《Game at the End of the World》 1.1 [The Last Game at the End of The World] At the end of the day, after grinding through another forgettable work, North had a strange hobby¡ªtorturing NPCs and players just for fun. It wasn¡¯t a job. It wasn¡¯t a side hustle. It wasn¡¯t even something he did for recognition. It was just something that made him laugh after a long, boring day. Some people relaxed with TV. Others played normal games. North? He turned his private Fantasy Simulator server into a madhouse of suffering, tweaking its broken rules to trap, confuse, and destroy anything inside. NPCs flailed against illogical mechanics. Players cursed, screamed, and rage-quit. And North? He laughed. The glow of three monitors flickered against the walls of his cluttered apartment. A half-empty energy drink sat next to his keyboard, condensation pooling on the desk. The room smelled faintly of instant noodles and overworked electronics. North stretched his fingers and cracked his knuckles. Then, with a satisfied and happy smile, he booted up his masterpiece.
?[WELCOME TO FANTASY SIMULATOR]? [Server: Peace is A LIE #431] [Administrator: North]
The world loaded¡ªnot just any world, but the most hellishly broken power simulator ever devised. A world where he had twisted the game¡¯s logic to the breaking point, where NPCs developed existential crises, and where players suffered purely for his amusement. A chuckle rumbled in his throat. "Let''s see what we''ve got today." A mountain monastery was burning to the ground. A peerless Jade Beauty was escaping her 112th forced marriage attempt. A town¡¯s entire population was locked in an endless philosophical debate with a daoist of unknown origin about whether rocks had souls, unable to function. And above all of this, North sat like a god, adjusting the settings, pushing reality to its limits.
A sky split in half. Lightning crackled as two supreme Visionaries floated in mid-air, their robes billowing dramatically, their eyes burning with heaven shaking rage. Beneath them, an entire mortal empire cowered, watching in horror as the very laws of reality threatened to collapse. And all over¡­ A single piece of long forgone Inheritance. "Xu Ling!" roared Grand Elder Tianbao, his voice shaking the heavens. "Hand over the Blood Ancestor Inheritance, and I shall grant you a swift death!" His opponent, Sect Master Xu Ling, clutched the glowing blood crystal in his palm, eyes blazing with madness. "Fool! If you were worthy, the inheritance would have chosen you! Prepare to die!" The air trembled as both unleashed divine techniques at once. The long lost blood inheritance, meanwhile, remained completely untouched, floating in Xu Ling¡¯s grasp. North leaned forward, sipping his drink. The chances of getting a genuine blood inheritance was one in thousands, he had programmed it such and most of these inheritrices'' were fake and spread about by a con Visionary to earn money and level up his art. But, the players didn¡¯t know that. And the NPC logic? It had decided that this blood inheritance was real and the most valuable object in existence. Below, a mortal farmer clutched his wife in terror. "First it was the Great War of the Heaven-Going Blind¡­ then the Tragedy of the Divine Egg¡­ and now¡ªnow it¡¯s fucking inheritance?!" he sobbed. "Why is life like this?!" His wife had already passed out from spiritual pressure, mumbling about how she should have married that mortal accountant instead, living next door.
[System Message: The Heavenly Blood Inheritance has revealed itself and War has escalated. All Middle Plains major sects now declare war.]
North grinned. "That should keep them occupied for the next hundred or so in-game years."
With a click, he switched to Player #827198''s perspective. The poor bastard was named ''xXDragonLordXx.'' And he was surrounded. Not by monsters. Not by enemies. By plotlines. A hundred sect leaders, divine beings, mysterious masked figures, and childhood friends all stood in a circle around him, each demanding his attention. "xXDragonLord420Xx," boomed Sect Leader Bai, "you are the lost heir to our sacred legacy!" "Nonsense!" shouted the Demon Lord. "He is MY reincarnated son! He shall lead my armies!" "Impossible, he''s clearly MY long-lost son''s teacher''s..." xXDragonLordXx took one step back. His hands trembled over his keyboard. [Player Chat] xXDragonLordXx: "WTF IS THIS? WHY DO I HAVE 52 QUEST MARKERS?!" North chuckled and typed a single command.
[System Message: Player has awakened the "Dao of Bullsh*t." All words spoken now become self-fulfilling prophecies.]
xXDragonLordXx panicked. "I¡­ I just want to be left alone!" he shouted out loud.
[System Message: Confirmed. Player has awakened the "Dao of Loneliness." From this moment, all allies and loved ones will tragically die or abandon him.]
The Jade Beauties gasped¡ªthen turned and ran. His sect immediately disowned him. The Demon Lord sighed. "A shame. I wanted a son, but it seems you are destined to be alone forever." xXDragonLordXx collapsed to his knees. [Player Chat] xXDragonLordXx: "WHAT KIND OF BULSHIT ASS PERSON IS RUNNING THIS SERVER."The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. North wiped away a tear of laughter. "Oh, man. I love this game."
With a click, he swapped to another scene¡ªinside the great city of Golden Sunspire, a level 1 player was desperately trying to assassinate an old man in a famous inn. But, this was no ordinary NPC. It was Old Man Wei, the one and only secret Quest Giver in the world. The poor player, a fresh-faced rogue, had mistakenly thought Old Man Wei was just another generic old man. He had no idea that North had given this quest giver NPCs absolute immortality to prevent young masters speedrunning exploits. The rogue stabbed the old man in the chest. Nothing happened. He tried again. Critical hit. Again, no damage. Old Man Wei sighed. "Young master, which clan are you from? Are you perhaps lost? I need help with something. If you help me I''ll offer you good reward." The player went berserk, spamming abilities, throwing grenades, even attempting to glitch the game by wedging the NPC into a wall. Nothing. Then, North¡¯s custom failsafe was triggered. "If a player attacks a Quest NPC for more than 30 seconds¡­" Suddenly, a bolt of thunder flashed across the sky before smacking down upon the angry player. The rogue instantly exploded into loot. A system message popped up:
[System Warning: You have been eliminated by Quest Master Wei. Your account is now flagged for review.]
North cackled as the rogue rage-typed in global chat. [Player "DeathReaper69"]: WTF!!! THIS SIMULATOR IS RIGGED
The scene opened in the Celestial Peak Sect, where Young Master Lin was pursuing what appeared to be the most stunning jade beauty he''d ever encountered. Her skin was like jade, her eyes like autumn waters, her figure so perfect it could topple nations¡ªeverything a proper cultivation novel demanded. "Fair maiden," Young Master Lin called out, frantically chasing after her floating silk robes. "Please, wait! I must know your name!" The jade beauty paused, holding a delicate sleeve to her lips as she giggled musically.
[System Notice: Player LegendaryChad89 has activated "Pursuit of Beauty" quest line]
Young Master Lin finally caught up, dropping to one knee. "I am Chen Tianxing of the Divine Sun Peak! Your beauty has captured my heart, and I¡ª" The jade beauty turned around fully. "Oh my," said a distinctly masculine voice. "Another one?" Young Master Chen''s eyes bulged. The perfect jade beauty still stood there, but now he could also see... a muscular brother with a magnificent sword between his legs. Both images overlapped, creating a reality-breaking paradox.
[System Notice: Player LegendaryChad89''s "Dao Heart" has received critical damage]
"I am Big Sword Wang, senior brother of the Long Iron Peak," the jade beauty-but-also-not said cheerfully. "I''ve been trying to tell everyone, but people keep throwing engagement rings at me and challenging each other to duels over my hand in marriage." Young Master Chen''s world shattered. "But... but the delicate fragrances! The floating silks! The devastating beauty!" "Oh, that?" Big Sword Wang flexed, his massive biceps somehow creating the same ethereal sparkles usually reserved for jade beauties. "Side effects from my failed attempt at the ''Yin & Yang Purity Body Refinement Technique.'' Now everyone either sees me as the most beautiful woman or the most handsome man. Sometimes both. It''s been really awkward at sect meetings." In the distance, another young master spotted them and immediately began racing over, love-struck. "Not again," Brother Big Sword Wang sighed, his perfect jade beauty form and masculinity still flickering back and forth. "Look, if you''re going to have a cultivation deviation over this, could you do it quietly? I have forty-seven marriage proposals to reject by sunset." Young Master Chen had already collapsed, his worldview in shambles.
[System Notice: Player LegendaryChad89 has gained title "Seeker of Awkward Truths"] [System Notice: Player LegendaryChad89 has lost "Young Master''s Confidence"] [System Notice: Player LegendaryChad89 is now questioning his gender]
... "Now that''s art," North murmured, reaching for his energy drink. His fingers never made it. "Maybe I should add a marriage competition arc," He mused, opening his scenario editor. "Nothing like a hundred young masters fighting over a bride only to realize they''re actually fighting over the sect''s most muscular senior brother."
As North prepared to trigger another scenario¡ªperhaps one where a divine pig accidentally becomes ruler of an immortal empire¡ªsomething unexpected happened. A system prompt flickered on his screen, one he had never seen before.
ERROR: SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR DETECTED A DISCREPANCY IN PLAYER CONTROL. Recalibrating User Experience... Processing Customization... Loading Full Immersion Mode...
North narrowed his eyes. "What the hell?" Before he could react, the screen flashed white. "Wait," His eyes widened as his chair began to dissolve. "Wait, wait, wait¡ª" The sound of thunder cracked through his room, the smell of burning ozone filled his lungs. His body felt weightless, his chair vanishing beneath him as his vision warped. Then¡ª He felt hard, sticky, and dirty floor beneath his fingers. A hot smell inundated his nose. The roar of random Visionaries battling over nonsense inside the inn. North¡¯s eyes snapped open. He was no longer in his room. He seemed to have entered an entire different world or perhaps he had somehow pulled inside the game. And his own absurd world was now real.
?[WELCOME TO FANTASY SIMULATOR]? [Administrator "North" recognized. Because you enjoyed playing this game so much. You have been chosen as lucky world traveler. Thus, you are no longer a player. You are now a part of the system.] [Processing...] [Role Assigned: "Designated Scapegoat of Cosmic Balance."] [Error: System Stability¡ª 0%. Too much chaos detected. Attempting forced balance...] [Status: Stripping of all privileges] [New Role: Integration Required]
North¡¯s lips twitched violently, he couldn''t breathe.
[Plot Armor: 0.1% - Critical Low] [Survival Tax: In Debt Already] [Surreal Charm: CATASTROPHICALLY HIGH]
[Installing Base Template...] [Template Installed: "Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins"]
As voices rang out in his head one after another, North slowly turned his head, eyes narrowing as Old Man Wei sat nearby drinking and sighing, who had unofficially became designated quest givers to the young masters of the Five Immortal Continents. A random visionary in the distance screamed, "YOU DARE EXIST IN MY PRESENCE?!" and instantly launched a world-shattering sword beam in his direction. A Jade Beauty gasped from a pavilion, "How shameless! He has seen my face¡ªhe must dug out his eyes or die!" North exhaled, fat tears brimming in his eyes. "...Somebody Get Me Out of Here..." This was the beginning of his Last Game. 1.2 [New Event Triggered: "Unwanted Attention."] There was a barrage of deadly attacks flying everywhere in the inn. Swords sliced through the wooden beams, sending splinters raining like arrows. A Qi-infused palm strike shattered an entire wall, turning it into dust. The air itself was infused with killing intent, suffocating like a dense fog of bloodlust. At one table, a mysterious hooded expert sipped his tea calmly while a battle between life and death erupted around him¡ªexactly as expected. At another, an old beggar mysteriously revealed himself to be a hidden grandmaster, casually blocking a divine spear strike with a single chopstick. And North? Face-down on the floor, covering his head with both hands like a pathetic bug, trying not to die. Because if there was one universal truth about the inns, it was this: There was always trouble brewing. Whether it was arrogant young masters throwing their weight around, mysterious hooded figures exchanging cryptic messages, or desperate rogue visionary scheming in the shadows, no inn was ever just a place to rest. It was a battleground of hidden grudges, power struggles, and absurd misunderstandings that could escalate into full-blown duels at any moment. And if you were unlucky enough to walk through the doors at the wrong time? Congratulations¡ªyou were now part of the drama. What more: (Walking down the street alone and mistakenly staring at a Jade Beauty (or vice versa), randomly finding a treasure, and trying to eat in peace at an inn were the top three easiest ways to die.) The first? A death sentence in disguise. A single misplaced glance at a peerless beauty was enough to summon a murderous young master, an overprotective elder, or an entire sect hell-bent on erasing your existence. Whether you had romantic intentions or just happened to be looking in the wrong direction, the outcome was usually the same¡ªdisfigurement, crippling injuries, or outright obliteration. The second? Finding a treasure never ended well. If you stumbled upon an ancient artifact, a divine pill, or even a suspiciously shiny rock, congratulations¡ªyou now had the lifespan of a mayfly. The moment the news got out, you''d be hunted by greedy visionaries, scheming sect leaders, and possibly the original owner, who just happened to not be dead yet. The stronger the treasure, the higher the likelihood of your immediate and brutal demise. And the third? Trying to eat in peace at an inn. It should have been the safest thing in the world¡ªjust sit down, order a meal, and enjoy some food. Wrong. The moment you took a bite, some arrogant bastard would bump into you, insult you, or assume you were staring at their lover/treasure/spiritual beast. A bowl of rice could turn into your last supper within seconds. And North knew this better than anyone. Because he was the one who added these scenarios in the first place. "System?" North¡¯s voice cracked as he tried to drag himself under a nearby table to escape, his fingers slipping against the cold floor. "System, exit game. Exit. EXIT! FUCK! SYSTEM!" Yet, there was no system response to help him or give a simple tutorial. North cursed under his breath, trying not to scream. His pulse hammered in his ears. But what truly made his face drain of color wasn¡¯t the sheer absurdity of the situation¡ªit was the small dialogue box floating just above his head. His breath hitched as he craned his neck, reading the text in disbelief.
