You ever do something so dumb that even your future self wouldn't forgive you?
Yeah. That was me. My name's Keiji Tamura, 19, proudly unemployed, living off leftover instant noodles and raw determination. One day, my Wi-Fi gets cut off—again—and naturally, instead of paying the bill like a responsible adult, I decide to "borrow" my neighbor's signal. Just needed that last 2% to finish a video of a raccoon driving a tank.
So there I am. Balanced on a wobbly chair, holding my phone out the window with a broomstick, trying to catch a signal. I swear I saw a single bar flash—then I sneezed.
Boom. Down I go. Fourth floor. Concrete.
I died for internet.
No truck. No explosion. No noble sacrifice. Just gravity and stupidity.
Cue the Afterlife…?
So I wake up, thinking maybe heaven's a chill place. You know—clouds, angels, endless ramen.
Nope.
I open my eyes to a sky that's blood-red, the sound of screaming in the distance, and a smell that can only be described as "if a goblin and a raccoon had a garbage baby." I'm lying on hard cobblestone in an alleyway that's actively on fire.
A demon janitor sweeps past me like this is Tuesday.
"New guy, huh? Don't block the sidewalk, dumbass."
Not even a "welcome." I try to stand up—naked, mind you—and this giant screen appears in the air in front of me:
[Welcome to Eldrenthal: Realm of Steel and Suffering!]
Race: Human
Class: Freeloading Bum
Skill: None
Debt: 0 (…for now)
Oh good. Even magical worlds have loading screens.
Meet the Landlord from Hell (Literally)
After getting dragged out of the alley by a one-eyed talking cat in a construction vest (don't ask), I'm handed a scroll.
A lease.
A magical lease contract.
Apparently, being reincarnated into this world doesn't mean I get a cool sword or fire magic. Nope. I get a one-room apartment and a monthly bill. The guy who owns the entire complex?
Velzharon, Lord of the Ninth Infernal Plane, Destroyer of Light, Master of Rent Collection.
But everyone just calls him Boss.
He looks like he stepped out of a metal album—horns, glowing eyes, cape made of flaming bats. But instead of throwing fireballs or monologuing about domination, he's holding a clipboard.
"Welcome to Doomview Complex. Rent's due on the sixth. No loud summoning after midnight. Pets allowed, as long as they don't explode."
I'm too confused to scream, so I just sign the lease.
I mean, what else am I gonna do? Sleep in the alley again?
Doomview Complex Is... Not Great
So my new "home" is on the third floor of a crumbling tower in a district called Hell's Alley. The hallway lights flicker like they're haunted (they are), and the elevator growled at me.
My unit? One bed made of hay. A cracked mirror. A cursed fridge that hums the Jaws theme at night. And the toilet?
It barked at me.
There's a slime growing in the sink that's either my new pet or an infestation—I haven't decided yet. My neighbors include:
A banshee who sings karaoke at 2 AM.
A fire elemental who smokes indoors.
And a guy named Todd who's definitely a zombie but insists he's just "tired."
My new roommate shows up halfway through my mental breakdown. She kicks the door open with a foot covered in fur and drops a backpack full of bones.
"Yo. I'm Rumi. I snore. Don't touch my food or I'll bite your leg off."
She's a half-werewolf girl with a resting "I will stab you" face.
I immediately regret signing that lease.
Skills? Abilities? A Reason to Exist?
So you're probably thinking: "Keiji, don't worry. You'll unlock some god-tier cheat power any second now!"
Nope. I checked the system menu. Wanna know what I got?
[Passive Skill Unlocked: Procrastination+]
Effect: Gains 1% extra XP when doing things at the last second.
Even magic hates me.
There's a button labeled "Grind for Gold". I click it, hoping for a side quest or at least a pity bonus. It gives me a list of available jobs:
Pick up trash in the goblin district.
Clean haunted toilets.
Babysit a dragon toddler (pay: 5 soul coins, danger: VERY HIGH)
Yay.
I choose the trash gig. They hand me a mop made out of spider legs and a bucket that whispers insults in Latin.
Rent Is Due (Or Else)
The next day, the Demon Lord knocks on my door. Not with flames. Not with a giant scythe. No. He's holding a clipboard and sipping black coffee out of a skull mug.
"Hey. Just checking in. Rent's due in two weeks. You break it, you buy it. If your soul value drops below three stars, we have the right to convert you into a footstool."
Then he winks.
He winks.
I've been here less than 48 hours and I already owe my life to a demon landlord with a filing system.
Final Thoughts (So Far)
I died chasing Wi-Fi. Now I live in a crumbling death trap with a werewolf girl who growls in her sleep and a fridge that tries to kill me at midnight. My boss is the king of Hell, and my best-paying job involves scrubbing goblin goo off cursed statues.
But I'm still alive.
Kinda.
And I swear, one way or another, I'm gonna survive this world—even if I have to fake being a hero, scam my way into the guild, or bribe my oven with leftover toast.
...As soon as I figure out how to stop it from hissing at me.
TO BE CONTINUED