1-1 NEET Goes to Another World

"Ahh, so bored."

Me, Konno Yohei. Unemployed. Nearing the end of my third year as a full-blown NEET.

Right now, I'm just rolling around on my bed.

Parents died in an accident ages ago. Haven't talked to my siblings in forever. No contact with relatives either.

Living off the inheritance they left behind and the cash I've raked in from old side hustles over the years. No interest in blowing money on luxuries or going out, so my expenses are basically zilch. Lets me scrape by just fine.

Of course, no fancy gadgets lying around. Except for one exception.

The massive computer dominating the center of my room? I hand-picked and assembled every part myself. Perverted specs that could probably smoke some company's mainframe.

When I get sick of sleeping, I reread comics or mess around online with this beast to kill time.

"Anything fun going on? Hmm... Oh? There's some weird shit in the government's virtual space."

I punch in the address, and the screen lights up with net intel... Nah, that's old-school. These days, the net's a full-on 3D virtual expanse.

Over three years ago, I stumbled on this open virtual space used by government staff—somehow left unsecured. I peek in now and then for kicks. Leaking info to stir up scandals might be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fun, but as a time-killer? Kinda meh.

Stuff like "Ambassador so-and-so's into kids and grannies alike, total creep" is amusing enough. But mostly it's number salads and stiff reports that only insiders get.

Still, sneaking peeks like this feels like spy games, so I keep some spyware tucked in there for casual nibbles.

And in that space, I spot something way out of place—barricaded behind ridiculously heavy defenses.

It's like they knew someone would try breaking in. Overkill for classified data. And the barriers? A jumbled mess of ancient relics mixed with cutting-edge tech. What the hell's the point?

"When they go that far... makes me wanna crack it. If they counter, I just bail—no trace. Let's see."

I unleash my NEET-honed hacker skills, peeling back the walls one by one.

Surprisingly doable.

Open this one... Huh, it's not even active... Wait, trying to disable it triggers an attack?

Yeah... Hmm.

Oh, got it. Wait, just a leftover message?

...?

Sure, why not. I'll reply yes.

Whoa!?

What the—? It's gone.

Eh, whatever. Probably some fellow virtual troll killing time, same as me.

"Meh, close enough."

First event-like thing in ages... though the payoff was a total letdown.

I flop back onto the bed, muttering about how work sucks and I'm beat.

I wake up to maroon carpet, walls decked with paintings, and neat shelves of fancy books.

Where the hell am I?

This ain't my dump of a room!

"Yo, came to pick you up."

A voice behind me. I turn—there's a cocky-looking kid lounging on a plush sofa, legs crossed.

Pure white suit-like getup, hair just as pristinely white.

Got a thing for white, huh?

"...Where am I? What is this place?"

"Hm? Eh, does it matter? More importantly, you're the guy who applied for the otherworld trip, right?"

The White-Haired Kid tilts his head, lifts a teacup daintily, and sips like some aristocrat.

"...Applied? You the one who sent that weird message?"

"Yeah, that. I was gonna stream it your way, but you'd already cracked the walls and read it. Threw me for a loop."

"You with the government or something?"

"Huh? Nah, no way."

"Then what are you? This some... virtual space? Feels off."

Everything's got this grayish haze.

Close to diving into virtual space, but not quite.

Uncannily real.

"Oh, you noticed? Yeah, kinda like your world's virtual spaces. But careful—this place has no time, no space."

"Looks pretty real to me."

"Just an illusion. Stay in this room, you won't die. Leaving's tricky, though."

What the actual fuck?

"So, what's your angle?"

"Huh, told you already. Checking if you're game for the otherworld jaunt."

"...For real? Like, another world?"

"Ah, you hit yes on a whim, huh? Figured—skipped proper channels. Anyway, that's why the final confirmation. If it's a mix-up, no hard feelings. You can back out. Still time."

The White-Haired Kid grimaces lightly, then shoots me an annoyed look.

"Hold up. This is all outta left field. If other worlds are real, sure, I'd love a peek. But depends on the purpose, the destination—y'know?"

Might be a dream.

But dream or not, skipping something this intriguing would suck.

"Fair enough. Quick rundown: My goal's reconnaissance. You go in my stead, give a casual report on what's there, how folks live. The world... lemme check."

The White-Haired Kid waves a hand, fiddling with something invisible, humming and nodding as he scans.

"The spot I want you for... uh, you play games?"

"Some."

"Cool. Ever done RPGs with jobs and skills?"

"Classic stuff. Haven't touched offline RPGs lately, but I've maxed MMOs like that."

"Maxed 'em, huh... Makes it easier, then. Looks like a world running a Job and Skill system."