[Plot Armor: 0.1% - Critical Low] [Survival Tax: In Debt Already] [Surreal Charm: CATASTROPHICALLY HIGH]
His stomach twisted. He knew what these stats meant. Everyone in the simulator world had them, hidden deep within the character''s code¡ªbackground data that dictated a character¡¯s fate. But the fact that he could see his own? That was bad. That was really bad. Then again, maybe it wasn¡¯t surprising. After all, he was real¡ªa flesh-and-blood player in a world of programmed idiots (hopefully). Still, the more he stared at those numbers, the more despair crawled up his spine like ice-cold fingers. Plot Armor dictated how much ¡®protagonist protection¡¯ someone had in dangerous situations. He was practically a discarded extra. Survival Tax was a brutal system function¡ªit didn¡¯t even exist in the original simulator. He programmed it in. Its purpose? To erase uninteresting, useless NPCs. If a character didn¡¯t contribute to the world¡¯s ¡®entertainment value,¡¯ they¡¯d either be wiped out or, more likely, thrown into some catastrophic death scenario. And Surreal Charm? A stat that determined how much absolute bullshit a person attracted. His was catastrophically high. His vision blurred for a moment. I should just off myself!!! The thought squeezed its way into his head, dark and suffocating. If he died first, he might escape this hell of a dream. Meanwhile, what had started as a simple meal stop had now escalated into a full-scale bloodbath. It began innocently enough¡ªsome overconfident young master had demanded a another young rogue visionary hand over his treasure. The rogue refused, obviously. The young master shouted, "YOU COURTING DEATH?!" The rogue replied with, "I¡¯LL KILL YOUR WHOLE BLOODLINE!" And then¡­ everyone got involved. North had barely crawled under the table when the explosion sent him crashing to the ground. The pain immediately jolted him awake and he was sure he wasn¡¯t dreaming or tripping badly on drugs anymore. It all felt too real to be a illusion or a prank. He instinctively curled into a defensive position, hoping that if he looked weak enough, the world might just ignore him. Simultaneously, the rules he had created flashed past his eyes to survive these kind of situations: Rule #1: Never get up too soon. Right now, five sword beams, three palm strikes, and a flying roasted duck passed inches over his head. Standing meant instant death. Rule #2: Never try to reason with anyone. A voice screamed above him, "YOU DARE STAND IN MY PATH?!" Someone else shouted, "FOOL! THAT TREASURE BELONGS TO ME!" Another man roared, "WHO EVEN ARE YOU?!" It didn¡¯t matter what the argument was about. No one ever actually listened in these situations. Rule #3: If you make eye contact with anyone, you''re now part of the fight. North kept his gaze firmly locked on the floor, watching wooden planks splinter apart from stray attacks. Then it happened. He made the ultimate mistake. While shifting his position slightly, his gaze accidentally landed on someone¡¯s foot. A second of horrible silence followed. Then¡ª
[Warning! You have accidentally stared at Young Master Zhao''s boots. This is considered a direct provocation.]
How the fuck was this a provocation?! North screamed internally. He had built these damn mechanics himself¡ªcrafted every ridiculous rule, every unfair twist. And now? Now he was the one suffering under them firsthand. Karma was a bitch. "HOW DARE A LOWLY WORM LIKE YOU LOOK AT ME?!" Young Master Zhao¡¯s voice boomed through the inn, an eruption of indignant fury so loud that even the drunken visionary face-down in his soup stirred. North¡¯s soul left his body. No, no, no¡ª A table exploded beside him, sending shattered bowls and steaming broth flying. A pair of chopsticks embedded themselves in the wall like throwing knives. Before North could even roll out of the way, a hand latched onto his collar and yanked him up like a misbehaving dog. Standing before him was a peak-grade asshole. Young Master Zhao, heir to some obscenely rich sect, draped in robes so expensive they could probably buy out a small kingdom. Golden phoenix embroidery shimmered across the silk, a sword strapped to his waist purely for decoration. His face, sculpted into permanent arrogant disgust, made it clear¡ªmerely existing near him was an offense punishable by death. "You¡­" Zhao sneered, his grip tightening. "Who are you to DARE look upon me?" North¡¯s mind raced. Think, think, think. Beg for forgiveness? Useless. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.Insult him back? Instant execution. Feign ignorance? Might work. Play dead? ¡­Potentially viable. Before he could pick, Zhao¡¯s fist was already flying. And that was when North¡¯s brain went into overdrive. He didn¡¯t have superpowers. He didn¡¯t have a golden finger. He didn¡¯t even have a broken system. What he did have was a lifetime of knowledge on how these scenarios played out. And so¡ªat the last possible second¡ªhe activated the most foolproof defense mechanism known to all men. He collapsed to the ground and screamed: "SPARE ME, SENIOR BROTHER! I AM BUT A LOWLY WORM!" The entire inn went silent. The guy mid-sword swing froze. Someone dropped their chopsticks. Even the bartender, who had likely seen every kind of chaos in his life, stared. Begging for mercy? Normal. But falling to the floor and screaming before the slap even landed? That was a level of pathetic even these visionaries weren¡¯t prepared for. Young Master Zhao¡¯s hand hovered mid-air, confusion flickering across his face. "Y-you¡­" He hesitated. "...This is too easy." A random guy in the corner murmured, "Is he really this weak?"
[Young Master Zhao has lost interest. He no longer sees you as worthy of slapping.]
North didn¡¯t move. Lying on the ground, arms covering his head, he simply waited. Waited for the attention to shift. Waited for a new fight to break out. And sure enough¡ª
[Warning: Jade Beauty "Liu Mei" has entered the inn. Conflict re-routing¡­]
A woman in white silk stepped inside. Instantly, every male visionary within five miles turned to look. And just like that¡ªNorth was forgotten. Young Master Zhao scoffed, brushing off his sleeve. "As I thought. Not even worth my time." Within seconds, a battle broke out over who would sit next to Liu Mei. Flying swords. Explosions. Young masters screaming in righteous fury. North exhaled. Slowly. "...I hate this world so much."
[You have survived the Inn Massacre.]
And with that, North crawled toward the exit, praying to whatever gods and immortals existed that he wouldn''t run into another idiot. The chaos inside the inn raged on behind him¡ªflying swords, explosions, young masters screaming in righteous fury. But at least, for now, he had crawled his way to temporary safety. The alley was dark, damp, and most importantly¡ªempty. No arrogant sect heirs, no berserk treasure hunters, no Jade Beauties accidentally triggering forced engagement plots. Just an overturned barrel, and a suspicious puddle that smelled like regret. North pressed himself against the wall, gasping for breath. "System?" His own voice sounded pathetically weak in the alley¡¯s silence. "System, exit game." Nothing. ¡°EXIT! FUCK! SYSTEM! Where the hell are you? Get me out of here!" Silence. Not even a flicker of response. But he knew it was still there. Because when he had nearly died on the floor of the inn, it had been whispering in his ear. Giving commentary. Did that mean¡­ that voice was only there to remind him while he suffered? To spectate? To rub salt into his wounds while he was bleeding out? Was it pay back for him torturing the npc for so many years and making this world a hell hole? His fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm. His breathing slowed. And for the first time since getting dragged into this hell, a cold, terrible realization settled in his gut. What if there was no exit? What if¡ª
[Processing Query¡­]
His entire body froze. A chill crept up his spine, like a thousand invisible eyes suddenly turned their gaze upon him.
[Administrator "North" has attempted to issue a system command.] [Command Rejected.] [Error: "Exit Game" does not exist.] [Reminder: You are no longer a Administrator.] [You are part of the world.]
North¡¯s stomach dropped. Worse was coming true. There was no exit. No logout screen. No return button. The system wasn''t broken. However, the world was and he was to blame (probably). North slowly collapsed against the alley wall, his head falling into his hands. His fingers trembled. His mind raced. This was it. This was his fate now? He had built a nightmare world full of broken mechanics, sadistic plotlines, and unbalanced chaos. Torturing Npc, and now, this was a pay back. He was living in it, alive. His own absurd creation had swallowed him whole. And worst of all¡­ ¡­ "No, I need to get out." North clenched his fists. He had built this world. He had designed every broken mechanic, every absurd rule, every unfair scenario that had tormented players and NPCs alike. And that meant¡­ He could survive it. He could find a way out. Hope flickered in his chest, pushing back against the creeping despair. His mind, once clouded with panic, now sharpened with cold resolve. Lifting his head, he stared at the floating system dialogue box above him.
[Plot Armor: 6% - Critical Low] [Survival Tax: Still In Debt] [Surreal Charm: CATASTROPHICALLY HIGH]
Plot Armor was dangerously low, meaning he could die at any moment. Survival Tax¡­ well, that just sounded ominous. But, it needed to be paid at the end of the day. And he needed to earn it fast. Surreal Charm at "catastrophically high" made him uneasy¡ªhigh charisma was usually good, but not in a world like this, too much could only mean disaster. It was weird experiencing everything first hand. He had played this on the simulator countless time, but still it felt very weird. However, it wasn¡¯t those numbers that truly stopped him in his tracks.
[Base Template: Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins] [Installed Archetype: Newbie Luck]
North stared. His breath hitched. He swore. He was cursed from the start. He had spent years designing this world, balancing (or rather, unbalancing) how characters functioned inside it. "Base Template"¡ªthat was a pre-set narrative function that dictated a character¡¯s role in the world. And his? [Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins] This was worse than he imagined. He was a walking calamity. It didn¡¯t matter where he went, even if it was just stepping out for tea. His Base Template ensured that something ridiculous, dangerous, or life-changing would happen. It was hardcoded into his existence. It explained everything¡ª He wasn¡¯t unlucky. He was designed to trigger events just by existing. And the worst part? Surreal Charm: CATASTROPHICALLY HIGH] His attraction to trouble was absurdly high meant that not only would he always be dragged into situations¡ªhe would be the center of them. Even if he did absolutely nothing. And Then There Was "Archetype"¡­ [Installed Archetype: Newbie Luck] North¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Archetype" wasn¡¯t something he had ever programmed into player stats. This was new. A perk? A curse? A game function that only he had? [Newbie Luck] North¡¯s mind raced. In most games, Newbie Luck meant temporary beginner-friendly advantages. Better item drops. Random strokes of good fortune. Surviving things you had no right surviving. He looked at the bigger picture. If "Base Template" dictated his role¡­ and "Archetype" gave him traits¡­ then maybe¡­ Maybe he could change it. He needed more information. But first, he needed to survive long enough to figure it out. His mind clicked into survival mode. Find out more about "Archetypes." Test "Newbie Luck" to see how it really worked. Avoid triggering unnecessary "plots" by standing still for too long.
[Objective Updated: Gather Information on System Mechanics] [Reminder: Hostility Rate - 93.8%] [New Event Triggered: "Unwanted Attention."]
North¡¯s eyes widened. Before he could react, A shadow loomed over him. A voice, silky and dangerous, purred above him. "Oh, well¡­ Who''s hiding here?" North¡¯s stomach sank. Because even before turning his head, he already knew¡ª a voice echoed in his ears.
[Jade Beauty Encounter: Triggered.] [Due to "Surreal Charm" the encounter will escalate by 500%.]
