The bored-looking man sat in a fancy office chair in what looked like an office with no walls, a black abyss stretching in every direction.

A mini-fridge filled to the brim with off-brand alcohol stood guard over his untidy bed.

In the middle stood a small desk with what looked like a computer screen, a phone on the side and a ring of worn wood from where his coffee mug always sat.

An ashtray stood beside the coffee mug stain.

Opposite it stood a little picture frame.

Beside the monitor stood a little, four-digit flip-counter showing "0013" on it.

"..." the man wore a casual shirt under a thick layer of armour plates over which he wore a nice tie.

His shirt-sleeves were poking out from under his plate shoulder pads.

Metal plates were placed over his elbows, attached with many leather straps.

Gloves covered his palms, they were brown with a green underside.

He wore brown trousers that looked normal except for the metal plates he attached over the kneecaps.

His boots were also made from steel with large plates strong enough to keep a boulder from crushing his feet.

He had unkempt light chestnut hair covered by a light brown bucket hat, he also had a short, scraggly beard of the same colour.

"Does nobody need help in this entire universe?!" he demanded leaning back in his chair.

"I left my ad out in every world, didn't I?!"

"How long has it been since my last job?! It was a nice break at first but this is ridiculous! I'll never reach one-thousand at this rate!" he cried reaching for a cigarette.

Suddenly, as if his cries for a job were heard he was transported to the centre of a massive cathedral.

The stained glass windows reflected all sorts of colours around the room, dozens of rows of dozens of benches stood around the small alter raised off the ground on a platform of stone.

Candles and bundles of flowers lay around the entire ground.

He looked down and saw a man clad in shining armour, gold and silver with a red cape that flowed in the wind, he had white hair and amber eyes.

"Ah! You have come!" he exclaimed, he held a calm yet welcoming expression.

"Yeah! You're the first one to call me since... in a long time!" exclaimed the bearded man, his face beamed with excitement at the prospect of getting his world-saving count up.

"My name is Arthur, I have been brought to this world by God to save these people, however-" he was cut off.

"Things went to shit, right?" asked the man shooting Arthur finger-pistols.

Arthur nodded awkwardly with red-cheeks.

"Alright, I'm Gordon!" he exclaimed pointing at himself with his thumb.

"I'm the leader and only employee of the Isekai-Protagonist-Support-Service!" he exclaimed reaching into his pocket and pulling out a notepad and pencil.

"So, what's the problem?" he asked.

"Well... after I was brought to this world I was tasked by the church with overthrowing the corrupt king," Arthur explained.

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"I see..." Gordon began scribbling in his notebook.

Arthur gestured towards the massive door, Gordon looked and through the giant windows, saw that a massive riot was in session, the doors to the cathedral were blocked by massive piles of wood and crates as several robed individuals stood guard with staffs.

Rocks and other items were thrown at the sturdy windows.

One of the robed figures opened the door and exclaimed: "Everyone, calm down! You will obey your new lord, ar-" the figure was interrupted when they were grabbed by half a dozen hands in the crowd, the doors were quickly shut and further reinforced as black blood and organs sprayed outside and onto the stained glass windows.

Peasants rallied, continuing to throw rocks and wield pitchforks as they screamed even louder.

"..." Gordon looked back to Arthur with a "Go on..." look as he wrote something else in his notebook.

"And... I slew the king upon our first meeting, I was blessed with a sacred weapon of the gods by the leader of the church that allowed me to defeat the corrupt king!" Arthur exclaimed holding out a solid black blade that writhed with tentacles and what looked like insect legs as screams echoed from within.

Upon being drawn from its scabbard the flames of the nearby candles turned blue as the flowers wilted.

"..." Gordon's expression soured as he looked at Arthur, unsure if he was joking or not.

"That is very obviously not a holy weapon..." Gordon remarked bringing his finger close to the blade as it reached out towards him like an amorphous goop that shifted into a toothed jaw and bit down on his finger before he yanked it back with a yelp.

"Ouch!"

"That seemed pretty demonic if you ask me!" he exclaimed wiping the black sludge on his gloved hand on his trousers.

"I require blood, Arthur!" the blade cried.

Arthur looked at the blade again.

"Are you sure?"

"Murder them all, Arthur!" the blade hissed.

"Not now!" Arthur exclaimed placing the blade back in its scabbard.

Gordon let out a sigh.

"Who gave the sword to you?" he asked looking around for any possible foe.

"Hm? Oh, that was archbishop Darkfiend, he said he couldn't personally give it to me so one of his cloaked helpers delivered it to me!" he explained.

"What kind of name is 'Darkfiend'!?"

