I have become a hidden dungeon boss in another world with anime powers

The lingering scent of popcorn and the faint glow of his computer monitor flickered behind Roland Jacob's eyelids. A primal scream, laced with terror, ripped through his dreamscape, jolting him awake. But instead of the familiar weight of his comforter, Roland felt rough earth beneath his fingers. Disoriented, he sat up, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

Sunlight, filtered through a hazy sky choked with smoke, pierced his vision. Gone was the comforting blue of his bedroom walls, replaced by a panorama of utter chaos. Men, clad in gleaming steel armor, clashed with monstrous creatures that looked like they'd crawled out of a particularly deranged anime. The air thrummed with the clang of metal, the guttural roars of the beasts, and the desperate cries of the soldiers.

Panic flooded Roland's gut. This wasn't his first rodeo. The lingering taste of instant ramen and the echo of a world teetering on the brink of destruction in his mind were telltale signs. He'd been sucked into another world, ripped from the comfort of his room after a night of anime indulgence. 

"Not again," he muttered, the words barely audible over the din of battle. He wasn't sure what bizarre anime trope this was, but one thing was certain - Roland Jacob, the isekai veteran, was back in the game. 

Roland surveyed the battlefield with the air of a seasoned critic. "Special effects budget must be tight," he muttered, eyeing the unconvincing CGI fire erupting in the distance. A shrug, a resigned sigh. "Guess I'm stuck here until the plot decides I get to go home. Ramen cravings are gonna be brutal."

He glanced down at the crude iron sword suddenly clutched in his hand. "Seriously? Not even a cool glowing katana? This is like the bargain bin of isekai tropes." With a sigh, he turned towards a particularly spiky, troll-like creature lumbering his way. Roland raised his sword, aiming for the center of its chest with all the enthusiasm of a man watering a dying fern. 

The troll stopped mid-roar, its beady eyes swiveling to meet Roland's. It blinked once, twice, then tilted its head as if pondering a particularly perplexing philosophical question. "Dude," a gruff voice rumbled from the creature, "what the heck are you even doing?"

Roland froze. The troll spoke. In perfect English, no less. He blinked back, momentarily questioning his own sanity. "Uh," he began eloquently, "defeating... you?" 

The troll's face (if a collection of warts and tusks could be construed as a face) contorted in something resembling amusement. "With that toothpick? Seriously, new guy training exercise? You could at least go for the knees." 

Before Roland could stammer a reply, a wave of nausea washed over him. The troll swung a meaty fist, connecting with Roland's jaw with a satisfying *thunk*. The world tilted, then faded to black. As Roland drifted off to unconsciousness, he couldn't help but think, "This isekai is definitely low budget." 

Roland stirred, the world a blurry mess of throbbing pain. A dull ache pulsed through his jaw, a souvenir from the troll's well-placed punch. He groaned, trying to sit up, only to find himself being trampled underfoot. A cacophony of shouts and roars washed over him as both human and monstrous combatants unwittingly used him as a living speed bump.

"Hey! Watch it!" he yelled, his voice hoarse. "There's a perfectly good human being here being turned into a pancake!"

"Ugh," he mumbled, "This isekai after-party is way too crowded."

He stumbled to his feet, blinking away the stars dancing in his vision. A human warrior, resplendent in gleaming plate armor, stood before him, a grimace twisting their features. Roland opened his mouth to plead for help, but the warrior beat him to the punch.

"Die, foul beast!" the warrior roared, bringing their sword down in a mighty arc.

Roland yelped, throwing himself backwards just in time for the blade to whistle harmlessly over his head. He scrambled back, bewildered. "Whoa there, hold on a sec! I'm on your side, buddy!"

The warrior didn't seem convinced. With a swift kick that would make a Spartan blush, they launched Roland several meters through the air. He landed with a thud in a pile of smoldering rubble, the world momentarily spinning.

Winded, Roland pushed himself up, a cough wracking his body. "Seriously, what's your deal?" he wheezed, brushing dirt off his clothes.

Then, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a shard of broken metal. His blood ran cold. Staring back at him wasn't his usual mop of brown hair and freckled face. Instead, he sported a thick mane of matted green fur, fangs that would make a vampire jealous, and horns that wouldn't look out of place on a particularly grumpy goat.

"Oh gods," Roland croaked, his voice echoing in his unfamiliar monstrous head. "I'm the monster."

He let out a scream that would curdle milk, a sound that belonged far more to the creatures he was supposed to be fighting than any human. This isekai wasn't just low budget, it was a complete disaster.

A strangled gurgle escaped Roland's throat. He stared at his monstrous reflection, contemplating the existential crisis that came with a complimentary horns-and-fangs package. Suddenly, a blinding light engulfed him, drowning out the screams and clash of steel around him. When the light faded, a translucent screen flickered into existence, hovering in front of him like a particularly intrusive pop-up ad.

On the screen, several cards swirled like a digital deck of tarot. A booming voice, vaguely reminiscent of a cheesy game show host, echoed in his head. "Welcome, isekai newcomer! Time for the ultimate test of your otaku prowess: The First Anime Ability Gacha!"

Roland blinked, momentarily forgetting his monstrous predicament. "Gacha? Like those phone games I play for way too long?"

"Exactly! Except with way less waiting and far more existential dread!" the voice boomed.

"Uh-huh," Roland mumbled, eyeing the swirling cards with trepidation. He poked a hesitant finger at the screen. A card zoomed in, revealing a picture of a plain wooden cane. Disappointment washed over him. "Seriously? A walking stick? Where's the giant laser sword? The black hole punch?"