North took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Fuuuuuuu¡ª" 1.3 [You have officially triggered the Tutorial Dialogue.] "I¡¯m asking you who you are? And why are you hiding here?¡± The voice was soft yet commanding, laced with the kind of arrogance that could only belong to someone highborn and untouchable. North didn¡¯t even need to turn around to confirm it. [Jade Beauty Encounter: Confirmed.] He rolled his eyes. Of course. Another mess of his own making. He exhaled through his nose. Why even fight it at this point? His entire life had officially become a joke, and he was the punchline. At this rate, he wasn¡¯t even sure if he¡¯d survive the rest of the day. His eyes were already brimming with frustrated, exhausted tears, and he decided to use them. Might as well turn his misery into a survival strategy. "My family¡­ my family was killed by bandits¡­" North choked on his own words, his voice cracking. "We¡­ we were traveling to the city and were about to cross the mountains ¡­ and they attacked us. I was¡­ I was the only one who escaped¡­" His shoulders shook violently, and he let out a ragged breath, pouring every ounce of pain, frustration, and existential horror of his current reality into his performance. "I didn¡¯t even get a chance¡­ to bury their bodies!" His voice wavered. "I¡¯m all alone now¡­ the last of my family." The words left his lips so smoothly, so naturally, that even he was shocked by his own ability to bullshit. North almost snorted. But he had no time to break character. For added effect, he lifted his head slowly, allowing his teary, bloodshot eyes to lock onto the woman standing above him. And for the first time¡ªhe hesitated. The woman before him wasn¡¯t just beautiful. She was game-breaking. Her black hair fell in a cascade of silken strands, shimmering like moonlight on a still lake. Her eyes¡ªmoon like¡ªseemed to glow faintly in the dim alleyway. Her skin was flawless, her lips softly parted in shock, her robes¡ªdelicately embroidered with celestial motifs¡ªsuggested she wasn¡¯t just some random noblewoman. No. She was important. Which meant she was dangerous. North immediately corrected his mental state. This was not a good thing. She was either:
  1. A tragic heroine, destined to drag him into some revenge plot.
  2. A high-ranking sect disciple, meaning he was about five seconds away from being accused of something stupid.
  3. A future antagonist, who would one day remember this meeting and try to kill him over something equally stupid.
But for now? She simply stood there, her mouth slightly open, clearly at a loss for words. North also stayed silent. It was a risk to speak first. The golden rule of survival was never give anyone an excuse to suddenly declare you their sworn enemy. Instead, he let the awkward silence stretch. The mercury in the girl''s eyes flickered, shifting from shock to¡­ something unreadable. Her expression rippled, like a serene lake disturbed by a large, poorly thrown rock. She opened her mouth. Then closed it. North swallowed, waiting. "Ahh... I see." She nodded sagely, as if she had just unraveled the mysteries of the universe. A second passed. Then another. "Hand me all the money you have." She raised a delicate hand and shamelessly¡ªshamelessly¡ªasked. North¡¯s jaw dropped. His face drained of color so fast he briefly felt his soul leave his body. Huh? No. No, no, no, no. This wasn¡¯t in the script. His mind reeled. This wasn¡¯t how a Jade Beauty encounter worked! A proper Jade Beauty had two, TWO correct responses:
  1. Instantly fall in love and become hopelessly devoted.
  2. Gracefully storm off in disgust, possibly sending a murder squad after him.
But this?!
[Error: Character behavior outside expected parameters] [Template conflict detected] [Unable to predict scenario outcome]
North stared at her outstretched hand, blinking rapidly, as if his eyes were deceiving him. Shouldn¡¯t she be at least mildly offended by his tragic, peasant-tier sob story? Or, at the very least, react with the usual noble lady arrogance? And yet¡ªhere she was. Hand extended. Completely unfazed. Waiting for money like a patient yet professional loan shark. This was wrong. The system was literally glitching. Had his presence here broken some critical world-setting parameter? Or¡ªwas the world already this broken before he got here? His existential crisis was abruptly cut short. "Stop overthinking." The girl clicked her tongue, impatient. "I promise, I''ll burn paper money for your family. Yes, I know how to do that.¡± She nodded, purposely acting innocently and cute(perhaps). ¡­ North almost choked on air. He gawked at her, his mind short-circuiting so hard he swore he heard static. Not even a hint of hesitation. No fake sympathy. No delicate, sorrowful sigh. Just¡ª"Give me your money, I¡¯ll burn some for your dead relatives." Like she was doing him a favor. This wasn¡¯t a tragic heroine. This was a damn highway bandit. North glanced at her again. The moon-like glow in her eyes. The otherworldly aura. The elegant, flowing robes that made her look like she belonged in an immortal sect, standing atop a floating sword, radiating divine energy. A celestial fairy. A goddess descended from the heavens. But, his gaze lowered to her shamelessly outstretched hand. The illusion shattered. This was no goddess. This was a corporate debt collector in disguise. Also, he definitely hadn¡¯t misheard. "Uhhh¡­" He licked his lips. "I¡ªI don¡¯t have money." Her piercing gaze narrowed. "Didn''t you just say your family was traveling to the city? That means you had money for travel expenses." North¡¯s left eye twitched. "¡­We got robbed?" he tried weakly. "Then you should have at least a copper or two hidden somewhere," she stated with complete certainty, as if he were lying to her face. ¡°How did you intend to survive in the city after escaping the bandits?¡± "I¡ªI planned to¡­" North struggled. "To¡­ um¡­ find work?" She scoffed. "You? Work?" Her eyes flicked over him, unimpressed. "With that face?" "Excuse me?!" North choked. Did¡­ did she really just say that? This woman was more of a villain than those mountain bandits in his eyes. "Too soft." She gestured vaguely at his entire existence. "No calluses. No scars. You¡¯re obviously not a laborer. Not a merchant either¡ªyour clothes are cheap and weird, where did you buy them from? And your posture? You''re holding yourself like an outsider." North felt personally attacked. Where was the melancholy? Where was the cold but elegant rejection? Where was the dramatic hair flip followed by her walking away into the mist? His brain refused to process. "What¡­" He exhaled slowly. "What kind of person are you?"This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. "A smart one," she said, as if that should have been obvious. North had no words. He rubbed his temples. "You¡ª¡­ How¡ª¡­ What¡ª¡­" His internal suffering must have been written all over his face because she sighed dramatically, as if dealing with a troublesome child. ¡°Why is everyone I meet broke nowadays?¡± she muttered under her breath. Then, after a long pause, she clicked her tongue and looked him over again. "Alright, fine." She waved a hand, sounding almost annoyed at herself. "I''ll cover the cost myself. But next time, don¡¯t expect generosity." North twitched. Next time?! He was never meeting this scammer again.
[Affinity with ??? increased by +30.] [New Fate Tie Formed.]
"No. NO." North snapped his head up, alarmed. Fate Tie? That was not good. That meant this wasn¡¯t a one-time encounter. That meant this lunatic would cross paths with him again. That meant his Surreal Charm was once again ruining his life. Think, North. THINK. He needed to break the connection. Now. But, alas¡­.he had no solution to such a strange problem. Then he froze again. A notification box materialized in the corner of his vision, its text dripping with ominous implications:
[??? secretly used her ability. You now owe ??? a favor and a pot of gold.]
¡­What. North was left utterly speechless, he stood there, filled with existential crisis, as the mysterious but shameless beauty walked away, disappearing into the crowded street. "WHAT WAS THAT?! WHAT ABILITY? WHY AND HOW DO I SUDDENLY OWE HER A POT OF GOLD?!" That is insane¡­. North had never coded such ability in the game. He wasn¡¯t sure if he should be horrified or impressed. His fists clenched. He had survived young masters, a murder inn, and a system that somehow seemed liked wanted him to suffer. But somehow¡­Somehow this was the most mentally exhausting thing that had happened so far. He rubbed his face. This world was broken. But the real problem? So was he. Because as much as he wanted to pretend this never happened, a tiny, horrible part of him was morbidly curious. What kind of insane person had he just met? And how much worse was this world going to get? There was no other way to escape momentarily, so it seemed surviving was the only option left. But survival¡ªthat deceptively simple word¡ªmight be harder than leaping over a dragon''s head. And not just because every NPC in this world was certifiably insane. No, the real problem ran deeper, embedded in the very code he''d written. If this world still followed the rules of his simulator, then¡­ There was no story. No hero¡¯s journey. No pre-scripted main questline. Just parameters set in place, conflicts brewing until the world burned, and an endless loop of violence, ambition, and chaos until either: The entire simulator crashed due to errors. The server wiped itself. The game hit an unplayable state. That was it. That was how he designed it. And now he was inside it. Which meant¡­ There was nothing guiding him. No pre-determined fate. No "destined to be the protagonist" nonsense. Nothing.
[Survival Tax: Quite in debt] [Time Remaining: 6 Hours]
[Warning: Lack of coherent plot structure detected]
North clutched his already pulsating head, feeling like it might explode like an overripe melon. Was this why the system had given him that template¡ª[Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins]? Perhaps this was the system''s attempt to inject some sort of structure into his chaotic creation. At least, that''s what he told himself to keep from completely losing his mind. Level up, level up, level up... North smacked his fist against his palm as he paced back and forth in the small alley. The answer was obvious, wasn''t it? He needed what everyone in this world needed: a Fate Token. It was the only reliable way to level up in this world. He should know¡ªhe''d coded it that way himself. Fate Tokens, generated by the world itself, sprouting up whenever there was conflict, ambition, or a major shift in destiny. They weren¡¯t exactly hidden treasures or rare inheritance items, but they weren''t something you could just buy like vegetables from a market stall. Once used, they could transform anyone into a Visionary, opening the path to real power. Rob a rich family, Raid a clan, Auction, Join a sect, or enter a competition. North thought of many ways while the bitter irony of his situation hit him full force. This is what I put people through? This is what I forced thousands of players and NPCs to deal with? Every single "opportunity" was a death trap he''d personally designed. Now he was stuck in his own well of infinite chaos, desperately searching for a rope that he''d never bothered to program into existence. No need to cry. Yes, his life expectancy was lower than a cannon fodder disciple in a face-slapping arc. Yes, he was stuck in a world full of lunatics that followed rules even he barely understood. Yes, he was doomed to be at the center of chaos every time he moved. But¡­ Quest Giver Wei was still inside the inn. North knew the old man''s code intimately¡ªWei wouldn''t die even if an immortal vaporized him. He was like a constant in an equation, a normal Visionary given a job by the Heavens... or more accurately, by North himself. Though that distinction hardly mattered now. I might as well take advantage of this opportunity... Where am I? He lifted his head, finally taking a good look at the world around him. Pavilions rose into the sky like ancient trees, their sweeping roofs decorated with jade and gold that caught the morning light. Wind chimes hung from every corner, their soft rings mixing with the bustle below. Some buildings seemed to float on clouds, while others were carved straight into the mountain face behind the city. The streets beneath his feet were paved with something that sparkled¡ªfragments of nether stones, he realized. Centuries of footsteps had worn them smooth, creating paths that glowed softly in the shadows of the towering structures above. People filled the streets in endless streams. Disciples hurried past in their sect uniforms, trying to look important. Merchants shouted prices for pills and weapons that probably didn''t do what they claimed. Every now and then, someone would zip by overhead on a sword or cloud, causing the crowds to duck out of habit. A massive pagoda dominated the skyline, its golden spires disappearing into the clouds. Sect banners hung from buildings everywhere, each promising glory and power to anyone stupid enough to sign up for their next tournament. It must be a city, North thought, though that was like calling a dragon an oversized lizard. This has to be one of the major hubs of some big clan or sect. Not just a random sect village or some backwater town. And a place where rules existed¡­ sort of. A place where sect disciples, wandering cultivators, merchants, and nobles all mixed together. And that meant: North exhaled. Step one: Get useful info. Step two: Survive long enough to use it. ¡­ North steeled himself and stepped through the wrecked doorway of the inn. If he could create this game, then he could damn well play it too. Otherwise, wouldn''t people laugh at him for being as useless as a rock? The smell of burnt wood and spilled alcohol filled the air. A few bodies (probably just unconscious, hopefully) were scattered across the floor. The earlier young master drama seemed to have escalated into a full-scale brawl between three different sects. But now silence reigned, broken only by workers cursing the ancestors of those who''d left this mess behind. And in the middle of it all... An old man sat behind a counter, casually sipping tea, completely untouched. Quest Giver Wei. A pillar of stability in an ocean of madness. His wrinkled hands lifted his cup with deliberate slowness, his eyes barely acknowledging the destruction around him. North rushed over, his heart leaping. Here was his chance. "Senior," he said breathlessly, dropping into a dramatic bow. "Please, enlighten this lowly one!" Old Wei finally looked up. His expression was the same as always¡ªneutral, unbothered, mildly inconvenienced by existence itself. "Ah. I never seen you before. Are you new?"
[You have officially triggered the Tutorial Dialogue.]
