Improvising Toilet Paper

Deban woke up again, feeling refreshed yet slightly restless. The windowless temple offered little stimulation, and the only source of light came from peculiar orbs hanging from the ceiling, casting a soft, comforting glow.

"Mysterious magic or just plain strangeness? I can't figure out those floating lights," Deban mused to himself, his gaze fixed on the temple's ceiling.

In the solitude of his existence, Deban had grown accustomed to conversing with himself. It had become a familiar routine, the monologues that accompanied his gathering of what he now dubbed his "wealth sea." Soon, he would gather the last of the coins and embark on his journey beyond the temple's confines.

It had been a long time since Deban had gotten transmigrated, or at least he felt like a lot of time had passed since there were no windows to tell him how many days had actually passed.

While time eluded Deban within the temple's boundaries, he measured its passage by his counting his cycles of collecting coins, getting tired, eating jerky, napping, and waking up to repeat the sequence.

Six cycles had come and gone, and although the monotony threatened to dampen his spirits, it still offered more comfort than the orphanage life of constant struggle for a mere morsel of food. Here, he indulged in an abundance of jerky and dried fruit.

But even in this realm of relative comfort, Deban had noticed his rations dwindling. He wisely began to regulate his consumption, mindful of the impending scarcity. Yet, he couldn't help but worry about the pressing matter of finding a solution for his toiletry needs.

Gurgle, blurgle.

Deban glanced around the temple, his stomach rumbling in an unfamiliar way. It wasn't hunger this time; it was an urgent call from nature, demanding attention. He had managed to ignore it during his earlier cycles, but now the situation had grown serious, threatening to release itself without his consent.

With the already stifling heat of the temple, compounded by the added pressure, Deban found himself drenched in sweat. With desperation etched on his face, he searched for a solution and spotted a corner adorned with a sizable mound of sand.

"For now, beggars can't be choosers. This will have to do," Deban muttered with a wry smile, cautiously making his way toward the mound. He shuffled and walked simultaneously, his steps deliberate to avoid any unfortunate accidents.

Quickly, Deban dug a small pit in the sand, before squatting above it to find sweet relief. However, the issue of toilet paper loomed before him.

"What kind of world is this, mysterious voice? Couldn't you at least provide a functional toilet and some toilet paper? This is truly embarrassing," Deban lamented to the empty air, his attempts to reach the enigmatic voice remaining unanswered, as always.

Left to his own devices, Deban contemplated his predicament. Water was an option for cleaning, but it seemed wasteful in the heat of the temple, not to mention the uncertainty of what awaited him beyond those walls. So, using his precious water for cleansing was out of the question.

His gaze shifted toward one of the bodies strewn across the temple floor, its tattered rags resembling his own.

"I apologize, my friend. I wouldn't resort to this if I had another choice," Deban whispered remorsefully, tearing strips of cloth from the body's robes to serve as makeshift toilet paper.

Once satisfied, he buried everything—used cloth strips and the remnants of his body's mess—under the sand, vowing to himself that he would escape this temple before having to endure such trauma again.

"I hope you averted your gaze, goddess, I wouldn't want you to see me during my lowest moments," Deban spoke to the statue, now nearly exposed with the collection of almost all the coins. He began storing the last batch of coins, his descent into madness marked by conversations held only with himself, the mysterious voice, and the statue of the goddess.

Although there were no responses, the one-sided dialogue sufficed, at least for now. How much longer he could endure in this place remained uncertain, but one thing was clear: Deban refused to leave until he had amassed every last coin, down to the tiniest speck of gold dust.

His time within the temple hadn't been solely devoted to amassing the gold coins beside the goddess. Deban had rummaged through the bodies scattered across the temple floor, gathering anything of value—additional water pouches, and even smaller rations scattered alongside the bodies all over the hall.

One body, adorned in authoritative attire, yielded more than just provisions. Deban discovered other small metal coins, possibly made of copper and silver, along with a few ornate notes that appeared to be a form of currency. Uncertain of their significance, he stored them away in his subspace, anticipating their potential usefulness.

The deceased man also had a few rings on his fingers and a necklace, but Deban showed no mercy, claiming anything not directly attached to the bodies as his own.

"Hoo hoo! You no longer have use for these, so thank you for the donation," Deban chuckled mischievously, securing the valuables looted from the bodies. He even exchanged his own clothing for cleaner, more comfortable robes, stashing a few larger garments in his subspace for future wardrobe changes.

The final items he pocketed were the weapons—small daggers and swords he found near the bodies farthest from the altar.

"They must have been the guards, fleeing from whatever was chasing them," Deban pondered, retracing the path of bodies that led to a staircase ascending upward. He decided to climb the staircase to see if it led to an exit from the temple.

As he continued his ascent, Deban encountered thick patches of sand that had engulfed large portions of the staircase. Tenaciously, he pushed through until he reached the top, where a small wheel attached to the wall caught his attention. Trap doors loomed above, accompanied by a ladder leading to them.

Deban surmised that the wheel likely operated a mechanism to open the doors. He struggled to turn the wheel, which groaned under his efforts. But weariness settled in, exacerbated by the fatigue caused by the number of the items he had stored in his subspace during the recent cycle. Rest, replenishment, and the clearing of the remaining gold coins were necessary before he could finally depart from the temple.

Retracing his steps to his customary resting spot, Deban conjured jerky from his subspace.

With practice, storing and retrieving food had become second nature to him. It also ensured his safety should he need to abandon the temple in a hurry.

Satisfied by a decent meal and some water, Deban reclined, knowing this would be his final slumber within the temple's walls.

------

Upon awakening, Deban embraced a newfound determination. He hurried toward the sea—now diminished to a mere handful of coins—and climbed into the container as he had done countless times before, collecting the last remnants of his wealth.

Once the final coins were stored away, Deban cast a final gaze upon the temple ruins. His eyes lingered on the statues, each depicting the goddess in various poses. He glanced at the bodies he had carefully piled in a corner, a sign of respect or, perhaps, guilt after ransacking their possessions.

Lastly, Deban directed his attention to the empty altar and the goddess behind it. Retrieving a single coin from his storage space, he reverently placed it upon the altar. Bowing his head, he whispered a prayer of sorts.

"Goddess, though you may not hear me, I cherished our time together. You nourished me, bestowed free wealth, and were the first beautiful face I beheld upon awakening in this realm." Deban's voice quivered with emotion, and a single fake tear slid down his cheek.

"But all good things must come to an end," he continued. "It's not you, it's me. Hopefully, no hard feelings between us."

With no prior experience in romantic relationships, Deban was ill-equipped to handle a breakup or even comprehend whatever the heck he just did. Nonetheless, he completed his peculiar farewell and turned his back, making his way toward the stairs, fully aware that leaving the temple marked the true beginning of his adventure in this new world.

Unbeknownst to Deban, the massive goddess statue's eyes emitted a radiant rainbow light, within which slithered a snake resembling the one coiled around his wrist. As he walked away, the coin he had placed on the altar mysteriously vanished.

Oblivious to these mystical occurrences, Deban continued his ascent, his focus solely fixated on the opening of the trapdoors and the adventure that awaited him beyond them.