Vape Shop Isekai: A Retail Manager’s Guide to a Stolen World

“We aren’t going to have to climb on this path, are we?” Mark worried as they descended deeper into the subterranean tunnels. “Four Strength and all.”

“You won’t be able to keep up with their drinking,” Raven shrugged, walking effortlessly in the dark.

“That’s Constitution,” Mark corrected. “I can put them down.”

“But you can’t lift them up,” Raven countered, a smirk playing on her pale lips. “Stone mugs are heavy.”

“Fuck that,” he muttered. “Then I’ll do that after the Respec Fairy.”

“What are you hoping to be?” she asked.

“I think I’m going to be a Cleric,” Mark said, hanging his head slightly. “I think I can do the most help with that. Keep the party alive.”

Raven recoiled visibly in the gloom. “Clerics aren’t always good.”

“Yeah, I get it.” They kept descending into the depths, the air growing warmer. “Alignment is everything.”

“It's horrible,” Raven said, taking the left path at a jagged fork. “People build up these gods, and the gods become powerful through manipulating people into doing their holy, bloody work for them.”

“Tell me about it.” Mark shook his head. “It’s the exact same where we’re from, except the gods aren’t actually physically real there.”

Raven paused and cocked her head, her white hair shifting. “What? Just the followers?”

“No,” Mark responded. “The structures. They’re all fake, led by groups of men with money who seek ultimate control over human freedom and expression. And they’re winning.”

“So…” Raven continued, trying to grasp the concept. “Human men rule your world by what… just telling people they’ll die if they don’t follow the rules?”

“Well.” Mark thought about the complexities of Earth. “Yes and no. Just like you have Lolth and Erythnul, we have our own pantheons as well. And just like some of your religions—ones I’m quite sure you are familiar with—use literal murder to keep compliance, the majority of ours have evolved into non-violent, economic control. Which is arguably, in our time, much more insidious than the violent forms.”

“Because it grinds you down,” Raven nodded slowly. “It makes you feel like you’re helpless and just a victim of circumstance. I know that feeling.”

“You left your world to come to mine,” Mark said softly. “Working at Pizza Hut for Craig is exactly the kind of thing that breaks humans in my world. That job can’t support a single person. If you don’t share living expenses with someone, you’re on the streets. It's a trap.”

“Well,” Raven considered as they finally stepped out of the tunnel and into a massive, breathtaking cavern. “How about we just say fuck both worlds and keep building our own at the shop?”

“That’s the plan,” he said, looking out over the sprawling, subterranean city of Rocksylvania. Massive gates of stone and iron loomed before them. “But I need to help fix things first. You seem to be tapped into the politics here. How have things changed since Craig arrived?”

“A lot.” Raven frowned. “A lot more people have jobs now. A lot more people are unhappy, and poor, and addicted. I mean, things were still bad before, but he changed the game. He industrialized the misery.”

Mark’s heart dropped hearing that the world he built was still bad pre-Craig. “Why did you choose the Brawler class?”

“I didn’t,” she said, stopping just before the large gates. “The Respec Fairy matches you with your true, core self and class. You don’t choose.”

Mark’s mind raced. Why would it not work right? If it was a forced matching system, what if it didn't give him Cleric?

Before he could ask more, the monumental stone door slid open. A single dwarf in shining, blue-hued plate mail approached, his intricately braided facial hair absolutely pristine. “State your business in the city.”

Mark started to open his mouth, but Raven took the lead. “Visiting the Amish Market.”

The dwarf’s stern eyes immediately lost their harshness. “A Drow coming to the famous Amish Market? Make sure to try the Dutch Loaf! Come on in!”

They followed him through the gate into a massive city illuminated by giant forges and roaring, molten magma falls that surrounded the rock plateau holding up the center concourse. The smell of sulfur mixed bizarrely with the scent of fresh-baked pretzels. Smiths toiled, merchants yelled, and people of all races funneled toward the rear of the city where the market was.

“Come here often?” Mark wondered.

