"You're Carl, right?"
In front of an 18-year-old teenager, a woman in her late twenties observes a document in her hands.
She glances at him and returns her gaze to the files, after showing a certain level of disappointment during the reading.
'This one surely won't last a few months, but you gotta break some eggs to make an omelet, right?'
A line of thought that sealed the young man's fate toward a direction unknown to both people in this ordinary-looking office.
"Y...yes, I'm Carl Morales."
Carl Morales.
One of the survivors from world number ####.
His world was bought by the M.E.D.I.A company, which wanted to recruit more agents.
To achieve their goal, they decided to sort capable individuals from the trash through a series of trials, disguised as global catastrophes.
World number ##### — aka Earth — lost almost its entire dominant race, except for a few small groups of survivors.
These lucky chosen ones were brought to various departments within the company, to be sorted again and placed in different positions.
However... Carl is the kind of person they would have preferred to see die during the incidents on Earth.
"Damn, you're really an anomaly..."
The woman removed her glasses to massage her temples a bit, after finishing reading Carl's "accomplishments."
Is he exceptional? Unfortunately, no.
Carl accomplished nothing remarkable during the end of his world and his ordinary human life.
As a shut-in, who takes online courses and does remote work.
The brown-haired man was able to avoid contracting a deadly virus, while the rest of the population perished horribly.
Besides this case, he also had a small bunker thanks to his paranoid father who died in 2020.
Of course, the latter had a good portion of expired supplies, but it was enough for Carl during this apocalyptic era.
He never went out for months and spent his time rereading dubious novels and shōnen manga preserved by his father inside.
Thus, Carl Morales became an accomplished man of culture now.
"Is that a compliment?"
"No..."
The cold and emotionless voice of the woman calmed Carl's teenage hormones, who had the illusion of hope facing this inhuman beauty.
After this quick and dry rejection, Carl avoided starting the conversation again.
A behavior well received by the unknown woman.
"Well, I know where you're gonna start your service within the company," she said before picking up a form that she handed to Carl.
[Field Agent Department Admission Form]
"You're gonna fill this out and give it back to me. But be careful: this doesn't make you a real field agent yet. You'll simply be a temporary agent."
Translation: Carl will have to prove his worth to be fully accepted in this department.
After receiving the paper, Carl read it quickly.
His pale and nervous face slowly showed joy.
An extremely bizarre expression for the woman, because the field agent department displays a very high mortality rate.
Information not hidden by the company due to multiversal policies related to workers' rights.
'He's not only the least talented of the bunch... but on top of that, he's stupid.'
Contrary to her inner thoughts, the woman showed nothing on her face.
She had proposed this branch of the agent department to Carl because she didn't want him among the interior agents.
Why?
Carl wasn't intelligent enough, according to her criteria, to provide any valuable assistance within their department.
So, she preferred to get rid of him.
That's also why she assigned him the field agent position.
'Thanks dad, you were really the best father possible...'
Unknown to the agent facing Carl, there exists a genre of novel popular on Earth among reading fans: the Isekai genre.
Surprisingly, a field agent's job strangely resembles such a scenario.
To better grasp the stakes here, one must first understand the purpose of the M.E.D.I.A company.
This organization has the task of providing emotions to extremely powerful entities, who have lost a large part of their "humanity."
And this includes emotions.
Unable to feel them naturally, these entities have gotten into the habit of buying them.
This is also the real reason for the creation of certain universes.
The company, which now owns Earth and its surviving inhabitants, operates in this industry of buying and reselling emotions.
But now, a question arises: how do they harvest these emotions to sell them?
The answer lies in the agent department.
The latter sends agents to various worlds, under the identity of people who wished for death.
During their new existence, agents will accumulate all sorts of sensations and emotions.
These elements are then collected by the company, after the death of their new identity.
Everything seems wonderful, right?
Unfortunately, there's a problem.
If the collected emotions haven't crossed an acceptable threshold, then the new identity will perish permanently, taking the original agent with it.
That's why field agents have no right to error, and why their number is so low compared to interior agents.
The latter buy emotions through various means, like contracts with inferior intelligent races under the identity of gods or demons.
There's no risk of death, only sanctions in case of performance below the required threshold.
"Um... excuse me, I filled out my personal information, but I don't understand some data concerning my mission and my new identity."
At Carl's words, the woman simply clicked her tongue in annoyance.
"You just have to follow the instructions, so where's the problem?"
"I don't know any other world than Earth... and what's this 'Legacy'?"
It took Carl about ten minutes to assimilate the explanations given to him.
The Legacy is the power that agents possess.
They can customize it within a certain limit, depending on their history and accomplishments.
According to the woman in charge of Carl's case, this power adapts to the laws of the world where the mission takes place.
Besides the Legacy, an agent's mission world is an element chosen by the latter.
It can be a fictional universe, or a world appearing in the company's catalog.
As for the new identity? It's random...
The only thing that remains constant are certain common traits between the agent and their host.
"I see, you chose a fictional universe named High School DxD and your legacy... disappointing."
The woman glanced at Carl as if he were shit.
But he didn't flinch.
'I led an ordinary life, so what type of power did she want, exactly?'
A Legacy is supposed to reflect the life and theme close to the agent's story, so Carl's options were very limited.
After several minutes of reflection, he finally opted for a pair of supernatural glasses.
He described his power as being capable of giving access to a player's "menus," allowing strength increase via level-up and obtaining a class as well as a subclass.
Unfortunately, he had to define in advance his class as Enchanter and his subclass as Scribe.
He didn't want the too great versatility of his Legacy to prevent its proper functioning.
Carl also allowed himself to add certain capabilities of the unique skill Great Sage within his power.
"I...is my Legacy compatible with the world and my story?"
"Yes. And please, die during this mission."
"What?!"
A magic circle appeared under Carl's feet, before he had time to understand the unknown woman's intentions.
...
In a room filled with tissues soiled by... unknown and suspicious fluids.
A man in his late twenties suddenly sat up on his bed, holding his head in his hands for about ten minutes.
Fortunately, the painful expression on his face quickly faded.
"...I...I really arrived in DxD..."