"I'm sad!" Harold Green stands on his balcony and screams into the night. "I'm very sad right now!!"
"Harold, go to fucking bed!" his wife Cynthia yells back at him.
"You don't understand my PAIN!" Harold cries. "Ten years I've been an englsih professor and not once have I had an affair with a student!"
"I want a divorce." Cynthia says, deadpan.
Harold sighs heavily as he trudges towards their bedroom. He has no idea what else to do except try to sleep off this existential crisis that keeps eating away at him. As he climbs into bed, he feels the familiar weight of his wife's body next to him, but tonight it just seems heavier than usual. Maybe she is right. Maybe he needs to move on from these depressing thoughts and focus on something more productive like work or hobbies. But then again, where would he find fulfillment in anything besides a passionate love affair with one of his students?
As he drifts off to sleep, Harold can feel himself slipping further down into despair. He knows that tomorrow will be another long day filled with lectures about Shakespearean sonnets and Victorian novels; but somehow, the idea doesn't seem quite as daunting anymore. In fact, it almost seems exciting - perhaps this is what true freedom feels like after being trapped in such a mundane existence for so long.
Harold awakens on a hard stone slab, surrounded by stained glass windows. "Finally!" says a feminine, childlike voice. "The hero has arrived!"
Harold leaps to his feet and begins screaming incoherently. "NOO! NOOO! NOT AN ISEKAI FANTASY!!! ISEKAI IS TRASH!!!"
Belorpo Bominable stands before Harold, amused at the professor's antics. He had been waiting for this moment ever since he first detected that Harold had entered Illetharia - the moment when all of his carefully laid plans would finally come together. With Lydia Everhart as a hostage, Belorpo knew that Harold would be unable to resist the temptation of saving her and thus fall into his trap they were now, face-to-face in the Dark Lord's lair.
"You are mistaken," says Belorpo calmly. "Isekai fantasy is not trash; it is simply misunderstood by those who have never experienced its true beauty."
Harold scoffs at this statement, but deep down he knows that there must be something more to this world than just mindless violence and fan service. As he gazes upon Lydia's terrified expression, he realizes that if he wants to save her, he will need to delve deeper into Illetharia's secrets - even if it means confronting his own preconceived notions about what literature should be.
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