You are now sitting in front of an assortment of people with technicolor hair and impossibly big proportions.

You have absolutely no idea how your life became so void of any sense and/or sanity.

Well, you are lying, of course you know how you got here, but it still is nontheless baffling.

Now, you may be wondering why the everloving fuck you are starting in media res, like a fucking moron, instead of doing it from the fucking start, like a normal person.

And the answer is pretty simple.

Everything before this wasn't really that extraordinary.

Well, you are lying again, of course there are *two teeny tiny details* that make it so.

But aside from that it was all pretty normal, well, normal as it gets.

What where we talking about? Ah yes, the technicolor people.

"Well?" Redhead says. Fuck, you need to stop spacing out.

"Uh, sorry could you repeat that? Wasn't listening." You really didn't want to sound like such a jackass and you feel like you are burying your own grave right now.

She takes this in stride though. "Could you please explain to us what are your intentions?"

Intentions? "Well, my intentions could be easily summarized as staying out of trouble."

"Staying out of trouble? Why is that?" What are you, a fucking psychologist?

"Because I don't want to get in trouble? What the fu-" Oops. "What do you want me to say?"

She is considering your words, seriously red lady with non proportionate assets, let me go.

She looks at you "Would you consider joining my peerage?" Ah, the dreaded question, what will it be what will it be

Hell no "Sorry but I'm not interested" You really try to put all the polite juices that you have left in your husk of a body into that sentence.

She looks really disappointed, almost makes you feel bad. Almost. "Well, we'll see about that." Wait what.

"What?" Fuck, said it out loud.

"I said that we will see about that, you'll learn that us devils can be very persuasive when we want." Titty Warfare™ then, fuck.

"Uh, yeah, sure." You seriously just want to get the fuck out of there. You stand up from this very comfortable chair and go towards the door, technicolor gazes still following you.

...Seriously, what the fuck is up with that, please don't hurt me.

You finally reach the doors "Goodbye." You say. You'd really like to say something else, much more colorful and with a string of very not polite words but you really want to live and not die

"See you tomorrow." Redhead says. Not if you can do anything about it. You open the (literally) godforsaken doors and step through

You close the doors.

...

FUCK.

You really, really, really, really didn't even want to talk to the fucking scooby gang, but here you are, having just finished talking to scooby doo himself, but with tits and red hair.
The first fucking objective you set upon yourself the moment you realized WHERE you really ended up was to not get involved in the shitshow.

Guess what, you just got involved and now the shitshow knows where you are and who you are, and you really don't like shows with shit, you like having your person very far from any substance related to human feces thank you very much.

You were just going to sit down and let the fireworks go, maybe with some popcorn, and let the shitshow solve itself. You were supposed to be a nobody here and that was what you wanted to be

But you just know that dream of fading into nothingness won't really happen now, the universe wouldn't be happy without giving you your daily kick in the balls, balls that don't even resemble what they once were, after all the abuse.

You start walking home at the fastest speed you can muster, which isn't very much to be truthful, while you keep thinking about how fucked you are.

Because it oh so happens that you know what the fuck is going to happen now, oh yes you know.

Introducing Teeny Tiny Detail That Makes Your Life Not Ordinary™ Número Uno: You are not from this world.

Yes, unexpected, don't fall over your seat. You know this is the most overused trope ever since the creation of Alice in motherfucking Wonderland but it's not like you even wanted to be here.

You were about to end your last year of high school, preparing for college and having an overall direction in your life

And then you wake up in MOTHERFUCKING JAPAN. You still can't get over this fucking bullshit.

Thank god you had the Japanese Language DLC Pre-Installed in your person because you really didn't want to learn this fucking language.

Then again, presumably God himself was the one who put you here, so fuck him anyway.

This whole fucking situation has to be some sort of fucking sitcom to some twisted deity who enjoys displacing stupid fucking teenagers into another dimensions.

Ah yes, dimensions, forgot to mention that this wasn't the good old Japan that all the weeaboos wet themselves over, but it was in fact an even worse version, if that's possible.

It's Technicolor-Gravity Defying Tits-Shitty Harem with a pint of Half-Assed Mythologies Japan, The DxD Japan if you will.

The fact that you even know what the fuck DxD is in the first place brings you great shame, one can never erase the weeaboo years.

Never.

You remember having watched the anime and the novels of this fucking wreck of a show. Seriously, before all of this happened you used to remember what this show used to be like, and then end up laughing at the sheer stupidity of it all.

