Instead, I got the patch of grass. Blue sky. Where did those buildings go?
I pinched my cheeks. The anxiety, depression, anger—they instantly dissipated within me. I took a step out, toward this land of willllddddd.
I turned instinctively. The door that I stepped past was gone. My room was gone. My...
"Huh?"
Wait, where did the door go?
I blinked, trying to register what just happened.
"Uh... I should pinch my cheek—no, I already did. Yes, Meyer, this is the reality."
I blinked once more. I scratched my head. I frowned slightly, trying to think what just happened while protecting my eyes from the happily shining sun above.
Many ideas went through my head. Eventually, one thought popped into my mind.
That One Time Where I Transmigrated-Reincarnated-Regressed as the 17-Year-Old Highschooler In the Isekai World and Became the World's Strongest Hero with five SSS-Ranked Skill~ All The Girls Are Throwing Themselves At Me~
It was one title that I came across while surfing the internet. I remember the title vividly because over a thousand people reviewed the novel and the rating was 1.0, the lowest possible rating on the platform.
I remember, there was that one specific, dumbass review that said: "Burn this shit. Imma burn this shit for seven days straight and burn again until not even the tiniest particle of ash remains. Isekai this and that. I am sick of Isekai this and that, man. Why the freaking helling fucking fuck must you write this shit?"
Heh, that was actually amusing—wait.
"Huh?"
Isekai. Isekai, wait.
Did I transmigrate?
Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh?
Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh?
At last, my brain short-circuited.
"Fuck yes! To hell with that job!"
I was no longer obliged to go to the job that I could, technically, quit anytime I wanted—
"Huh?"
Wait.
No job meant no money. No money meant no food, no house, no...
I looked down at myself. There was my body, clothed.
And nothing more. I didn't even bring my phone with me.
"I'm fucked."
Kak-kak-kak.
As if laughing at me, a crow cried as it flew past the sky above me.
Then, that same crow casually landed on the grassy plain, on its... wings instead of legs. Its thin legs were straightened up to the sky, and therefore, it had its beak almost touching the dirt, brushing against the grass. It was on a handstand... no, a wingstand.
The crow began moving under my watch, or tried to, before it collapsed upon attempting to take the first step.
I mean, that was expected. How can the crow do a wingstand?
Now, its beak was deep in the dirt. It shook its body in an attempt to break itself from this position, but the force wasn't enough.
"Just use your wings, moron! They're strong enough to succeed a wingstand anyway!"
I shouted without thinking. Then I remembered that crows don't speak English—
The crow stopped moving. Then, it pushed its body against the ground using its wings, and successfully broke from the constraints of the ground!
The crow flapped its wings to fly back up. Without soaring high up, it approached me.
"I knew that, bro."
Then, it spoke to me, yes, SPOKE.
"Huh?" I was dumbfounded.
"Don't try to lecture me when you can't even figure out where you are, dumbass."
The crow then flapped its wings again, flying away from me before I could retort.