Danmachi: The World's Anomaly

The smell of sizzling oil and freshly cooked potatoes wafted through the air as Mat worked diligently at the stand. The morning rush had passed, leaving a steady trickle of customers. Between serving, Mat often exchanged casual words with the owner, the potato stand lady who seemed to enjoy chatting just as much as selling food.

"So, Mat," the owner began, leaning on the counter during a lull in customers, "you're a clever one, coming up with this potato chip idea. Where'd you learn to make something like that?"

Mat paused, carefully choosing his words. "Ah, just something I picked up a long time ago. Tried it out once, and people seemed to like it."

The owner chuckled. "Well, it's a hit, that's for sure. A shame I didn't think of it first, eh?"

Mat smiled, steering the conversation away from himself. He often received curious questions from the owner or customers, especially when they asked about his past. Each time, he provided vague answers, keeping details about his previous life on Earth hidden. It wasn't that he didn't trust them—he simply couldn't risk it.

Later in the day, as Mat was frying another batch of chips, the owner's eyes lit up. "Ah! Hestia! Over here!"

Mat turned his head, curious. At first, he didn't register the name, but when he followed the owner's gaze, his heart nearly stopped.

Coming toward them was her—Hestia.

The blue ribbons that famously defied gravity, the twin black ponytails, the petite figure, and the unmistakable energy. It was the real, living embodiment of the goddess he had only ever seen in anime.

Hestia… Mat's mind raced. He had expected this meeting at some point, knowing Orario's small size and her connection to the timeline. But seeing her in person? That was something else entirely.

She wasn't just a drawing or a character anymore—she was alive, vibrant, and real. But what surprised him most wasn't her appearance. It was her demeanor. She looked… tired. Her boundless energy remained, but there was a weight to her eyes, a hint of strain that the anime never captured.

Hestia hurried up to the stand, waving cheerfully. "Oh, Griselda! You called for me?"

"That I did," the owner replied with a grin. "Got someone here I'd like you to meet." She turned to Mat. "This here's Hestia. She helps out at the stand sometimes when she's got free time."

Mat swallowed hard, steadying himself. He wiped his hands on a cloth and turned to face her. "Pleasure to meet you, Lady Hestia. I'm Mat."

Hestia tilted her head, studying him for a moment. Then, her lips curled into a bright smile. "Nice to meet you too, Mat!" she said, her voice lively. "No need to call me 'Lady.' Just Hestia is fine!"

Mat nodded respectfully, trying to hide the turmoil inside him. He was speaking to a god. Not just any god, but Hestia, one of the most pivotal figures in Danmachi.

Hestia tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at him curiously. "You seem a bit… nervous. Everything okay?"

Mat flinched internally but forced a casual smile. "Ah, it's nothing. Just… wasn't expecting to meet someone like you today."

She blinked, then laughed, brushing it off. "Well, I do have that effect on people!"

Mat chuckled awkwardly and quickly busied himself with the fryer, hoping to calm his nerves.

Hestia soon got to work, helping the owner set up more ingredients. Despite her earlier weariness, she was enthusiastic and lively, chatting with both the owner and Mat as they worked.

"You know," she said at one point, turning to Mat, "you're pretty quiet for someone working in a busy market. Most folks here love to talk."

"I suppose I'm more of a listener," Mat replied with a small smile.

"Well, that's not a bad thing," Hestia said brightly. "Every good group needs someone who listens."

As the conversation continued, Hestia's attention drifted to a basket of freshly cooked potato chips. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"What's this?" she asked, picking one up.

The owner - Griselda chuckled. "That's Mat's doing. He came up with the idea. Been selling like hotcakes ever since."

Hestia popped the chip into her mouth, and her expression lit up. "This is amazing! It's crispy, salty, and so addictive!"

Mat couldn't help but smile at her reaction. "Glad you like it."

"Like it? I love it!" Hestia exclaimed. She turned to him eagerly. "How do you make these? Can you show me?"

Mat hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Sure. It's not too complicated."

He walked her through the process step by step, explaining how to slice the potatoes thinly, fry them at the right temperature, and season them for the best flavor. Hestia listened intently, asking questions and occasionally trying her hand at the tasks.

"You've got a real knack for this, Mat," she said, grinning. "Maybe you should open your own place someday!"

Mat paused, her words striking a chord. "That's… actually the plan," he admitted.

"Really?" Hestia's eyes sparkled with excitement. "That's great! Let me know when you do—I'll be your first customer!"

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and for the first time that day, Mat felt a genuine sense of confidence. Perhaps things were starting to fall into place.

As the day wore on, Mat grew more comfortable around Hestia. She was kind, cheerful, and surprisingly down-to-earth for a god. Though the weight of her divine presence never fully left his mind, he found himself enjoying her company.

By the time they wrapped up for the day, Mat felt a strange sense of accomplishment. He still had a long way to go—plans to make, hurdles to overcome—but for now, he allowed himself to appreciate the small victories.

As he walked back to his inn that evening, he couldn't help but think about Hestia's earlier words.

"Don't worry Hestia" He sighs and looks up "I'll get my own place someday," he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe I really can make it here."

