The man glared at his laptop, frustrated. Reading stories on RoyalRoad had become more of a chore than a hobby. Grammar mistakes, poorly planned storylines, and a complete lack of My Little Pony crossovers were tragedies that seemed to plague the site more than anything else.

"MC's level of stupidity is simply astounding." he commented. "But it seems as though he only inherited a small fraction of the author's foolishness. You probably shouldn't even bother writing if your IQ isn't at least 160, like mine. I'm dropping this story- it's just not advanced enough for me." He submitted the comment and closed his laptop.

Sigh. Perhaps if those authors possessed even a quarter of his intellect, they could craft a story worthy of his time. When he moved to Japan and became a manga artist, he would show them all what a real story looked like. He adjusted his glasses, and they glinted in the light.

Dartanion Fischer got to his feet, thoughtfully stroking the scruffy, patchy brown beard attached to his neck. He wore a black overcoat, ketchup-stained khakis, and a blue t-shirt that read 'Will Trade Sister for Video Games'. It was much too small for him now, as he had grown since the eighth grade, in terms of both height and weight. He stood at an unfortunate 5'11" and considered himself to be disadvantaged as a result of that one inch keeping him from being six feet tall. He was still a large man by now, at around two hundred and fifty pounds.

After some thought, he decided that it was about time for him to eat some food. He made his way to the kitchen of his mother's old house, opening the freezer door. Empty. That's right, he'd finished off the last of the chicken tenders yesterday. Which meant it was time for a little trip to the store.

Chicken tenders were Dartanion's favorite food, and just about the only thing he ate. When his mother was moved into a nursing home, she could no longer buy them for him as she had for many years. Now, he was confronted with the looming threat of self-sufficiency. His mother told him there was nothing wrong with being a picky eater, that some just preferred certain foods over others. And she was right, he had turned out perfectly healthy and considered himself a highly capable man.

He donned his favorite article of clothing, a vintage black fedora that matched his stylish coat. It was time to venture out into the unknown, into the city where he lived. He had no driver's license but thankfully only lived a two-minute walk from a 7-Eleven, where he hoped to retrieve some food that would hopefully last him a week or so. The first exercise he'd had in months.

It was a hot day, our hero realized as he stepped into the outside air. He panicked slightly. Should he leave his coat at home? Or, should he go out wearing it anyway? He decided on the latter. It certainly was stylish, and perhaps it would earn him the attention of some fair maiden as he went.

So, the journey to 7-Eleven began, and truth be told, the jacket certainly did earn him some looks. He felt emboldened as he saw many passersby grant him smiles as they walked by him. Of course, it wasn't the jacket alone. It was likely due to the remarkable aura of class he knew he radiated wearing such unique clothing. A torrent of sweat poured down from his forehead and scalp, causing his pale features to glisten in the sunlight. Stains also quickly accumulated on his T-shirt.

Each time a particularly good-looking woman passed him by, Dartanion made certain to be a chivalrous gentleman and tip his hat in greeting. They did not seem to pay him much notice, but he was sure they appreciated the gesture. Women found his enormous self-confidence irresistible, and he knew they felt thankful to have recieved even a little bit of his attention. It was all just part of being a classy individual with abundant respect for women. Perhaps one day, he could find a nice, pretty, atheist woman who shared his love for My Little Pony and anime and knew better than to friendzone as good a man as he. But for now, his part-time job as a Discord moderator would have to serve as his main channel for meeting women his age.

Women were difficult to understand, in his opinion. They complained about boys being disrespectful and unfaithful, but they completely turned a blind eye to nice guys like himself. He knew he was good-looking, charming, and stylish to boot. Yet, for whatever reason, women seemed to only be interested in having him as a friend.

He sighed once more as he pulled open the heavy glass door to 7-Eleven, making a beeline for the freezer section. In this store, he had only one target and that was the frozen chicken tenders. He quickly grabbed two enormous bags, one in each hand, before making his way to the front counter. He had procured the finest cuisine around, and it would last him a good few days.

Suddenly, Dartanion's heart stopped.

The woman at the counter was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. She had long red hair and a face covered with freckles. Her skin was nowhere near as pale as his, but it still provided a beautiful contrast to her piercing blue eyes. She had soft-looking, full lips, and from what he could see, perfect teeth. With great hesitation, he supposed she would meet his standards.