North tried to stay calm. Even though his "player/Administrator" status was revoked, Quest Giver Wei was still a system fixture. Meaning? There were pre-set questions that could force information out of him. [Ask About: Basic Cultivation?] [Ask About: City Laws?] [Ask About: Fate Tokens?] [Ask About: Trends of the World?] [Ask About: A Quest!] North¡¯s eyes locked onto one specific choice. [Ask About: Fate Tokens?] Bingo. He cleared his throat, channeling every bit of ''humble junior'' energy he could muster. "Senior, this lowly junior lacks the eyes to see the Mount Tai. I have heard of your reputation far and wide, and I implore you to give me some advice." 1.4 [Quest Updated] "Fate Token?" Old Wei set his cup of wine down slowly, deliberately¡ªthe practiced motion of a man who had seen too much, cared too little, and had mastered the art of being cryptic purely to frustrate others. North leaned forward. "Yes! Fate Token!" He nodded eagerly. "How do I get one?" Old Wei¡¯s calm, aged eyes studied North for a moment, gaze unreadable, as if weighing his worth. Then, after a long pause, he finally spoke. "Didn¡¯t your family provide for you?" He swirled the wine in his cup lazily. "If a child has any talent, their family would do everything in their power to buy one." Did he really look like someone with a family backing him?! Was his torn, dust-covered hoodie not enough of a hint? Did this scam artist of a tutorial NPC not see the absolute despair in his eyes?! Sigh! Focus. Adapt. Fast-forward. North didn¡¯t hesitate. "My family was poor. We couldn¡¯t afford one." The lie slipped out smoothly. No hesitation, no embellishment. He needed to fast-forward past this nonsense. Old Wei stroked his long white beard, deep in thought. "How old are you?" "Twenty-three." There was no point in lying about that. "Too old." North barely had time to process that before Old Wei shook his head with absolute finality. "There are many competitions held by the various clans in the city," he continued, "but the participant age must be under fifteen. With your age, they won¡¯t even let you in." North¡¯s brow furrowed. Shit. He hadn¡¯t even considered that his age might be a factor. Now, if he barged into a clan-held competition¡ªwhich, honestly, was already on his list of ideas¡ªnot only would they throw him out, they might even slap him on the way out for his audacity. "Oh, come on." North massaged his pulsating forehead. So what, just because he was twenty-three, he was now trash? Actually¡­ wait. Didn¡¯t he make this rule? His mind flashed back to all the times players complained in forums about how hard it was to start as an older character. [Player: Cultivator42]: "WTF, why do all sects reject you if you¡¯re over 18?! How am I supposed to level up?!" [Player: ScrewedOver]: "Bro, I made a 30-year-old dude, and the first NPC I met literally told me to go home and start a farm instead of cultivating." North wanted to punch himself. This was his own fault. Fine. If the normal method didn¡¯t work, he just had to find another way. [Alternative Methods to Get a Fate Token:]
  1. Steal One.
  2. Scam One.
  3. Find an Illegal Market.
  4. Trigger a Random Plot and Hope It Gives a Reward.
North sighed. So, robbery, deception, crime, or throwing himself into disaster. Fantastic. This world was basically forcing him into villainy. And honestly? He was starting to understand why villains existed. ¡°But¡­¡± What Quest giver Wei next said gave North a little hope. ¡°There is one way for you.¡± North eyes sparkled and he stared at Old Wei¡¯s face expectantly. ¡°I have a way for you to obtain a Fate Token. But in exchange, you must deliver something for me.¡± North¡¯s brain went on full alert. This was a Quest. He had designed a million of these "small errand" quests before. And 99% of them led directly into something dangerous. "...What do I have to deliver?" Wei tapped the wooden counter. "A letter."
[New Item Received: Sealed Letter from Quest Giver Wei]
North narrowed his eyes. "That¡¯s it?" "A simple delivery," Wei confirmed. "Take it to the Golden Feather Pavilion in the Inner City. Hand it to a man named Yun Jian. Once you do that, you will receive your Fate Token as your payment." North held the letter carefully. No bloodstains. No mysterious dark aura. Just an ordinary piece of parchment, carefully folded and sealed with wax. It was suspiciously normal.
[Quest Updated: Deliver Wei''s Letter to Yun Jian.] [Reward: A Fate Token (Allegedly).]
It seemed like a good start¡ªhoping everything would go quietly and peacefully from here. North could only hope as he pocketed the letter. Still, something about Quest Giver Wei nagged at him. The old man seemed to know more than he let on, which was concerning since North had written his original dialogue tree himself. North shook his head. That was a problem for future North. Right now, present North had bigger concerns. A quick glance at his stats confirmed what he already knew.
[Plot Armor: 6% - Critical Low] [Survival Tax: Still in Debt] [Surreal Charm: CATASTROPHICALLY HIGH]
[Base Template: Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins] [Installed Archetype: Newbie Luck]
Nothing had changed. Which meant trouble was still coming. But he could take cautious steps to limit its influence. So, with a deep sigh, North bowed slightly to Wei, spun on his heel, and made a sharp U-turn out of the inn¡ªpraying he wouldn¡¯t immediately crash into some lunatic on the way. The first thing he noticed upon stepping outside? The city was massive. Not just in size, but in design. The entire city was built into a mountain, the stonework perfectly carved and polished, its pathways shaped into terraced levels that ascended toward the heart of civilization. At its center, a colossal pagoda loomed above all, its golden spire catching the sunlight and sending out a faint, divine glow. There was no need for maps or guidance. Even without asking, North could tell: [The Inner City is near the pagoda.] It was the heart of power, where the richest, strongest, and most terrifying figures in the city lived. And if Yun Jian¡ªthe man he needed to deliver the letter to¡ªwas there, then North had no choice but to go straight toward the lion¡¯s den. As North walked through the stone-paved streets, he observed the people moving around him. Most wore robes and tunics, clearly favoring the traditional cultivator aesthetic. Many carried weapons on their backs, as if it were completely normal to be armed at all times. Some of these people moved with purpose¡ªcultivators on a hunt, mercenaries on a contract, sect disciples returning from missions. There were also the odd ones. A few wore thick, untamed beast hides, their savage appearance and scent of dried blood making it clear they lived more in wilderness than civilization. North didn¡¯t know what to think about that. More importantly, though¡ªhe was getting looks. People glanced at him, eyes lingering for just a second or two before moving on. No one attacked him outright, which was a huge win in his book. But he knew exactly why he was standing out. It was his clothes. Unlike the locals, who all wore either flowing robes, armored vests, or battle-ready attire, North was wandering around in a hoodie and jeans. He wasn¡¯t glaringly foreign, but he definitely didn¡¯t blend in perfectly, either. But it might also be because of how he looked, while outside the simulator, it was harder to make inside NPCs facial features altogether, but now he could tell pretty clearly they seemed to have somewhat a mix of asian and caucasian features mixed together with too many generations. Most of these people had pale skin and strong muscles, weathered by cold and mountain air, but this also could be due to them living in harsh environment and cultivation and fighting for survival. And then there was him. A college dude from New York. His features weren¡¯t so bizarre that he looked alien, but he was still different enough to be noticeable. North sighed. This was fine. Maybe. After all, this was just one city. Maybe there were other places in this world where people looked more like him. Maybe. But for now? He had bigger problems. Like delivering this letter without getting stabbed. Or worse¡ªaccidentally getting involved in another damn plot. He forcefully pushed the worries to the back of his mind. Instead, he focused on gathering other important info, like how there were carriages rolling on the main road, but it wasn''t what made him glance curiously. It was that some people were travelling on beasts, like a huge snake with a small pavilion on its back that slithered too fast on the road, its scales catching sunlight like polished jade. A toad the size of a small house jumped quite high and far, its passengers seemingly unbothered by the stomach-churning leaps. A few people were travelling on white winter wolves, their fur rippling with frost even in the warm air.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. His gaze shifted to the bustling merchant shops lined up along the long street. Even in his own world, a city''s true heart was always its market. And here? It was a fascinating blend of the ordinary and the extraordinary. Streams of both men and women weaved in and out of the shops, their movements fluid, confident. The voices of merchants boomed through the air: "Rare Qi-Infused Silk! Lighter than air, stronger than steel!" "Beast Cores! Absorb the essence, strengthen your cultivation!" "Genuine Fire Serpent Meat! Good for health, extends longevity!" He wasn¡¯t sure how much of it was legitimate. He was, however, very sure he did not want to eat anything that once belonged to a fire serpent. One of the subtler details he began to notice was the variation in clothing. Women''s attire itself was interesting, he inferred many of them wore clothes styled accordingly to their class or status. Normal mortal women wore simple long skirts and their dress was mostly long, with a wide hem. The cuffs and stitching of the dress carrying exquisite embroidery of floral, bird and animal, or other auspicious patterns¡ªprotection charms and luck-drawing formations woven subtly into the designs. Their were also young ladies who seemed to belong to clans or big families, their clothes were mostly similar but with colorful and exaggerated skirts and dress styles. Golden threads that actually contained real gold, silks dyed with crushed spirit gems, hems that floated an inch off the ground. They all looked quite good honestly, both in appearance and style, and North had to curb himself to not stare for more than a quick look lest he get entangled with something he wanted to avoid. He''d coded enough "you dare look at my daughter?" scenarios to know better. One wrong glance could trigger a dozen young masters appearing out of thin air, each demanding satisfaction for this grievous insult to their sect''s honor. Though a thought appeared silently and unbridled at the back of his head, given his charm was catastrophically high, would all ladies find him terrifyingly attractive? His system status flashed in warning at the very thought, so he gave up on the thought immediately. Well... that was only time would tell. And hopefully that time wouldn''t come with sword beams and engagement ultimatums. Anyway, so far, the city seemed structured. And best of all, he could understand and speak in the common tongue of this world, which was kinda a huge relief itself. It took him quite a long time to realize that he wasn''t speaking English with the shameless girl or Quest Giver Wei. The words flowed naturally from his tongue, as if he''d spoken them all his life. He inferred that this simulator was too real and too detailed. He also quietly wondered if these people were really NPCs, but that could only time and more research would tell. Each person he passed had depths in their eyes. For now, he decided to focus on gaining powers, but the thought sent another jolt of ecstasy through his nerves. How wonderful! He dreamed of flying on clouds like many Visionaries he had seen on his way above the buildings, their robes billowing in winds as they soared past. But he immediately curbed his mind, lest he cursed his luck. As North walked deeper into the city, the streets became wider, cleaner, and significantly more guarded. That was his first warning. His second warning? The checkpoint. North stopped dead in his tracks. Up ahead, four armored guards stood at attention, their spears gleaming under the sun, their eyes cold and unreadable. A long line of people waited before them, each holding small jade identification tablets and handing over two nether coins. North¡¯s face scrunched up immediately. Yeah. Just when he had started to feel too comfortable, the world slapped him with a paywall. He clicked his tongue, glancing around. He ran through his mental options. If this was still a simulation game¡­ If he had player access¡­ There were ways to glitch the system. [Infinite Coin Exploit] [Bypass Guards] [Steal an ID] North licked his lips. "Alright. Step one¡­ open terminal." He cleared his throat. "System. Open console." Nothing. "System. Run admin commands." Silence. "...System. You absolute bastard, answer me." Okay. Fine. He was in the world now. He wasn¡¯t a player anymore. No commands. No admin access. Just pure suffering. North exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Okay. Think, dumbass. What¡¯s your next move?" He scanned the checkpoint again. The guards were serious. No way he could just walk through. The line moved at a slow but steady pace. People were checking in, paying, and passing through. The jade ID tablets were being carefully examined. No bribing. No faking it. So¡­ alternatives. [Option 1: Find A Job & Earn Money Legitimately] [Option 2: Steal An ID From Someone In Line] [Option 3: Sneak In By Hiding On A Carriage] [Option 4: Wait For A Random Event To Happen] North bit his lip. He didn¡¯t want to risk a crime. And he didn¡¯t have time to work an honest job. Which meant¡­ [New Strategy: Observe & Wait For A Stupid Opportunity.] He took a casual step back, blending into the crowd. And then he waited. Because in this world¡­ All he had to do was stand still long enough¡­ And a plot would come crashing down on him. North sighed. "...Bring it on." ¡­ "Brother Li, you must listen!" The voice belonged to a round, heavyset young man, red-faced and flustered, speaking with the kind of intensity only a true brother-in-arms could have. His robes were slightly disheveled, as if he had rushed here just to deliver this warning. His face was earnest, his eyes filled with frustration and helplessness. "That Yue girl¡ªshe''s not what you think!" You have to listen to me, I dug into her background myself!" Standing opposite him was his friend. And this was where things got strange. Because the other man was¡­ perfect. North¡¯s brows furrowed. The handsome young man standing there had a presence that was almost blinding. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His white robes flowed with a natural grace, like the wind itself favored him. His face was striking, sharp but refined, with an air of righteousness. Even his hair looked like it had been combed by destiny itself. North had seen characters like this before. This was the kind of MC template he had seen a thousand times. A "Heaven¡¯s Chosen Protagonist" type. Someone who should be fated for greatness. Someone who should have a loyal fatty friend by his side, supporting him until the very end. And yet¡­ The script was going wrong. The fatty friend clenched his fists, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "Brother Li, I¡¯m not saying this to hurt you! I just¡­ I just don¡¯t want to see you used!" His voice wavered slightly, but he forced himself to continue. "I looked into her past myself. That woman¡ªyou think she¡¯s pure, that she loves you. But she¡¯s just using your name to rise in status!" Li froze, his eyes darkening. But the fatty didn¡¯t stop. "I even found out¡ª" He hesitated, lowering his voice, but North could still hear. "I heard she¡¯s been involved with the Fourth Young Master of the Lustrous Sky Clan. There are rumors that she even spent the night in his courtyard!" Li¡¯s entire expression twisted. "What¡­ did you just say?" His voice was low, dangerous. The fatty swallowed nervously but stood his ground. "I¡¯m saying¡ªshe¡¯s been scheming this whole time! I¡¯m not saying this to hurt you, Brother Li! I care about you! I think of you as my closest friend, so I can¡¯t just watch you be¡ª" "ENOUGH!" Li¡¯s roar echoed down the street, stunning even the passing pedestrians. "Yue Lingxi is pure as jade! How dare you spread such filthy rumors?" Li''s aura flared, making nearby ground shake like an earthquake. "If anyone else spoke such words, their head would leave their shoulders!" "I¡ª" Li''s next words came out cold as winter frost. "If you truly see me as a brother, you''ll never speak of this again. Never." He turned sharply, robes swirling. "I thought you''d be happy for me. I thought you''d understand what finding true love means." The fatty¡¯s face fell. "Brother Li¡­" His voice cracked slightly, but he forced a weak smile. "You really believe me so small-hearted?" Li didn¡¯t respond. Perhaps he could bring himself to think anything bad about the woman he loved crazily. So, he simply turned away, his white robes fluttering behind him as he stormed off toward the Inner City gates. The fatty stood there, fists trembling at his sides. He looked like he wanted to call out. To chase after him. But in the end¡­ He didn¡¯t. His shoulders slumped, and he lowered his head in disappointment. For a moment, North''s focus narrowed entirely on the scene before him¡ªthe heartbreak, the shattering of bonds, the way the fatty stood there, fists clenched, watching his closest friend walk away. Then... something changed. A bright pink crystal suddenly appeared above both of their heads, pulsing with an violet glow that only North could see. His breath caught in his throat as the system message flashed:
[Vision Unlocked: Narrative Roles Identified]
Above Fatty''s head, a title shimmered into existence:
[The Fatty Best Friend] [Status: Template Destabilizing] [Warning: Role Deviation Detected]
And above the walking-off protagonist?
