Blackness enveloped him, leaving nothing to see even as he felt himself falling.

Arthur wanted to scream, cry, or flail. To perform any action that would give him some sort of sensation inside this endless void. However, no matter how hard he tried, nothing worked.

He couldn’t even tell if he had a body here. Any sort of physical sensation was gone. There was nothing around to feel, and if he did, he couldn’t move it. Even the simple act of wiggling his fingers and toes was impossible.

Did that make him nothing but a mind? Though, seeing as he remembered his death. Perhaps a soul would be a better guess?

Unable to utter a sound, he set his thoughts to screaming. At first, it was meaningless. A constant monotone deluge of anguished noise. Then, as he somehow calmed down, it took on varying pitches.

Pitches that became words.

"I don’t want this!"

There was no response to his cry, so he continued.

"Please, I hated my job. Benevolent goddess. Mother of dragons. Don’t make me do this. I don’t want to run a shop!"

Again, nothing.

He could imagine the stunning dragon staring out her window at her mound of treasure. All thoughts of the reincarnated man vanished from her mind the moment he left the room.

Arthur fell silent before deciding to try a fresh approach.

If pleading didn’t work, maybe bargaining would get him somewhere. She did claim to have trade as one of her domains.

Without knowing how long he’d fall, he tried to come up with a deal. Some kind of offer he could strike with her. Which meant figuring out what he wanted.

The first thing that came to mind was the location. He didn’t want to be stuck somewhere outdoorsy. There was no way he’d survive, plus he needed to build a store.

That would be next to impossible if she dumped him in the middle of nowhere. Unless…

His mind drifted, imagining a clearing filled with beautiful Elven women. Or maybe something more exotic?

No. No, it still wouldn’t be worth it.

He wanted a city—something urban where he could find what he needed.

At that thought, a light appeared in the darkness. It glowed gold, forming a square. A white light appeared next, ringing the border and splitting the square into fourths.

Words rapidly filled the top-right box. As he watched, more lines of text sprang into view, filling in the rest of the blanks.

Arthur stared at the boxes, now understanding one thing.

This quest was going to be more involved than he realized.

LOCATION: CITY

STORE TYPE: STALL

SPECIAL STORE POWERS: TO BE UNLOCKED

STARTING EMPLOYEES: NONE

The fact that the goddess would let him choose his starting location was a relief.

He skimmed over the text in the other boxes, at that moment wishing more than anything that he could frown.

The store-type Stall didn’t fill him with confidence. Arthur imagined fantasy marketplaces. Packed with people and thieves on every corner.

Provided the goddess reincarnated him with stock to sell, it might not be too bad.

Besides, he was already used to having to do everything on his own. Still, some hired help to start with would have been nice. In the stories he read, the displaced hero got a fairy, a princess, or even a talking cat.

However, it appeared the goddess believed he didn’t deserve one. That, or he didn’t need one.

Arthur hoped for the latter.

The fact that he could get a special power intrigued him. If he could have smiled, he would have. He envisioned balls of flame to blast monsters attacking his stall.

Perhaps another would allow him to raise them as workers. True, mindless corporate drones who never tired or complained.

That was an idea that Derrick would have salivated over.

At that thought, his amusement died. No, he decided. There would be no mind-controlled workforce under him. He’d treat anyone who worked for him with the respect he’d never received.

Maybe even create a union for them if this world didn’t have one. That might be a draw for potential employees if he ended up in a city with slaves or some other form of forced control.

Provided the ruling class didn’t kill him for giving the working class ideas.

With a flash of light, his vision narrowed as though he were being forced through a tube. His entire body felt as though it were being reconstructed. A sensation that he was sure would have hurt if he could feel anything at that moment.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

The goddess whispered message was the first thing to let him know one of his senses had returned.

"Good luck, manager."

His feet, followed swiftly by his arse, hitting the pavement was the second. Arthur cursed the fact that he could feel both blows. A quick look around told him everything he needed to know.

He was doomed.

***

The nearby box made scrambling back to his feet easier. After checking himself over, he noticed something was missing.

To his dismay, he remained mostly the same.

His skin was still pale, and he’d held onto the slightly pudgy belly and thin limbs body type that he loathed. Even his work clothes remained the same. A green button-up shirt, black pants, a worn belt, and scuffed steel-toed work boots.

He'd grabbed the last bit of apparel thanks to too many close calls with dropped items.

However, none of the previous logos were present. Instead of the 2nd Hand Treasures logo, a small, glowing rectangle was in its place. He sighed. Another decision he would need to make.

Not now, though.

That would be future Arthur’s problem.

For now, he faced bigger issues.

His second glance, to his chagrin, didn’t invalidate the first. He continued being doomed. The goddesses’ selected landing point was in a city. One that looked like someone had bombed it before fighting over the remains and leaving it to rot away.

Cracked buildings covered in graffiti surrounded him, a mismatch of destroyed structures he could only marvel at. Skyscrapers were missing chunks. Rebar and pipes stuck out of them like grasping claws.