She must have noticed him staring, because she spoke up, smiling. "Hi, sorry about that. How may I help you?"

Dartanion placed his two purchases on the counter, tipping his hat. "Just these, m'lady. May I also mention that you look v-very beautiful today." His voice trembled, which he knew would add to his charm. He was a sensitive man, after all, and the YouTube videos he'd watched had assured him that women loved a man who showed his emotions- even if it was nervousness.

Her expression changed into something he didn't recognize for a split-second before she smiled even wider, making Dartanion's heart leap. "Aww, thank you so much." She scanned the two items. "Would you like a bag?"

"Yes, please," he replied. With a graceful flourish of his hand, he performed a deep bow, his head practically under the counter. "You are quite welcome, m'lady. May I, uh, ask for your p-phone number as well?" The most dastardly of forces conspired together to cause his fedora, the cornerstone of his class as a gentleman, to tumble from his head and fall to the ground. He flinched hard, and quickly scooped it up from the ground. Placing it atop his head once more with enormous tenderness, he stood once again to his full height and made eye contact with the cashier for the first time in this whole encounter.

She didn't reply for a second. Had he gone too far?

Then, she gave that smile that could make plants grow once more and replied. "Sure you can."

She can tell. he thought. She can tell how nice of a guy I am.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

The beautiful woman handed him his purchases before quickly scribbling down some random seven-digit number on a sticky note. She handed it to him and winked. "Have a nice day."

"You as well, m'lady." Dartanion turned with a dramatic flourish of his black coat, as though it were a cape, and exited the 7-Eleven.

He'd done it. He'd successfully gotten the phone number of the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. His heart pounded in his chest, but perhaps that was because he knew that his countless hours watching romance anime and videos by pickup artists had finally paid off. He knew that his great courtesy and jaw-dropping intellect had led him to the woman of his dreams, and victory was oh so sweet.

As he crossed the street, he closed his eyes and breathed in a fresh air. What a truly beautiful world this was. He thought back to all the women who had asked to 'just be friends' in highschool, and now, for the first time-

SLAM!

Dartanion was hit head-on by a twelve-wheeler truck, airborne for only a few moments before being run over by three of its wheels. The impact of landing had caused his head to smack on the ground with great force. He died instantly.

His fatal mistake had been closing his eyes as he walked across the street. If they had been open, he would have noticed the truck moving at full speed toward where he was walking. For such carelessness, he had paid the price.

The small and fragile soul of Dartanion Fischer slowly floated up towards the heavens, where it would find eternal happiness. It soared above the clouds into a sea of blue, and slowly approached one of the many input channels accepting skyward souls headed to kingdom come.

God was an old man in snow white robes, thoughtfully stroking his long cloudy beard of the same color. His green eyes were narrowed with careful observance as he judged a soul before him, and he looked very wise.

"Hmmm... A very charming young man. He always stuck to his ideals, treated other people with respect, and was a devout Christian. I will allow this one to pass on.," he said, and the soul continued on to Heaven. "Next!"

The soul of a nineteen-year-old kid, Dartanion Fischer, floated before him. Though it was a pure soul, having died a virgin, he noticed many disturbing things when he examined it more closely. It was stained with the blood-red color that appears when one lives a life of sin. Sighing, he reached for the lever that would send the soul to eternal suffering in Hell. Then he noticed something even more alarming. The seven-letter word that even God himself feared. The word appeared, blurry at first, but became legible once it came into focus.

It read 'Atheist'.

With a gasp, God yanked the lever, and the soul vanished. Panting, he wiped his ancient brow in relief. Lately, their kind were too dangerous to be kept in Heaven. He would accept no more of them into his gates.

Down in hell, it didn't take long for Satan to receive the soul.

"Another reject, huh? Let's take a look." The red-skinned demon cackled. "Huh? This kid might be a sinner and a non-believer, but he definitely isn't Hell material."

The Devil groaned and picked up the phone, dialing God's number. Immediately, the old man picked up.

"Geezer. What's up with this soul you just sent me?" Lucifer demanded.

"Dartanion Fischer is a vile person, a sinner. He belongs not in heaven," God responded sagely.

"He doesn't belong here, either. He's never done much of anything bad either! Unless making people a little uncomfortable is a mortal sin these days?"

