《The Jinni and The Isekai》Chapter Twenty-Three—Troubles of An Isekai
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Chapter Twenty-Three—Troubles of An Isekai
One Year Ago
Stepping back out of the weapons dealer’s shop, Shiro wondered how he had forgotten to buy a new scabbard for his katana. He didn’t have a new scabbard now. None in the store would fit his blade. He went back in and had a new custom one commissioned for him, which would take a full day.
The shop owner upon laying eyes on Shiro’s sword had practically gaped at him, offered him a lot of coin as well. Because Shiro couldn’t understand a word the man said, he had continuously added small ingots of silver onto the counter, eventually also adding some gold coins.
Shaking his head fervently, he bowed to the man, who looked at him with an eyebrow raised, and he left the shop. His katana had been a personal gift. He would never sell it. Ever.
For now, like before, he held the blade in his hand, wrapped in a thick wadding of cloth to keep it concealed, but also to keep the sword safely tucked away so he wouldn’t accidentally cut off his own fingers.
The cook stalls had opened again in the morning, and fresh fruits were laid out along with the other prepared foods. There were so many varieties consisting of meats, grains, plants like the ones he had eaten on the fire-roasted stick of meat the other night, as well as these strange fruits with hard shells he had spotted in the trees. He had paid for a kind of cake made from these ground up nuts.
The flavor was somewhat similar to the coconuts from his own lands, but these were far sweater. The morning meal seemed a good one and he ate it with gusto, almost turning around to get another, but decided against it.
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I still haven’t bathed, he thought. Where do these people wash?
Shirp’s skin was sticky. He very much wished he could go to a sentō house and soak in a pool of hot water. Perhaps he needed to leave the main road and explore some back streets to find a wash house of some kind.
Unfortunately, the samurai felt mildly annoyed when he clearly wandered off into a residential area. Children played in the narrow alleys here, while their mothers washed laundry and hung them on twine to dry in the sun.
There were no demi-humans that he saw, making him wonder if there was a racial separation in Oravar.
Above, there was so much laundry in fact, the alleyways of multiple-level houses had a colorful, almost festive air that blocked out most of the hot sun.
Shiro smiled as a gentle breeze pushed past him. It felt wonderful.
The experience was not expected. I’m quite enjoying this walk.
There was a woman leaning over her stone steps, hanging a pair of trousers. He looked up at her, asked her where he might find a wash house. She spoke quickly and he had no idea what she said. But after miming the washing of his body—which was very humbling—she pointed in a general direction and he went on his way.
Eventually he did find the indicated wash house, and was—to say the least—unimpressed. The establishment consisted of raised water troughs with a thin line cut in the bottom. There was some moderate privacy, but his upper shoulders and his calves were visible outside of the wooden walls.
Shiro washed quickly, keeping his sword in the stall with him as he did so. The water was warmed, but not very hot. Perhaps this was a good thing, as the weather was dry and hot here.
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The price was cheap. At least he thought so.
Perhaps he could get a bath if he paid more at another establishment, but at least he was now clean and knew where to go if he needed to wash himself again.
His next stop was the clothing establishment. He thought maybe they had overcharged him, or the high price could have been due to the fabrics he had chosen?
In any event, he thought, I have spent another third of my money.
It was embarrassing to have a woman take his measurements, putting her hands in places Shiro was not accustomed too. In his own lands, such a thing would be almost scandalous.
For his choices, he made his decisions mostly based on a man browsing the fabrics within the shop. He kept his sandals, and chose a pair of voluminous white trousers. The material almost shimmered, and felt smoother than anything he had ever experienced. Shiro also requested a jacked which he wore under a thin shirt with a low neckline.
He felt odd and out of place in these clothes, but others were wearing much the same thing, even the women, albeit, in more feminine cuts and styles, and of course colors.
With new clothes, a place to stay and a place to wash, Shiro now needed to find a way to make some coin to support himself.
But how could he do such a thing? He spoke not a word of the language in these lands. If he became poor enough, even being a farm hand like he had been just two days earlier would be acceptable.
He had made strides to speak to the recognizable demi-human races known to his homeland of Mikuma, but so far, none of them spoke Shiro’s language.
Are my troubles the typical troubles of an isekai?
Growing up, he had heard tails of isekai, peoples taken to other continents—or in some cases, even worlds—not their own, left to their own devices to survive.
It was heartening to Shiro that he recognized certain races, such as the horned oni, multi-tailed fushi and he thought he had even seen a cat eye woman.
At least I’m somewhere on my own world, he thought. The kami guide me—I am aren’t I?
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to reach the pinnacle: Etheria
Read the tale of someone willing to do everything to reach the pinnacle within the planet of Etheria. English is not my native language. This story was made for the fun of it. So don't expect anything high quality Whenever I finish a chapter I'll just publish it.
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*Currently on hiatus* *This is a slow burn harem story. The beginning is fairly light, with suggestive content picking up in later chapters. All characters participating in explicit content are 18 years of age, or older. Said explicit content has been toned down and euphemized to meet site regulations, check this story out on other platforms for the uncut version.* An American IT with a passion for magic and fantasy died on his 39th birthday as a virgin due to a stab to the gut while protecting a coworker of his. He might as well died a 'Wizard' that needed one more year to become a 'Sage.' Then, like in recent isekais, he was reincarnated in a new world as Soar Osmis with memories of his past life intact. This new magical world of Manara is where everyone has a chance to become an aspiring Magician, be blessed with powers by forming contracts with fairies as Chaperone and Companion, and special abilities called 'gifts,' and it just so happened that Soar was given the 'Wizard' gift at birth. Thus, began the mostly slice-of-life harem isekai story of a man reincarnated in a world centering around the very thing he loved: magic, as he trained and used the knowledge from his past life to carve a path to a new one on his own terms while growing as a 'Great Sage.' Some RPG game mechanics applied with a growing OP MC with humans and demi-humans as love interests. Profanity and little gory violence is included, characters in explicit sex scenes are at and above the legal age (MC won't have such scenes until his new body is around that age). Some scenes include yuri (F X F). Updates once a week This story is also published on webnovel.com and scribblehub.com For news on this and my other stories, please follow me on twitter, @OrangeRain3477 If you'd like to give support for all of my stories and access exclusive content, please go to my subscribestar to do so. subscribestar dot adult slash orangerain
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8 193BTS IMAGINE ^-^
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