"Jobs and skills? Not like 'unemployed' or 'banker,' right?"

"Nah. Combat RPG style—Swordsman, Mage, that vibe. Details are fuzzy."

"Fuzzy? If skills are real, no perks? Convenience skills for the trip, maybe?"

"Nope. Getting to go is the perk."

"R-Right... But you could drop dead on arrival, no report."

"True. That's why you're not solo. Relax."

"Not relaxing!"

This kid (god?) drops it so casually—terrifying.

"Eh, I'll drop you somewhere safe. No instant monster chow."

"...Monsters?"

"Yup. Good luck!"

"For real? Total game world."

"Your world's the outlier—no monsters. Most nearby realms are monster paradises."

"Seriously? Nearby realms..."

"Other worlds mean multiples, yeah? Close ones, far ones. Yours' neighbors? Monster central."

"Hang on. You not going yourself—'cause of distance?"

"Sharp. Yeah, too far for me. That's why agents like you."

"Like me?"

"Virtual space dabblers. Otherworld-savvy."

"Virtual spaces and other worlds... linked?"

"Duh. Virtual's unreal space tech. Basically otherworld lite."

He snickers mockingly. Annoying little tics.

"Huh."

"Normies puke or shatter on transfer."

"Puke?"

"Yeah. Bad cases? Mind breaks, dead."

"That's beyond puking!"

But if this is legit...

Other worlds are real. Kinda hyped now.

"You a god? Fourth-dimensional being?"

"Haha, nah. Kinda god-like? But I don't buy it."

"Gotcha."

Wonder what this brat really is. Whatever.

"So, you in or out? FYI, no coming back."

"If it's real, I'm in. Sick of this world."

"O-Oh. Cool, then. No complaints."

"Lonely, no attachments anyway. Need prep?"

"Nah, consent's all—transfer prepped."

"W-Wait. Can't take stuff from here?"

"Clothes, maybe. Too much? Otherworld sickness. Mind break."

"Mind break again!? What the hell?"

"That's otherworlds for ya."

"...Right."

No cheats? Wanted Earth gear for an edge. No dice.

Not even my phone.

Rummaging pockets, I find one device.

"Hey, this terminal okay?"

Tiny virtual space connector—fits in my palm easy.

"Hm? Virtual thing?"

"Yeah. Simple controls, pocket-sized. Counts as clothes?"

"Eh, sure. Worst case, you die."

"...Yeah. Thanks."

"Alrighty. Transfer time—knock 'em dead!"

"Wait, how do I report?"

"I'll reach out. Just gist on the world. Live free otherwise."

"Got it. Later."

"Yeah, see ya."

Kid waves—door at back swings open, revealing glowing wall.

"Through here?"

"Yup. Don't stop midway. Mind break."

"Again!? Fine. Bracing myself."

Push through the light—emerge in an empty tiny room.

"...Otherworld already?"

Try unfolding the virtual terminal. Nada.

"Wait. No virtual space?"

Virtual ops—my one Earth talent. Losing it? Panic mode.

"Shit... Coulda warned me... Part of the report?"

Slumping, fiddling with the terminal—sudden unfamiliar display.

Whoa, what's this? Virtual space's busted, but game UI pops up.

Fits the otherworld vibe. Eyes on the status. Job auto-assigned? Interferer, huh.

Otherworlder perk? But "None" next to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it. NEET stays NEET—rude.

Bonuses like "Attack," "Defense"—straight RPG stats. G rank high or low? Gotta be low.

All G. Meh.

"Status View" skill explains this readout. Normals can't see? Or standard here?

"Status Operation" too. Let's poke.

Oh, name change. Swap to my usual game handle.

Job... Huh?

Can swap Interferer. Freely changeable? Options...

Traveler (1)

Citizen (1)

Thug (1)

Lame lineup.

"Job Addition"—adds new ones? "None" is slot two empty.

Set to Traveler. Done.

Stamina bumped nice. Traveler skill: Status Proof. Test it... Oh, new window.

Clean and simple. Wait, not Japanese. Local tongue? But readable... That fake-god kid set it up? Coulda said—tsundere punk.

Status Proof shows ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠name, crimes, etc. Useless!

Try Citizen.

Residence Proof? Like certifying you're legit resident?

Uuuuseleeeess...

Ditching Interferer might lock Status Operation, so keep it primary.

Secondary... Traveler it is. Stamina boost's subtle but nice.

Thug skill? Intimidate. Scares weak-willed foes, probably.

Whatever.

Comments, ratings, and such make me do a happy dance.

Planning no replies to focus on writing/editing time.

But I read every one. Staring intently.

Your cheers are my fuel.