"Cloaked helpers?" asked Gordon looking back to the robed figures by the gate.

"Stay back, peasants!" one of them exclaimed as black tendrils covered in rose-like thorns shot out from under their robe, smashing through the windows and skewering dozens of the peasants at once, bathing everyone in blood and further contributing to the panic.

"Dude... that's clearly some eldritch abomination!" Gordon said stomping over to the robed figure and yanking off the hood exposing a mass of writhing tendrils and eyes.

Arthur's eyes widened as he let out a gasp.

"That-!"

"Yeah." Gordon nodded.

"That's such a terrible skin condition!" Arthur exclaimed rushing to the figure.

"Don't worry about it, Steve, I'll figure out a cure with the power of God on my side!" Arthur exclaimed placing the hood back over his head.

"Ummm... thanks, hero...?" even the robed monster sounded unsure.

"DOWN WITH THE TYRANT HERO!" cried one of the peasants from outside the now shattered windows.

"Arthur, look, buddy. I'm going to need you to trust me on this one, these are not the good guys..." Gordon said speaking very slowly.

From behind a deep, guttural voice came as from a black vortex of smoke and magic appeared the monster.

"Arthur..." it was a massive, cloaked figure with several glowing eyes visible from under its hood, its form writhed with tendrils that occasionally poked through its clothes.

"Oh, archbishop!" Arthur exclaimed bowing down curtly.

"Is he actually fucking with me?! He has GOT to be fucking with me, no way in hell anyone can look at THAT and call it an archbishop!" Gordon thought as he stomped over to the bishop.

"THIS IS CLEARLY A MONSTER!" he exclaimed pulling the robe off and revealing a million arms, eyes, legs and tentacles forming one black form, massive, toothy mouths opened up all over the creature as black tongues writhed inside producing a black liquid that burned the very ground they stood on.

"...erm ...I-" the archbishop began coming up with an excuse when Arthur spoke up.

"That's it, Gordon, you show up, tell me my blade of doom and despair isn't really a holy weapon and strip the members of the holy church off their clothes like a psychopath!" Arthur exclaimed placing his hands on his hips with a frown.

"Arthur! HE IS MADE OF LIQUID-EVIL AND EYEBALL!" Gordon cried pointing to the monster once more.

"You got some nerve!" Arthur exclaimed stomping over and grabbing Gordon before marching towards the front door and tossing him out into the screaming peasants.

Gordon crowd-surfed over the angry mob and fell to the ground outside what looked like an inn.

"That was fun..." he remarked before standing up.

The roads were dirt with cobblestone side-walks and occasional trees were planted on the corners for a nice effect.

No walls were visible though most homes had some sort of gate or fence, they all had tiled rooves and stone bricks.

Windows were made from glass and looked pretty modern compared to the rest of the town.

He jotted his observations down in his notebook.

"Well, I can't go back up until he's done with his request..." he sighed patting his clothes clean.

He looked around and down to his wrist where he saw a small metal watch that looked borderline bulletproof.

It had two pictures one of a smiley-face and one of a skull, a little red indicator moved towards the skull.

"I'd say they have a week before the end of this world..." he remarked scratching his chin.

He began scratching his head.

"I can't just kill the archbishop myself..."

"I can't make anybody other than Arthur be the hero..."

"Oh, but why is this hero such an idiot!?" Gordon demanded out-loud.

"Well, isn't that a popular opinion..." said a voice from behind.

Gordon spun around seeing what looked like a female cleric, blond hair and blue eyes as well as yellow-green robes with a white trim.

"The guy thinks a black tentacle monster is an archbishop!" Gordon said sounding borderline depressed.

"He also murdered the king and placed the monsters in positions of high power as nobles!" explained the cleric.

"Right... well, in any case, I have to figure out a way to get him to see through their lies... or rather see through his stupidity..." Gordon said turning away from the cleric as he began squeezing through the crowd only to be pulled back out by the cleric.

"Really? Well, I have a great solution!" she exclaimed.

Gordon raised an eyebrow.

"Follow me!" she exclaimed walking behind the inn and into the unlit alley filled with barrels and crates.

Gordon stood outside the alley with crossed arms.

"I'm not going in there..." he stated.

"W-why not?!" she demanded.

"I can see you're holding a mace..." he replied gesturing toward the glint of the blunt end of the mace.

"..." she put the mace away slowly.

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, I'm not convinced your intentions line up with my intentions of continued living..." he remarked.

They looked at each other awkwardly for a solid ten seconds before she reached for the mace and tossed it at him, hitting his head and causing him to fall to the ground unconscious.