2 Highschool DxD (1)

Honestly, I did not expect to find myself waking up in another universe.

A fictional universe at that.

Then again, I did not expect much of anything in my life now days, really. Yup. Honest to God – with a capital G. Assuming that he exists. Or she. Not being sexist.

Although, I did hope it was a she. Just for laugh.

Like how would the entire religious world react if God was a she?

Ahem.

In any case, finding myself getting dumped in the middle of the city, within a fictional universe, where there are angels, devils, lots and lots of huge physic defying boobs, was secondary to having my brain fried and cramped to the brim with information.

Lots and lots of information.

Basic information, but still information.

Information that I would have not acquired otherwise.

Apparently, this was the initiation package that I had been promised weeks ago. All downloaded right into my freaking noggin, nearly sending me into a coma right in the middle of the street. At least, this was a lot easier and faster than having to sit downs and listen to someone explains it all to me in one hell of a session.

I could imagine how badly that session would go. My attention span on such matter was like zero. Not exactly zero, but close enough to be considered zero.

I might be rambling.

Long story short. There was a reason to why the Club was called Men of Culture.

Too bad, that was for me to know, and for you to find out.

That said, I did wonder whether everything was a coincidence or not. Was it really a coincidence that I had found my way into what supposed to be a cosmic club? Was it really a coincidence that my ideal was the same ideal that all members of the club shared?

Totally not a coincidence, but meh. Thinking about these stuffs made my brain hurts. More than it was already is. Like way more. Life were so simple years ago.

Back in Highschool. Not making a pun.

Study hard, find a good job, date a good girl, marry her and have a bunch of chubby kids.

Still stuck on the second part of the grand plan of life.

Shitty life.

…

My memory was a mess at the moment, and I tried to recall the events that had happened or likely to say would going to happen in this universe.

I did know for a fact that this version of Highschool DxD was not the vanilla version.

Nope. Nada. It was definitely not.

I would not have to deal with all those stupid supernatural craps in this crazy universe, but I also would have to deal with the main character of this devious version of Highschool DxD.

And that main character was not Issei Hyoudou. Was that a surprise?

The main character was actually… there!

"Ugh… fuck… my head…"

The main character in question probably just felt like he had slammed his head against the closest rock and proceed to use that rock as a pillow. He then made a somewhat silence promise to himself, to not binge-played a video game for hours on end.

Now, how did I know he was the main character?

Probably because I could see the story being written right before my eyes.

Or maybe it was Nightingale Armor that he was wearing.

What was a Nightingale Armor? Stop asking question and go play Skyrim already!

Anyway, the main character was transmigrated into Highschool DxD, just shortly after I had crossed in from the real world. I was not transmigrated, apparently.

I could now cross from reality into fiction.

The ability of a World Walker was way too overpowered in my opinion. Maybe I should consider myself of finding a desolate reality to set up an interdimensional empire?

I could instantly recall three separate stories that deal with the exact same premise with a slice of self-insert. The said self-inserts did succeed somewhat before the story devolved into some kind of sluggish mess.

Eh.

While that idea sounded super tempting, I rather not.

For one reason, really. I was fucking lazy. Honestly, running an interdimensional empire seemed like a lot of works, with all the politics and backstabbing going on and on. Not to mention I have to keep my billions or trillions subject happy.

Honestly, what the fuck!?

Nah. It was better for me to use this new gift to live a carefree life. Well, World Walker ability was just one of the three gifts.

The second was the class I was granted.

Editor.

Wasn't that my current shitty job?

Now it was my class.

Great. Just fucking great.

While I was thinking to myself, the MC was being harassed by a Japanese policeman, who proceed to ask whether he was cosplaying.

Of course, the MC did not understand jack shit, considering that he was not Japanese.

Ah. The good old language barrier.

I swear a lot of stories just forget to incorporate that when their characters travelled across multitude of planets or universes.

Speaking of which, I kind of forgot to mention it, so let us move on.

The MC eventually get something across to the policeman. Something along the line of "I really have no fucking clue what the fuck you are saying."

Actually, it was a lot shorter than that, but my version sounded better. It would get a much better sort of reaction from the policeman too, not like now where he was frowning and demanding paper from the MC.

I mean to say identification document.

Of course, the MC responded in crappy Japanese and bolted.

The policeman immediately followed to give chase.

I, on the other hand, decided not to follow. Thanked to the bullshit ability of my Editor class, I kind of knew exactly how the whole story would go, and how it would eventually end.

Of course, it was not after a lot of pointless chapters on pointless things.

While I admitted that I did enjoy reading about villainous protagonist in a familiar setting. For example, having a psychotic hardcore Skyrim player dropped into the universe filled with boobs and more boobs and much more boobs, my interest only held up for so long.

Since I already knew how the story would end, I decided to return to reality. Um. The real world. This place was fictional, and I rather not deal with all the craziness and stupid logics that follow.

The problem was… how do I return?

"Nice try there, buddy."

A voice called out when I tried to focus my mind, pinpointing back to the home reality, back to my old desk with tons and tons of manuscript to work with.

"We were promised trolling, porn, and a slice of theft. Get to it, or you are going to stuck in this world forever. Maybe that is not a bad thing, considering what you want to return to."

Yeah. That was a stupid idea. So, the goal for now was trolling, porn and theft. One of either. Or maybe all of them at the same time.

Sounded like a lot of work. Fuck!