Daily Life of The Inventor In Anime World

"Gah!?"

I hastily opened my eyes, looking around in confusion. My vision was blurry, but I could tell I was inside a building. The familiar scent of oil, metal, and rubber filled the air, triggering a wave of nostalgia.

Blinking a few more times, I managed to steady myself and take in my surroundings. I froze, wide-eyed.

"Isn't this… Dad's garage?"

The racks of tools, the neatly arranged boxes full of screws in all shapes and sizes—it was unmistakable.

And there it was, taking up most of the space in the garage: the totaled BMW M3. The very car my dad had bought for me for pennies while he was drunk.

Yeah… if you want something from your parents, always ask them when they're drunk.

I remember that day vividly. Dad had been drinking with my uncle in the countryside when we came across this beautiful wreck—a brand-new but thoroughly totaled BMW M3 destined for the junkyard. At the time, I was head over heels for anything mechanical, and I begged him to buy it. Drunk as he was, he caved, and I got my first car for next to nothing.

The thing is, I'd already fixed that car. It should've been fully restored, tuned up, and parked in the garage of my LA mansion by now.

So why the hell was it here?

And… why are my hands so small?

"Oh shit… my voice… why do I sound like a kid!?"

Panic hit me like a freight train. I rushed over to the car's door, using the side mirror to take a good look at myself.

"Oh god! I'm back to my boy-self? Wait! This doesn't make any sense!"

My brain scrambled for an explanation, piecing together the last thing I could remember.

The last thing I'd been working on was a sustainable energy source for my house. I'd gotten tired of paying exorbitant electric bills and decided to build a reactor using some experimental data.

"Right… that white burst of energy… I should've done that in a proper research lab instead of my garage," I muttered, trying to recall the events more clearly.

I'd miscalculated the energy output. Apparently, my house couldn't handle it, and… well, it went boom.

"But this still doesn't make sense! That energy should've vaporized me. There was no quantum physics involved—unless the sheer amount of energy somehow messed with it…"

My thoughts trailed off as I remembered something else—a figure dressed in white. Who—or what—was that?

Still, if I was really back in my younger body… the possibilities were endless.

I nearly started salivating at the thought of all the things I could do—so many opportunities to invent, to profit, to tinker…

"Marcus! You up? What did I tell you about sleeping in the garage!?"

'Oh crap. And here comes the downside of being a kid again.'

"Sorry, Mom! I got carried away!" I shouted back, already preparing my secret weapon: the puppy-eyes technique.

Mom walked into the garage, her arms crossed and her gaze scrutinizing me like I was under a microscope.

"I know you're gifted when it comes to machines, son, but you can't spend the entire night in the garage! What if you catch a cold?"

"Sorry…" I mumbled, giving her my best apologetic look.

"Go take a shower. You reek of oil!" she ordered, motioning toward the house.

Sheesh… as if she'd never seen a guy working his craft.

But then it hit me.

All my stuff—everything I'd built, all the companies I'd worked with, the patents, the projects—they were gone.

"Marcus, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Mom asked, her tone suddenly concerned.

'Deep breath. It's only Tesla, Microsoft, Lexus, and all the Italian supercar companies… nothing major! I can always buy them back!'

"Nothing… I think some dust got in my eyes," I lied, quickly rushing into the house.

Upstairs, I took an icy cold shower, letting the freezing water snap me back to reality. I couldn't afford to cry like a baby every time I thought about what I'd lost.

And so, my trip to the past—or whatever this was—began.

My name is Marcus Goldman, a guy who spent most of his life tinkering in a garage and getting rich off it.

It all started when Dad first took me to his garage. I fell in love with the place instantly, and from that moment on, I practically lived there, building and tinkering until I eventually surpassed his skills.

Working from home turned out to be incredibly lucrative. From wood to metal, and then to high-tech engineering, I climbed the ladder until… well, let's just say building a self-sustaining reactor in your basement garage is a pretty high level.

Explosions aside.

But now? Things felt… different. I mean, sure, I'd been called a once-in-a-lifetime genius, but even I found it strange how easily everything came to me now. It was like second nature.

After the shower, I went back to the garage and stared at my first car—the BMW M3.

I couldn't resist. I grabbed my tools and got to work, fixing it up with whatever I could find in the garage.

But as I worked, I started noticing things. I didn't just remember this car—I knew it inside and out. I even found ways to improve its design beyond anything I'd done before.

That's when it hit me.

This wasn't my past. At least, not entirely.

The dates didn't match. I remember getting this car in 2004, but here I was in 2003.

And some of the companies I'd worked with or invested in didn't even exist.

An alternate reality, maybe? Like one of those light novels I used to read in my free time?

Regardless, it didn't change much. After double-checking the tech level of this world…

Well, let's just say I cried again.