“Since leaving Hazbruhharassin, yeah.” She snatched a giant Dwarven pickle from a barrel at a stall, dropping copper coins on the table. “This thing is fucking great. I never had anything like it before. This city is like a tiny little cultural hub. It’s no Wonderfalls, for sure, but this place could really do well in five years with the right trade routes.”

“Wonderfalls?” Mark smiled, remembering making it the most diverse, welcoming town in the game world.

“Yeah,” Raven chuckled, taking a loud bite of the pickle. “Got a Druid friend doing some interesting stuff over there.”

Raven turned well before the entry to the market, leading him down a side street lined with cute, sturdy little stone patio homes. “I got a friend back in this neighborhood. He’s kinda like the voice of the Shafted.”

Mark held a beat on that note and realized something he hadn’t before. “You really have done a lot of living since you left Hazbruhharassin, haven’t you?”

“I have,” she said simply, seemingly leaving no more room for discussion.

Mark knew that wall. He’d approached it with Sara and Simone back on Earth many times. He never quite knew what to say to comfort them, but he certainly had a long list of things he now knew not to say. “That’s admirable. I struggle a lot with… doing what I want. Actually taking action. I wish I could be more like you.”

Raven paused and turned to him. “You shouldn’t. I mean, why? Look at what you’ve achieved, Mark. You made a world. With tangible people, and lives, and lived experiences. You are that god you just mentioned. The fake one that became real.”

Mark was hit like a truck. What the fuck was he doing? Where the fuck was his life going at this point? Sure, he was a vape shop owner, and he made enough money not to suffer too much, but was he really happy? Was this what he wanted to do forever? Manage retail?

Every single piece of this game—as stupid as all the fucking dumb names were because the only human interaction he ever had was through a screen—was something he had poured his blood, sweat, and tears into. Was he going to just let Craig take it from him? Corrupt it? Hurt the people he had already made suffer? No. Fuck that.

“Raven, I need the Respec Fairy first.” Mark shook himself free of the paralyzing doubt. “I need to be the real me to face this.”

Raven considered him for a moment and shrugged. “Sure. It’s just over that way.”

She led him down another alley into a quieter neighborhood and stopped at a wooden fence. It looked just like any other fence, but Raven pushed on a specific slat, and a hidden door swung open. They stepped through into what appeared to be an empty, dusty storage shed.

Raven walked over to a heavy wooden shelf in the corner. She pulled the shelf back just an inch, reached behind it, and pulled out the ceremonial horn.

It was a giant, pink, curved dildo. The anus opened up into a flared trumpet mouthpiece. She handed it over to Mark, head first.

“Blow,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

Mark stared down at the object and sighed heavily. Why did I have to make it this? Mark raised the cock head to his mouth, inhaled deeply, and pressed his lips to the tip at the last possible moment. He blew hard. Instead of a brassy sound, a slimy, cloudy white load shot out of the trumpet end, splattering onto the stone floor.

Mark extended the horn with two fingers, handing it back to Raven, and stared down at the puddle in disgust. For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, the puddle started to bubble. And then another bubble. And two more.

After another moment, the slimy substance pulled itself together and congealed into one of Mark’s previously greatest, and now instantly worst, inventions to date.

The Cummental.

It took the shape of the Noid from the old Domino's Pizza commercials, completely and undeniably formed from swirling, viscous semen.

“Hello, Mark. I’m glad to see you could come,” the creature gurgled wetly.

Mark’s stomach churned violently. “Hello, Respec Fairy—"

“Call me Conquistador.” It blinked its milky eyes.

“Hello, Conquistador. I need to respec.”

Conquistador looked at him, circling around him slowly, leaving a slimy trail on the stone. “One time only. No takesy-backsies. All changes permanent. Proceed?”

Raven stood silently in the corner in support.

“Go,” Mark said.

He regretted it immediately as the Cum Noid lunged forward, entirely engulfing him. Mark’s stomach heaved as the freezing, sticky substance shivered around him, magically penetrating his skin, before finally dripping off into a useless puddle at his feet.

