Episode 01 : Wi-Fi Built on a Goddess’s Stomach Aches

“I can’t take this anymore! When someone gets summoned to another world, aren’t they supposed to go on adventures, eat amazing food, and enjoy life?! Why are YOU just watching the same videos every single day?!”

A scream, far too beautiful for my living room, shook the air.

That noise rewrote my life’s spec sheet.

My remote work—lazily updating another world without stepping a foot outside.

It all began with the scream of a goddess who shoved this unreasonable “spec change” onto me.

(Wait... who is this beauty?)

The sheer volume made me flinch, sinking my hips deeper into the sofa as I froze mid-reach for a potato chip.

Silver hair swayed, and blue eyes glistened with tears as she wailed.

She looked mystical, but everything coming out of her mouth sounded like the desperate shriek of a corporate drone who just missed a deadline.

“Six months! It’s been SIX MONTHS! Do you have any idea how much the Chief God has been chewing me out?! ‘You messed up the summoning and dragged his entire house here, so YOU take responsibility and turn him into a hero.’ He dumped EVERYTHING on me! That damn supervisor!”

My familiar living room was floating alone in a vast white void.

Right at the edge of the floor stood the woman—a self-proclaimed agent of the gods.

(A dream? No, it’s giving me too much of a headache for a dream. Also, isn’t this technically breaking and entering?)

“And what’s with that look?! You should’ve been erased the moment that ‘accident’ happened! I hid you on top of the World Tree for half a year out of kindness! And you—YOU never stepped outside once! Just looping the same videos over and over! And on top of that—on top of THAT...!”

“Hiss!”

At my feet, Tama arched her back, her pitch-black fur bristling.

Her golden eyes glared at the woman with a cold, predatory light that didn't belong to a normal house cat.

“Eek—!? Wh-why is she looking at a goddess like she’s about to eat me?!”

The Goddess (provisional) recoiled pitifully.

Tama was likely threatening her because this woman was disturbing my peaceful nap. Good. Keep it up, girl.

Well, whatever.

This woman belongs to the personality type that fears their boss’s evaluation above all else.

(Which means she’s basically a walking pile of negotiation material.)

I wiped my grease-stained fingers on my pajamas and stood up with the dignified expression of a sage.

“Okay, Miss Goddess (provisional). Let’s calm down.”

“Wait! I have a name! Lumina! I’m Lumina! Second Management Division of the Celestial Realm! Remember it!”

“Got it, Lumina (provisional).”

“DON’T ADD PROVISIONAL!!”

(Yep. Easy to handle. She's a pushover.)

“Your talk of ‘adventure’ and ‘enjoying life’—that’s outdated and has a terrible cost-performance ratio. One man running around with a sword? In this day and age, that’s the peak of inefficiency.”

“Inefficient...? Are you calling a god inefficient...?”

“What this world needs right now isn’t one strong hero who’s good with a blade. It needs information consolidation and system optimization. I haven’t been staying indoors because I’m lazy. I’ve been testing the compatibility between the physical laws of this world and the knowledge I possess.”

“Testing...?”

(If you throw in some technical-sounding jargon, these types usually convince themselves.)

“For example, this video. Goldilocks testing porridge temperatures. Looks like a fairy-tale scene, right? But I’ve been using it to calculate heat transfer and viscosity. ...Well, since the internet is down, I’ve just been looping six months' worth of cached assets. At this rate, I can’t search for the ‘optimal solution’ to save the world.”

“O-optimal... solution...?”

“Exactly. If I had internet access, I could tap into thousands of years of human insight—agriculture, medicine, economics, infrastructure. A world that can't update its information is like an old PC that stopped receiving OS patches. Eventually, you’ll lose to the virus known as the Demon Lord. In other words, this world is currently... not worth patching.”

“Th-that would be bad! My performance bonus—no, I mean, the world’s fate...!”

“If I extract data from the Oracle of Google—no, the All-Knowing Database—this world will stabilize dramatically. That stability becomes YOUR evaluation. ...But for that, I need mental stability. Meaning, I need entertainment and infrastructure. If I die of stress, the update rights for this world will be lost forever. How are you going to report that to the Chief God?”

“...!! I have to stop that from happening! If my evaluation drops any lower, my performance bonus will be gone!”

Lumina began drawing glowing magic circles in the air while half-sobbing.

She was so desperate that she looked less like a god and more like a programmer pushed to a deadline.

Tama narrowed her golden eyes, looking up at me as if to say, “Good job.”

(Alright. Tama’s satisfied, and the high-speed fiber connection is confirmed.)

“Lumina, we have a deal. Oh, and while you’re at it, can I order from Am—”

“SHUT UP! Do whatever you want! Just get down to the surface and pull off some heroic-looking achievement already!!”

Her scream swallowed my vision in white.

Thus, my “belated moratorium period”—during which I had done exactly nothing—came to an end.

And so... I descended into the battlefield known as another world, armed with the greatest weapon of all: a high-speed fiber-optic connection.

...Now then.

The story goes back to six months ago.

To the day a blood-soaked black cat crawled through my window.

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