"Excuse me, sir. May I buy a can of fruit?"
An elderly man stood at the counter, smiling warmly as he placed a few bronze coins on the table.
"Yep, that'll be two bronze coins," I said, handing him one of the fruit cans stacked behind me — the ones that, incidentally, came straight from my world.
Earth.
You see, after buying a secondhand copy of some famous novel, I somehow ended up inside it about a week ago. Who knew my first time ever reading a novel would end with me entering one?
And before you ask — yeah, I know what you're thinking. I got isekai'd, right? Don't worry, no trucks were involved.
The problem? I have absolutely no clue what the story's about beyond the synopsis I glanced at in the store.
The only things I've got going for me are:
I can summon anything from Earth — as long as it's not alive.
This weird system that keeps showing me people's "roles."
A faint pop-up appeared above the old man's head as he thanked me.
[Role: NPC]
Everyone I've met so far had one of those floating titles. Still, it's been a week, and I haven't seen a single person with a major role yet.
During my first week here, I somehow ended up stranded in a forest village.
A group of mercenaries found me wandering around, looking lost and dressed like a weirdo — which, to be fair, wasn't entirely wrong.
I ditched my "decorated" clothes for a plain gray sweater and a pair of gartered jogging pants — not exactly heroic attire, but at least it blended in better. That's when a strange prompt suddenly appeared above my head.
Thankfully, they didn't think I was insane. Apparently, everyone here has their own kind of "system," so they just assumed I was too drunk to recognize mine.
I learned a lot from them that week:
One: I'm in a fantasy world. Inside a novel.
Two: The economy here runs surprisingly similar to Earth's.
Three: Currency comes in bronze, silver, gold, and something called Damac — which I assume is the premium kind.
Four: Magic exists. Yeah. Magic. I thought the novel was a political romance based on the cover, but apparently, I was wrong.
Five: After traveling with the mercenaries for a while, they left me at an inn to "find my bearings." Translation: I was slowing them down.
Six: The way this world operates is eerily similar to Earth — thanks, I guess, to an author who didn't bother reinventing basic logic.
Seven: I can summon any non-living item from Earth. No limit on quantity.
Eight: My so-called "Author's Eye" lets me see people's narrative roles — like whether they're extras, side characters, or villains — but nothing more.
Nine: I have no idea where I am, or what I'm supposed to do, aside from trying to find a way home.
As for gadgets? Yeah, I tried that. Doesn't work. Anything that needs a network or signal is basically useless here — unless I somehow build a working system myself. Which, considering the government here would probably dissect me for it, is a solid nope.
I spent my first week just getting used to this world. Thankfully, language wasn't a problem.
Surprisingly, everyone speaks English here — maybe because the novel itself was written in English, dialogue and all. Lucky for me, English is my second language, and I'm fluent enough that it doesn't bother me.
After settling down, I bought this small shop — an abandoned structure that used to belong to an old woman. She sold it to me for three hundred gold coins. Thankfully, Earth had gold coins too, so… problem solved.
She was skeptical at first, of course. I mean, who wouldn't be? A random guy showing up with a bag of unmarked gold coins isn't exactly normal. But once she confirmed they were real, she didn't ask too many questions. As long as I avoided any coins with weird designs, I was safe.
I've since turned the place into a cozy little shop that fits the local aesthetic — lots of wood, ceramic, and a few marble touches here and there. It blends in nicely.
These days, I sell small items from my world — harmless stuff that doesn't exist here. I'm careful about what I put on display, though; the last thing I need is the local authorities wondering where I got "modern miracles."
Most of the items I bring over have Earth labels, so… I may or may not have peeled those off.
Sorry, dear companies. Consider it free interdimensional advertising.
On the bright side, my shop's been doing pretty well.
Maybe it's because my products are cheaper and a lot more convenient than what the locals usually sell. Either way, business is steady, and money isn't really a problem — well, except for one thing.
I still haven't seen a single Damac coin. From what I've heard, it's something only the royal families or high nobles use. Must be nice having your own exclusive currency.
Most of my customers come from the middle class — merchants, adventurers, and the occasional curious noble's servant. Some even place bulk orders, which means I have to transfer a ton of stock from Earth after closing time.
The shop itself has three compartments.
The first is the storefront — the part everyone sees. Cozy, tidy, and stocked with things that look just fantasy enough to pass off as local goods.
The second is the storage area — a backup room in case someone ever decides to "inspect" the shop. It makes the place look legitimate.
And the third is my personal room. I might've gone overboard with that one — luxury furniture, soft lighting, and a bed so comfortable it probably breaks immersion for this world.
Maybe I should sell a couch one of these days. Two silvers sounds fair, right?
As I was busy talking to you guys, the bell above the door chimed.
