Danmachi: The World's Anomaly

Mat strolled through the vibrant streets of Orario, his hands gripping a small satchel heavy with valis—the hard-earned fruits of his labor. The glow of lanterns flickered to life as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the cobblestone streets in hues of orange and gold. The city hummed with life, adventurers returning from the Dungeon exchanging tales of their exploits, and vendors eagerly hawking their wares.

In his other hand, he carried a freshly purchased bundle of food wrapped in cloth, its aroma wafting upward. He chuckled to himself as he munched on a fried skewer, the salty tang blending perfectly with the savory meat.

"Who would've thought potato chips would be such a hit?" he murmured, biting into the last of the skewer.

The memory of his busy day flashed through his mind. After arriving in Orario, he had improvised a small stall near the marketplace and started selling something simple yet unheard of in this world: potato chips. Armed with the basic knowledge of how to fry and season them, he'd made batch after batch, serving curious customers who were drawn in by the enticing aroma and crisp, golden texture.

The results had been better than expected.

"They practically bought the entire stock in under two hours…" he muttered, his lips twitching into a small smile.

The idea of introducing more simple but effective creations from Earth lingered in his mind. Not modern advancements, no; bringing in complex technology would likely paint a target on his back. But what about concepts from the 18th or 19th centuries? He could envision steam-powered contraptions, simpler tools, and unique culinary items making waves in a place like Orario.

"Could work," he mused, his thoughts trailing as he passed various stands. A vendor called out, "Fresh apples! Two for ten valis!" but Mat waved him off politely, his focus elsewhere.

The streets grew darker, and Mat realized the bustling crowds were beginning to thin. Panic nipped at his heels.

"Inns," he muttered, quickening his pace. "I need to find one before they're all full."

He scanned the signs on every building he passed. Many were already turning away travelers, their doors firmly shut, with signs reading No Vacancy. The influx of people into Orario made accommodations scarce, especially during the busy adventuring season.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mat stumbled upon a modest inn tucked into a quieter street. The warm glow from its windows was inviting, and the soft murmur of conversation drifted from inside.

"Please let this one have a room," he muttered, pushing the door open.

Inside, the innkeeper, a portly woman with a kind face, greeted him with a tired but welcoming smile.

"Looking for a room?" she asked, her hands busy wiping down the counter.

"Yes, if you have any left," Mat said, his voice tinged with urgency.

She paused, her brow furrowing as she flipped through her ledger. After a moment, she nodded. "You're in luck. One room left. Small, but it's clean. That'll be 500 valis for the night."

Mat winced slightly at the price but forced a smile. "I'll take it."

She handed him a key. "Second floor, last door on the right. Breakfast's at sunrise if you're still here."

Mat nodded his thanks and headed upstairs. His legs ached from a day of walking and standing, but relief washed over him when he opened the door to his room. It was simple—a bed with a straw mattress, a small desk, and a washbasin—but it was a refuge.

Flopping onto the bed, Mat let out a groan. "Finally," he muttered, sinking into the mattress. It was firm and slightly scratchy, but compared to sleeping on the ground, it felt like a luxury.

He stared at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. Turning onto his side, he sat up and leaned against the headboard, his brows furrowed in contemplation.

"Orario," he murmured. The very name carried weight. He knew the stories—at least the ones the anime had shown him.

"The Minotaur fight…" he murmured, sitting up. "That's still ahead, right? Bell's just started. He's still weak."

Mat's knowledge of Danmachi was limited at best. He had watched the anime but had never read the manga or light novels. There were gaps in his understanding, gaps that now filled him with unease.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'm not even a proper fan," he muttered bitterly. "Why couldn't it have been someone else? Someone who actually remembers the details?"

Frustration mounted as he thought about the events he did remember. The Dungeon, the gods and their Familias, the imminent dangers that lurked around every corner. And then there was the one thing he couldn't ignore—the growing anxiety of what he didn't know.

"I can't rely on knowledge alone," he admitted aloud, his voice echoing softly in the small room. "There's too much I don't understand. Too many risks."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. What he needed was stability. Something to ensure he wasn't constantly teetering on the edge of survival.

His mind drifted to the day's earnings. The potato chips had been a success, but selling food wasn't a guaranteed long-term solution. The market was competitive, and the crowd's tastes might shift.

"This isn't just some story anymore," he muttered. "I can't rely on what I know. Too much is missing."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His goal now was survival and stability. The valis he earned today would last a while, but it wasn't enough for long-term security.

"More chips?" he thought aloud, shaking his head. "No. The market will get bored fast. I need something else. Tools? Gadgets? Something practical but easy to make…"

His mind wandered back to Earth. As a doctor, he had developed quick thinking and resourcefulness. His part-time jobs as a high schooler had taught him other skills—basic repairs, cooking, even managing inventory.

"Those memories… they're so sharp," he realized, recalling every detail with startling clarity. "Why is it so easy to remember everything?"

The thought lingered as he leaned back against the wall, his eyes narrowing in thought. He remembered the day he died, his sacrifice, and the sense of peace that had followed. But he also remembered his frustration with the world he had left behind.