Not laughing much now to be honest. Because one thing is laughing at this shit from the comfort of your very rational not stupid universe and the other is living in a very not rational stupid one.

You look around and notice that you are halfway to your house, at least it isn't that far away.

The house you woke up is at least serviceable, you have all the basic necessities for life in there and the house always stays reasonably clean, not because you are clean per se, but because you don't really have a way to make a mess considering you live alone as an orphan.

Oh right, in this universe you are apparently an orphan, throw the confetti guys.

You honestly don't mind it much, it would be very uncomfortable to have a pair of strangers treating you like a son, god knows that you would never even consider replacing your parents.

Your parents are the only real thing you are concerned about from your home, well, them and your brother, it really fucking bothers you thinking about how your family may have taken your ascension into weaboo heaven, all rapture like.

But aside from that you don't care much for the people you left behind.

You could say you had a group of friends but you were never that close, especially after you actively pushed them off.

So yeah, that would put you up in speed.

Oh, looks like you arrived.

You retrieve the house key from your pocket...

Uh, key, pocket.

Shit. Looks like you, in all of your autistic glory forgot the damned key.

Guess this is a good time as any to introduce the Teeny Tiny Detail That Makes Your Life Not Ordinary™ Número Dos: The Sacred Gear.

For anyone without a degree in shitty harem anime culture, this is basically a special ability one haves.

Of course not everyone has it, it would be complete chaos if it was like that, but luck was on your side this time you guess.

Or not, this could very easily be a convoluted plot with a hero's journey that will end up with you being an omnipotent god at the age of 17 with a harem of infinite dubiously legal schoolgirls.

Pfffft.

As if.

You just know that if things went your way in this shitty plane of existence you would have peacefully continued your life with the added support of a cheat.

Because it really isn't that suited for combat.

You put your hand on the doorknob and try to push the door.

Yup, pretty sturdy alright.

You activate your sacred gear and wait a few seconds, hand still on the doorknob.

Aight, I think that's it.

You try to push the door, this time successfully with little to no resistance, you hear something breaking while you do it.

You have successfully broken the lock, hooray.

It's not even the first time that's happened too, if you remember correctly this is instance number 12 of breaking the lock of your own house.

That happens in the first place thanks to your oh so trusty and wonderful Sacred Gear.

It's real name is Status Degenerator, but that's a fucking mouthful, so you decided to rename it to a band's name a la JoJo, copyright laws be damned.

It's new and very much better name is Megadeth, which makes it sound much more menacing than it really is, but you tell yourself that it is a strategic advantage on your part.

It has the power to lower the quality of anything it touches, which sounds pretty vague, so let's put some examples here.

Let's pretend that we have a rock, a big fucking rock, taller than you and thicker than you and certainly more resilient than you. Thanks to the power of Megadeth, you lower the quality of the rock; it's attributes. This makes the rock "weaker" in a sense, it makes the rock lighter and fragile, making it so you can punch the rock and make it have the resistance of a flimsy piece of paper instead of a big fucking rock, all without changing it's appearance,
making it look to any bystander like a big fucking rock.

Megadeth has also another function, that works better in other circumstances. That function makes it so that instead of lowering the quality of the internal values, it lowers the external ones. Let's say you have a photo in your hand, you could make the material of the photo even weaker, but you could also make the photo itself of a lower quality, making what could be a clear photo of a person into a shitty crusty jpeg.

Yes, Megadeth's power can basically be summarized as a shitty jpeg creator. That almost makes the fucking trip to titty land worth it.

And while this power sounds very fucking powerful in paper, in practice not so much.

Let's be clear, you love the fucking thing, but if you get into a fight with a scantily clad fallen angel you would probably lose.

While it lowers the quality of anything it touches at a great speed, and can also be used at some range with a lower speed, Megadeth doesn't turn your squishy weak fragile human body into a sturdy one.

While you may be able to lower the quality of, let's say, a spear thrown at you, the speed of the spear may be either too fast for Megadeth to take or have so many spears thrown at the same time that it makes it just impossible to survive.

While you like to think that you can hold your own in a case of sudden assassination attempt in the form of dangerous schoolgirls, you don't really have that much faith in your odds of survival.

Besides, knowing how fucking broken the main cast of this fucking anime gets later on makes it a moot point to even try to get strong.

