[Player Ian Bosworth.]

How many years has it been since then? It feels like a lifetime away.

[Player Ian Bosworth.]

Ian hummed while tilting his head in thought. As he did, a white pristine ceiling greeted his now recovered view. His gaze wandered further around him, taking in the vastness of the room in which he stood. As far as his eyes could see, he was surrounded by stainless white walls and ceilings, resting on spotless brilliant white tile floors. The room was alight with a soft glow. This state of brightness could be attributed to the walls and the ceiling– seemingly irradiating light, in the absence of an obvious source of light like a lightbulb, thus illuminating all corners of the room.

The 'room of summoning' hasn't changed one bit since the last time he was there. Admittedly though, it was impossible for the room to have changed.

How nostalgic.

[Player Ian Bosworth.]

And ahead, situated at the center of the room, on top of a rectangular altar, floating lazily above, was, for all intent and purpose, an angel. A younger him, freshly graduated out of high school, would have been wide-eyed, lost, dazed, and confused by what was happening.

Now though? He wasn't.

In fact, he was faintly amused by the frown of irritation marring her face.

[Player Ian Bosworth,] The angel's golden eyes hardened. [Is that not your name? I recommend that player Ian Bosworth start paying attention. A failure to respond when the player is being addressed can be interpreted as the latter being logically incapacitated, thus unable to understand, demanding a greater follow-up from your guide, which further delayed the process of acclimatizing the player to his new circumstances.]

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He slightly tilted his head from side to side, in a motion reminiscent of someone doing a 'so-so' gesture with his hands.

The angel further narrowed her eyes.

[Could it be that Player Ian Bosworth has trouble communicating? How strange… my earlier reading didn't reveal any potential signs of mental or physical disabilities like muteness…] She muttered in incomprehension, taking off from the altar with a long flapping of her wings.

Quickly enough, she shortened the distance separating them before stopping at less than three meters of him, her feet never having touched the floor, she hovered in place.

[Much better,] she said, slightly tilting her head. This particular gesture, combined with her stance, incidentally caused her to look down on him. [I didn't manage to understand the player's non-verbal attempt at communication just now. Please, Player Ian Bosworth, can you nod your head once if you understand me?]

Ian blinks rapidly, slowly shaking his head, an inaudible sigh of disappointment seemingly leaving his lips.

The angel furrowed her brows, her lips thinning. [Player Ian Bosworth. It's in your interest that you at least try to cooperate with me. Failure to do so will be detrimental to your chances of survival. If you do not wish to start collaborating, then so be it. I will gladly let the timer run its course and let you pass The Rite of passage without any explanations.]

Silently chuckling out in mirth at first, he suddenly, in a rather exaggerate way, started to convulse over in silent laughter.

[Wh–what's so funny?]

She recoiled, slightly disturbed by the sight of a short, lithe teen, seemingly doubling over in laughter but in what appeared more like someone silently choking on air.

His silent bout of laughter came to a steady crawl before tampering out. Releasing a couple of silent chuckles, Ian finally straightened himself out. He pointed at her, before doing a couple of hand gestures.

That brought the angel out of her consternation. [What? What does that even mean? I don't recognize the sign language being used.]

Sighing, he shook his head multiple times in exasperation while rolling his eyes at the back of his skull with his gaze being fixed on the ceiling as if saying 'What can I even do with her?'.

Her eyes twitch.

Briefly, she considered with herself if whatever punishment she incurred would be worth it– if she decide to send him earlier, without any explanation, to participate in The Tutorial.

"Alright," However, the surprise of hearing him suddenly speak managed to destabilize her long enough for her to stop considering going through it. "I was responding to your first question. My name isn't player Ian Bosworth. Is it simply Ian Bosworth. And I appreciate it if you just address me as Ian. Isn't calling me every single time by my full name exhausting? I know that you have this whole stern, unflappable thing going on. But you can at least tone it down with the player Ian Bosworth this or, player that."

[What?] She blinks, [Just What?]

Ian pursed his lips, staring at her like she was a fool.

"Do I have to repeat myself?"

[No. It was clear,] She curtly answered in a clipped tone. [So, you could, indeed, talk. I see that I've been made a fool of. I suppose even the hand signs were rubbish. Very well then. So be it. Given that Player Ian Bosworth is capable of joking around, it seems like no explanation of the situation at hand is necessary. I supposed that the player is as ready as he can be to take part in 'The Rite of Passage'.]

He certainly didn't miss the quotes in Rite of Passage.

