I had always enjoyed cultural pastimes.
To put it simply, I was an otaku who was into subcultures.
Like most people of that sort, I enjoyed not only consuming works but also wasting time on fantasies.
And among those fantasies, the standard favorite was, without question, reincarnation in another world.
To be honest, I was living well enough that I had nothing to envy in others.
After all, misfortune ultimately arises from comparing oneself to other people.
I loved my ordinary life as it was, and I had no desire to throw myself in front of a truck just to volunteer for a harsh life in a foreign land.
But that didn’t mean I denied that there was romance to be found there.
Swords, magic, and adventure.
If you could shoot a fireball from your hand right now, how many people would refuse?
If some accident were to kill me and I found myself dropped into a far-off foreign world,
then I would have no choice but to leave the past behind and enjoy that world to my heart’s content.
That was what I had thought.
At least, until then.
“Ah.”
It wasn’t a truck, nor had I died of some chronic illness.
I had merely turned on the game for my next, fifty-eighth run.
This is an important point, so I should emphasize it once more.
I had “merely turned it on.”
In other words, I hadn’t even gotten as far as starting the campaign and creating a character.
And just like that, overnight, I became a nameless extra and was dropped into another world.