My Life As A Mercenary In A Fantasy World

"Mr. Denver, I heard you closed the Donovan account this morning."

I looked up from my laptop, fingers hovering over the keyboard. The regional manager, Mr. Caldwell, leaned casually against the glass partition of my office. His arms were crossed, and a smirk played on his face like he'd just won the lottery.

"Yes, sir," I replied, straightening in my chair. "The client seemed pleased with the terms we negotiated."

"Pleased?" Caldwell chuckled, a short, sharp sound. "Son, they didn't just sign a deal—they doubled their contract value with us. That's not just pleased; that's ecstatic."

I nodded, keeping my face neutral. Sure, it was a big win, but to me, it was just another transaction. Numbers on a screen. A slight bump in the quarterly projections. Nothing groundbreaking.

Caldwell stepped into my office, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "You've been with us, what, eight months? Most people your age are still fetching coffee or filing paperwork. Keep this up, and you'll be running the place before you're 25."

He clapped me on the shoulder, the weight of his hand lingering for a moment before he strode off. The glass door swung shut behind him with a faint hiss. Only then did I exhale, my gaze drifting to the city skyline beyond the window.

Rising through the ranks is great and all, but something's missing.

My eyes fell to the polished plaque on my desk:

[Azur Denver – Account Manager.]

The title glinted in the pale afternoon light, a silent testament to how far I'd come. Nineteen years old. Junior Account Manager. Some would call it a miracle, a stroke of luck. But if they knew what it took to get here...

It wasn't just luck. Late nights poring over textbooks, countless unpaid internships while my friends were out partying, pushing myself harder than anyone else—every step was deliberate. Every moment was earned.

Not that anyone cared about the sleepless nights or sacrifices. People only saw the results: the polished suit, the confident smile, the quick wins. What they didn't see was the constant pressure, the gnawing emptiness that came from racing a phantom opponent I couldn't name.

Shaking my head, I snapped out of the thought spiral and began packing my bag. The office was nearly empty now, the faint hum of the cleaning crew's vacuum breaking the silence. My phone lay face down on the desk, its screen dark and still. No messages. No calls.

No surprise there.

Relationships had taken a backseat to my career long ago, and the idea of going home to the same empty walls felt suffocating. Tonight, I needed something—anything—to break the monotony.

Then my phone vibrated.

Trrr... trrrr... trrrr.

The buzz jolted me, breaking the stillness. I glanced at the screen. Unknown number. Frowning, I picked it up, habit guiding my actions more than curiosity.

"This is Azur Denver. Who am I speaking with?"

A brief pause followed, the kind that stretched a second too long. Then, a voice rasped through the speaker, low and gravelly, carrying an eerie warmth.

"Good evening, Mr. Denver. This is Kalen from The Arcane Emporium."

I blinked. "The Arcane Emporium?" My mind raced. Was this a client I'd forgotten? A referral? I glanced at the skyline again as if it might jog my memory.

"Yes?" I said cautiously, my tone guarded.

"We've been watching you," Kalen continued, his voice slow and deliberate. "You've been playing the game, following the script… but what if I told you there's a way to rewrite it? To step beyond the life you're leading?"

My grip on the phone tightened. I scanned the empty office, an unexplainable unease settling over me. "I don't know who you are, but I don't have time for this—"

"Not so fast," Kalen interrupted, his voice softening but losing none of its gravity. "I'm standing in front of a door that could change everything for you, Mr. Denver. A door to a new world. You'll understand when you see it for yourself."

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone, my heart pounding in my ears. The number disappeared from the call log like it had never existed. The unease deepened, curling in my stomach. Checking the time—7:13 p.m.—I stuffed the phone in my pocket, slung my bag over my shoulder, and headed for the exit.

Outside, the city buzzed with its usual energy, but it felt distant, muted. The brisk night air bit against my skin as I pulled my coat tighter. I couldn't shake Kalen's words from my mind. A door to a new world? It sounded ridiculous.

And yet… something pulled me forward. My feet moved before I could think, guiding me toward an unfamiliar alley wedged between towering office buildings. It wasn't on my usual route, and I could've sworn it hadn't been there before.

The street narrowed as I walked, the city's noise fading with each step. Faint, flickering streetlights cast long shadows over the cracked pavement. A peculiar scent filled the air—herbs, spices, and something faintly metallic. At the alley's end stood a small shop, its presence impossibly vibrant against the drab surroundings.

1344 Birch Hollow. The Arcane Emporium.

The building was unlike anything I'd ever seen. Its intricate carvings and shimmering windows gave it an otherworldly charm, as though it had been plucked from a fantasy novel and dropped into the heart of the city.

This wasn't here yesterday. I'd bet my career on it.

The golden light spilling from the shop's windows seemed to call to me. My hand found the door handle before I even realized I'd moved. The bell above chimed as I stepped inside, the air thick with the scent of incense and something sweeter, almost intoxicating.

"Welcome, Mr. Azur Denver!" a voice rang out, cheerful yet oddly commanding. "You're our very first customer!"

Behind the counter stood a woman—or something resembling one. Golden eyes, delicate pointed ears, and a flowing white robe that shimmered faintly. She smiled, her energy as infectious as it was unsettling.

"Welcome to The Arcane Emporium," she said, her voice lilting like a melody. "Where we don't just sell items... we offer possibilities. Tell me, Mr. Denver—what are you searching for?"