'Is she waiting for me to ask about it?'

Of course, he knew why she would try to draw his attention to this. Every Earthlings being summoned in Concordia were more or less precious after all. Considering that a lot of them were either going to die in the Tutorial dubbed as 'Rite of Passage', or much later somewhere on Concordia– any actions allowing them to avoid an unnecessary loss of assets must be done.

Giving some pertinent advice about the current situation and explaining the Rite of Passage, its purpose, and the basic requirements needed to pass it— were one of those actions. Because, at the end of the tutorial, she was going to be evaluated on the performance of all her affiliated players.

Meaning, she couldn't easily wave her task away.

Hence, her little bluff of letting him stay in the dark about this entire situation. Hoping that in doing so, the fear of the unknown would somewhat make Ian beg or ask her about it.

Unfortunately for her, she couldn't have imagined even in her wildest dream the fact that it wasn't his first time. He already knew what was going on, and was aware of how important it was for her to info-dump him on his situation.

With that being the case then, he had to disappoint her. He was feeling petty and wasn't above taking it out on her. This, despite the fact that, in the grand scheme of things, her role in the entire charade wouldn't matter that much until a certain point. Yet, right now, right there, till reaching this point where she would become irrelevant, her role matters a damn lot.

"Of course, I don't need any explanation. I can tell what's happening here." He pompously declared.

[Oh,] The angel raises an eyebrow. [Do tell.]

He let her voice, heavily dripping with patronizing sarcasm, slide through him, "Isn't it obvious?" then pointed at her, or more precisely, at her breasts. "Scantily clad, golden-eyed, big titty blonde angel meets #depressed, #loner, #loser, teenager. That's such a famous overused isekai trope. I know where this is going."

[…]

"…"

The angel was left utterly speechless, staring at him in confused wonder.

In The silence permitting the room, you could even hear a pin dropping.

"Duh," Ian intelligently commented, cutting through the silence that had settled over. "I saw this shit happen in Rising of the Shield Hero, Arifureta, Cautious Hero, KonoSuba, and many more Isekais. Believe me, I know exactly how it's supposed to go."

[Wh–what.]

He rolled his eyes for the nth time.

"Something something a war against the Demon Race led by the resurrected(?) Demon Lord, something something saving the Kingdom or/and the Human Race. Oh! I almost forgot that slavery will definitely be a part of the story. Is the Kingdom in need of a summoned legendary hero… well… a little… racist by chance? It's always the case. Either it's against the beastkin or it's against the elves. Sometimes both. That and the King pimping his only daughter to me… or sister? Sometimes even wife… or all the above. You know, to politically bind me to him and the kingdom. Oh, also, to not give some ideas to any of his vassals or heck! Even myself."

[What are you even talking about!?]

"Really now? Granted, I'm not Japanese, a little too Westerner and dark of skin for that, but should I have acted oblivious? And said nothing? Like a dense isekai harem protagonist?" He tsked, doing his best to keep a straight face. "C'mon now, if that's what you wanted, you shouldn't have leaned so hard over this whole kuudere/robot vibe. You're begging for me to bully you."

[What.]

"Well, I already have my big titty kuudere blonde harem candidate that acts like my guide and info dump me on world problems. Nice. Really dig the tight-fitting white gown with the open slit. It nicely accentuates your squishmallows and those child-bearing hips," Ian kept ranting. Shrugging, he added. "Though I prefer it when my big titty kuudere waifu has glacial baby-blue eyes. And to be honest, the perfect asymmetrical face with the skin being as white as the purest jade, without any beamish, is kinda giving me an uncanny valley vibe… Like I'm looking at an idealized CGI picture of a woman according to some AI."

[What.] She repeated like a broken record with a profound look of disgust on her face.

Ian shivered. "Yesss! Yesss! With blue eyes, it's even better! The look of pure disgust, loathing, and aversion in your eyes… Mmh~, the gap moe is just too kawaii desu ka!"

[You are sick.]

"At least I manage to make you drop the whole player thing," He said mirthfully, startling her. "Though, am I wrong? Sure, you didn't fall for me yet, can't happen before the arc where you reevaluate your opinion of me when I heroically put my life on the line for your sake or something similar. Yet, I didn't hear you deny any of my claims."

[O–of course not! I don't even know what Player Ian Bosworth is talking about. It's not like that. What even makes the player believe that–] A pointed, skeptical look at her outfit, then at the room, was her answer.

[You know what? Don't say it! I rather prefer it when you were playing mute, go back to that.]

