My Isekai Life in Hard Mode

Garbage

Ryoshu was on the verge of shaking his head vigorously in refusal. He could feel his muscles tensing, ready to execute the motion, but somehow, inexplicably, the microphone ended up in his hand in less than the blink of an eye.

It was as if the universe had conspired against him in that fleeting moment. The cold metal of the microphone pressed into his palm, its unexpected presence grounding and alarming. The weight of it anchored him to the spot, preventing any escape.

"Yes, may I speak?" His voice echoed through the vast expanse of the auditorium, magnified by the sound system and reaching every corner of the room. The unexpected amplification startled him, and he could almost hear a collective murmur of surprise from the audience.

The sound waves bounced off the high ceilings and walls, creating an almost ethereal reverberation that made his simple question feel profound and commanding.

'Huh???' he thought, bewildered. How had this happened? One moment, he was preparing to shrink