[The Heaven-Favored Protagonist] [Status: Alignment Shifting] [Warning: Plot Armor Fluctuating]
North froze. "What... the hell?" His first instinct was to panic. Why was he suddenly seeing this? Why now? Then, his mind kicked into gear. This perhaps might be his golden finger, seeing their Character Templates. How bad! He was immediately disappointed. What was supposed to do with this knowledge? It had never displayed these "Character Templates" before. But now? It was showing their roles like floating text above each person¡ª"Guard Type B," "Minor Noble Family Young Master," "Common Street Vendor." Information he could''ve guessed just by looking at their clothes and bearing. The system wasn''t telling him anything useful. Still, North reasoned, if he could see "Character Templates," then he could theoretically predict who mattered in this world. Who was destined for greatness. Who was doomed to fail. And who was being rewritten in real time. A guard might have "Future Sect Leader" hidden in their template, or a beggar might carry "Hidden Dragon" in their code. But the problem was... What the hell was he supposed to do with this? Pushing the new problem aside, he had three options: [Option 1: Follow Li, the Protagonist] [Option 2: Approach the Fatty] [Option 3: Leave and Pretend He Saw Nothing] North exhaled sharply, glancing between the two figures. If this was just a normal broken friendship, he wouldn''t care. But this? This was a shift in fate itself. And if fate was shifting, then what else was changing? He could play it to his advantage, maybe even learn how to shift his own template. North tightened his grip on Wei''s letter. The paper crinkled, reminding him of his precarious position in this world. "Ah. I really don''t want to get involved." The words came out as a whisper, even as his mind raced through the possibilities. Getting tangled in protagonist drama was exactly the kind of thing that got NPCs killed in spectacular ways. 1.5 [Temporary Job Acquired: Festival Worker] North was left in a dilemma regarding how to approach Fatty before he stormed off like the protagonist. Moreover, he didn¡¯t want to anger this Npc for no reason. But, he also remembered Npc with Fatty Character Templates supposed to be friendly with everything. Still, this was tricky. He couldn¡¯t just walk up and bluntly ask, "Hey, wanna tell me your entire life story?" That was the kind of stupidity that got people killed. At the same time, letting Fatty leave without learning anything might mean missing a crucial opportunity. So, he had to play it smart. North took a breath, adjusted his posture, and casually stepped a little closer, making sure to keep his presence non-threatening. The key was to not make it seem like he was forcing a conversation. He tilted his head, looking up at the sky with a tired sigh. "Man¡­ friendships are harder than fighting a demon beast sometimes." It was casual, just a passing comment, as if he was just thinking out loud. Fatty, who had been staring at the ground with his fists clenched, twitched slightly. He turned his head, eyes narrowing, as if trying to decide whether to respond. A second passed. Then another. And then¡ª "Ha!" Fatty let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You don¡¯t even know the half of it." North kept his expression neutral, but internally, he was grinning. Hook, line, and sinker. "Yeah?" North gave a light chuckle, acting as if he wasn¡¯t totally invested. "I mean, people get blinded by emotions all the time. No matter how much you warn them, they only see what they want to see." Fatty froze mid-breath. His face twisted, eyes flashing with frustration, before he suddenly exhaled sharply, like he had been holding it all in. "Exactly!" He turned toward North fully now, voice rising. "That¡¯s exactly it! You try to help, you tell them the truth, and what do you get? Accusations. Betrayal. Disrespect." North shrugged, keeping his tone light. "So, what? You just let him go?" Fatty¡¯s expression flickered. His lips parted slightly, as if about to argue, but then he shut them just as quickly. North saw it instantly. That tiny moment of doubt. He wasn¡¯t fully convinced that he had done the right thing. Fatty let out a heavy breath, looking at the sky. "I should¡¯ve yelled more at him," he muttered. "Tried harder to knock some sense into him." North didn¡¯t respond immediately. Instead, he let Fatty sit with his own thoughts. The silence stretched just long enough for Fatty to feel the weight of his words. Then, North spoke again, carefully choosing his words. "Maybe," he said, tilting his head slightly. "Or maybe you already did your part. You gave him the truth. What he does with it? That¡¯s on him." Fatty¡¯s eyes flickered again. "...You really think so?" North gave a half-smile. "I don¡¯t know your whole story, but I¡¯ve seen it before. Some people have to learn the hard way." Fatty was silent for a moment. Then, he sighed, rubbing his face. "Maybe," he muttered. "But it still pisses me off." North chuckled. "That just means you care." Fatty let out a dry laugh. "Yeah. That¡¯s the problem." This was his chance. Now that Fatty was talking freely, North could ease into the real question. He glanced at him, keeping his tone casual. "So¡­ what do you think happens next?" Fatty snorted. "He¡¯ll keep chasing after that girl, obviously. Probably end up humiliating himself in the end." North nodded slowly. "But what about you?" Fatty crossed his arms, inhaled deeply, and looked toward the sky. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across his troubled face. A cool mountain breeze carried the distant chimes of bells from the shops. "No." His voice was quiet but resolute. "I can''t just let things go like this." Fatty clenched his fists, "I need to do something about Yue Linxi." North''s mind immediately flashed through his mental files containing recent info. Yue Linxi. A Jade Beauty archetype. The kind he''d coded to be walking catastrophes. North exhaled. "Alright," he said slowly. "Then what''s your grand plan, Brother¡­?" Fatty''s grin was sudden and sharp. "The Festival of Seasons." North blinked. "...What?" "What? You don''t know about Festival of Seasons?" Fatty''s eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Are you new here?" North rubbed the back of his head, feigning embarrassment. "Just arrived today in the city with my family from the village to start a new life. So I don''t know much about the city yet." "That confirms it," Fatty looked at his face then at his strange clothes. His gaze lingered on North''s hoodie with a mix of curiosity and mild disdain. "Anyway," he turned toward the bustling street, "I''ll tell you, it''s not a secret." He pointed toward the crowd surging toward the checkpoint. "Look at everybody trying to enter the inner city to get glimpses of geniuses." The crowd indeed seemed more excited than usual. Disciples in various sect robes pushed forward, while merchants hawked talismans and spirit fruits from makeshift stalls. Above, more Visionaries flew past using various methods such as flying beasts or rich used white clouds, their robes billowing in the winds. "The week is the Festival of Seasons," Fatty continued, his voice taking on a storyteller''s cadence. "All the famous young Visionaries will be gathered in the Inner City at Plum Gardens to trade pointers." North¡¯s brain immediately went into overdrive. Oh, this was not good (for him). Fatty, unaware of North¡¯s internal crisis, continued explaining. "The Festival is important because it''s hosted by the Lustrous Sky Clan." He gestured toward the golden pagoda piercing the clouds. "They control the entire mountain and nearby region and resource points. Their word is law here." North nodded slowly, listening very carefully. "That''s why young masters from various clans, tribes, and sects are pouring in from all over. See those ships anchored in the sky?" Fatty pointed to massive vessels floating among the clouds, their hulls decorated with clan insignias. To be honest, the sight of the magnificent ship floating above the clouds alone caused him to stop breathing. "Each one carries another faction''s prideful genius." To the North, this sounded like a prime disaster waiting to happen. "At the end of the Festival," Fatty continued, his voice dropping lower, "there''s the Four Seasons Banquet." North frowned. "Sounds fancy." "It''s not just fancy," Fatty said seriously. "It''s a competition. The Lustrous Sky Clan picks four people from the young generation based on their strength, skills, talent, and other qualifications." He held up four fingers, each one trailing a faint wisp of qi. "These four are given the titles of Winter, Spring, Summer, and Autumn." North raised a brow. "What''s the point?" Fatty shrugged, but his casual gesture belied the weight of his words. "Influence. Prestige. Being chosen as one of the Four Seasons basically guarantees a high position in the Visionary world. It means you''re recognized as one of the strongest and most talented Visionaries of your generation. Last year''s Winter was already challenging elders one level above him." North slowly processed that information, watching another flying ship dock above the city. "So," he said, thinking aloud, "the strongest young Visionaries from all the top factions are going to one location to fight for titles, glory, and recognition." North was about to wash his hands of this entire situation until Fatty dropped the final piece of information. "Yue Linxi will definitely attend." North glanced at the pink crystal above Fatty''s head. Fatty''s expression darkened. "She''s not just beautiful. She''s powerful. And she has backing. She''s the kind of person who wouldn''t miss an opportunity like this." He gritted his teeth, "She''s got something planned. I know it. I don''t know what it is yet, but it involves Li Yi. And if it''s a scheme that could hurt him¡­I want to stop it before it happens." North exhaled slowly. He had been expecting Fatty to throw away his friendship with Li Yi. But instead, he was still looking out for him. Even after being rejected. Even after being pushed away. Even after knowing Li Yi wouldn''t believe him. Fatty still wanted to protect him. North''s lips twitched slightly. "Man," he muttered under his breath. "These NPCs really do live up to their trope." ¡­ After that, Fatty seemed to make up his mind and suddenly started sauntering toward the line where guards were checking identification and collecting fees for entrance. North could only watch his broad back disappear into the crowd, the realization slowly dawning that Fatty hadn''t even asked him anything. Well, that''s awkward... At least he should have thanked me if not asking me to come with him. Tsk! Tsk! Acting too smart never helps anyone. North¡¯s face continued to fall as he saw Fatty pull out a jade identity slip and hand over two nether coins like it was nothing. The guards barely even looked at him. The moment his payment was taken, Fatty was waved through the checkpoint like a normal, law-abiding citizen. North felt his eye twitch violently. The pink crystal above Fatty''s head flickered once before disappearing into the crowd. North smacked his hand against his thigh in frustration. Now he really needed to find some other method to get in. "I actually thought befriending him would help," he muttered under his breath. He had genuinely believed that maybe, just maybe, Fatty would at least casually gesture him over or come up with some convenient excuse to bring him along. But no. Fatty wasn¡¯t that stupid. He wasn¡¯t about to risk his own pass for some random guy he just met. And honestly? North couldn¡¯t blame him. I wouldn¡¯t help me either. Still, North felt these Npcs acted too smart. He walked back to the wall, leaning against the cool stone. Now, he was back to where he started. Waiting for something to happen. And given his Base Template¡­ Something would definitely happen. He just had to be patient. Also, the Festival of Seasons did intrigue him; a chance to see how his NPC geniuses performed in person. Of course, keeping himself safe wouldn''t be a problem if he just tread carefully. The predicaments might be falling from the sky for me, but if I sidestep at the right moment, I should be able to stay relatively safe¡­ Though, his current situation was far from ideal¡ªno home, no proper clothes to blend in with the crowd, and no resources. His problems were piling up.
