This was the moment the world would see greatness, the unveiling of an invention so revolutionary it would change the world forever. Perhaps, and only perhaps, it would go on for centuries.
Ronkai had built the ultimate creation of his life, spending his entire early adulthood "building" while planning took a backseat. Now it was finally here: a chemical that could cure cancer and every disease on the planet, a breakthrough that would go down in history.
He was in his lab, a typical white room filled with white light, white tables, and white chairs. There were white humans, white food, and white clothes.
Ronkai sat down at his desk with small, careful movements. All his papers were organized, and in the center sat a syringe containing the cure for cancers and all diseases. The liquid was red, a dark crimson, and when Ronkai grabbed it, the syringe felt hot. It wasn't merely warm. It was the sort of searing heat you found on a turned-on stove. It didn't matter though.
Like any inventor should, he tested his inventions on himself. Ronkai flicked the syringe, pulled his sleeve up with his palm facing him, and prepared to inject. He was visibly nervous; you could see it on his face, dripping with sweat, his slow gulps, and his shaky hands. But he was determined. He was not just determined, but crazy. He injected the syringe. A sharp but manageable pain stung his forearm. He pushed all the liquid in, feeling an extreme heat that moved like a tsunami of lava flowing through his bloodstream.
The humans watched outside his office window, gathered to witness greatness. Some cheered, some were skeptical, some were fighting, some were inventing time travel, and some didn't even care.
Ronkai, with his historic hands, turned extremely red. At first, it felt like sunburn, but slowly it began to feel like his insides and skin were charring, like an ant being burned to a crisp. Ronkai's muscles tightened. He slammed his hands onto the desk, rising from his seat. The humans watching paused. The tension was so high it felt like you were actually high. People gasped, mesmerized. Ronkai roared in pain with every surge of his throat muscles.
"OH GOD, IT HURTS!" He slammed his body into the wall again and again with violent force.
"That looks painful," one of the humans remarked, stating the obvious. We would never hear from this human again.
Ronkai began destroying everything. Tables, chairs, and papers flew across the room. The pristine office was now a disaster, a mess similar to that of an unemployed person. Watching the chaos, the janitor felt a deep hatred for his job; he dropped his hat, stomped on it, and quit right there.
"SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE!" Ronkai yelled, but the window was soundproof, built for privacy. He started screaming "Please," and "By the gods, end my suffering," rambling something about seeing the other side.
After about one hour and thirty seconds of pure agony, the crowd was fully gone because the excitement had died down. Ronkai was nothing but a bunch of bones. His skin, muscles, and flesh had melted away, leaving only the skeleton. Fortunately, no cancer or diseases.
After this incident, reporters declared Ronkai dead, marking the end of the most famous inventor in modern society. Apparently, his serum had spawned a new type of cancer that targeted the whole body, melting it down. But it wasn't over just yet. His invention failed, and it brought a new disease into the world, but this wasn't the end of his story. This was just the beginning.
After his death, Ronkai saw only darkness. Just darkness. The kind you see when you close your eyes or turn off the lights. He reflected on how he wasted his life inventing a cure for cancer and all diseases just to die by his own creation. He was only famous for inventing things that accidentally killed humans.
Maybe I should have planned before building, he thought, regret written on his face. But he dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. He never believed in planning first, especially for helping people.
He could smell warm coffee in the darkness. He felt like he was sitting in a warm, soft chair. Suddenly, a light appeared in the center around him, while the rest remained a void. A lightbulb hung from the ceiling. In the center of the room sat a wooden table with a cup of coffee, and the floor was a void, yet solid to the touch. In front of Ronkai sat an old man with white hair and a long white beard that stretched from the floor to the table. The old man had his eyes closed, wore a long white dress, and looked Japanese, which meant his eyes weren't actually closed. (Every wise old anime man looks like his eyes are closed.)
He looked at Ronkai with eyes that seemed to have seen everything, been everywhere, and known all. With a loud and firm tone, he spoke in a deep voice that thundered like the skies themselves.
"An American. How repulsive. You were never meant to end up here." The voice was poisonous to the ear.
With a mix of confusion, Ronkai squinted his eyes. He was starting to realize something, but he wasn't sure. It was an odd statement he already knew the man was a god. But the statement felt strange, as if he despised outsiders that weren't Japanese.
"I died, so I didn't exactly choose to come here," Ronkai said.
"SILENCE!" The shout shook the room as if the void itself reacted to his voice.
"Why aren't you with the American God?" the old man demanded. His aura pressed down, cutting the air and making Ronkai choke on it. The racist energy was so immense that not even multiverse destroyers could compete with his prejudice.
"How should I know? I only just arrived," Ronkai said.
"SILENCE!" The yell echoed across several dimensions, shattering them instantly. Ronkai, of course, was unaware.
Ronkai stood quiet, mouth zipped tight. Seeing this, the god ground his teeth together hard.
"YOU DARE REMAIN SILENT, MORTAL!"
The god paused, catching his temper. He took a deep breath, his muscles relaxing. With a heavy sigh that stirred the wind, he finally spoke.
"I only send Japanese people to the other world. But you? You make me so sick I want to puke."
"Umm... well, can't you just send me to where I belong? I'm having a bad day, I ain't gonna hold you," Ronkai replied.
"I can't do such a thing!"
"Why not?"
"I should not have to answer to gun lovers."
"Well, I can't change who I am. I guess I'll just suffer."
The god took a good look at Ronkai. His face twisted in thought before he leaned back. With a curious look, he spoke.
"Anyways, what is with the chill talk? I saw you screaming and yelling in agony, but now you are calm?"
Ronkai stared at him like the question was so stupid it was offensive.
