Transported to Another World
Ian River blinked blankly. The world he knew had vanished, replaced by an unfamiliar landscape of another realm.
…What just happened?
The thought was cliché, yet inevitable. He must be dreaming while standing.
But the moment he stumbled backward in the alley and fell, the notion scattered into the air. Pain from the sharp edge of a stone against his tailbone was far too vivid.
Ow! That hurts…
Blinking away the tears that welled up, he scrambled to his feet, hands already rubbing furiously at his sore backside.
Once he gathered his wits, he peered around the corner of the alley. Carriages he had never seen before raced lightly across wide, neatly laid stone tiles. On the sidewalks, people in fantasy-style clothing hurried past—exactly like characters from games or anime. Their hair and eyes shone in every color imaginable, and their skin tones varied widely.
Some carried leather packs, others gripped what looked like magic wands. Still others wore swords of various sizes at their waists. Children dashed by, clutching sky-blue creatures that might have been cats or foxes, laughing as they passed right in front of him.
This… isn’t really a dream?
Ian backed deeper into the alley. Leaning against the wall as if to escape reality, he stared blankly into space.
He had been walking out the school gate, and then—his consciousness had simply vanished for an instant. When he opened his eyes in shock, he was here.
…So things like this can actually happen.
After several deep breaths, his racing heart finally calmed.
He had grown up in an orphanage and was about to leave even that temporary home. The only relative he had was an uncle with cold, murky eyes. The man ran a sizable ironworks factory in the provinces and had been desperate to claim Ian as cheap labor the moment he left the orphanage. He claimed he would treat Ian well, but no one believed him. Those smoke-stained eyes had already told the truth: he saw Ian as nothing more than a slave.
Ian had planned to refuse the offer somehow, yet a vague dread had always lingered—that he would eventually be dragged away. His uncle was more persistent and vicious than he appeared.
But… that’s all over now. I’ve been dropped into some strange place.
The stress of his uncle’s gaze must have weighed on him more than he realized. The thought that he would never see the man again made this unknown world feel oddly comforting.
Perhaps because he had truly accepted this world, knowledge and truths he had never learned flooded into his mind like a tide. He was an “invited” existence in this realm. He could not fathom the selection criteria, but the conviction was intense before fading. He also learned that everyone here was born with two or three skills and could open a skill window like in a game.
Then… what about me?
The short question triggered the appearance of his own skills in his mind. Eyes widening in surprise, he unconsciously whispered,
“Skill window.”
A faint light flashed before his eyes, and a blue skill window materialized.
Detection (Grade 5 / Intermediate): Activates when you know the target’s name, appearance, and traits. Range: 500 meters. Duration: 30 minutes.
Positive Aurora (Grade 5 / Intermediate): Initiates positive emotions in the target for 1 hour during conversation.
Perfect Bubble (Grade 2 / Highest): Summons bubbles that cleanse even a century of grime. Mana Total: 150. Stamina Total: 250.
Ian stared at the skill window with his mouth slightly open. He had not yet fully grasped reality, but one thing was certain: even though he had fallen into a fantasy world, he would never become a dazzling protagonist like a mage or swordsman.
What am I supposed to do with these skills? Become a cleaner? Work at an errand center that finds lost items or people? Or… a counselor?
Did professional counselors even exist in this world? Frustrated, he lowered his head and ran a hand through his hair when something shiny caught his eye. It was a silver identification tag hanging around his neck like a dog tag, engraved with foreign letters.
[Ian River / Commoner. Place of Origin – Beloa, Sepiana Kingdom]
Whoa, my last name changed to River.
Because “Kang” meant river? Whoever named him here had a painfully literal sense of humor. He grumbled inwardly, then jolted as another realization struck.
Oh— I can read and write the language here now!
The moment he pushed off the wall and placed a hand on his waist, another change registered.
Whoa?! My clothes aren’t a school uniform anymore.
He now wore a practical medieval commoner’s outfit: a tunic that reached his thighs, sturdy leather pants, and a light cloth coat. Far more functional and durable than the historical clothing he remembered. He examined the leather boots on his ankles and the empty leather satchel slung at his side instead of a backpack, then straightened up.
At least he had the bare minimum to avoid starving. All that remained was finding work that paid daily wages.
Alright. Somewhere out there needs a cleaner or odd-job worker.
After a deep breath, he finally stepped out of the dark alley. The instant his foot touched the main road, he spotted the perfect place to work—absurdly convenient.
[Errand Boy Guild – Gelian Branch]
The guild building stood directly across the street, its weathered sign almost as if it had been waiting for him. Ian swallowed hard and crossed the road, stepping inside.
The interior was surprisingly spacious and quiet. A wooden reception desk sat at the far end, while a large bulletin board covered the left wall, plastered with request papers. A few tables and chairs by the window sat bathed in morning sunlight.
Ian’s gaze naturally drifted toward the bulletin board. Several people who looked like errand boys were intently scanning the papers.
Curious, he was about to approach when a receptionist with a businesslike expression called out to him.
“Are you here to post a request?”
“Ah… no.”
He hurried over to the desk. The receptionist’s deep blue eyes studied his tense face as though appraising him.
Ian felt his mouth go dry and spoke as calmly as possible.
“I’m not here for a request… I came because I want to work as an errand boy.”
The receptionist nodded indifferently.
“I see. To become a full member, you must first complete five low-rank requests. However, the lowest-rank requests without advance payment count as one low-rank request after three completions.”
Of course there’s an advance payment…
With not a single coin to his name, he would have to start with the lowest-rank requests.
“Would you like to register temporarily first? We’ll need your identification tag.”
“Oh, yes. Here.”
Ian removed the tag from his neck and handed it over. The receptionist accepted it but remained still, staring at him for a long moment. When Ian finally met her gaze in confusion, she spoke in a low voice.
“…You shouldn’t show your identification tag so carelessly. If you lose it in an unfamiliar place with no connections, the situation will become very troublesome.”
“Huh… why?”
“Because no one will be able to prove your identity or origin.”
Ian’s eyes trembled at the unexpected advice.
Right. If I lose this, I’ll become a stranger with no way to prove myself in this world.
He bowed his head at once and offered sincere thanks.
“Thank you for the warning. I hadn’t thought that far.”
“No, it’s fine. You’re quite fortunate, actually. To travel all the way from the capital to this southernmost city without having your tag stolen.”
“Ah, y-yes…… Haha. I guess I really was lucky.”
Ian scratched the back of his head and laughed awkwardly. The receptionist nodded with her usual expressionless face, opened a thick ledger, and recorded his information. She then returned the tag along with a worn wooden plaque indicating his temporary errand boy status.
“Now go pick a request from the bulletin board.”
“Yes, thank you.”
He briefly considered asking her name, but decided against it. If he continued working here, a natural opportunity to exchange names would surely arise.
Of course, that was only Ian’s optimistic thought. For now, the papers densely covering the bulletin board—and the daily wage they represented—mattered far more.