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He ignored the glaring red warning and watched another group of young masters stride through the checkpoint, their robes pristine and jade slips glinting in the sun. Samewhile mentally organizing his priorities. [PROBLEMS] ? Checkpoint Access ¨C No ID, No Money. ? No Food ¨C Would starve soon. ? No Shelter ¨C Can¡¯t sleep on the streets forever. ? Clothes Stand Out ¨C His hoodie and jeans weren¡¯t helping. All of it boiled down to one thing. [I Need the Damn Money.] But for now, first thing¡¯s first. Getting past the damn checkpoint. North exhaled sharply. "Alright," he muttered. "Time to get creative." He straightened his posture, rolled his shoulders, and casually scanned his surroundings. Something would happen soon. It always did. Now¡­ the question was what kind of disaster would show up first. ¡­ A line of supply carts was entering through a side gate, considerably less grand than the main entrance. Workers hauled crates and baskets, while merchants argued with guards over documentation. "You want how many Rain coins per crate?" A worker''s voice rose above the general clamor. "Not worth the risk! That stuff makes normal people sick!" North''s attention sharpened. The merchant, a round-faced man in expensive but practical robes, was growing increasingly frustrated as workers walked away from his cart. "It''s just festival decorations!" the merchant called out. "Simple spirit-infused lanterns! They''re perfectly safe!" Festival decorations? North straightened. Now that was something worth paying attention to. Immediately, North¡¯s brain clicked into place. [This is my chance.] If he played this right, he could get paid while also getting inside the festival. Now, he just needed to approach without looking suspicious. North took a deep breath, schooling his features into a mix of mild curiosity and clueless commoner. Then, he carefully approached the merchant. "Uh, excuse me," he said, carefully pitching his voice to sound just a little hesitant. The merchant supervisor spun around, his expression already one of annoyance¡ªuntil he noticed North. North had deliberately kept his hoodie pulled slightly up, shadowing his features just enough to make himself seem like an average laborer. "Who are you?" the merchant demanded, eyeing him suspiciously, especially given North''s face and his strange clothes. North scratched the back of his head, pretending to be nervous. "I''m new to the city," he said. "I overheard you needed help?" The merchant scowled. "And why should I hire some random passerby?" North shrugged, keeping his expression humble. "I¡¯m just a commoner from a village near the mountains," he lied smoothly. "Came to the city hoping to make some money. I don¡¯t have much, so I¡¯m not picky about the job." He spread his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "Just thought if you were still short on workers, I could lend a hand and early some for my survival." The merchant hesitated. North could see the internal calculations happening. Finally, the merchant let out a deep sigh. "Fine," he said, rubbing his forehead. "As long as you don¡¯t run away screaming. Can you read the warning talismans?" North nodded, the warning talismans were simple color-coded tags to prevent workers from mixing incompatible stuff. "I can manage that much."
[Temporary Job Acquired: Festival Worker]
"Pay is at the end of the day," the merchant continued, rubbing his temples. "We¡¯re handling decorations for some of the Festival of Seasons¡ªspecifically, the hanging lanterns and spirit inscriptions in the Plum Gardens. Young masters from every nearby major sect and clans will be there ¨C can''t have the place looking shabby.." As if to emphasize his point, a flying ship drifted overhead, its sails emblazoned with the crest of some distant sect. More people were arriving for the festival. ¡°Oh,¡± North was a little surprised that his wish had come true so early. He mused: [Current Funds: 0] [Soon-to-be Funds: More than 0] "What''s the pay?" North asked, keeping his tone neutral. The merchant grunted, barely sparing him a glance. "Five Nether Coins per shift." North paused. Five. That sounded small. Very small. He had no idea how much a Nether Coins was actually worth, but from the merchant¡¯s indifferent tone, it probably wasn¡¯t much. Could he even buy food with that? Would he end up working for an entire day just to afford half a steamed bun? His stomach twisted at the thought. But reality was cruel¡ªhe needed money. Any money. If he wanted to pass through the checkpoint, he had no other choice. North exhaled sharply, pushing down his doubts. "I''ll do it." The merchant eyed him for another second, "Good," he said. "Get to work, I don¡¯t pay people standing doing nothing. The faster this gets done, the faster I stop losing money." North smiled wryly and made his way toward the group of workers gathered beside a dozen or so massive carriages, each one loaded to the brim with goods. Some of the men were busy soothing restless beasts, keeping them from getting spooked by the bustling checkpoint. Others stood around idly, arms crossed, waiting for the tedious documentation process to be completed This is my life now. A once-successful programmer, now reduced to general labor. What a drop. North fell in line with two dozen other workers, trudging forward as they began passing through the checkpoint. He had been tense the entire time, half-expecting some overzealous guard to stop him, demand identification, or worse¡ªask for a name that didn¡¯t exist in the system. But no. The workers belonged to the merchant¡¯s party, and apparently, that was enough. No lists. No checks. Just a wave-through. The merchant had cleared everything in advance, a small miracle in a world that seemed designed to screw him over at every turn. North sighed. And here I was, overthinking everything The moment they crossed the checkpoint, North noticed a difference. It was subtle at first¡ªjust a change in the air, the feeling of the space around him. But the deeper they walked, the more obvious it became. The streets were spotless. Unlike the outer city, where dirt roads were uneven and littered with the dust of trade and travel, the streets here were smooth, paved with polished stone that reflected the sunlight faintly. The architecture was grander, more refined. Multi-story residences stood tall, their rooftops curved elegantly, adorned with ornate carvings of celestial beasts and flowing clouds. The air smelled different. The smoky aroma of street vendors and the musty scent of cheap taverns were gone. Instead, he caught hints of burning incense, medicinal herbs, and faint floral perfumes. This wasn¡¯t a market district anymore. This was a residential area and also the inner section of the Lustrous Sky Clan. Despite the shift in environment, there was still a steady flow of people on the road. Clan or sect disciples in long robes moved in small groups, carrying jade slips and scrolls. Merchants with well-fed bellies rode past in luxurious carriages, their servants walking beside them. Armored guards patrolled the roads, their spears polished, their postures upright and disciplined. Unlike the guards at the checkpoint, these ones were clearly trained professionals. Occasionally, a young master or noble lady would stride by, accompanied by bodyguards and attendants. Meanwhile, No one loitered. No one yelled out sales pitches. Even the servants of noble houses carried themselves with a sense of order. As North walked quietly, he let his gaze drift casually while keeping his ears open. The workers around him were relaxed, but chatty. And people who talked freely and comfortably often let valuable things slip. "¡ªlost the entire shipment," a worker ahead of him muttered. "Third one this month." "The beast tide''s getting worse," another replied, shifting his crate nervously. "My cousin works the western routes. Says they lost thirty percent of their goods this season. The wild beasts are acting strange, moving in larger groups." "Heard it''s because of that thing the Wang Clan''s young master stirred up in the Dark Forest." "Shh! Don''t talk about Young Master Wang. He''s here for the festival, you know." The conversation shifted as they passed a particularly impressive mansion. "Speaking of young masters, you hear about the new genius from Frost Peak?" "The one who became Rank 4 Visionary before turning twenty three? Yeah, they say he''s favored for the Winter position." "No, no, I mean the really interesting one. That girl who came out of nowhere. Beat three inner disciples of the Azure Cloud Sect in succession." "Oh, Ming Yue? They say she uses some kind of sound technique. Makes people explode just by humming." One of the older workers, a man with graying hair, chuckled. "You lot are too focused on the obvious choices." The younger workers looked at him curiously. "What do you mean, Old Liu?" The older worker smirked. "I mean, everyone¡¯s talking about the same clan heirs and sect geniuses. But there¡¯s another name floating around." The men leaned in slightly. "Who?" The older worker grinned. "Some nobody rogue Visionary from the western territories. No big background, no major affiliations." "Then why bring him up?" "Because," Old Liu said with amusement, "he¡¯s been challenging sect disciples and beating them. One after another. And not just any disciples¡ªinner disciples." That got everyone¡¯s attention. North¡¯s interest piqued as well. "Name?" one of the workers asked. Old Liu grinned. "His name is Ji Ruohan." Suddenly, a commotion up ahead drew their attention. A young man stood in their path, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the setting sun. His white robes seemed to absorb and reflect sunlight, creating a subtle aurora around his form. "That''s Young Master Jiang," someone whispered. "They say he became Rank 4 Visionary through sword images." North studied the newcomer young master carefully. Pure sword Image? This Jiang talked with the owner of the merchant for a few moments before quietly departing. "Keep up!" the merchant called from ahead. "We need to have everything in place before the moon rises!" ¡­ ¡­ Meanwhile, North compiled all the info he had heard so far: The wilderness is becoming more dangerous. Why? The Festival of Seasons is bringing in monsters, not just noble heirs. Many random rogue Visionaries are making waves. North mentally stored the information. At worst? It was just idle gossip. At best? It could help him predict who to avoid¡ªor who might become a problem later. Finally after thirty minutes of walking, the merchant party seemed to reach their final location. North had expected the Plum Gardens to be grand, considering it was the main venue of the Festival of Seasons, but what he saw was beyond anything he had imagined. It wasn¡¯t just a place. It seemed like a different world in itself. The moment they stepped past the outer boundary, the sky above them darkened. But it wasn¡¯t the gloom of night. It was a celestial expanse, a sky filled with glistening silver stars and deep purple hues, as if they had walked into a permanent twilight. A soft glow shimmered along the edges of the horizon, casting the entire garden in an dreamlike glow. North blinked. "Okay. This definitely doesn¡¯t look like a Garden." It was some kind of controlled domain. And considering who was hosting this event?
