Getting summoned to another world is a dream. Getting stuck with a Holy Sword in a 10-square-meter apartment in Tokyo? That’s a logistical nightmare.
When I first laid hands on the Sacred Sword, I didn’t get a kingdom. I got a persistent ringing in my ears and a blade so dirty I had to scrub it with lemon-scented dish soap. Now, with a legendary Sword Saint living in my cramped space and 1.5 billion yen stuffed into 100-yen store plastic bags, my life has pivoted from "struggling salaryman" to "underground tycoon."
Between dodging tax audits, navigating market patrols, and dealing with anomalies that defy logic, I’ve realized one thing: Magic can kill a dragon, but only a solid contract can rule a world.
In a world of heroes and monsters, I’m not here to save the day. I’m here to close the deal
