Isekai Mahou wa Okureteru! (WN)

Fight at the Reception Desk

Bathed in murderous stares, Suimei found himself in an awkward situation.

The formerly warm receptionist now glared at him coldly while the burly man before him was so angered that his body shook uncontrollably.

The other members of the guild staff, seemingly personally offended, gathered 'round. A dense, threatening pressure enveloped Suimei, this visitor from another world.

Uwaaa, this looks bad...

Suimei groaned inwardly. His choice of clothing had been a terrible blunder. If he were to be scolded for his actions just now, then he'd have to accept it. After all, this was an organization of people who earned their daily bread with their blades; that someone dressed as he was sought to join their ranks was indeed ludicrous. Not only did he look completely normal, but his clothing did as well. No matter what aspect of his appearance you evaluated, you would only see someone without the slightest experience in combat. Adding his smaller Asian physique on top of all of that, and it was only natural that others would see him as nothing more than a delusional child who didn't know his own limits.

However, in the world he'd come from – assuming an organization like the guild existed there – even his current appearance wouldn't have created the predicament he now found himself in. In a world that was home to countless techniques, skills, and weapons; even if you were small of stature, even if you looked completely ordinary, even if you were but a child or one of the elderly, there was always the possibly you were hiding something incredibly dangerous. Firearms, other weapons, martial arts, magic even – when it came to dangerous things, they were without number.

Although it must be said that a sturdy physique and a ferocious appearance was an advantage of a kind, but it was hardly a decisive factor when it came to real combat, and judging an enemy by their appearance had led many a combatant to their deaths. This was doubly true when magicians – infinitely more terrifying than their opponents, who, outwardly, appeared the more dangerous – were taken into consideration. Compared with such things, the power of one's magic or the trump cards one held were far more important.

Suimei had made his decisions while unconsciously adhering to his own world's standards, acting in concert with what, to him, was only "common sense." This had become a blind spot.

However, there was no reason for people of this world to act this way, and so the oversight this time was entirely Suimei's fault. That notwithstanding, he wasn't going to allow a mistake as small as this to keep him from joining the guild. Registering as a member here was something that had to happen. Moreover, he still had to look for somewhere to stay; he couldn't afford to waste any more time here.

He couldn't just buy a sword and return, though; his appearance had already been seared into their memories by this terrible first impression. Changing his clothes now wouldn't change a thing. They'd just kick him out once more.

As Suimei thought hard, looking for a way out of the current situation, the man's eyes narrowed angrily, and he spoke.

"...Hey, punk. You seem pretty sure of yourself, right?"

"You could say that. I did say earlier that If I wasn't sure of myself, I wouldn't have come here in the first place."

"Is that so. Alright then, let's see what you've got..." the man growled menacingly, as he reached for the sword on his back.

Panicking, the receptionist rushed to stop him.

"W-wait! No matter what he's done, this is still..."

"It should be fine. That guy seems to be getting serious himself."

"B-but guild regulations strictly forbid acts of violence against a normal person!"