"What has he done to earn passage into Heaven? The sheer number of times he has pleasured himself alone is certainly enough to send him down to you."

"Now, now. If you actually took the time to look, he was actually a decent man. It doesn't matter that he was immature, sexist, and a pretentious asshole- I'm sure you have plenty of those behind those fancy gates of yours. You've even got atheists up there! No matter how you look at it, he isn't bad enough to go to Hell."

"Listen, son. I know you've been in a bit of a rebellious phase for the last couple hundred millenia, but that doesn't mean-"

"Oh, cut it out already," interrupted Satan. "Cut the shit. You're just trying to send this little loser down to me because you know what I have to do when they don't belong in either place."

There was a pause. "Well, either way, I'm not taking such an impure human into Heaven. That's my final decision." God hung up the phone.

The Prince of Darkness sighed. "Stubborn old man." With a wave of his clawed red hand, the small white soul before him expanded, growing into the shape of the human it once inhabited. Dartanion's consciousness surfaced, and the projection of him grew wide-eyed as it saw the behemoth that was before him. Around him stretched crimson walls of stone in every direction. Dark red liquid that he assumed was blood dripped down from enormous stalactites hanging from a ceiling hundreds of feet above him. Fires crackled all around, and faint screaming could be heard in the distance.

"Welcome, kiddo... to Hell." Satan grinned, razor-sharp teeth threatening the soul's very existence.

"Hell?!" Dartanion responded, shocked. Fear overcame him for only a split second before he regained his composure and grinned. "I see. So God was too scared to meet me, after all."

"Wha- no."

"I knew that in the slim chance he existed after all, he would be too cowardly to engage in a battle of wits with one as intelligent as myself," boasted the teenager.

"See, this is why Fate had you killed." Lucifer rolled his eyes.

Despite all his intelligence, Dartanion had no good response to that. The Devil continued his explanation.

"The reason you're down here and not up there is because you don't belong there. Though you don't belong down here in Hell either! It's funny, don't you think?"

"I find no humor in that. It only makes me feel prouder."

"I guess you wouldn't think it was very funny. You've never belonged anywhere, after all. And you convince yourself that you're better than other people to hide that fact from yourself." Satan grinned. "'Oh, look at me, I don't need friends, or a normal life. I'm just waaaay too smart to want to join those groups of imbeciles.'" he mocked.

Dartanion's heart sped up, anxious. "That's exactly right. What's so wrong about that? I am a modern-day genius, so it's only natural that simpletons do not understand me." He adjusted his fedora.

Satan threw his hands up, shrugging. "I knew that someone like you would be incapable of listening to any sort of criticism. Luckily for you, I'm not your therapist, and I don't want to talk to you any longer than I need to. I'm giving you a one-way ticket to the world of Saga, where you will enjoy precisely none of the luxuries you enjoyed during your dedacent life on Planet Earth."

"What do you mean?" Dartanion asked, suddenly even more worried.

Satan shrugged his muscular shoulders. "It's just too bad! If you had stayed down here in Hell, you'd at least get some time on the internet. We have all kinds of jobs for people like you down here. Even if you couldn't browse freely, I could have at least set you up as a member of our popup ad development team. Or maybe someone like you would have been more suited to our Twitter team- we're the ones who handle spoiling movies, you know."

"Tell me what you meant," the elegantly dressed young man asked shakily, "when you said I wouldn't get the same luxuries."

"Saga's technological advancement is... well, let's say, significantly poorer than Earth's currently is. And it's one of the newer worlds out there, so it's hardly developed. You'll live a hard life, and you won't be able to get away with slacking off." He cackled. "Who ever said I was a bad guy, anyway? Here I am, sending you to go build some character for the first time in your life. Like a father! You can call me 'daddy', if you want." He wiggled his curly eyebrows.

'You're disgusting." Dartanion snorted. "Send me somewhere else."

Satan cocked his head. "Oh? And why should I do that?"

The more gentlemanly of the two crossed his arms in complete confidence, adjusting his glasses in a flash of light. "Because, I-" His eyes widened.

"Because...?"

Dartanion realized in horror that his intellect was failing him. He did not have a witty response, for the first time in what felt like decades. "Because... well, I, uh-"

"Yeah, thought so." said the Devil, who snapped his fingers. In a puff of smoke, Dartanion was gone, surfing along the interdimensional highway to a far-off destination.