[Blessed Land Detected: Lustrous Sky Clan''s Celestial Mirage]
North inhaled slowly, compiling the new info provided by the system. "So they made their own sky, huh?" A simulated world, inside another simulated world. How Odd! His eyes drifted upward, a colossal rock island, floating effortlessly in the sky above them. From its edge, a majestic waterfall cascaded downward, glowing faintly in the twilight radiance. The water didn¡¯t fall straight down. Instead, it moved with purpose, gently spilling from one floating miniature island to the next, creating a cascading network of silver-blue streams that eventually merged into a single, crystal-clear pond. From there, the water twisted into a thin stream, weaving serpent-like through the Plum Gardens, feeding into smaller creeks and pools. Cherry plum trees lined the winding paths, their branches heavy with blossoms that never seemed to fully fall. Instead, petals danced on air currents that moved with purposeful rhythm. Behind them, bamboo forests stretched into impossible distances, their green stalks occasionally chiming against each other with musical notes that seemed to harmonize with the falling water. Overhead, dancers rehearsed for the evening''s festivities, their bodies gliding through the air on invisible paths. The dancers moved like fairies, their silk robes trailing behind, their faces bearing the kind of beauty that made one unable to look away. North¡¯s jaw tightened slightly. The sheer power and control it would take to maintain something like this? The Lustrous Sky Clan wasn¡¯t just rich. They were showing off their power to the world. He also couldn¡¯t deny the sheer breathtaking beauty of it all. "Stop gawking!" the merchant and other bosses barked at the worker. "Everyone, remember your location and don¡¯t get lost. Also, we''re here to work, not admire." The relaxed atmosphere vanished. The workers immediately straightened, shifting into serious, no-nonsense mode. No chatting. No wandering. Just work. North picked up a crate like everyone else, blending into the crowd. And as he carried it inside, his thoughts swirled. Members of the Lustrous Sky Clan seemed to supervise the preparations, their robes marked with clouds that actually moved. A young woman with jade ornaments in her hair directed workers with graceful gestures. "The Winter pavilion needs frost essence lanterns," she called out. "Summer pavilion requires solar crystal arrays. Do not mix them.¡± North carefully placed frost essence lanterns along a path as he was directed. But, the gardens seemed to stretch forever, each turn revealing new wonders. A grove where glowing butterflies danced between trees dripping with spirit dew. A meditation area where stones floated in perfect formation. A tea house built over a pond where spirit fish drew patterns of good fortune with their movements. Some workers whispered prayers before handling particularly potent decorations. A group of dancers passed overhead, rehearsing a complex formation dance. Their movements left trails of light in the air, forming characters of blessing and fortune that lingered before fading. Their bodies and faces were indeed quite exquisite, as if they had been cherry picked. His thoughts trailed off as he watched nearby a young man casually adjust a few runes inside a formation with a gesture, shifting the flow of a nearby stream to better match the garden''s rhythm. As one job finished, the bosses began directing them to new areas, their voice now hushed with appropriate reverence. Night would fall soon¡ªthe real night, beyond this twilight¡ªand everything had to be perfect. After all, the gardens would host the most talented young Visionaries of the age. North placed another lantern, watching it suddenly glow in bright blue light with wisp of cold smoke thread bellowing out. Silently, he couldn''t help but wonder: how much his simple simulator world had evolved. It was far beyond his original design, what else in this world had taken on a life of its own? Can these people be called real? 1.6 [Installed Archetype: "Newbie Luck" → "Trash Transmigrator"] North didn''t realize how much time had passed until his body started to ache. For the past several hours, he had been running through different tasks, moving from one section of the Plum Gardens to another, carrying out duties that seemed simple on the surface but turned out to be exhausting in practice. His first job was arranging the spirit-infused lanterns along the main pathways leading toward the central festival area. But, each frost essence lantern had to be positioned exactly three steps apart, so they created patterns of snowflakes in the air between them. At first, North thought, ¡°Oh, this should be easy.¡± Then he made the mistake, placed two slightly too close together¡ªthe resulting dissonance made nearby area frost over instantly. "Careful!" the jade-ornament supervisor called out. "These aren''t mortal decorations. Everything must follow the formation paths!" After the lanterns, North was sent into the bamboo forest to help with cleaning up fallen leaves and trimming excess growth. This sounded easy. It wasn¡¯t. Bamboo leaves were everywhere. There was no single pile to collect¡ªjust endless layers of golden, crisp leaves that littered the forest floor. The bamboo itself was massive. Some stalks were as thick as tree trunks, rising toward the sky like green pillars supporting the heavens. Moreover, Some of the bamboo was imbued with Nether essence, making it more difficult to cut or clear. "Don''t disturb the dew on the living stalks," an older worker advised North. "That''s not water¡ªit''s distilled moonlight. A very precious resource for Visionaries proficient in illusions.¡± North paused, turning his gaze toward the stalks of bamboo swaying lightly in the night breeze. A single drop of luminescent liquid slid lazily down one of the stalks, leaving behind a faint glow. It shimmered like liquid silver.Then¡ª*before it could touch the ground¡ªa shadow darted in. Snap. A small bird-like creature snatched the droplet in its beak. North squinted. Wait. That wasn¡¯t a bird. Upon closer inspection, the creature¡¯s body was made up of wood gears subtly clicking beneath its silver feathers. Tiny runes glowed along its frame, shifting as it adjusted its grip on the droplet before taking off again into the night. A worker robot. North¡¯s brows furrowed. Mechanical birds harvesting liquid moonlight? This wasn¡¯t something he remembered coding. Another older worker chuckled as he handed North a special broom. "Careful," he said. "Some of the bamboo might move." North paused. "What do you mean, move?" The old man just grinned. "You''ll see." North sighed and got to work. Sure enough¡ªafter clearing a small area of leaves, one of the bamboo stalks subtly shifted, as if adjusting itself. North stopped, staring. It was like the forest itself was alive. Still, he kept at it, clearing paths through the grove, picking up stray branches, and making sure the grounds were pristine. By the time he was done, his arms ached, his back was sore, and he had a newfound respect for landscapers. Then North and a few other workers were tasked with sweeping away any remaining dust or debris, polishing the jade tiles, and helping set up small tables for decorations. It was menial work, but necessary. He could already picture how it would look at night, under the glowing lanterns, with noble heirs and young masters seated together in a gathering. He could imagine the performances that would take place¡ªthe dancers, the musicians, the fireworks. Gradually, the work grew more hard and kind of esoteric as the day progressed. They cleaned spirit fountains where the water flowed upward. Pruned branches on the floating islands. "Those are heart stones," an worker explained when North jumped at finding a path had rearranged itself. "They align with the Visionaries heart. Best not to think too hard about where they go." A part of North was genuinely impressed by the things he saw (As he had coded a lot of famous items and elements and remembered them). Another part of him was just wondering how much longer they were going to make him work. At some point, without realizing it, the sun had disappeared. The twilight sky had deepened, the Plum Gardens now fully bathed in its starry night glow. North blinked. He had been so caught up in the endless tasks that he hadn¡¯t even noticed time slipping by. The other workers seemed to realize it at the same moment. A supervisor clapped his hands. "Alright, that¡¯s enough!" he called out. "Festival starts in an hour¡ªwe¡¯re done for the day. Line up for your pay." A collective sigh of relief passed through the workers. North rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. Finally. The workers formed a line, stepping up one by one to receive their earned wages. North stood somewhere in the middle, arms crossed, watching as the merchant¡¯s assistants handed out small pouches. One worker in front of him chuckled, stretching his back. "Didn¡¯t even notice how tired I was." "Same," another worker muttered, rolling his shoulders with a groan. "Feels like my legs are gonna fall off." Another sighed heavily. "Especially the Floating Isles. Those did a number on me. I was so scared to open my eyes at that height." He shuddered at the memory. "I don¡¯t know how those young masters just fly around like it¡¯s nothing. It''s... it''s terrifying." A few others nodded in agreement, some chuckling, others grimacing at their own experiences. Clearly, not everyone was cut out for soaring through the skies like a sword-wielding demigod. North also agreed. What more, for the first time since arriving in this world, he felt¡­ normal. No insane plots. No assassins. No young masters. Just a guy earning his damn pay. Of course, he wasn¡¯t stupid to stop being cautious. When his turn came, the assistant barely glanced at him before tossing a small pouch into his hand. "Five Nether Coins," the assistant muttered, already moving on to the next worker. North nodded and stepped aside, loosening the drawstrings. He was curious and happy. This was his first time seeing Nether Coins in person. The moment he tipped the pouch over, the coins slid into his palm. North¡¯s brows lifted slightly. These are different, he thought, holding one up for inspection. On his computer screen, Nether Coins had been simple purple circles with some basic effects. But these... these were something else entirely. They weren¡¯t ordinary metal currency. Each Nether Coin was transparent, like a gemstone, yet somehow more¡­ fluid, alive. Inside their deep violet core, faint wisps of something¡ªalmost like tiny swirling shadows¡ªmoved constantly. They were cold to the touch, sending a slight tingling sensation through his fingers as he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger. North inspected them for a long time, flipping them over, watching the way the light refracted through their cores. "Strange¡­" he muttered. But before he could overthink it, he sighed, shook his head, and pocketed them. He had bigger concerns. By the time North exited the Plum Gardens, the evening sky had deepened into rich hues of red, orange, and purple. The soft glow of spirit lanterns now fully illuminated the festival grounds behind him, their gentle shimmer dancing across the reflective pathways. Outside the main gates, the city was still alive¡ªvendors selling food, groups of workers chatting, clan''s disciples walking in pairs, their robes fluttering in the cool evening breeze. But for North? There was only one thing on his mind now. Deliver Wei¡¯s Letter to Yun Jian at the Golden Feather Pavilion. North clicked his tongue, glancing around. Where the hell was the Golden Feather Pavilion? He knew it was inside the Inner City, but he had no clue where exactly. He thought back to the bits of conversation he had picked up from other workers earlier. The Lustrous Sky Clan is divided into three areas.: Outer City ¨C Where commoners, merchants, and most visitors stayed. Inner City ¨C Where he currently was. Home to respected sect disciples, lesser noble houses, and affiliated clans. Core Clan Area ¨C Private and restricted. Only direct members of the Lustrous Sky Clan could enter. The Golden Feather Pavilion had to be somewhere in the Inner City. But that didn¡¯t narrow it down much and it left a lot of ground to cover when night was falling fast. North watched other workers heading toward inns for the night rest and drinking, their earnings safely tucked away. He needed to move quickly¡ªdeliver the letter, get his Fate Token, and somehow become a Visionary before his tax came due and surreal charm got him killed. The alternative wasn''t something he wanted to contemplate. He stepped onto the market road, immediately immersed in a bustling, vibrant scene. Despite the late hour, the Inner City was far from quiet. If anything, it seemed even more alive at night¡ªthough the character of the crowd had shifted from day laborers to more refined evening clientele. Further, the street was lined with lantern-lit stalls, glowing in shades of blue, red, and gold, casting soft reflections across the polished stone pathways. A rich aroma filled the air¡ªsizzling skewers of spirit beast meat, freshly brewed herbal teas, and the faint, sweet scent of pastries. Street performers played lute-like instruments, their melodies blending with the constant murmur of merchants haggling with customers. North tucked his hands into his sleeves, walking at a steady, unhurried pace. Got to be careful who I ask, North thought, scanning faces in the crowd. He had one goal¡ªfinding the Golden Feather Pavilion. But asking just anyone could get him into unnecessary trouble. So, he took his time. He observed. He watched a young master nearly execute a merchant for suggesting his jade ornament wasn''t authentic. Three streets over, someone got thrown through a wall for accidentally brushing against a woman''s sleeve. North kept walking, cataloging the types of people he encountered. The merchant selling candied spirit fruits? Too busy arguing with a customer about prices. The muscled cultivator with three swords? Definitely not. The old woman feeding spirit birds? She''d launched into a thirty-minute lecture when someone else asked her a simple question. Time slipped by as he wove through the market, passing by jewelers, artifact forgers, and talisman shops. The scent of sizzling street food drifted through the air, making his stomach grumble in protest. Every so often, he stopped to ask for directions. To his surprise, the locals were actually helpful. No sneers, no racist insults, no ridiculous accusations of him being an undercover demonic cultivator. Just normal Npcs giving normal answers. North almost felt suspicious. Had he stumbled into the only sane part of this world? Finally, for walking over an hour, slowly gathering clues. He saw it. The building stood tall, constructed from dark golden wood, with intricate carvings of phoenix feathers along its outer walls. The entrance was wide, its massive double doors left open, revealing a well-lit interior that glowed with soft golden light. A large inscribed plaque above the entrance bore the elegant words: [Golden Feather Pavilion ¨C Where Fortunes Rise & Fall] North stared at it for a long moment. And then sighed. "An auction house," he muttered under his breath. "How original." Seriously. Of course, it had to be an auction house. There was no way it could have been a quiet tea house or a normal messenger hall. Still, he wasn¡¯t here to buy anything, he was as poor as a newborn child into the world. The two men standing at the entrance were monsters in human form. Each was built like an armored ox, their broad chests covered in formal uniforms bearing the golden feather insignia. One had a jagged scar running down his jaw, while the other looked like he could crush a boulder with his bare hands. North glanced down at his own and resisted the urge to sigh. He already knew how this would go. They¡¯d see his clothes¡ªthe dust-covered hoodie and slightly worn-out pants. They¡¯d smell the lingering sweat from working in the Plum Gardens all day. And then they¡¯d assume he was some random beggar who wandered here by mistake. This was going to be annoying. Still¡­ he had no choice. He climbed the stairs slowly, keeping his hands visible. The guards'' eyes tracked his movement, their expressions shifting from boredom to mild disdain. "The Golden Feather Pavillion is closed," the left guard said before North could even open his mouth. "Next opening is the seventh day of the month." "Right, I figured," North said, keeping his tone neutral, not overly friendly, not apologetic. "But I¡¯m not here for the auction." Scarface raised an eyebrow, finally giving him a proper look. North noticed the brief flicker of disgust as the guard¡¯s eyes traveled over his dusty clothes. "Uh-huh," Scarface drawled, unimpressed. "Then what do you want?"This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. North straightened slightly, deciding to keep this simple. "I have a letter for Yun Jian," he said, tapping his sleeve where the envelope was tucked. "From Old Wei.¡± That got a reaction. Scarface¡¯s bored expression sharpened slightly. The second guard grunted. "Old Wei, huh?" Scarface muttered, rubbing his jaw as if trying to remember. North caught the subtle shift in posture¡ªthey had gone from uninterested to mildly attentive. Which meant Quest Giver Wei wasn¡¯t just some random character to them or others. Interesting. The second guard leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "And why," he asked slowly, "would Wei send someone like you?" North resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yep. There it was. The "you look too poor or different to be here" assumption. He kept his face blank but slight irritation in his voice. "Why don¡¯t you ask him yourself?" North said flatly. "I¡¯m just the delivery guy." Scarface exchanged glances with the second guard. For a moment, North thought they might actually tell him to get lost. Then, Scarface let out a frustrated sigh, shifting his halberd aside. "Wait here," he muttered, turning toward the side entrance. Scarface stepped inside, vanishing behind the heavy wooden doors, leaving North alone with the second guard. Scarface reappeared, "Yun Jian will see you now." North exhaled slowly. Without another word, Scarface turned and motioned for him to follow. North stepped inside. He was led down a dimly lit corridor, the golden glow from the lamps casting long shadows on the lacquered wooden walls. Scarface didn¡¯t say a word, merely stopping in front of a large set of ornate doors, then pushing them open. "Go in." North braced himself and stepped forward. Inside, the space was surprisingly simple. A large, circular room, lined with shelves filled with rare artifacts, scrolls, and sealed jade slips. At its center, a low wooden table sat atop an expensive rug, two chairs placed on either side. And behind that table¡ªSat Yun Jian. Yun Jian wasn¡¯t what North had expected. He was broad-shouldered but lean, dressed in dark red robes lined with faint golden embroidery. His hair was loosely tied back, revealing sharp, well-defined features, and dark, unreadable eyes. Moreover, despite the refined elegance of the room, Yun Jian didn¡¯t seem like a businessman. Not entirely. Because the moment North looked at him¡ªhe felt it. Pressure. Not physical. Not like the oppressive presence of an arrogant young master trying to flaunt their power. This was deeper. Sharper. Controlled. It wasn¡¯t just power¡ªit was the presence of someone who had crossed a line very few ever reached.
