Takumi stood in the kitchen, staring blankly at the wall while a magical voice discussed grocery discounts.
> "Limited-time offer: Firewood bundles now 0.3 O.R.C. per stack! Perfect for emotional warmth and actual warmth!"
He didn't respond. He was holding a cup of tea, mostly for the comfort of the ritual. The steam fogged up his glasses.
Kuma sat at his usual spot near the window, dozing lightly. His ears twitched now and then—either at the sound of birds outside or in response to Madoka's persistent voice.
> "Would you like to hear about composting in magical biomes? I have a PowerPoint."
"No," Takumi muttered into his tea.
> "Okay. But I'm saving it for later."
He sighed and wandered over to the living room. The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the tatami mats. For a moment, it almost felt normal. Just a quiet day at home. If you ignored the glowing blue fence outside, the delivery crate that had popped into existence yesterday, and the fact that his house now had a name and a personality.
Takumi sat on the couch and rubbed his temples. "Alright, Madoka. Explain the credits thing again, but slowly this time."
> "Certainly. O.R.C.—Otherworld Resource Credit—is the currency I use to purchase items from the interdimensional store. You can acquire O.R.C. by exchanging acceptable items such as lumber, herbs, ore, or any rare magical components from this world."
"Right. So basically, I go outside, chop wood, sell it to you, and you give me funny money to buy rice?"
> "Correct. Minus the part where you call it 'funny money.' It hurts morale."
He took another sip. "Do I have an axe?"
A pause.
> "Yes. It's in the shed."
"I have a shed?"
> "I made a shed."
He peeked out the back window. There it was—a small wooden structure nestled beside the fence. It looked freshly built.
"Of course you did," he mumbled, finishing his tea.
---
Outside, the morning air was crisp and clean. Dew clung to the grass, and birds hopped along the fenceposts like nosy neighbors.
The axe was exactly where Madoka said it would be. Clean, sharp, and slightly glowing.
He approached a nearby tree cautiously. Not too big, not too small. Probably not sentient.
"Sorry," he muttered to it, and swung.
The blade bit cleanly into the wood. Satisfying. He wasn't sure if it was magic or just a really good edge, but it made the work easier than expected.
Kuma laid down in the sun nearby, his massive head resting on his paws, occasionally watching his human with a lazy blink.
A couple hours passed. The pile of firewood grew steadily. Takumi wiped his forehead with his sleeve and leaned against the shed.
"Alright, Madoka. Firewood, ready to barter."
> "Uploading inventory… Processing… Acceptable! 0.9 O.R.C. credited to your account."
He nodded, oddly pleased. It was mundane, in a weird way. A familiar kind of labor, just in a completely unfamiliar world.
---
Meanwhile, not far from the forest clearing, a small group of villagers had gathered behind a tangle of low shrubs. They crouched in silence, watching the house from a distance.
"That fence repelled a crow," one whispered. "Didn't kill it. Just—sent it flying like a leaf in a storm."
A second villager nodded. "No animals go near that place. Not even the brave ones. The air around it feels… wrong."
The oldest of them, a stooped man with deep lines on his face, held up a trembling hand. "It is no ordinary structure. It breathes with energy. I've seen runes glow on its walls when the sun hits just right."
They watched as Takumi chopped another log and tossed it neatly into a stack.
"Yet the man living there behaves like… like it's nothing strange at all."
"Do you think he's cursed?"
"Or blessed."
One of them cleared his throat. "Should we tell the mayor?"
Another silence. Then a slow nod.
"Let's observe one more day. If he starts conjuring storms or speaking with fire, we'll send word."
---
Back at the house, Takumi was rummaging through the pantry.
"I need salt," he said aloud.
> "Item listed. 0.2 O.R.C."
"Order it, please."
> "Done. Delivery in three… two… one—"
Ding-dong.
He didn't jump this time. Just opened the door to find another neat wooden crate. Inside: a ceramic jar labeled "Salt (Not Cursed)."
He picked it up, turned it over, shrugged. "I'll take it."
> "Now that we've completed a basic loop of task-reward-cycle, would you like to hear about shelter expansion? I have prefab options."
"Maybe later," he muttered, closing the door.
> "You keep saying that, Takumi."
---
Afternoon faded into early evening.
Takumi stood by the sink, chopping vegetables from the earlier delivery. Kuma hovered nearby, watching intently, tail wagging once for every slice of carrot.
It felt quiet again. Not like the first morning—tense, surreal. This was something closer to peace. Still strange, still unfamiliar, but tolerable.
Maybe this place wasn't so bad. He had shelter. Food. An income, sort of. And Kuma.
> "Takumi."
He looked up. "Yeah?"
> "There is someone standing outside the fence."
He blinked. "…What?"
> "Twenty-three meters to the north. Human. Cloaked. Not armed. Not visibly aggressive. Probably confused."
He moved to the window and peered through the curtain.
Sure enough, just beyond the shimmer of the barrier fence, stood a young woman in worn travel clothes. She didn't seem threatening. Just… uncertain. Hesitant. Maybe scared.
She raised one hand. Not a wave. Just a small gesture of greeting.
"…Well," he murmured. "There goes quiet."
Kuma sat up beside him and let out a low, curious huff.
> "Would you like to activate 'Intimidating Music Mode'?"
"No," he said, pulling on a jacket. "Let's keep it normal."
> "Define normal."
"I'll let you know if I find it."
He stepped toward the door, unsure what to say or how to greet a fantasy-world stranger as a man in pajamas with a talking house and a drooling Saint Bernard.
Behind him, the kettle clicked off. Kuma gave a low bark.
And outside, just beyond the fence, the visitor waited.