Selected

Hi. Hi. Hello.
My name is Tanaka Yoina. Nice to meet you.
I'm thirty years old, single, and currently in debt for 6,800,000 yen.
The debt isn't mine.
It belongs to my childhood friend, who disappeared six months ago—along with her cheerful promises, her matching coffee mugs, and her very strong belief that everything would be fine.

Yes, I was the guarantor.
I still have the mugs.
And the debt.

Come on. At least I have something to pour coffee into every morning.
That's what I tell myself while holding the cup, breathing in the smell and enjoying my morning coffee.

Officially, I work as a secretary at a small travel agency that sells dreams I can't afford. Unofficially, I am everything else. I answer calls from people who are about to go somewhere amazing. I print itineraries I will never use. I fix booking mistakes I didn't make. I apologize when flights get cancelled, hotels get overbooked, and weather refuses to cooperate.

But when people leave smiling—when they bow and say thank you and talk excitedly about their trip—I feel something warm in my chest. I really do. Even if I can't go, I'm happy that they can.

That's enough.

Today was just normal. Which means it was long.
By the time I locked the office door, the sky had already turned dark, and the city lights were glowing like someone else's happiness. I took the train home, holding my bag in front of me, thinking about tomorrow's schedules, next month's bills, and whether I could stretch my salary just a little more.

When I opened the door to my apartment, the quiet greeted me first.

"I'm home," I said softly, to no one in particular.
Just an old habit. Saying it makes the place feel less empty.

I kicked off my shoes, hung up my coat, and stood still for a second. Just breathing.
Phew. Another week survived.

I went straight to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Warm water washed the day off my shoulders—the phone calls, the smiles, the apologies. I hummed without thinking, a small tune with no meaning. La la... la la...

Thirty minutes later, I stepped out, hair still dripping, wrapped in soft pyjamas that felt like safety. I looked at myself in the mirror.

Whoa. Panda eyes.
Limited edition. I smiled a little. At least I was still here.

I carried my skincare bottles to the low table in the living room—the table that did everything in my life. I sat down, tied my hair back, and finally exhaled.

Let's treat my skin a little better today.

[Buzz.]

My phone flickered. Notification received. It was already midnight. I picked up the device, water still clinging to my fingers.

[You have been selected.]

Selected for what?
My first thought was a scam. My second thought was also a scam.
My third thought—unfortunately—was curiosity. I tapped the notification.

[Please install the application to access the full Employment Agreement.]

"...Okay," I whispered. "Now I'm really curious."

I pressed install. The screen changed. No logo. No company name. Just text.

[JOB DESCRIPTION] Position: Temporary Worker: Tier 1
Location: Assigned upon arrival
Shift: One (1) Night (Standard Planar Time)
Start: Immediately
Compensation: 100,000 JPY (Guaranteed upon check-out)

[Warning: Failure to complete the shift will result in automatic debt-collection procedures.] [By continuing, you agree to the D.E.B.T. Binding Terms.]

I hesitated. Usually, I'd just skip this, but the 100,000 yen figure felt too good to be true. I needed to see the catch. I tapped on the underlined 'Terms'.

A small, clinical pop-up appeared instantly.

[Notice: Accessing the 'Full Binding Terms' requires a Data Consultation Fee of 500 JPY. This amount will be automatically deducted from your registered bank account immediately. Do you wish to proceed?]

I stared at the screen, my jaw dropping. "Charging for reading the Terms?" I whispered, my heart sinking. I only had about 4,000 yen in my account. Taking 500 yen just for a peek at some legal text felt so unfair.

But if I didn't read it, and I got into even more debt... I couldn't take that risk. I had to be careful. For my own sake.

With a trembling finger, I tapped [YES].

[Ping!] [Transaction Successful: -500 JPY. Remaining Balance: 3,500 JPY.]

A wall of text flooded the screen—thousands of lines of legal jargon that made my head spin.

...Clause 1.01: The Employee hereby consents to Inter-planar Molecular Relocation for the purpose of temporary human resource allocation... Please note that 'Legal unsuccessful' may be interpreted as 'Unpaid Leave of Absence,' and the Terminal reserves the right to hold the goods as collateral...

I scrolled, trying to find anything that made sense. Goods? What goods? My matching coffee mugs? My second-hand laptop? I didn't have anything worth holding as collateral.

...Section 8.4: In the event that the Employee is ingested by a VIP Entity, the contract is void. A 'Premature Termination Fee' of 300,000 JPY will be applied to the Employee's estate...

Suddenly, the screen froze again. Another pop-up blocked the text.

[Notice: To continue reading the remaining 8,422 pages of Binding Terms, an additional Data Consultation Fee of 500 JPY is required. Do you wish to proceed?]

I froze. I stared at the "Remaining Balance: 3,500 JPY" in the corner of my eye. "Another 500 yen...?" My voice was small, but I could feel a newfound determination sparking.

If I kept paying, I'd have no money left for groceries tomorrow. But if I stopped now, my first 500 yen would be gone for nothing. I wouldn't pay another 500 yen for nothing—I had to earn it back!

"D.E.B.T.?" I already have one of those....

I didn't read another word. I swiped all the way to the bottom with a quiet, intense focus.

[ ACCEPT ]

"Okay," I whispered, pressing the button. "Let's just try it."

In an instant, the cold blue light from the screen exploded. A violent, sickening tug pulled at the center of my chest, dragging my entire body toward the smartphone.

"Wait—what!?"

My phone dissolved into digital particles. My apartment blurred into melting wax, the lavender scent replaced by a freezing gust of wind that smelled of woodsmoke and raw meat.

I felt my pyjamas vanish, replaced in a heartbeat by something heavy and structured. A crisp white shirt gripped my shoulders, covered by a sturdy, cream-colored apron. I felt the weight of leather straps crossing over my back, cinching a thick utility belt around my waist. A small, rugged leather pouch sat heavy against my hip. It wasn't just a kitchen apron; it felt like a tactical uniform for a professional laborer.

[Worker ID #4141: Dispatched.] [Initializing Augmented Reality Interface...]

THUD!

My knees hit a hard dirt floor. My head spun as I gasped for air, clutching my chest. I was in a cavernous, dim room lit by a massive hearth. Before I could even scream, a translucent blue window materialized right in front of my face.

[Notification: Your shift has started.] [Task: Prepare the 'Midnight Feast' for the High-Orc Mercenaries.] [Time remaining until service: 15 minutes.]

"H-High-Orc...?" I stammered, my hands trembling as they gripped the heavy wooden handle of a meat cleaver the size of a dinner plate.

CRASH!

A fist the size of a melon slammed onto the wooden counter.

"Human!" a creature roared, a mountain of green muscle and tusks looming over me. "Stop staring! Move! Work faster!"

"Where is the meat!?" another green-skinned warrior yelled from the shadows. "If the pot isn't bubbling in five minutes, the Captain will use you for the broth!"

I looked up at the giant Orcs. My knees were shaking—I couldn't believe this was real! I was terrified, but then I remembered the 500 yen they took from my bank account and that 'Termination Fee' of 300,000 JPY.

I absolutely cannot afford another debt.

I took a deep breath, straightened my apron, and gave the Orc my best, most professional secretary smile. "I... I understand, sir," I said, my voice wobbling only slightly.
"I'll have the soup ready immediately."

I will just... I really need this job to work out. Yoina, you can do it!

I took one more deep breath... Let's get to work!!

[D.E.B.T System Note: Customer satisfaction is 0%. Please avoid being processed as 'Emergency Protein' before your first paycheck.]