I start checking the rest of the cards .
Marge Simpson necklace
Angry birds stuffed toys
Naruto uzamaki headband
Endurance
Demon Perfume
Kong axe
Blue Potion x10
Spider man tshirt
Murata-tou hsotd
Kimihito Kurusu
Necklaces? Useless. Same with the toys and that headband.
The Endurance from Interstellar, though that's something I'll test it when I'm return.
The perfume from Welcome to Demon School? Kind of cool. It can change my scent to something non-human. Might come in handy.
The axe? Sure, if I could grow big enough to wield it.
Potions from Overlord—now we're talking. Useful, though I was hoping for an Ainz template. Even getting Albedo or Narberal for summons would've been great.
But a T-shirt? Seriously? Just give me the template already. Still, it reminded me I need to check which Peter Parker exists in this world.
Next up is the Gunto saya father gave to saeko, my luck hasn't turned around much.
And then there's the final card—a character card.
At first, I thought the system finally listened to me. But when I saw the character, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or curse.
It's that guy. The protagonist from Monster Musume. Yeah, the one constantly surrounded by monster girls. Lamias, harpies, all that chaos.
Guess I won't always pull something useful from this system.
I shook it off and moved to the next thing, the Roberta card.
Why summon her? Simple. To change her.
Her perspective, her abilities—whatever it takes.
I've got five months. That's enough time to train both her and myself. Plus, the new gacha function means I can take her with me or leave her behind when I return, depending on what happens.
I activated the card. Summon .
[Do you want to use the background customization card?]
For now, I selected No.
A figure began to form. One second, there was nothing, and then—bam—she was standing right in front of me. It happened so fast I barely had time to process it.
Roberta. Dark purple hair, loose this time. Her sharp blue eyes scanned the room like she was sizing it up, covering up whatever initial shock she had.
At least she was dressed—though her clothes were rough. Torn-up jeans and a bullet-riddled shirt.
What timeline did she come from?
Her eyes landed on me. She didn't make a move, just stared, body tense like she was ready to spring into action if needed.
"Are you the one I'll be working for?" she asked, her voice calm, but her posture screamed "fight mode."
I kept my tone steady. "What's the last thing you remember?"
Her gaze sharpened, trying to figure me out. After a pause, she said, "I was ambushed, and I..." She trailed off, her voice shaky for just a second.
I leaned forward. "Did you die?" No sugarcoating.
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw her try to stay in control. But the way her jaw tightened, how her hands clenched—it was clear my guess hit home.
Yeah, I nailed it.
She explained her situation, piece by piece.
Apparently, this Roberta didn't work as a maid—or at least not this version of her. This one was different from the anime. She'd been in a deadly ambush, and in her final moments, she felt... something.
"A chance," she said, her voice quieter now.
She instinctively knew what it was,an offer to work for someone in another world.
Without hesitation, she accepted. And the next second? She was here.
Does that mean the gacha can interfere with someone's fate? This Roberta was supposed to either die or maybe survive on her own terms. But the gacha swooped in and rewrote her future.
At least now I know that the characters don't always come from their original universes.
Maybe the gacha had access to multiple versions of Roberta, but this one chose to come here.
Interesting.
Roberta's POV
I should be dead.
After leaving FARC, I was hunted nonstop.
A bounty was placed on my head.
Taking the name "Roberta," I fled to Italy and tried to start over.
For two years, I worked in a small restaurant. A quiet life. A new beginning.
I even let myself believe no one would find me.
I was wrong.
The cartel found me.
If I'd been ready, I might've escaped. But they came prepared, and I wasn't.
I managed to take out 20 of them.
But in the end, it wasn't enough.
As I lay dying, everything slowed. That's when I felt it—a strange sensation.
An opportunity.
A chance to live again, but at a cost.
To become someone's servant.
I wanted to believe I was hallucinating.
But deep down, I knew I wasn't.
It was a gamble. I had no idea what I was stepping into. No details, no clue who I'd serve.
But what other choice did I have?
What's worse than death? Plenty. I've seen it—people begging for death to end their misery.
Still, I didn't have a choice.
So, I took it.
And in the next second, I was here.
The first thing I noticed was the absence of pain. My clothes still had bullet holes, still had blood on them—but no wounds, no agony.
I took a look around. This place wasn't normal. No electricity. Old bed. Cracked walls. It looked like the set of a period movie or something.
I also felt cold, the chill seeping into the room.
I glanced out the window and saw snow blanketing the ground outside.
Where am I?
Then my eyes settled on him.
The man I was bound to serve.
I felt it instantly, like some invisible thread tying me to him.
White hair brushed his shoulders, his frame muscular and jacked.
Top-tier.
But it wasn't just his looks. His whole presence screamed "danger."
If I tried to fight him, I could already tell—I'd lose.