The Art of Complaining in Another World

I. The Awakening of a Professional Complainer

Ahmed's head pounded like a cheap drum at a wedding. His mouth was dry, his limbs felt like they had been thrown into a blender, and worst of all—he was lying on dirt. Actual dirt.

"Ya Rabbi, where am I?"

He cracked his eyes open, expecting to see the fluorescent lights of the supermarket or maybe the disappointed face of the cashier staring at him for passing out at the entrance.

But no.

Instead, he was greeted by the sight of tall, twisted trees with glowing blue leaves. Strange floating stones hovered in the distance, defying gravity like they had something to prove. The air smelled different—like rain, smoke, and something weirdly... magical.

And then, there were the people.

A whole crowd of them.

A group of men and women in bizarre robes and armor stood around him, whispering in a language he didn't understand. Some of them held staffs, others had swords, and one particularly scary-looking guy had a floating book hovering in front of him.

Ahmed blinked.

Then blinked again.

Then, after a long moment of silence, he took a deep breath and said:

"WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT IS THIS?!"

The crowd flinched. The bearded man at the front took a cautious step back. The armored guy reached for his sword.

Ahmed groaned. "No, seriously. What the hell? I was just going to buy some damn chocolate, and now I wake up in a freaking Lord of the Rings fever dream?"

More whispering.

The bearded man finally spoke, his deep voice rumbling like an earthquake:

"Varan lo'thren doshka."

Ahmed squinted. "Huh?"

The man cleared his throat and repeated, "Doshka! Taren ve'lorim!"

Ahmed crossed his arms. "Oh, fantastic. Now I'm in a world where no one speaks Arabic, French, or even broken English. Just my luck."

More people started murmuring. A woman in a blue robe pointed at him, whispering urgently.

Ahmed sighed. "Look, unless one of you can suddenly speak fluent Tunisian dialect, we're gonna have a big problem."

The bearded man raised a hand. A ball of pure white light appeared in his palm.

Ahmed's eyes widened. "Wait. WAIT. HOLD ON—"

The man hurled it at him.

Ahmed did the only thing that made sense.

He dodged.

Well, actually, he tried to dodge, but his body was still weak, so what he actually did was fall over like a sack of rotten potatoes.

The glowing ball missed him and hit the tree behind him instead, blasting a huge hole through its trunk.

Silence.

Ahmed turned his head slowly. The tree creaked and then collapsed, sending up a cloud of dust.

Ahmed coughed. "Tabaraka Allah... WHAT KIND OF CRAZY PSYCHOS THROW FIREBALLS AT PEOPLE THEY JUST MET?!"

The crowd murmured louder. A few of them stepped back. Others looked at him like he was some kind of rare animal.

Ahmed narrowed his eyes. "Oh. Oh, I see how it is. You throw magic at me, but when I survive, suddenly I'm the scary one? Double standards!"

The bearded man spoke again, this time more cautiously:

"Lothren... dar'kesh?"

Ahmed put his hands on his hips. "Bro, I have no idea what you're saying. Are you trying to apologize? Because I don't accept apologies that come with fireballs."

More whispering.

The armored man suddenly unsheathed his sword.

Ahmed took a step back. "WHOA, WHOA, WHOA. LET'S CALM DOWN HERE!"

The bearded man lifted a hand, as if to stop his companion, but Ahmed was already freaking out.

His mind raced. These people were dressed like fantasy warriors, throwing actual magic around like it was nothing.

There were only two possibilities.

He was in a coma from an accident, and this was all a dream.He had actually been transported to another world, which meant—

His eyes widened.

No way.

This... this was like those Chinese isekai novels Rafik used to make fun of! The ones where some loser gets transported to a world of martial arts and becomes overpowered!

Ahmed's mind jumped to the most important detail:

"WAIT. DO I HAVE A SYSTEM?!"

The people stared at him, confused.

Ahmed clenched his fists. "Alright. If this is one of those worlds, then all I have to do is say the magic words. SYSTEM! STATUS! INVENTORY!"

Nothing happened.

"Skill Tree?"

Silence.

"Ahhh ya rebbi..." Ahmed muttered, rubbing his face. "So, I get thrown into a dangerous fantasy world, but I don't even get a stupid system?! WHAT KIND OF SCAM IS THIS?!"

The armored man suddenly lunged at him.

Ahmed's survival instincts kicked in. He rolled to the side, barely dodging the sword that smashed into the ground where he had just been standing.

"WHAT THE HELL, MAN?!"

The bearded man shouted something, but Ahmed was already running.

He had no idea where he was going. He didn't care.

All he knew was that he had just become the main character of a very bad situation.

II. The Chase of the Century

Behind him, the armored man was chasing him. Fast. Too fast.

Ahmed ran like his life depended on it—which, to be fair, it did.

His lungs burned. His legs ached. And worst of all, he still had no idea where he was going.

"This is why I don't exercise!"

A shout came from behind him. The man was catching up.

Ahmed gritted his teeth. "Fine! You wanna fight?! You think you can just bully me because I'm new here?! WELL, GUESS WHAT, BUDDY—"

His foot hit a rock.

And he tripped.

He went flying forward, his arms flailing as he tumbled down a small hill.

And then—

SPLASH!

He landed face-first in a river.

Silence.

For a long moment, he just lay there, processing his life choices.

Then, slowly, he lifted his head out of the water, spitting out a fish.

"I hate everything."

Up above, the armored man stood at the edge of the hill, staring down at him.

Ahmed sighed. "I bet Rafik is laughing at me from another universe right now."

Epilogue: A Bad Start to a New Life

Ahmed learned three important things that day:

This was NOT a dream.People in this world had magic and swords and were NOT friendly.He was completely, utterly, totally screwed.

Lying in the river, shivering, he stared at the night sky.

"Ya Allah, just let me go back home."

A moment passed.

Nothing happened.

Ahmed groaned. "Of course not. Figures."

The armored man jumped down, sword ready.

And Ahmed?

He did what he did best.

He complained.

"I DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO COME HERE!"

End of Chapter