Shin'ya lay flat on his back, staring intently at the ornate wooden ceiling of his luxury suite. The bed was incredibly comfortable—dangerously so.
He crossed his arms behind his head, his anime-nerd brain furiously running simulations on his current life-or-death predicament.
Alright, let's look at the facts, he thought, summarizing the data he had collected so far. I know for a fact that every time I sleep, I get isekaied. But what are the exact conditions? When I first took a brief nap in Yuki's world, I didn't jump. I just heard that weird voice in the white void. But later, when night fortunately or unfortunately hit, I fell asleep for real and immediately crossed over.
He rolled over, his brow furrowing.
At first glance, I thought the trigger was sleeping at night. But that was proven completely false in that drone-choked cyber dystopia, where I passed out at mid-noon and still got violently yanked to this fantasy world. Maybe there's a specific grace period? Like, if I sleep for less than an hour, do I stay in the same world? I don't want to risk testing it blindly, so...
Click
The sudden sound of the door handle turning cut off his internal monologue. Shin'ya slowly shifted his gaze toward the entrance.
The door creaked open, and a girl around his own age stepped into the room. She had striking, vibrant blonde hair, a genuinely stunning face, and was wearing a spotless, frilly maid outfit.
Shin'ya blinked, a wave of relief washing over him. He sat up on the edge of the bed and spoke before thinking. "They sent me a girl around the same age as me? Well, that will make things much better."
Hearing those exact words, the poor girl's face flushed an even deeper, violent shade of crimson. She gripped her silver tray like a shield, her legs practically shaking.
Shin'ya, completely oblivious to her internal crisis, continued calmly. "I don't ask much from you. All I want you to do is this: I'm gonna sleep, and after exactly ten minutes, you wake me up. After that, keep adding five minutes to the timer until it hits forty minutes. Also, can you sew? My clothes, as you can see, are currently a bit torn."
The absolute terror and embarrassment froze instantly on the girl's face. She stared at him, her jaw dropping.
"W-WHAT?!" she sputtered.
Shin'ya raised an eyebrow, completely bewildered by her explosive reaction. "Why are you acting like that? Also, why is your face so damn red? Did you catch a fever or something on the way up here...?"
Then, a sudden, horrifying memory flashed through Shin'ya's mind. He remembered exactly what he had said to the receptionist downstairs: 'Send me a private maid, I have some stuff to do.'
Shin'ya mentally punched himself straight in the gut, his internal voice screaming in absolute agony. YOU IDIOT! YOU COULDN'T HAVE PHRASED IT BETTER?!
Realizing the catastrophic misunderstanding, he completely broke his cool demeanor, waving his hands frantically in front of him. "OH! I'M SORRY! I didn't mean anything like that, I promise! I swear I don't! It's not what you think!"
The blonde maid blinked, processing his panicked stuttering. Slowly, the immense tension drained from her shoulders, and she let out a massive, exhausted sigh of pure relief. She placed her tray down on the side table, crossing her arms as she looked at him with a mix of pity and exasperation.
"Thank god nothing bad happened to me," she muttered, before narrowing her eyes at him. "Also... are you an idiot? Why are you torturing yourself like that? Who intentionally schedules ten-minute naps?"
Shin'ya went completely silent for a moment. He scrambled to find the right words, actively forcing himself to think before speaking this time. He couldn't exactly tell a random local maid that he was a dimension-hopping fugitive running from a cosmic curse.
"It's... you don't have to worry about it," Shin'ya muttered, clearing his throat awkwardly to change the subject. "Ahem. Anyway... may I know your name?"
The girl adjusted her apron, her cheeks still slightly pink but her demeanor much more relaxed. "My—my name is Seraphina, Sir."
"Can I call you—"
Before he could even finish his sentence, she cut him off with a small, knowing smirk. "But you can call me Sera."
Shin'ya's shoulders slumped, a comical look of disappointment crossing his face. "I was just about to ask if I could call you something like Sera. Also, stop using 'Sir.' Never use it on me. Just call me Shin'ya. But you can call me anything else if you want."
Sera tapped her chin thoughtfully, looking at the fourteen-year-old A-rank anomaly. "So... what about Shin?"
"Don't know. If you want to, then I don't mind," Shin'ya replied, shifting back onto the bed and pulling the covers up. "Ahem. Anyway, Sera, remember what I just told you?"
Sera nodded seriously, her professional maid persona locking back into place as she pulled a small sewing kit from her pocket. "Ah, yes, Shin. So take your ten-minute nap. I will wake you up right after."
"Good," Shin'ya murmured.
Closing his eyes, he let his exhausted body sink into the plush mattress. Within seconds, darkness claimed him, starting the countdown of the most dangerous ten minutes of his life.
[To Be Continued]