Chapter 2 – Meeting the Goddess

After I got back to the real world, I locked myself in my room for a solid six months.

I didn’t really recall much from that blurry half-year, but one day, I suddenly remembered exactly how much I had craved a bowl of Pho back in Averula.

So, I finally crawled out of my cave, found my mother – who was divorced by then – and asked her to go grab me a bowl.

The silky noodles, the crystal-clear broth, the melt-in-your-mouth beef… the aroma and the taste were just perfection.

I lived again.

After that, I got my life back on track. I finished high school, picked a random Linguistics major in college, and started moonlighting as a web novelist.

Fast forward to now: I’m 26, graduated with honors, and I’ve got over 300,000 followers on my novels. The pay is great, and my life is officially “freedom-flavored.”

Those memories from when I was 16 feel like some weird, distant fever dream now. Looking back, I even think to myself, “Hey, for a clueless 16-year-old kid stranded in a foreign land, I actually did pretty okay, didn’t I?”

But if you ask me if I want a do-over?

No.

Please. Hell no.

I’m still creating web novels, and yeah, a few of them are Isekai. But let’s be real: writing an Isekai is infinitely more fun than actually living one.

When I’m writing, I’m basically God. I pull all the strings. No matter how much my protagonist suffers, he’s guaranteed to pull through. He starts as a total underdog, flips the script, and basks in all the glory. Oh, and of course, he’s got a literal line of girls falling for him.

All in all, I was pretty damn satisfied with my life.

Until one day, the pattern on the back of my left hand suddenly decided to pull a glow-up.

Wait, did I forget to mention that? Yeah, the Hero’s Crest was still there, a permanent souvenir reminding me that Averula wasn’t just some fever dream. But since it just sat there like an un-erasable tattoo, I figured it has lost its effectiveness.

But now, it was glowing, then dragging me straight into a pitch-black void.

Standing there was this insanely gorgeous girl. Long golden hair, eyes as blue as the summer sky, rocking a white dress and some kind of laurel wreath on her head. She greeted me with a smile that looked like it could heal the darkest, edgiest soul on the planet.

I’ve read and written enough Isekai to know exactly what was going on. This had to be a Goddess or some divine entity along those lines.

She spoke, her voice as clear as a golden bell on a crisp morning:

“Welcome back, Chosen One.”

That line made me scowl. I actually looked over my shoulder to make sure there wasn’t someone else standing behind me.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Uh… you’ve got the wrong guy, lady.”

The golden-haired Goddess shook her head gently.

“Not at all. I remember you perfectly. You are the one I personally handpicked 10 years ago, one of the five Heroes of Averula chosen to take down the Demon King.”

I shot back:

“Then you definitely have the wrong guy. I was the sixth one.”

The Goddess froze. The divine smile on her face flickered with a hint of confusion.