Evan Brooks felt the ground under him before he opened his eyes. It was rough soil mixed with cold morning dew and it smelled like a field that had never seen a paved road. Birds chirped in a way he had only heard in documentaries. When he finally forced his eyes open the sky above him was bright and too clean almost like a painted backdrop. He sat up and the first thing he noticed was the absence of anything familiar no cars no buildings no phone buzzing in his pocket. His suit was still on him wrinkled from the unexpected nap that was not a nap at all.

He stood up and looked around. A dirt road stretched into a distant town with stone walls and wooden roofs. People in robes carried baskets. A man led a horse pulling a cart. This was not cosplay. This was not a themed festival. Evan had worked in corporate intelligence for a decade. His brain was built for noticing inconsistencies and this place had none. It was too real.

He walked slowly toward the town. His head throbbed with questions but panic never came. Analysts did not panic. They categorized. They observed. They gathered data. He passed by a small stand where a woman sold bread. She greeted him with a friendly smile and a phrase he did not understand. Yet somehow he understood it anyway. Whatever force brought him here had fixed the language gap.

When he stepped inside the stone gate of the town the noise caught him off guard. Merchants shouted about herbs and ores. Adventurers argued about dungeon routes. A man in a heavy robe talked loudly about his new fire enchantments. Another complained an enemy guild had stolen his trade plan again. The words hit Evan like a joke that was not funny.

People talked about stealing confidential plans in the middle of a crowded street. Out loud. With no shame and no fear. Evan almost laughed. This looked like a fantasy world but the business behavior was something he would have fired an entire department for.

As he walked deeper into the markets he saw a group of men in blue vests handing out flyers. He took one. It listed the secret rights and trade ambitions of the Eastwind Spice Guild. It even mentioned the names of key suppliers and which caravans they wanted to sabotage. It read like a confidential deck you would never leak unless you wanted to be sued into dust.

He rubbed his forehead. Either he was dreaming or this world was the birthplace of commercial incompetence.

A man with a waxed mustache approached him. He looked around thirty wearing a sharp robe that was meant to be formal but looked like it came from a bargain rack. He looked at Evan with curiosity.

You new here he asked. You look like someone who might have skills. The merchants around here could use some skill. Our guild keeps losing deals because the others keep stealing our plans. It is unfair. It is maddening. If only we knew what they were planning.

Evan blinked. This man had done the equivalent of walking up to a consultant and saying Hello I need competitive intelligence but I do not know what intelligence is.

What do you mean by stealing your plans Evan asked.

The man sighed. We write our deal strategies on scrolls. We hide them in our meeting room. And yet the other guilds always know our moves. They must be using terrifying espionage magic. I cannot imagine how they do it.

Evan pictured a world where people left strategic documents lying around with no locks no guards and maybe a big neon sign that said Secret Plan Here. He exhaled slowly.

What if someone helped you protect your information Evan asked. Maybe help you understand your competitors.

The mans eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. You can do that You can read opponents without using magic You could save us millions of gold

Millions of what Evan thought but decided not to ask.

The man grabbed him by the sleeve. I am Lenar from the Silver Quill Merchant Guild. Come with me. If you can help us we will pay you more gold than you can carry.

As Lenar rushed him through the streets Evan could not shake the feeling that he had just arrived in a world begging for someone like him. A world with markets ripe for optimization with zero competition and where even basic intelligence principles would look like dark sorcery.

He smiled for the first time since waking up. If this world wanted a commercial savior he could become one. If this world needed espionage he could build it. If these guilds kept acting like amateurs he could reshape their entire economy.

This was a blank slate. A wild market. A frontier of information.

This was the world where Evan Brooks would build the first real intelligence network in magical history.

And he was going to dominate.