Prologue

In the pitch-black alley, a figure slowly picked himself up.

He felt the pain all over his body, and the chill in the air.

He couldn't help shivering, and could only hug himself with his arms.

Trying to give himself some warmth, he felt his hands touch.

They were both ice-cold.

"Where am I?"

Unfortunately,

It was the dead of night, and he was in a secluded alley. No one was around to answer him.

Driven by the instinctive will to survive, he forced his frail body to slowly stand.

Staggering a little, he made his way toward the alley's exit.

In the darkness, he headed toward the only source of light, where a somewhat livelier stone-paved street lay.

He called it somewhat livelier because, as far as the eye could see, there wasn't a soul around. Only a few streetlamps swayed and flickered.

"So, I'm a beggar now?"

The one muttering to himself received no answer.

It was as if the situation spoke for itself.

He'd gone from an ordinary life to waking up as a beggar.

"Falan. That's my name now."

To Falan, everything around him was unbelievable.

At the same time, he found it utterly impossible to accept.

After all, he'd been nothing more than an ordinary wage earner.

Yet overnight, he'd become a beggar in another world.

It was a Western fantasy world, with elves, beastmen, adventurers, and all that.

Taking the surroundings into account, his original name would have felt out of place.

So he'd given himself a name like Falan.

A beggar's life was harsh, and Falan understood why he'd woken up in a dead-end alley.

There wasn't much wind there, making it a rare and precious shelter for someone without a home.

"Money, money, money. No matter which world you're in, you can't get by without it."

For Falan, money was what he needed most right now.

But as a newcomer from out of town, he couldn't very well go looking for a place to work.

So he could only start by begging, gathering the information he needed along the way.

For example, the city he was in was called Orario, and its currency was called Valis.

And the world had a huge gap between the classes. Even some random adventurer was far stronger than an ordinary person.

Besides that, there seemed to be gods in this world, and therefore something called Familias.

"Of course, before I worry about getting stronger, I need to figure out how to survive."

Could he keep making money by begging? It wasn't impossible. After all, he was still adapting to his surroundings, and he'd already been a beggar for two or three days.

But if he could,

"Finding a steady job would be best."

Having made up his mind, Falan approached a place he'd been keeping an eye on these past few days.

It was an old-fashioned shop. Over the past few days, he'd seen plenty of people coming and going.

They were clearly short-handed. That gave him a chance—a chance to find work.

As night fell, the customers filed out, drunk, and headed home.

Falan made up his mind and slowly approached the shop, then gently pushed open the door.

As soon as the door opened, Falan felt the warmth inside.

The gentle lamplight seemed to point the way to his future. He looked at the middle-aged man slowly raising his head.

Falan spoke softly. "Excuse me, are you hiring?"

The bartender furrowed his brow and said irritably, "No. You do realize this is a tavern, right?"

A tavern? He understood. No wonder they didn't have many people working here. Bartending required a lot of expertise.

And that was even more true in another world, unlike modern society, where it was easy to find out about all kinds of things.

In this world, bartending was, in a way, a specialized skill monopolized by a certain group of people.

"..." Falan opened his mouth, but didn't say anything more. He turned and left.

After all, he didn't know how to mix drinks. And this was a Western fantasy world, to boot.

Bartending in this world was probably more complicated and varied than in the modern world.

He continued along the way, stopping at several shops he'd picked out to ask around. In the end, Falan finally got the result he'd worked so hard for these past few days.

It came in the form of a single sentence from a shopkeeper.

"I happen to be short-handed. You... don't have a place to stay, do you? Since that's the case, there's a storage room in the attic. Go clean it up yourself, and start work tomorrow at six in the morning."

The result was in.

He started work tomorrow at six.

Falan was quite satisfied to have finally found a job in another world that would let him make a living.