Permission to Travel: ACQUIRED
Connection Between Dimensions: SUCCESS
Power Comparison with Visitor's Level of Power: ERROR – DIFFERENCE TOO HIGH
Requesting to Adjust Power to Safe Levels: REQUEST ACCEPTED
Adjusting Power to Safe Levels: SUCCESS
Over-Armor Efficiency Percentage: 100%
Link Between Origin and Destination for Return: CREATED
Transportation Progress: COMPLETED
Thank you for supporting Overpower Industries.
In a secluded clearing encircled by a barrier of ancient trees, a circular blue portal materialized. Its radiant glow cut through the early morning mist. A moment later, an unassuming man stepped through, looking as if he was in his early twenties. His tousled blond hair peeked out from beneath a black leather jacket, complemented by a white shirt, black jeans, sandals, and sunglasses.
As the portal closed behind him, sealing away the last vestiges of his previous dimension, he took a moment to survey his new surroundings. The morning sun bathed the clearing in a golden light. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and the melodic chirping of birds provided a serene soundtrack. Distant buildings were partially obscured by the treetops, adding a touch of urban contrast to the natural beauty around him.
This is a pretty fresh sight. Unfortunately, I don't have time to revel in it. I've got a job to do. Show the armor skin menu, please.
A light-blue holographic screen materialized before him, showcasing his current outfit with various customization options. Without hesitation, he selected the "-PRESETS-" option. The selection glowed light green, and an expanded menu of choices appeared. His eyes quickly found what he was looking for:
'-TEACHER_SKIN_PRESET-'
He paused briefly until a confirmation pop-up appeared:
ARE YOU SURE?
-YES- or -NO-
Focusing on '-YES-', the confirmation pop-up vanished, triggering an almost magical transformation. His clothes began to dissolve, the black fabric melting into a swirling, silver liquid that moved with surreal, almost mesmerizing fluidity. It undulated over his body, engulfing him like waves of mercury. His black jeans gradually shifted, the liquid spreading and changing them into light gray khakis with graceful, shimmering ripples. His white shirt morphed seamlessly, the silver liquid crawling over the fabric like tiny metallic snakes, until it transformed into a soft blue dress shirt. The shade was soothing yet commanding.
The black sandals on his feet liquefied. The silver substance enveloped his toes and reshaped into sleek black shoes. Their polished surfaces gleamed under the light. His black sunglasses became a pool of molten silver, flowing over his eyes and solidifying into rimless reading glasses that added an air of sophisticated intelligence.
The grand finale was his leather jacket. The silver liquid absorbed it entirely, slithering over his shoulders and chest, merging into the fabric of his dress shirt. In an instant, the jacket was gone, leaving no trace behind, as if it had never existed.
As the transformation completed, he stood there, a metamorphosis encapsulated in mere moments. The entire process was like an artist painstakingly repainting a masterpiece, the minute details of his new appearance emerging with impeccable precision.
Once the process ended, he took a moment to inspect himself, ensuring everything was in order. His fingers ran over the smooth fabric of his new attire, checking the fit and appearance. His reflection showcased a transformation both elegant and refined, perfectly executed and ready for his new role. He was no longer the man in black; he had become someone entirely different, a sophisticated version of his former self, ready to blend into his new environment with ease and confidence.
There we go. It used to feel weird the first couple of times, but now, it's almost second nature. 'Over-Armor' might be one of the dumbest names ever—'Over-Metal,' what this armor is made of, being a close second—but the quality is undeniable. Although... show mirror screen, please.
Instantly, a digital mirror appeared, reflecting his current appearance. He examined his reflection with a critical eye, assessing every detail.
Not bad, not what I would normally choose, but it's workable. I just need to fix this messy hair. First impressions are crucial; the organization put effort into securing this teaching job for me. Sure, they won't fire me over messy hair, but it certainly won't help. Hairbrush, please.
Raising his right hand, silvery liquid oozed from his dress shirt, forming a black hairbrush in his palm. He quickly styled his hair into a long, round, layered cut. Once satisfied, the hairbrush dissolved back into liquid and was reabsorbed by his shirt.
Alright, that should be good enough...
His enthusiasm briefly waned as he recalled the gravity of his mission. He sighed deeply, fatigue lining his face.
I know a job is a job, but seriously, why did he choose me of all people?
Magical Girl Shiny Star
From the digital briefing I skimmed (before I stopped out of sheer cringe), it's a manga about a group of high school girls who use magic powered by 'Friendship' and 'Love' to fight evil forces that threaten their world.
As he walked through the clearing towards the distant buildings, he continued reflecting on the nature of his mission.
My job is to guide this story along its intended path—rather, MY intended path—while keeping my true identity hidden, since technically, I'm not supposed to be here. Fortunately, the organization arranged a disguise for me as a teacher at the same school as the girls, along with a place to stay, making this far more manageable.
Stepping out of the tree line and onto a sidewalk, he could see the business-oriented buildings more clearly now.
Of course, it shouldn't be too difficult. After all, I wouldn't be called Life if handling something like this was too hard. Even if I'm not familiar with this kind of world, it probably won't take long.
With renewed resolve, he continued his journey, blending seamlessly into the morning hustle and bustle, ready to alter the fabric of this seemingly innocent world.