As Mat walked through the bustling evening stalls, he soaked in the lively atmosphere. The warm glow of lanterns illuminated the streets, while vendors shouted, hawking their goods to passing customers.

His stomach growled. He stopped by a stall selling grilled meat skewers. The scent of seasoned meat sizzling over hot coals made his mouth water.

"One skewer, please," he said to the vendor, a burly man with a cheerful smile.

"Coming right up!" The vendor handed over a freshly grilled skewer. "You new around here, lad?"

Mat nodded, taking a bite. The savory, smoky flavor made him hum in appreciation. "Yeah, just getting used to the city. Thanks for the food."

"Enjoy it, kid. Orario's full of surprises," the vendor said with a chuckle as Mat walked off.

When Mat arrived at the inn, he greeted the person at the counter, a middle-aged man with a grumpy expression.

"Welcome back," the man said curtly.

"Thanks," Mat replied with a polite nod. He climbed the creaky wooden stairs to his room, the day's events replaying in his mind.

After unlocking the door, he stepped inside and closed it behind him, securing the lock. The small room was simple—just a bed, a wooden chair, and a desk. Mat plopped onto the floor beside the bed, leaning his back against it.

His thoughts wandered to the idea of having some kind of cheat ability. After all, wasn't that how it always went in isekai stories? The main character gets thrown into a new world and discovers some overpowered skill or item.

"Alright, let's figure this out," Mat said aloud, his excitement growing.

He stood up and stretched his arms, preparing himself like an athlete before a big game.

Mat started with the classics. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and concentrated. He imagined himself summoning a status screen, like in many of the anime he used to watch.

"Status!" he shouted, his voice echoing slightly in the small room.

Nothing.

"Hmm… maybe I need to try a different approach."

He switched tactics, trying different commands: "Open system!" "Show stats!" "Cheat menu activate!"

Still, nothing happened.

Mat wasn't discouraged yet. He got on his knees, clasped his hands together like he was praying, and muttered, "Oh, great powers of this world, grant me your blessings!"

Nothing.

He stood back up, his brows furrowed in frustration. "Okay, maybe it's a posture thing."

Mat proceeded to try a variety of ridiculous poses: standing on one leg, arms stretched out like wings, even doing a handstand against the wall. Each attempt was accompanied by a chant or command.

"Activate skills!"

"Cheat mode, ON!"

"System reboot!"

His voice grew louder with each failed attempt, his frustration mounting. At one point, he was lying flat on the floor, arms spread out, shouting, "Status window, I COMMAND YOU TO APPEAR!"

Downstairs, the inn's other residents began to notice the commotion.

"What's going on up there?" one guest whispered to another.

"Sounds like someone's crying out," said a young woman.

"No, no," an older man chimed in, shaking his head. "That's the sound of heartbreak. Someone probably got dumped."

A third guest, a burly adventurer, crossed his arms. "Dumped? Nah, sounds like someone's gone completely mad."

The whispers grew louder as more guests speculated. The innkeeper, overhearing the gossip, frowned.

"Who's causing this racket now?" he grumbled, wiping his hands on a towel. He paused, listening carefully to the muffled shouting from above. Recognition dawned on his face.

"That idiot!"

Veins bulging, the innkeeper stomped upstairs, his boots thudding loudly against the wooden steps.

Mat was mid-pose, arms extended dramatically, when a thunderous BANG shook the door.

"MAT!" the innkeeper roared, his voice loud enough to rattle the walls. "WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?! DO YOU WANT ME TO KICK YOU OUT?!"

Mat froze, his heart leaping into his throat. Scrambling to the door, he pressed his ear against it.

"S-Sorry!" he called out hastily. "I was just… uh… practicing something!"

"Practicing?! Practicing what? Summoning demons?!" the innkeeper bellowed. "Keep it down or you're out on the street, you hear me?!"

"Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!" Mat replied, his voice trembling.

The innkeeper grumbled something unintelligible and stomped back downstairs.

Mat let out a long sigh, his forehead resting against the door. He could hear faint whispers from the other guests below, clearly still speculating about the noise.

Dejected, Mat slumped back onto the floor. He stared at the ceiling, the excitement he had felt earlier now replaced by bitter disappointment.

"No cheat skills. No hidden powers. Nothing," he muttered to himself.

He let out a groan, throwing an arm over his eyes. "What kind of isekai protagonist am I supposed to be?!"

The reality of his situation began to sink in. Unlike the characters from his favorite shows, he had no grand abilities to rely on. If he wanted to survive in this world, he would have to do it the hard way.

Tired and disheartened, Mat climbed onto his bed. The mattress creaked under his weight as he flopped onto his back, staring at the cracks in the wooden ceiling.

"Guess I'll just have to figure something else out," he muttered.

His thoughts wandered to the people he had met so far: the potato stand owner, the cheerful customers, and even Hestia. There was still a lot he didn't understand about this world, but maybe… just maybe… he could carve out a place for himself here.

As exhaustion took over, Mat closed his eyes. His mind, still swirling with thoughts of plans and possibilities, finally quieted, and he drifted off into a restless sleep.