"I mean, yeah, I was in pain. Holy crap, like, why wouldn't I scream? But right now I'm dead, so it doesn't really matter."
"I see. I do not care."
"What—"
The god dismissed him with a wave of his hand. It was odd, really. A god should help the dead, but this one showed no such kindness. In any case, the god could not stop the process; his godly power was bound to send this American to the other world, a land of Japanese souls where fantasy and magic existed.
"You are going to be sent to another world called 'Eldoria.'"
"Fucking generic ass name."
"AY! DON'T INSULT MY CREATION! YOU DAMN MORTAL, KNOW YOUR PLACE"
"Alright, alright, my bad. I didn't mean it."
"Good. Now, the world I'm sending you to is under attack by an evil Demon Lord. His power surpasses most gods. No human has ever defeated him. He could end the world in seconds, but he chooses to toy with his subjects instead. He has conquered half the world so far, and you, a hero—" The old man paused, clutching his stomach as if someone were twisting his insides.
"What? You good?"
"H-h-hero— DAMN it..."
Ronkai threw his head back in frustration. It was getting old, and it hadn't even been an hour.
"OK, I GET IT! Enough with the racism."
"...The people are in peril... you must go and defeat him before he takes the rest of the world..." His voice carried a deep sadness, so profound you could almost hear the sound of rain falling. It was the voice of a broken heart.
"Um... I guess you really do hate me, huh?"
"It doesn't matter. Let's just hope you aren't the one who defeats the Demon Lord. I wouldn't want a statue of you in the world I created. Do you understand? You are worth nothing to me."
Ronkai nodded, unbothered by the poisonous words. He didn't care. There was no point in getting upset, save for the failure of his life. He was still mourning that.
"Okay, I understand. But couldn't you just send me to heaven instead of another world?"
"You mean hell?"
"No, heaven. I'm pretty sure I did good."
"No, no, no. When you died, you made a super cancer. You committed a sin. Don't question me."
Suddenly, Ronkai's face turned extremely pale, becoming as white as snow. The god's words gave him a nagging itch on his skull. He spoke slowly again, but this time his voice was shaky and trembling.
"Uh... w-what? I'm pretty sure I didn't create cancer... it was just a failed serum... it killed me, that's it..."
The old man chuckled with mockery. This moment brought such extreme joy to his heart that it could lighten his darkest thoughts in an instant. It was arguably the best moment of his immortal life.
"Oh no, you definitely did. It wiped out half the planet in two hours. Humanity is crumbling as we speak. Honestly, for the first time in my life dealing with the dead, I have never seen such a pathetic way to go."
Ronkai's mind began to swirl violently, like water going down a drain. He had tried to do the greater good, yet he had accidentally created a super cancer. He touched his forehead, trying to relieve the throbbing pressure in his skull.
"Man... alright, that was on me. I guess I do deserve hell."
"Unfortunately, you won't go there. Heaven and hell do not exist."
"That's good, I guess. So, is this fantasy world modern? Or like in those comics?"
"You mean manga?"
"Comics."
"Manga!"
"..."
With a defeated sigh, he gave in.
"Fine, manga."
"To answer you, it is like those fictional stories, but real. Not to brag, but Eldoria holds the most powerful Japanese people in existence. Naturally, someone like you cannot compare to them, let alone me."
"A fantasy world... with no technology... wait, would there be a toilet? Also paper? And, like, toothbrushes?"
"...Um, no. Why do you ask?"
"I'm just saying, sounds like hell if there's none of that."
"Well, there is none."
Ronkai looked at the god with distaste. The realization that this world lacked basic amenities made his skin crawl, as if bugs were wriggling beneath the surface.
"Then how the hell am I supposed to take a shit? You expect me to use leaves?"
"Why are you even asking that? Just deal with it."
Ronkai sighed with frustration so intense it could have lit a house ablaze. Would anyone want to go to a world without basic necessities? Perhaps magic could wipe your ass for you; it was a possibility. If so, he wouldn't mind much. But no TV? Especially GTA 6. He had died before it was even released, and back home, it was already 2056.
"ENOUGH! It is time for you to go." The god's voice shattered the wind, cutting through the space like a blade through flesh.
The god's racist energy flared up again. It was the disdain of a predator looking at vermin. He couldn't stand to feel Ronkai's presence; it felt like sandpaper rubbing against his soul. The god stood up, standing maybe five-six. He accidentally stepped onto his long beard, which jerked his head downward. Not thinking clearly, he pulled against it, straining harder and harder until the beard ripped right off his face, leaving a clean shave. He coughed slightly and straightened up.
"Hold on. What about magic? You giving me a starter kit? Weapons? Maybe a translation skill?"
"NO SUCH THING WILL BE GRANTED. This is the only rule I am allowed to break, and I revel in it."
The discriminatory aura swept through the room like an immense shadow.
"Get ready," the god muttered.
Ronkai began to sweat as the atmosphere changed. The room darkened until the god, the table, and the light vanished. For a moment, he saw only pure darkness, but then his stomach twisted violently. His throat felt hot and bitter. The world around him became extremely dizzy. He felt fluid in his throat, and without warning, the fluids came out as he vomited.
His mind spun uncontrollably. The worst part was floating into the pure void. He sped up, faster and faster, as vomit flew everywhere. Nothing could be seen or touched. His body had lost control, his muscles unresponsive to his brain's commands. All Ronkai could do was endure it. Thinking was impossible; focus was lost. Ronkai's mind drifted into a forced slumber.
Stillness. That was the only thing Ronkai could feel. The dizziness faded like a virus being erased by an antivirus. Ronkai felt himself lying down, eyes closed, embracing the familiar darkness. It felt like a grass field, with a gentle wind blowing on his face. With relief, he stayed down to enjoy it.