A woman — probably in her thirties — stepped inside. She looked around for a moment before walking up to the counter.
"Hello there," she said, smiling a little awkwardly. "Um… are you selling something that, you know… helps me and my husband have more fun?"
I blinked.
…Wait. Is she talking about Viagra?
"Ah—are you referring to something that boosts your husband's… vigor?" I asked carefully.
Her cheeks turned pink, and she gave a tiny nod.
"Well," I said, forcing a smile. "I do have something like that. It's quite strong, though—especially for first-timers."
"Do you think it would really work?" she asked, her tone half hopeful, half embarrassed.
"Yep," I said. "It works. A lot."
"You see, my husband and I have been buying those vigor boosters from the other shops," she explained, lowering her voice. "But they don't seem to do anything. He, uh… only lasts about three minutes."
That's… unfortunate.
Also, ma'am, why are you telling me this?
"I mean," I said, clearing my throat, "I do offer returns if you think it doesn't work."
"Really?"
"Yep."
I turned, opened the cabinet behind me, and pulled out a small blue bottle.
"Here you go," I said. "It's called Viagra. Just make sure your husband takes only a small amount before, uh, the session. Taking too much might lead to… consequences you wouldn't want to deal with."
"Sure," she said, nodding. "How much is it?"
"Three silver coins."
"That's so cheap! The others were selling similar tonics for one or two gold coins."
That's quite a markup…
"Well, lucky you," I said, handing her the bottle with a grin. "Here you go!"
She thanked me, paid, and left with the kind of smile people get when they think they've just discovered a miracle.
Hopefully her husband survives.
Who knew that outside a reader's perspective, a "generic" political romance novel could have things like this happening in the background?
Not so generic now, huh?
Still, why was that woman marked as an extra?
Does that mean someone with a major role is nearby?
Well… I'll think about that later. For now, I need to resupply some items.
I walked through the back door of the shop and into the storeroom — or rather, my personal space for transferring goods from Earth.
They call it "space magic" here.
Technically, I'm not supposed to sell items imbued with magic, so my customers usually come for simple, everyday stuff. Nothing flashy. Nothing that could raise questions.
"Let's see…" I murmured, shaping a circle with my fingers before snapping them together. A glowing ring appeared in midair — blank and rippling like liquid light.
My portal to Earth.
I glanced at the invisible "menu" floating beside it and started listing what I needed.
200 cans of fruit50 straw hats200 pencils200 packs of paper100 knives100 cans of water
"That should be enough for a while," I said, watching the items spill gently into neat stacks.
Maybe I should put up a sign saying I can take furniture requests.
The problem is… my storefront's way too small for that. No one wants to buy a couch they can't see.
After neatly stacking everything into place, I went outside to hang a new sign.
"Furniture requests and custom weapon orders now available."
Maybe that would attract a few more customers.
As I was adjusting the signpost, I heard footsteps behind me. Firm, deliberate ones.
"May I take your order?" I asked automatically, turning around.
A man stood there, dressed in refined noble attire — embroidered coat, silver buttons, posture straight as a sword.
I froze.
Nobles never come to this part of the city, especially not at night.
"Uh… how may I help you?" I asked, scratching the back of my head.
"Good evening, sir," the man said, his tone polite but heavy with authority. "The Empire requests your presence at the Royal House of Malkiha."
He extended his hand — not to shake, but almost as if to guide. Still, I took it out of reflex and gave a quick handshake.
"Is that so?" I asked, forcing a casual smile.
"Yes. A carriage will be waiting to escort you."
This was… sudden.
"Then I should close my shop first," I said, trying to keep my tone even.
He nodded once. "Of course. We will wait."
As he stepped aside, I locked the door behind me, the sign swaying slightly in the cool night air.
My heart beat just a little faster.
The Royal House of Malkiha, huh?
I have a bad feeling about this.
"What even is the Royal House of Malkiha?" I muttered under my breath.
Damn it, I don't know a thing about this place, and now I'm about to get dragged into something big.
Still… maybe this is fine. If I want to understand how the story actually unfolds, this might be my chance.
I locked the door to my private room, layering it with every lock I had — mechanical, magical, and even one of my personal high-tech ones that needed a card scan.
The storefront and storage area should be safe enough. Unless someone decides to snoop into my personal space… which would be a very bad idea.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled down the metal shutter over the shopfront, the sound of metal sliding into place echoing through the quiet street.
"Alright," I exhaled, brushing off my hands. "Let's see what kind of mess this is."
Following the noble's directions, I stepped toward the waiting carriage — polished black, with golden trim glinting faintly under the street lamps.
The door opened with a soft creak.
I hesitated for a moment, then climbed in.
Whatever happens next… I just hope it doesn't involve execution, taxes, or forced conscription.