"Playing mute? Did you just presume that, me not speaking is because I was playing at being mute? I could have selective muteness for all you know. You're disgustingly insensitive."

"Excuse me!?" "You're excused for that," huffed Ian.

She sputtered out in disbelief, her face reddening in apoplectic rage. "YOU ARE THE ONE SAYING EXTREMELY DISPLACED THINGS ABOUT MY ATTIRE AND MYSELF! CONSTANTLY OBJECTIFYING ME! YOU'RE FUCKING HARASSING ME! YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF SHIT."

"But it can't be sexual harassment if I'm the summoned hero of an Isekai. It's flirting."

"IT'S NOT!"

"So, it's not, in fact, sexual harassment."

"W– wh… what? It is! It's sexual harassment! That's what I was saying!"

"At least I'm the summoned hero of an Isekai. That you didn't deny. I just hope that the kingdom doesn't betray me or treat me like trash because I'm into dommy mommy, ara~ara cat girls."

"You just admitted to being a sexual harasser!"

"I did not," Ian only gave her a smug smile, before continuing, "Curious… Where did the otherworldly voice go? Was it fake?" he tutted, shaking his head. "What next? Are your breasts fake too? Shame on you."

The angel recoiled, momentarily losing control of her flight, her feet meeting the cold floor.

[T-th-... th-] Her mouth moved multiple times, opening and closing, yet she was unable to string together a single corehent word.

Ding!

However, a mechanic sound, similar to the jingle music heard in train stations, resounded throughout the room, drawing her attention.

[60 seconds remaining until departure via Teleportation towards Area 4, Rite of Passage's testing ground.]

It was followed by the announcement of a robotic, synthetic-like voice.

In the corner of the room, across from Ian, a black panel, the size of a home theater projector, slid out from one of the walls. On its screen, a timer was displayed.

That managed to bring the angel out of her stupor.

With some urgency entering her voice, she started to explain. [There is not enough time, Player Ian Bosworth. It's extremely important for your survival that the player listens. You are about to be transported to the test zone. Once there, you will take part in The Rite of Passage with other participants. Your goal is to do whatever is necessary in order to survive for 33 days exactly.]

"What? No kingdom needed to be saved? No Demon Lord? No princesses? No bitches?" Exclaimed Ian in false-disappointment.

[Would it kill you to try to be serious, one second!] She snapped. [It's serious! You are going in an extremely dangerous situation. You can die.]

He raised a finger, opened his mouth, and was about to add something but decided to keep his mouth shut seeing the intense 'I dare you to try saying something' glare being directed at him.

'She wouldn't have hurled a light spear in my face, right? I wasn't that annoying, Right?'

Huffing, she continued. [There will be monsters, and other participants may potentially turn hostile. Besides that, merely surviving isn't enough. If you wish to increase your chances of survival later after the Rite of Passage, you must be active and not simply stay in safe zones while waiting for the Tutorial to finish. Based on your performance, points will be granted. You can use them later to further ease yourself in. The better the performance in general, the better your final evaluation will be, and the better your starting point is going to be.]

She exhaled, turning her head to check the timer. The black panel displaying the timer was at 23s and still ticking down. [Any questions?]

"Yes, I do have a question now that you mention it."

[Then, quickly ask your question.] She nodded.

"Angels apparently have gravity-heaven-defying boobs, get it huh? Heaven." He stressed, wiggling his eyebrows. In front of him, the angel suddenly became stone-faced.

That didn't dissuade him from continuing.

"Well, obviously you're not wearing a bra. Those tits must be supernatural if you don't need one. Your back must be made of flexible steel to support the sheer weight of those weapons of mass feeding. I was wondering if you aren't wearing any underwear even below," he raises an eyebrow. "So?"

[...]

Ian cackled. "No? Yes? You won't answer? Alright, just turn around, I shall see for myself. Personally, I bet that you're going commando."

Multiple things happen at once.

Firstly, an animalistic, ear-piercing scream of rage was heard.

Secondly, another Ding, preceding a system announcement rang out.

[Player Ian Bosworth's relocation process towards 'Area 4' testing zone, initialized.]

And lastly, Ian could feel his world going white as his vision was non-stop fizzling and flickering out of focus. His body erupted in little white mote of light.

His last vision before disappearing was of his guide, and advisor-angel, Lahel, red-faced and panting, arm extending in a throwing motion.

The light spear aimlessly soared past what used to be the place where Ian's head was before dissolving.