Raven lowered the dick horn to the ground, and it magically slid back inside the shelf. “Sheet!”

Character Name: Mark Class: Wizard 5 Race: Changeling Stats:Strength: 4 Dexterity: 10 Constitution: 10 Intelligence: 22 Wisdom: 8 Charisma: 22

Mark stared at the hovering parchment in utter disbelief. He shook his hands, wiping the residual slime from his robes, and called the sheet again. There was no change.

“No.” He tried again. “No, no, no. What the fucking fuck? It didn't work!”

Raven pushed the hidden door open. She stepped forward and touched Mark’s shoulder in a rare display of comfort. “Sheet!”

Suddenly, Mark’s character sheet appeared directly in Raven’s hand.

“How…” Mark stared at her.

“Damn, bro,” Raven said, scanning his stats and shaking the sheet from her hand. “Four Strength is harsh.”

“How did you do that?” Mark reached up to touch her shoulder to test the UI mechanic, but his hand was snatched hard out of the air by the Drow.

“You do it like that,” she warned, her grip like a vice. “But you don’t do it to me.”

“What?” Mark took a step back as she released him. Without another word, he reached for her shoulder again. She caught his wrist effortlessly.

“What the fuck?” Raven glared at him, throwing his hand back roughly.

He lunged a third time. This time, she caught his hand, twisted her hips, and tossed him harmlessly but firmly to the dusty ground.

He got to his feet, rubbing his four-Strength wrist. His twenty-two Intelligence raced, rapidly analyzing her flawless fighting stance. He couldn't beat her physically, and he wasn't fast enough to bypass her guard. But with his equally high Charisma, he knew exactly how to manipulate the situation.

He stared at her for a long moment, deliberately lowering his voice. “Sara will never trust you if you hide things like this.”

It worked perfectly. Her pale eyes flared with sudden, blinding emotion. She closed the distance instantly, abandoning her defensive spacing. She grabbed him by the collar with both hands, pressing him hard into the corner of the shed until they were inches apart.

“You don’t know me!” Raven snarled.

“Not yet.” Mark didn't fight her grip. Instead, exploiting her emotional tunnel vision and their extreme proximity, he simply slipped his hand casually under her raised arm and tapped the leather of her shoulder. “Sheet!”

She yanked him from the corner and threw him to the ground in a fury, but the glowing parchment had already materialized in his vision. He saw the name.

“I created you,” Mark gasped from the dirt.

She froze. She pounced, grabbing his shirt again, her stiletto suddenly in her hand. “No! I created me! You don’t know me!”

Mark raised his hands in absolute surrender. “You’re right. You’re right. You are definitely not the character I created on that paper. You are so much more.”

Raven relaxed slightly, her breathing ragged. She got off him, sheathing the blade. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Mark marveled at the woman standing before him. He was face-to-face with a character he had rolled up and discarded years ago. “You leveled. You evolved.”

“I gained free will,” she said proudly, angrily. “I fought since the day I could see to get it, and no man will put his will on me, Creator or not.”

Mark looked at Raven, finally understanding what something he created was actually capable of. “And I will never try. I’m sorry for doing it that way.”

Raven deflated, rubbing her temples. “I know. I just…”

“I won’t do it again,” Mark said, standing up and brushing the dirt from his robes. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“No,” she said quietly. “I have to tell everyone eventually. I’m just… you know my mom will target all of you if she finds out you're harboring me, right?”

“If I’ve learned anything in my life on Earth,” Mark said, looking her dead in the eyes. “It’s that community is where you’re the safest. And you are always welcome with us.”

Raven sighed, the tension finally leaving her shoulders. She looked up at him, offering a small, genuine smile. “Thanks, Mark. Now, let’s go talk to Pete Steel-Shaft.”

[SYSTEM ALERT: Encounter Cleared.]

[XP Awarded: 4,000]

[Level Up Available! Unspent Attribute Points: 4]

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