Chapter Text
A tape recorder clicked; a soft hiss filled the room.
Jonathan Sims—Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute—adjusted the papers in front of him with a weary sigh. Judging by the man sitting opposite him, this was going to be a very long day.
"Statement of Denji Hayakawa regarding his arriv—"
"—Isekai."
Jon blinked.
"...What?"
"Isekai," the blond man repeated helpfully, pointing at him with an easy grin. "Y'know. Truck-kun. Another world. The whole shebang."
Jon stared.
The Japanese man looked to be in his early twenties. Messy blond hair draped across his forehead, framing a pair of sharp amber-brown eyes. What caught Jon's attention most, however, were his teeth. They were pointed and shark-like which turned his lazy smile into something oddly unsettling. It was the sort of smile that made him look less like a man and more like a particularly friendly predator, maybe a dog?
Despite his unusual appearance, he was dressed in an ordinary white office shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a loose black tie hanging around his neck. One hand rested behind his head while the other lazily spun the visitor's badge.
He couldn't have looked less bothered if he tried.
Instead of sitting normally, he was sprawled across the chair opposite Jon; balancing precariously on its back two legs as though falling over simply wasn't a possibility.
Jon was becoming increasingly convinced that it very much was.
This, apparently, was the Archives' newest employee.
If he'd known complaining to Elias about being understaffed would result in this, he would have kept his mouth shut. Jon couldn't even begin to imagine what drugs Elias must have been taking to hire this punk of all people.
He let out a long, slow breath.
"For the love of God," he said, "please sit properly."
Denji rocked forward, letting the chair's front legs slam against the floor with a loud thunk.
"There."
A beat passed.
Then he started to lean back again. Jon sighed, this was probably the best he was going to get.
He glanced back at his notes.
"Statement of Denji Hayakawa regarding his arrival at an abandoned house on Hill Top Road from... another world. Audio recorded directly from the subject, 3rd of November, 2015."
"Tsk, tsk... Nope."
Jon looked up.
Denji was wagging a finger mere inches from his face, a shit-eating grin adorned his face irritating him.
Jon blinked.
"...No?"
Denji pointed dramatically at himself.
"You're supposed to say: Statement of Denji Hayakawa regarding his isekai journey — Starting Life in Another World from Zero as a Living Chainsaw!"
Denji stood up on his chair and spread his arms grandly, as though addressing a roaring crowd instead of a single exhausted archivist.
The performance was somewhat hampered by the cramped office. Bookshelves and filing cabinets squashed him in on every side, and one enthusiastic gesture sent several loose papers drifting off Jon's desk and onto the floor.
Silence followed.
The tape recorder faithfully captured every second of it.
Jon slowly pinched the bridge of his nose.
"...That title is entirely too long."
Denji remained completely undeterred.
"But it'd sell light novels."
"I don't know what those are."
Denji gasped in absolute horror.
"...You don't know what light novels are?"
"No."
"What about manga?"
"No."
"Anime?"
Jon frowned.
"I've heard of anime."
Denji leaned back with an exaggerated sigh of relief.
"Oh, thank God."
Jon resisted the urge to throw insults. Instead, he looked back down at his notes.
"Mr. Hayakawa."
"Hm?"
"I would appreciate it if you answered my questions seriously."
"I am."
Jon looked up.
"..."
"You haven't believed a word I've said since I walked through that door."
Jon raised an eyebrow.
"And who, exactly, would?"
The grin faded from Denji's face.
For the first time since entering the room, his expression became completely serious. His amber eyes met Jon's without a trace of humour.
The room fell silent.
"...Fair enough."
Jon cleared his throat, straightened the papers in front of him once more, and pressed on.
"Whenever you're ready."
…After taking a smoke break for the first time since he quit four years ago, Jon wearily returned to his office where he had called for a meeting to take place with his assistants to talk about the new hire.
Walking through the corridor, he found himself thinking back on how he got here.
The Magnus Institute was an organisation that conducted academic research into the paranormal: it was founded in 1818 and over the course of 2 centuries had accumulated thousands of cases and investigations, most of which led to dead ends and few genuine cases remain.
Jon had been working here for roughly four years now as a researcher and recently after the death of the previous Head Archivist, Gertrude Robinson, he had been promoted into the role. He was confused as to why Elias had chosen to promote him when others more qualified existed—such as Sasha James who had been working in the Archives for sometime now—but Jon wasn't going to complain.
What Jon had complained about, was how much of a mess he had found the state of the Archives in. Thousands of files, spread loosely around the place with no rhyme or reason. Most appeared to be handwritten/typewritten with few digital copies, few had labels and even fewer had labels with any sort of useful information on them.
To top it all off, the Archives itself were heavily understaffed with the only Sasha James, Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood and of course himself, Jonathan Sims. It was going to be a nightmare and so he had complained to Elias who in turn seemingly brushed off his concerns.
Now they were going to have new assistant in the man who had decided to give his statement today.
In the dimly lit room of his office, surrounded by filing cabinets, was a desk where recent blood stains stubbornly seeped into the wood despite being scrubbed repeatedly. The result of Mr. Hayakawa's sudden transformation he demonstrated mid statement.
Martin, Sasha and Tim sat around with some cups of tea, which Martin offered to Jon as he sat down as well.
"Right," Jon said as he settled down. "I imagine you all have questions."
Tim raised his hand, "Just one to start with, is the desk gonna be weird to use or–"
"Tim."
"I'm just saying."
He sighed. "Well, you have seen the security footage and have heard the statement. I want to know what we can do to investigate into his situation."
"We can start by looking into rumors and urban legends circling around Crowley, Oxford where he claimed to have arrived in this world and was homeless for a while." Sasha started.
"I could see if I can look into some police reports to see if there are any hints about this 'Section 31'?" Tim continued.
"We could interview his sister, Nayuta, as well?" Martin offered, "Searching her up on the internet shows she owns a news platform that explores various mysteries and urban legends."
They continued to talk into the evening.