Seriously, one could say that the fucking protagonists Sacred Gear is as close to a spit on your face as it gets, because it just keeps fucking boosting it's power, making it fucking impossible to make any kind of power degeneration to him.

In fact, isn't the fucking edgelords Sacred Gear, the one with the white hair and shit, basically mine but better?

Yeah! What bullshit! It literally makes it happen in a second and it cuts power in half AND fucking absorbs it, what a fucking joke.

Anyways, where were you?

Ah yes, house, shitshow, peaceful live over.

Fucking hell, this is going to be such bullshit, you can't wait.

When you woke up here you had apparently been enrolled into Fanservice Academy, where the female students wear corsets, cults are formed around two fucking teenagers, everyone has technicolor hair and sexual harassment is just par for the course.

You don't know who the fuck did it, but you blame God on this one.

So of course you had to go there because you don't want the nice men with guns to knock on your door, and also you needed to waste time somehow, because your house had nothing for entertainment except for a shitty laptop that can barely run Skyrim. Seriously, you had to squeeze the fucker and make him look like a fucking PS1 game, it was glorious.

And of course when you go there, you go fucking praying to the dumbass God that put you here, that please all of the technicolor hair and floating tits were just a sick dramatization from some sick author, you begged for him to grant you this small mercy.

He did not.

You have been 6 months here and it's all just so fucking weird, maybe the fact that you speak a fluent Japanese when your documents say that you are a Latin Foreigner may be part of the reason.

Honestly it wasn't all that different from home, classes were about the same thing as usual, perhaps harder, and people still did not talk to you, which was fine, you like being alone, it's easier.

What WAS different though was the assortment of the aforementioned technicolor hair, impossibly big female assets and the god damned fucking corsets everyone is wearing.

How a million fucking lawsuits haven't razed this shithole to the ground is beyond you.

And of course every single fucking time someone is talking about the "Two Ladies of Kuoh", and the fact that a fucking cult has formed in every classroom kind of scares you, that without mentioning the fact that they were devils in the first place, with one of them being the fucking sister of fucking Satan himself.

What also terrifies you is the fact that people like the...the...fuck you really don't even want to mention them and their stupid fucking name, but sadly, the fucking MC of DxD is in that group and they are an special kind of fucking annoying, the fucking annoying that makes you want to go full postal and unleash thy rage on everyone on your way.

Those fucking assholes of course are the "Perverted Trio" and they are just...fucking awful, seriously, the levels of pathetic that emanates from them is fucking disgusting, they even watch porn together and talk about it in the middle of a fucking lesson for fuck's sake. The worst part is that Mister Protagonist is arguably the ring leader of those assholes, which makes you wonder what kind of fucked up karmic system are you all in that makes people like him get a godlike powers and a fucking harem full of jailbaits.

Not that you want that shit in the first place, you are pretty happy with Megadeth, don't worry officer I don't have any kind of underage schoolgirl under my desk, I think I saw a guy over there with like 20 of them, you should go check over there.

And all of this brings us to the crux of the matter, the reason why this tale began in the first place, the reason why you started in media res instead of starting like normal, sane person, who doesn't have to deal with this shit.

You, in all of your infinite wisdom, decided that it would be a good idea to use Megadeth inside the fucking school grounds, you know, the place with all the magical wards put on to protect the fucking heiresses to the fucking Satans.

It was for a good cause, you just really wanted to save a kitten from a tree.

No, seriously, that was the reason, you saw a kitten up there crying like all hell was loose and there was no one around so you just used it.

Yeah, that's what kindness gets you, you try to save a poor little innocent animal and you somehow summon a teenage devil that really wants to fuck the savior of the kitten over by inserting him into the plot.

At least the fucking cat isn't on the tree anymore, jolly ho.

And everything else after that was already narrated by the narrator.

So now you are left with a big fucking question with capital everything.

What now?

Not going to school is just going to make Redhead fucking suspicious.

Going to school will get you on Redhead's Military Service Recruitment range and you just really don't want to deal with that.

But it really seems that you will have to deal with Redhead's bullshit if you don't want to find yourself in hell's jail, where all the people who think they are atheists and the fans of DxD find themselves in.

Terrifying.

You are mentally exhausted right now.

You do your best to put the door with broken lock on it's place and then you head to your bed to have sweet sweet dreams.

You are now lying on your bed.

...

This fucking sucks.

...

Your name is Francisco Guerrero by the way.