Prologue: Another World!
"Fuck that retarded horse!"
I ripped up the betting ticket clutched in my hand, spitting curses. It was my first time at the racetrack, I hadn't wagered much, and I wasn't even there to enjoy it—but watching the horse I'd bet on come in dead last felt like running into a troll in an online game. The frustration was real.
"Ugh, shit. Of course. As if my shitty life would ever catch a break."
My name is Jeong Sema. It was January, the start of a new year, and I was turning 29—30 this year—an unemployed NEET. Despite the chill, it was a clear, pleasant weekend, and like any jobless middle-aged guy with nothing better to do, I'd come to the racetrack. I hadn't always been a bum. Back in my early twenties, before enlisting in the army, I'd had it pretty good: decent looks, 178cm height, top grades, a confident personality, a comfortably wealthy family (not rich, but solidly upper-middle-class), and plenty of friends. I was the kind of guy who turned heads.
But after returning from service and getting involved with the wrong woman, my life went straight to hell. Trauma set in, I lost all motivation, and six years later, here I was—a shut-in. Those six years had been spent despising real women because of the trauma, diving headfirst into 2D girls and otaku culture instead.
"Sigh... What a waste. No fun at all."
No matter how deep into my otaku NEET life I was, I still had a few friends. Just after New Year's, I'd gone out drinking with some old high school buddies for the first time in ages. One of them, who'd worked part-time at a racetrack, suggested we check it out for a change of pace. I hadn't thought much of it at the time, but that morning, the idea popped into my head out of nowhere, and I'd come without a second thought.
"...Fuck, why the hell is some bitch wandering around a racetrack?"
A young woman who looked like a college student walked by, and the words slipped out under my breath. The trauma had twisted me worst when it came to women. More precisely, my view of them had warped completely. Before, I'd had zero interest in 2D girls; like any normal guy, I chased after pretty real-life ones. I even held old-fashioned views: women should be demure, and men should protect them.
But after the trauma, "demure" women were just backstabbing whores waiting to betray and scam men. The "right" kind of woman? One who dressed like a slut from an adult manga, spread her legs in total submission for the man she loved—like a slave. That was a woman's true role. My gaze on real women had gone completely insane.
Of course, rationally, I knew it was crazy. But the trauma burned into my eyes and brain had fused with the 2D girls who'd soothed my urges for six years, reshaping my worldview. Without imagining women as absolute-submission pervert slaves, I couldn't cope with those six years.
"Mood changer, my ass... Just wasted time. Better head home and spin up some horse girl vids... tch."
A long-time shut-in who'd only gotten into games and otaku stuff post-trauma wasn't going to find any fun solo at a racetrack. It was obvious. Turning 30 had me feeling trapped, so I'd come on a whim, but the bright sun, open park-like grounds, excited uncles, and families here and there? Not exactly uplifting for a traumatized basement dweller.
"Did I save the Horse Girl OST on my phone? ...Huh?"
I plugged in my earbuds and stood to leave when I spotted an obvious homeless guy—middle-aged? Old man? Hard to tell—staggering around with a bottle of soju. What the...? Isn't drinking banned here? No one else seemed to care, so I figured I'd mind my own business and go. But then...
"Urk!"
He bumped into a passerby and toppled over. Watching an old drunk hit the dirt with a weird groan wouldn't make anyone feel good. He couldn't get up, and no one—not the guy who'd hit him, not the crowd—gave a damn. I tried to walk past, but I'd already seen it. My nosy side kicked in, and my feet carried me over.
"Um... sir? You okay?"
"...?"
Choking back the booze stench, I helped him up. He stared at me like What the hell is this? Dude, that's intimidating...
"...Heh heh heh. I'm fine now, young man."
Fine is fine—why "fine now"? His speech was weird, like he was out of it. No major injuries, so time to bail.
"Glad you're okay. I'll be going then..."
"Hey, young man. Care for a chat?"
"...Pardon?"
Chat? Why's this homeless dude latching on after a little help? Should've minded my business. But his next words blew my thoughts away.
"I've got a proposal just for you... You've been suffering over a woman since coming back from the army, right?"
**************************************************
"So... you're saying you're a god?"
"Kukuku. Not what you expected, but close enough."