But I wasn't going to waste this chance. My first priority was to tackle the basics: smartphones, touchscreens, fiber optics, and everything else on my ever-growing list of revolutionary ideas.

This was going to be fun.

---

I started crying when I saw the fat, boxy TV that could barely display 480p.

I'd never worked on these before, considering them the basics of basics. By the time I moved on from machinery to technology, everyone already had smartphones and fast internet. Improving on those things was never necessary—they were already there. Instead, I focused my time on app development and systems design.

But now, staring at this ancient monstrosity of a television, I realized I needed to rethink my approach. It was like knowing how to build skyscrapers but having no idea how to lay the foundation.

In other words, I had to go back to the basics.

Just as I was adjusting to this overwhelming revelation, something happened that changed my perception of the world entirely.

"It's totally… not strange when a posh white book with golden lettering appears on my desk first thing in the morning," I muttered, deadpan, as I stared at the mysterious object.

At this point, I wasn't even surprised anymore. Supernatural things existing? Sure, why not. My crafting and creation skills were already borderline supernatural, and the fact that I was inhabiting my younger self's body in an alternate reality was a pretty strong clue that the rules of reality here weren't exactly ordinary.

Still, this book felt like the cherry on top of the weirdness sundae.

I approached cautiously, keeping my distance at first as I inspected the cover.

"The… Magic Arts of Solomon the Great," I read aloud, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay… this is out of context. Why Solomon? I mean, I'd have preferred something like Tony Stark's journal or even Reed Richards' notes. But… magic? Really?"

Curiosity got the better of me, though. Slowly, I reached out to touch it.

The moment my fingers brushed the surface, searing pain shot through my entire body.

"ARGH!" I gasped sharply, clutching my hand as the sensation spread like wildfire, flooding every nerve.

It felt like my insides were being fried alive. I nearly collapsed right there. But just as suddenly as the pain began, it stopped.

Gone, as if it had never been there.

What's more, I could now feel the book. I instinctively knew where it was, like it was tethered to me somehow.

I hesitated but tested a thought.

Flash!

With a golden burst of light, the book reappeared in my hands.

"Right… totally magical, then," I muttered, trying to stay calm despite the surrealness of it all.

If it was really magical, then it deserved my attention. I flipped open the first page, and the grandiose tone hit me immediately.

"This book was written by the Great Solomon, ruler of the greatest kingdom mankind has ever seen. Known as the King of Magic, I am the one who dared to defy Lucifer himself and emerged victorious, claiming 72 devils as my own!"

The introduction made me pause.

"Wait… this is that Solomon? The guy with the 72 demons, the harem, and all that jazz? And Lucifer is real?"

This was getting serious.

I glanced nervously at my garage. "Yeah, I'm going to need to fortify this place. Fast."

I returned to the book.

"To those reading this, my greatest secrets are now yours. But know this: a true mage must first build their magic reserves. Human magic typically requires intricate calculations, but I, Solomon, have bypassed this limitation with my ten rings. With these, I cast magic as easily as any devil or angel."

"Angels, too? Great, just assume all myths are real. Less room for surprises…" I muttered, flipping to the section on how to build magical reserves.

The book described several meditative techniques for building magic reserves, each more ridiculous than the last. One method involved staring at a candle for hours.

"Yeah, no thanks."

I opted for the simplest one: mental imaging and controlled breathing. Something I could do while resting.

As I skimmed further, I found a note about humans being physically fragile. The book recommended two solutions: crafting magical armor or reinforcing your body with magic.

"If I can do both, why not?" I thought aloud. The idea of crafting enchanted items intrigued me, especially since I had some metallurgy experience from creating custom car parts. Magical weaponsmithing might be worth looking into.

But then, the text shifted to something even more extraordinary:

"And now, the pinnacle of my magic: summoning and binding devils permanently to your will! Devils, beings of sin, appear human but are anything but. They possess bat-like wings and wield magic powered by imagination. Each devil is unique, their power tied to the pillar they descend from."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "This sounds a lot like that anime I used to watch as a teen. What was it called? Something about a high school? I just remember the cool armor…"

Turning the page, I found detailed summoning circles. Just seeing them gave me chills.

"With the power of Ars Goetia, designed by Solomon himself and blessed by the Big G, these devils will bow to your command!"

"Right. So God is real, too," I muttered, feeling a cold sweat trickle down my back.

The world was officially insane.

With all this new knowledge, my to-do list had just expanded.

First, I needed to master magic basics and start meditation exercises. Next, I'd figure out how to reinforce my body with magic. After that, crafting enchanted items and weapons was a must.

And eventually…

Well, I wouldn't say no to summoning a devil or two.

"This is going to be one hell of a ride," I whispered, a grin slowly spreading across my face.