Clearly, the settlement they’d been teleported to was in some kind of desert, just flat, red plains all around. The yellowish-green huts huddled together in a maze of winding streets and narrow alleyways that would give any civil engineer a heart attack.

Surprisingly, this little town in the middle of nowhere was bustling with activity. Crowds rushed down the street, dressed from colorful to drab. Worse yet, everyone kept bumping into them.

That last part was the most surprising of all.

Now, Jimmy wasn’t the most endowed of men. He knew Rhonda faked completion more often than not and that didn’t really bother him. After all, she had such a nice personality.

However, that feeling of both knowing you are capable of completely hiding your little willy and that it's not doing a damn bit of good, is one he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. Eh, maybe Valture. Yeah, fuck that guy.

His brother stood there, soaking in the sights. The guide’s suitcase had already appeared out of thin air and he was hurriedly dressing. And Jimmy was the moron of the bunch, covering his naughty bits just like an anime heroine acting out a bathhouse scene.

It was humiliating!

No, not the sudden appearance into a crowd of strangers, butt-ass naked but the fact no one cared! What’s wrong with me? I’m pretty…right?

Apparently not. He felt like that girl the serial killer didn’t rape. Sure that girl wasn’t as stunning as her tennis-playing best friend, the one who was cowering in the corner…,but seriously? Mr. Serial Killer, you realize you’re no prize yourself, right? I mean, I got a Thighmaster. What the fuck?

None of this bothered Timmy. After the serial killer—er—the guide dressed right in the middle of town, he handed Timmy his clothes and the little guy shamelessly followed suit. Gearing up right then and there, without a care in the world. But Timmy doesn’t even play tennis…

Dejected, Jimmy grabbed his own gear from the guide. Oh no, Mr. Serial Killer. I’m bending over…uh oh…my pants are sliding back up. What? You’re not getting anything out of this. Fine. The moment’s over now. You missed your chance…or did you? Eh? Again? She’s not even that good at tennis!

As Jimmy lamented his misfortunes, the guide tapped him on the shoulder and pointed.

“Follow the morning sun. You’ll find a cliff, can’t miss it. That’s the, uh, Demon Lord’s lair,” his guide said.

“Eh? You’re not coming?” Jimmy asked.

Clasping a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, the guide shook his head. “There’s not enough sickle-bits in the entire realm to get me near that place.”

He smirked and snapped up his emptied suitcase.

“But don’t worry,” he added. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire," Timmy suddenly spoke up, attracting both their attentions.

"I'm not familiar with that phrasing," the guide said.

"Tolkien wrote it," Timmy explained.

The guide squinted, shook his head, and left.  Clearly, he was tired of them.

And with that, Jimmy and his brother were all alone in a strange settlement in the middle of some god-forsaken desert. At least, little Timmy was smiling. Fucking Thighmasters…

Straightening out his expression, Jimmy gave his best speech to date.

“Well, you heard the man, little bro,” he said. “Let’s find an inn and set out in the morning.”

Follow the morning sun? What’s he some kind of friggin’ oracle? Retard.

Timmy nodded, slung his musket over his shoulder, and nipped at Jimmy’s heels as the two explored the town. Are those huts…breathing? Dude…what did I get myself into.

**************************

Three days of ‘following the morning sun’ later, Jimmy and his brother were hunkered down behind an umbrella.

In front of them, a horde of demonic beasts trudged across the desert expanse. All Jimmy could see was a black grouping of dots, but his brother, with his advanced class, could make out the individual demons.

Currently, they were staking out the Demon Lord’s lair. It was actually quite easy to find. The guide must possess some latent potential as an oracle; good thing, too, because he was a shitty guide. What kind of a guide abandons his employers and points out a direction?

If that was all it took, Timmy could do that job, what, with his Level 8 Farsight and all.

Jimmy could see the Demon Lord’s cliff. It looked like a huge shadowed wall spanning the horizon. Not even he could miss that.

According to Timmy, an identical settlement of greenish-yellow huts were planted right in front of it, and behind those, a cave dug into the cliff. Likely, that cave was a dungeon instance that led to the Demon Lord’s throne room. No problem, Jimmy was something of an expert on dungeons.

That being said…he was completely out of his element here. His knowledge of the game ended at the border to Valrere. Here, he could only rely on his OP stats; that, and modern firearms. Praise Lord Promy for the cesspit!

The umbrella they hunkered down behind was something of a gag item, a gag item that turned out to be OP. Basically, the system gave any area covered by the umbrella Level Ten Stealth. That was full invisibility! A friggin’ invisibility umbrella!

Granted, they couldn’t move or else Stealth would be broken, but a guy didn’t need to move from the corner of a bathhouse…not that he’d know.

Um…maybe being transmigrated brought out my inner perv? Such unrestrained freedom! At least I’m not loli gagging around. So I got that going for me. Yup, I’m not a pedophile; so it’s under control.

Wait…where’s my harem!? To do: Slay Demon Lord, Fix NPC’s shitty life, invent catgirls, invent elves-wait…scratch that—invent elves then catgirls. It’s a wrap. Oh shit! I need to invent condoms. Beast girls and elves…surely it’d be like dark-web porn? I mean, it’s basically bestiality, right? One of us has to be sterile to the other, maybe—

Timmy tapped him on the shoulder, breaking him out of his random thought train. Perhaps, Jimmy had been enjoying this world a little too much. All the frustrations he’d had pent up in his previous life—the sky was literally the limit here. Despite everything the world had gifted him, Jimmy wanted more and he hated that he didn’t hate that.

For now, focus on the quest.

The horde of black dots trudged across the desert, headed to the cliffside settlement.

They were too far away for the system’s ‘identify’ feature to function, so no chance of discerning any levels, yet. Just to be on the safe side, they hid behind the umbrella. No telling how advanced their foe was.

From the primal screams echoing across the dusty hellscape, Jimmy discerned the demons were at the very least capable of communication. Likely, being this close to the Demon Lord’s castle, they were a high leveled foe, possibly elites.

If the demons they previously fought back in Valrere were anything to go by, these elites would possess extreme intelligence. Tread lightly.

Had it not been for Goti’s Umbrella, Jimmy might have called off the mission. The terrain was completely flat, like Death Valley, and lacked any cover.

Chances are, they were miles away and even that might be too close.

I’m a fucking asshole. Thinking about sex and catgirls while my brother could be in danger…dammit!

Jimmy took a deep breath and grit his teeth.

“We’ll stay here,” he instructed. “Let me know when they’re nearly out of your line of sight, then, and only then we’ll advance. Understood?”

Timmy nodded.

Jimmy pat his head watching his brother’s concentrated face. It was almost like Timmy was back in the restaurant, studying the monitor for hours, possibly even days at a time if Jimmy didn’t remind him to take a break every now and then.

Jimmy fished out a stick of rawhide and his brother clamped down on it., gnashing without losing a trace of his laser focus.

I’m counting on you, little guy. Let’s make this mission count.