With speech straight out of a wuxia novel, the homeless man introduced himself as a god. Normally, I'd call him crazy, but hearing a total stranger rattle off my name, age, and life story? I had no choice but to sit and listen.
"Still skeptical? Watch this... Hup!"
He dumped his soju on a nearby race-watching uncle. I nearly yelled What the fuck?—but it died in my throat. The uncle didn't even glance over, and in a blink, his clothes were bone-dry, unsoaked.
Am I the only one who can see this old man? No wonder no one's batting an eye at a drunk with booze in a no-drinking zone...
"Ha, haha... So that's why no one else sees you?"
"Something like that."
Holy shit. I'd always dismissed gods as scams—agnostic in my teens, full atheist in my twenties. But this homeless god proving it right in front of me? Speechless.
"Gods above... Then what does a god want with me?"
"Call me casually. It's nothing big... I want to offer you a new life."
"A new life?"
New life. The words hit like he'd read my deepest wish. Awe and suspicion mixed. How'd a god ignore me all these years, then pop up here with this?
"Kukuku. You know all about isekai, right? How about a fresh start in one?"
Oh my god. Isekai. The holy grail of isekai reincarnation?
"Can't give details now—conditions, restrictions, you know. But what I can say: it's a world where gods have vanished. A universe on the path to ruin."
"Live in a dying world? Sounds scary..."
Of course. Not cozy isekai life—apocalypse vibes.
"No need to worry. It's not total chaos; folks are living fine. Besides, your current life's all regrets and pain, isn't it? The doom's centuries away in a world that's been chugging along great. Tempting, no?"
"..."
A thriving world with distant doom? Yeah, that hooks me. My once-promising life derailed by a woman—daily suicidal urges, suffocating. Parents? Haven't seen them in years; probably written me off.
"...Fair point, it does tempt me. A few more questions?"
"Ask away."
Too good to be true? Smells like a scam. Can't get isekai'd to a hellhole with no take-backs.
"First... why me? What's the reason?"
"Kukuku. Fair enough; you're anxious. As I said... it's a godless universe."
"Was gonna ask... What does that mean?"
"Literal. The god tried stopping the incoming doom, failed, and vanished."
What...? God couldn't stop it?
"Universes are countless, each with maintainer gods—not religious ones, conceptual beings. Don't worry if it doesn't click."
Multiple universes, each with a god overseer. Got it.
"Godless ones lose stability, fade to nothing—no other god can take over. They just wait for the end. Sending you gives a slim hope of prolonging it..."
"Me as slim hope? How?"
"Can't say. You'll figure it out living there."
Hmm, uneasy...
"That universe has different physics... laws of the world. Simple terms: fantasy isekai—magic, monsters, the works. Sound good?"
Otaku bait dropped right as suspicion peaked. This guy's a god alright. Too perfect.
"Kukukuku... Sorry, restrictions limit what I can spill. But it'll be fun—way better than trauma hell here. I guarantee you can live your dream life."
"...Deal."
His image flipped: stinky bum to omnipotent god. Excitement bubbled; my shoulders shook.
"Decided, eh? Off you go—live well."
"Yes!? Wait!? Hold on! There's more...!"
"You'll learn as you live. Heh heh..."
Wait!? No word on reincarnation form? No perks menu!?
Before I could finish, darkness swallowed me. Endless falling. Did he pull a fast one? Wake up in trash isekai?
.................
(...Why so long? Loading screen?)
Panicking, eyes shut, cursing the god—felt like forever. I cracked my eyes. Pitch black void, sucking toward somewhere. En route? It dragged on; shock faded, stray thoughts crept in.
"Sigh... Least give prep time... And don't they let you pick perks?"
Grumbling isekai tropes, but too late. Steel myself, think hopeful.
"Wonder what the isekai's like... New looks? Got a bit of a gut now, hair's a mess—but pre-army, I was a looker, social king. Won't get uglier, right? Gotta ditch the crazy woman-hating mindset for the new life. Can't drag that poison along. Hope isekai girls aren't like Earth bitches. Run into Ha Eun-jin types, and suicide urges return. If different body, make my dick horse-cock huge—properly usable. Animals like horses there? Track horses were kinda cute. And..."
Blabbing hopes and nonsense, light hit. I opened my eyes.
Thus, I arrived in an isekai—vast grasslands stretching before me.