"Maybe this is my second chance," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "A chance to do something meaningful. But first… I need to survive."

His gaze drifted to the small bag of valis on the bedside table. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new opportunities, and new risks.

As he lay down, staring at the darkened ceiling, he whispered, "One step at a time. That's all I can do."

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it carried the echoes of a world filled with gods, monsters, and the unknown.

Danmachi: The world's Anomaly

Morning crept into the small room as golden light filtered through the thin curtains. Mat stirred, blinking blearily at the unfamiliar ceiling. For a moment, he forgot where he was, but reality quickly set in.

Orario. The Dungeon City. A world where gods walked among mortals and monsters lurked beneath the earth.

Mat sat up, stretching his arms above his head. His muscles ached slightly, a reminder of the long hours he spent walking the day before. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, cracking his neck.

"Alright, Mat. Time to figure things out," he muttered, pacing the room.

He mentally listed his priorities:

1. Get more money.

2. Find a stable place to live, ideally one he could also use as a shop.

3. Secure materials for crafting and other ventures.

4. Join a Familia.

The first few goals seemed achievable. He could continue selling potato chips or find other simple items to trade. But as his thoughts shifted to the latter points, he hit a wall.

Mat leaned against the small desk in his room, arms crossed. He could create items using his knowledge from Earth, innovations from the 18th or 19th centuries that were simple yet effective in this world. Basic gadgets, tools, or even just unique crafts.

But then he dismissed the idea almost immediately.

"If I introduce something too advanced or strange, it could draw unwanted attention," he muttered. "What if someone starts asking questions I can't answer? Or worse… what if I get accused of something? Suspicion could get me killed in a place like this."

The thought of being interrogated or labeled as suspicious sent a shiver down his spine. He needed something less risky.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "What else can I do that won't put a target on my back?"

After a long pause, an idea sparked. Stories.

"Of course… stories!" he said, sitting upright.

He could recreate Earth's tales. Myths, legends, and even simple fairy tales would be foreign to this world. Orario's citizens loved entertainment—plays, books, and songs were popular, especially in a city teeming with adventurers seeking reprieve from danger.

For the next hour, Mat weighed the pros and cons.

Pros:

He could write or narrate these stories without drawing too much attention to himself.

People would pay for something entertaining and different.

It could be a stepping stone to opening a shop or café, a place where adventurers could relax, read, and drink coffee or tea.

Cons:

He wasn't a great writer or storyteller, at least not back on Earth.

Some might question where he got the stories.

There was a chance someone would steal his idea or material.

Still, the pros outweighed the cons. He could start small, narrating stories for a small fee, and grow from there.

"I'll pin this as my next business venture," Mat decided with a nod. "A café that's also a small library or story corner. Coffee, tea, and tales."

But before he could dive into such ambitions, there was one glaring problem: Familia.

Mat groaned, sitting back on the bed. He couldn't avoid it forever. To truly survive and thrive in Orario, he needed a Familia. Not just for protection but also for access to the Dungeon and the benefits that came with being under a god's blessing.

The problem? He didn't know where to start.

He could approach any of the smaller, lesser-known Familia. They were often desperate for members and would likely accept him without question. But that wasn't without risks. Some Familia were shady or incompetent, and joining the wrong one could ruin him.

Alternatively, he could try to approach one of the more prominent gods. Someone trustworthy.

His mind wandered to the Hestia Familia. It would be the logical choice. Hestia was kind and welcoming, and the Familia had only one member—Bell Cranel. But Mat dismissed the idea as quickly as it came.

"I'd get dragged into Bell's shenanigans," he muttered. "I'm still weak, no experience, no knowledge about this world... heck, I don't even know 97% of the basics. I'd just be a burden."

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. The thought of exposing his origins—or worse, getting caught up in something bigger than himself—made his stomach churn.

"I'm afraid, plain and simple," he admitted aloud, his voice heavy with frustration. "Afraid of screwing up. Afraid of getting noticed for the wrong reasons."

He flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. "Why can't this be easier?"

After a few minutes of wallowing, Mat sat up and slapped his cheeks lightly. "No point complaining. I'll figure it out as I go."

He dressed quickly and left the room, locking the door behind him. His stomach growled as he made his way down the stairs and out of the inn. The streets of Orario were already alive with activity, vendors setting up their stalls and adventurers preparing for another day in the Dungeon.

Mat made a beeline for a small food stand he had passed the night before, ordering a simple breakfast of bread and stew. As he ate, he thought about his next move.

By mid-morning, Mat was back at the potato stand where he had started his small business the day before. The owner with a friendly smile, greeted him warmly.

"Back for more, eh?" the she chuckled. "You were quite the hit yesterday. Folks were asking if you'd be back."

Mat grinned sheepishly. "Guess I'll keep at it for now."

He set up his station, preparing the ingredients and tools he had borrowed. As the day wore on, customers trickled in, and Mat's spirits lifted slightly. It wasn't a glamorous life, but it was a start.

Between serving customers and managing the stand, Mat's mind wandered to the future. He still had so much to figure out, but for now, he would take things one step at a time.