When I opened my eyes, I was lying face-down on something cold and hard. Stone? My head throbbed like someone had used it as a drum. Groaning, I pushed myself up on my elbows.
Wrong. Everything felt wrong.
The room around me was small and cramped. A desk drowning in papers. Filing cabinets with drawers half-open, documents spilling out. A dying plant in the corner. Everything is covered in a fine layer of dust.
On the wall, a plague hung crooked:
TAKATANA DETECTIVE AGENCY No Case Too Small, No Mystery Unsolved
The lettering was faded. Someone had scrawled "FRAUD" across it in red marker.
My heart hammered in my chest. This was impossible. This had to be some kind of elaborate prank, or maybe I was having a stroke. People didn't just get transported into other worlds. That wasn't how reality worked.
A piece of paper on the desk caught my eye. Bold red letters:
FINAL NOTICE DEBT COLLECTION - 200 GOLD ARGENTUM PAYMENT DUE: 3 DAYS
Three days? For almost 200 Gold?
I fumbled through the papers on the desk, my hands shaking. Bills. All bills. Overdue rent. Unpaid loans. Legal fees for something called "fraudulent investigation practices."
And underneath all of it, a newspaper clipping:
LOCAL DETECTIVE AGENCY UNDER FIRE HIROTO TAKATANA FACES FIFTH LAWSUIT THIS YEAR "He couldn't find water if you threw him in the ocean," says unsatisfied client
My name. They used my name.
I spun around, looking for a mirror. There - a cracked one hanging near the door. I stumbled toward it.
The face staring back at me was almost mine.
Almost.
Same height - I'd always been on the shorter side at 5'8, something that had earned me endless teasing in school. The same soft features that people always said made me look younger than I was, more delicate than masculine.
But there was one stark difference.
A single streak of pure white hair ran through the left side of my black hair, stark as a lightning bolt against the darkness.
I reached up, touching it. Real. It was real.
My face looked exhausted. Dark circles under my eyes. Skin pale like I hadn't seen sunlight in weeks. But it was recognizably me. Just... wrong. Like looking at myself through a distorted mirror.
A soft ding echoed in my head, like a notification sound. Then text appeared in my vision, floating in the air like a video game HUD:
WELCOME TO THE SHERLOCKIAN DIFFICULTY
PREMIER DETECTIVE AGENCY SYSTEM INITIALIZING...
CURRENT STATUS:
Debt: 200 Golden Argentums (Due in 3 days)
Reputation: F-Rank (142 negative reviews)
Solved Cases: 3/89 (96.6% failure rate)
Stygian Core: Stage - 0 (Unformed)
MAIN QUEST: Solve the 10 Wonders and return to your original world
IMMEDIATE QUEST: Don't get evicted in 3 days
SYSTEM SHOP: [LOCKED - Solve your first case to unlock]
I stared at the floating text, my mind reeling.
Magic. There was magic in this world. Stygian Cores. Paths. And I was apparently the worst detective in existence.
A sharp knock at the door made me jump.
"Takatana! I know you're in there!" A gruff voice shouted. "You've got until Friday to pay up or I'm throwing your ass on the street! And don't think you can weasel out of this one!"
The footsteps retreated down what sounded like a hallway.
I stood frozen in the middle of this disaster of an office, in a world that shouldn't exist, staring at a quest log that told me I had three days to solve a case and earn money.
The irony hit me like a punch to the gut.
I wanted a real mystery? One with actual stakes?
Careful what you wish for.
I scanned my surroundings. Papers flung, trash and empty bottles littered the ground, and scrapped case files scattered across the room.
Did I take over someone's body, or was I given a backstory?
I felt my pockets and pulled out a wallet. My face stared back at me on the ID.
"This is without a doubt, my face." I whispered.
What was going on? I'd read Isekai stories but since when did they actually exist. This is an illogical fallacy. An error in existence itself.
I looked through my wallet and found some paper notes—nothing like Yen. The bills had ornate designs, glowing faintly with what might've been magic
If the currency followed the same laws as in the game then I had about 1,250 Yen to my name.
And I needed 3 million.
I rubbed my face in irritation.
How the fuck did this body rack up so much fucking debt?
A piercing pain entered my head almost as if someone pierced it with a screwdriver.
I dropped to the ground and writhed in pain.
I don't know how long I was on the ground for
By the time I got up a series of new thoughts entered my head.
Magic? There was magic in this difficulty now?
I look at my wrist and see a tattoo of a big 0 with intricate symbols surrounding it.
And in a world dominated by magic this person failed to awaken it.
Shaking off many unnecessary thoughts I decided to take action.
A case file caught my eye. A missing persons case. The reward seemed to be about 5 Gold Argentums. Equivalent to about 1,000,000 yen back in my world.
I guess I have to start somewhere.
I opened the file and quickly scanned the paper.
Missing artifact last spotted inside of Regiran's Artificery on 502 Loonder St.
URGENT : Very important artifact. A rough sketch of the artifact is attached.
Once the artifact is returned to the owner the payment will be given. An extra 5 Gold Argentums will be given based on the speed of request finished.
I pocket the case file and put on my detective's coat which has… seen better days to say the least.
I grab an old revolver I find on my desk and toss some bullets in my pocket. It looks outdated and most likely not magically enhanced.
I wipe it off with my coat and reload it, noticing the bullet capacity of about 6.
Once everything was in order, I headed out towards Loonder St.
Loonder Street was in the Vermillion District, about twenty minutes on foot. I couldn't afford transit—the metro ran on Essence-powered rails and cost 5 Silver per ride. That was nearly half my remaining funds.
A woman walked by with actual flames dancing in her palms as she lit a cigarette. A teenager floated three inches off the ground, bobbing up and down like he was in low gravity. Two men in business suits had glowing tattoos running down their left arms—their Stage markings, I realized. Stage 6 and Stage 8.
As I approached the store's location, I guided myself with my old Crystal Interface, this world's equivalent of a smart phone. The location seemed eerily desolate.
People's gaze lingered on my wrist, a big 0 tattooed indicative of my stage 0 core. They leered at me with disgust as if I was a lesser being.
I ignored them and walked up to the foot of the store. I knocked but there was no answer, an eerie silence lingered.
"Hello?" I called out once.
After waiting about another 2 minutes there seemed to be no reply so I decided to open the door.