Smaller shops sat between them, their fronts so weather-beaten it was impossible to make out their names.

Potholes filled the streets, the stink of rancid water filling his nose with each breath. No voices filled the air; the surrounding sounds were little more than soft creaks and the minute buzzing of insects.

"Well crap," Arthur said.

His distress came from seeing his ‘so-called’ stall.

It was less something one would see at a farmer’s market and more like a child’s lemonade stand. A large rectangular box sat at the front, positioned so the wooden section with the letters LID pointed towards him.

When Arthur checked inside, he found it empty.

The seat was another crate, again with a lid that revealed nothing inside. An anti-theft system? It would be hard to break into if he were sitting on it. A short walk around the front revealed a piece of cardboard that glowed the same way his shirt did.

Arthur sat on his new crate seat. It creaked but didn’t break. With a despairing sigh, he took stock of what he would start his adventure with.

A crappy stall.

No money.

No people.

No stock.

No hope.

Joy.

At that, a thought occurred.

No people.

What was stopping him from standing up and leaving?

For him to wander into the depths of the city. Leave the stall behind and seek something better for himself. Maybe find an adventure, treasure, or the reason behind the city’s destruction.

Be the hero destined to bring life back to the crumbling ruins.

Arthur was on his feet in an instant. Why not? There was no one to stop him. The goddess hadn’t spoken since wishing him luck. Which probably meant she wasn’t paying him any mind.

In the same way that Derrick did whenever he started drinking in the back office. He was free. Free to do as he wished.

With a plan in mind, he turned towards the nearby alley.

Time to go explore!

***

Arthur started loathing that laugh.

His expedition started fine. He’d walked far enough to reach a nearby dumpster. As soon as he tried walking past it, though? No, go. It was like he’d run into an invisible wall, which hurt.

That was when the giggling started.

He could just imagine that draconic goddess sitting at her desk, snickering into the back of one of her hands.

An onyx-colored pigeon landed nearby and pecked at what appeared to be thin air. Arthur cursed its timing. Though he was mollified slightly by the fact that it appeared as confused as he did.

With a quick turn of his heel, he tried the other directions. Same thing. He could cross the street, but entering any of the buildings was a no-go. The same with any nearby.

It was like someone had constructed them as set dressing. Each window was too dusty to see through, and the doors were stuck tight.

Damn, he’d been hoping to loot them for items to sell.

With those options unavailable, he made his way to the dumpster. The lid on that opened, and inside was a mound of garbage. It also stunk to high heaven, and it took him a monumental effort not to slam it shut once more and run away.

Still, he persevered in the hope that something salvageable lay inside.

Most of its contents were building supplies. Bricks and damaged pipes floated amidst rotting substances he didn’t want to know about. He took shallow breaths before he leaned over and tried to spot anything of value.

A twinkle of metal caught his eye, attached to a frayed lanyard.

Arthur grabbed it, backing away from the dumpster's smell. To his great delight, when the lid snapped shut, the stink vanished along with his view of the contents.

Before even checking what he grabbed, Arthur returned to his stall.

The glow was becoming more obvious now that night approached. He didn’t want to pick a name yet, though. It was likely he’d only get one chance, and he didn’t want to be stuck with something stupid forever because of a random whim.

He sat, ignoring the protesting box, and turned the metal over in his hand. It was a small key, akin to one he’d once kept for a lockbox. On one side, it was polished metal, yet the other bore a single word—sewers.

"A sewer key?" Arthur muttered. He’d seen no sewer entrances anywhere. None of the obvious grates in the street, anyway. He looked up at the sky, again noting the evening’s approach.

Not that late then. Provided he got a move on.

Plus, it was a sewer grate. How hard would it be to find it?

It turned out that the answer was difficult.

He’d long searched all the normal places, being careful not to run into the invisible walls. Nothing was on the street or visible in the alleyway. When the frustration mounted, he even started trying to use it on the doors. None opened.

Not that he’d expected them to.

Darkness was in full swing by the time he was ready to admit defeat. As he walked by the alleyway to return to his seat, a glow caught his eye. Similar to his sign, this one was brighter and spilled out from the bottom of the dumpster.

Arthur hurried over, ignoring any worry that something might lurk around in the abandoned buildings. With a great shove, he pushed at the dumpster, almost falling onto his face at the ease with which it rolled from its spot.

Underneath was the entrance to the sewer, with a glowing lock attached to the front. Arthur pulled the lanyard over his head and put the key in its proper place.

It turned as easily as the dumpster had moved.

With a flash of light and the sound of a firework going off, the lock vanished. The noise reverberated into the alleyway. He took no notice, happy to have the chance to do some exploring.

Be a real adventurer.

The sewer grate pulled up and slid to the side, and he stared down into the blackness.

Two glowing green eyes stared back menacingly from the depths.

Arthur screamed, and whatever it was shrieked back.

Before he could react, its fangs bared as it lunged toward his face.