[Template Analysis: Unable to Process]
Likely Rank Five¡­ or Higher! Yun Jian didn¡¯t speak immediately. Instead, he lifted a delicate porcelain cup, swirling the dark red wine within it. The scent was rich, aged, refined. With a calm motion, he took a slow sip, then finally motioned toward the chair in front of him. "Take a seat." North hesitated only for a second before complying. "So," he said, setting his cup down, "Wei sent you." North met his gaze, keeping his voice even. "Yeah. He told me to deliver something." Yun Jian¡¯s eyes glinted faintly. "Hm. And you agreed just like that?" North tilted his head slightly. "It was a job." A flicker of amusement passed through Yun Jian¡¯s expression, which North couldn¡¯t understand. He was a noob, he quickly realized in many matters at that. He shook his head internally, making a mental note for gathering more enough. Thereafter, he simply reached into his sleeve, pulling out the sealed letter. "Here," he said simply. He placed it on the table between them. For a moment, Yun Jian simply stared at it, his fingers tapping lightly against the wooden surface. Then, slowly, he reached forward, taking the letter into his hands. North exhaled internally.
[Quest Completed: Deliver Wei''s Letter to Yun Jian]
Now, there was only one thing left. North leaned back slightly. "So," he said, "I assume this is where I get my payment?" He watched as Yun Jian placed the letter aside without even opening it. Not a single flicker of interest or concern. As if whatever was inside wasn¡¯t urgent, or he already knew what it contained. Instead, the man simply lifted his wine cup again, taking a slow sip before resting his elbow against the table, "what did Old Wei promise you as payment?" North didn¡¯t hesitate. "A Fate Token." For a brief second, Yun Jian raised his burrow in a mild interest. North didn¡¯t react. He had already expected this. Most true visionaries used Fate Token at a young age. Then, Yun Jian simply set his wine cup down and glanced toward the door. "Call for Ruolan," he ordered. A few seconds later, a soft knock echoed through the quiet office. The heavy doors creaked open, and a woman stepped inside. She was tall, poised, and dressed in a refined indigo robe, her hair neatly tied into a flowing braid. Her sharp features and calm demeanor immediately suggested someone of efficiency and authority. North knew the type. High-Ranking Servant: Prefers efficiency, dislikes wasting time. Yun Jian glanced at her. "Retrieve a Fate Token." The woman¡ªRuolan¡ªbarely hesitated. "Yes, Master Yun," she said smoothly, bowing before immediately turning and exiting. She moved fast. Efficient. Professional. North sat there, suddenly very aware of how awkwardly silent the room had become. Yun Jian didn¡¯t say anything. Just picked up his wine again, sipping slowly. North felt the man was utterly bored. "You like to drink?" Yun Jian glanced at him. North shook his head. "Not really." Yun Jian simply hummed, swirling his wine lazily. And then¡­ silence again. A few minutes later, Ruolan returned. This time, she was carrying a small jade box. She walked gracefully toward the table, stopping beside North. Her nose wrinkled slightly. North didn¡¯t miss it. He also didn¡¯t care. He had been working all day, carrying crates, clearing bamboo groves, handling spirit lanterns. Of course, he smelled like dirt, sweat. Instead of reacting, he simply extended his hand, taking the jade box from her grasp. Ruolan withdrew quickly, as if not wanting to stand too close. North shook his head internally, he needed to take a bath and book a resting place for the night next. Luckily he had earned some money and hopefully, it¡¯ll be enough for the night. Still, his focus shifted instantly to the object. His hands trembled slightly as he opened it. Inside lay exactly what he''d spent countless hours programming into his game: a Fate Token. The translucent crystal orb sat in velvet padding, and within it, a miniature golden thread seemed to dance and twist of its own accord. It was exactly as he''d designed it, yet somehow more real, more significant than anything he''d ever rendered on his computer screen.
[Item Analysis: Fate Token] [Status: Authentic] [Function: Visionary Catalyst/Template Modifier]
I made you, he thought, staring at the golden thread, his fingers brushing over the surface. But like everything else here, you''ve become something more than just code. Originally, the Simulator had been nothing more than an open-source project¡ªa blank framework developed by some kind-hearted programmer and uploaded for the open-source community to play around with, modify, and expand however they pleased. Thus at first, it had been a collaborative effort, and a community of coders came together to experiment with world-building, mechanics, and magical systems. Anyone could add whatever they wanted¡ªnew kingdom, absurdly overpowered techniques, ridiculous plotlines, even entire realms filled with bizarre logic. But over time, the project fell into obscurity, abandoned as trends shifted and newer, shinier projects took over. That¡¯s when North forked it into his private server. What had started as a community experiment became his personal playground. He privatized the project, taking full control, rewriting vast portions of the code, and turning it into something uniquely his own. For years, he tweaked, adjusted, and refined the world, crafting elaborate mechanics, devious plot triggers, and let¡¯s-be-honest-this-is-rigged difficulty settings¡ªall for his own amusement. Thus, he was very well aware of many common if not most of the items inside. He also knew how they worked. And now he was holding one of the most important or legacy items for the first time. It felt unique and strangely attractive to look at. Across the table, Yun Jian watched him quietly. Not saying anything. Just studying. Perhaps he was too bored, or maybe he just wanted to stare at North¡¯s out of place face, wondering where this man had come from. North carefully closed the jade box, tucking it into his sleeve. "Alright," he said, leaning back slightly. "That¡¯s done." He tucked the jade box securely inside his pocket, ensuring the Fate Token was protected. He had waited long enough for this¡ªthere was no way he was going to let some random street thief or unexpected accident take it from him. Standing up from his seat, he gave Yun Jian a slight nod. "Thanks for this," he said, keeping his tone neutral. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode toward the exit. The doors to the Golden Feather Pavilion shut behind him with a soft thud, and North finally felt like he could breathe properly again in the cold air. The streets of the Inner City were still lively due to the ongoing festival. Colorful lanterns swayed overhead, casting warm light onto the bustling roads, while distant laughter and the rhythmic beat of festival drums echoed through the air. But North was too exhausted to even consider stopping at Plum Gardens to catch a glimpse of four seasons. What¡¯s more, the guards at the entrance might not even let him in in his current state. Dust-covered, sore, and visibly drained, he didn¡¯t exactly look like someone who belonged in the Inner City. He exhaled slowly, stretching his aching shoulders. It had been a long day. He already knew where he was heading. During a water break in the Plum Gardens, he''d asked one of his fellow laborers about lodging. "Most of us stay at the Dancing Carp Inn," the worker had said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Cheap beds, decent food, and the owner doesn''t ask questions as long as you pay up front." As North strolled, his mind drifted, subconsciously comparing this world to Earth. In some ways, they were similar. But in many ways¡­ this world was alien. Despite how tempting it was to take one of the unique public transports, North resisted. Because everything cost money. So, he walked. For over an hour and a half. By the time he reached the district where the Dancing Carp Inn was located, his legs were sore, his back ached, and his feet felt like they¡¯d been through a battlefield. But at least he made it safely. Rather than entering Dancing Carp, North looked around for a quieter alternative nearby. The reason was simple: Because of it being cheaper than other places in the Inner City, it catered to laborers and low-ranking merchants. That meant two things:
  1. It was affordable.
  2. It was loud and packed.
North didn¡¯t hate the idea of a rowdy environment, but for safety reasons, he decided to stay in another nearby inn instead. If something stupid happened overnight¡ªlike some drunk worker getting into a brawl¡ªhe didn¡¯t want to be caught in it. It didn¡¯t take long. A smaller establishment, the Silver Blossom Inn, sat just a short walk away. It was older, but it looked clean and had an open sign hanging outside. But as North stepped inside, immediately, his nose was hit with the thick, alcohol-laced air. The warm scent of fermented drinks, grilled meat, and the faint trace of sweat from too many people crammed into one place assaulted his senses. The inn was packed to the brim. Despite his best efforts to avoid large crowds, he had walked straight into one. Alas¡­ It was festival season, and there was nothing he could do about it¡ªexcept grumble and suffer. The innkeeper, a middle-aged man with a graying beard, looked up from behind the counter. "Need a room?" "Yeah. A private one," North said, placing his pouch of Nether Coins on the counter. "Also a warm bath. And food." The man grunted, scratching his chin. "Bath and food come with the room. How long you staying?" "Just the night." The innkeeper nodded. "That¡¯ll be fifty copper tales or half a Nether Coin." North handed over one full Nether Coin, and the man quickly counted out copper currency that clinked heavily in North''s palm. So that''s the exchange rate, North thought, mentally noting how a Nether Coin was worth. As he inspected the coins, he also realized something very interesting. Due to working at Plum Gardens, his pay had been three times higher than standard labor wages. That meant he had been paid a very generous sum for a single day¡¯s work. If he had been working normal jobs, his pay for that day would have been barely a fraction of what he earned. North chuckled. So, he had basically been overpaid. Nice. A young servant led him to his room on the second floor. It was small but clean, with a window overlooking the street and a bed that looked impossibly inviting after his long day. "Bath will be ready in a quarter hour," the servant said. "Food shortly after. Would sir prefer the wine now or with dinner?" "With dinner is fine," North replied, already imagining how good it would feel to be clean. His food arrived shortly after¡ªa hot plate of roasted beast meat, some fragrant rice, and a small side of preserved vegetables. A jug of cheap wine was placed on the table as well. North sat down, stretching his sore legs as he poured himself a cup of wine. As he took a sip, he mentally ran through his plans. [Current Status:] ? He had money. ? He had shelter. ? He had food. ? And most importantly¡­ he had the Fate Token. In one day, he had accomplished a lit and after tonight, he would no longer be just a bystander in this world. He would become a Visionary. A slow grin spread across his lips. "Time to make things interesting." He lifted the cup of wine, took a final sip, then locked the door. It was time.
[System Alert: Base Template "Newbie Luck" Expiring] [Warning: Your current Archetype will be soon transition.]
[Installed Archetype: "Newbie Luck" ¡ú "Trash Transmigrator"]
[Recommendation: Find and install a new Template immediately.]
North stared at the glowing text, blinking slowly. "Well¡­ shit." 1.7 [Future Template: Probably Delicious]
[System Alert: Base Template "Newbie Luck" Expiring] [Warning: Your current Archetype will be soon transition.]
[Installed Archetype: "Newbie Luck" ¡ú "Trash Transmigrator"]
[Recommendation: Find and install a new Template immediately.]
North stared at the glowing text floating before his eyes. Slowly, he placed his cup of wine back on the table, exhaling through his nose. His fingers twitched slightly, but he otherwise remained still. For a full five seconds. Then, finally, he muttered under his breath¡ª "I would greatly appreciate it if (you) so-called System actually explained things properly instead of just throwing cryptic half-assed warnings at me." His voice was calm. Too calm. Which meant he was definitely about to lose his patience. Because, honestly? What was he even supposed to do with this information? [Base Template "Newbie Luck" Expiring Soon] [New Template: Trash Transmigrator] ¡­Excuse me? Was this thing trying to humiliate him?! "Tsk! Tsk!" North clicked his tongue, his expression twitching in irritation. First of all, what the hell was a "Trash Transmigrator" Template? That wasn¡¯t just bad-sounding. That was literally a death sentence. Because in every damn cultivation novel, simulator scenario, and LitRPG setting he had ever seen, the moment someone got labeled as "trash"¡­ They either died horribly or became the punching bag for arrogant young masters. And North? North had no interest in getting his face slammed into the ground for "character development." No, thank you very much. Furthermore, it couldn¡¯t have let him enjoy his meal in peace?! No, of course not. It just had to drop this bombshell right in the middle of his quiet moment of triumph. He had literally just gotten his Fate Token, just found a place to sleep, just figured out how the currency worked. And now? [System Alert: You Are Now Officially Trash] Perfect. Absolutely perfect. North sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can we at least talk about how I''m supposed to install a new Template?" No response. Of course. He flicked at the glowing text. It didn¡¯t react. He waited a few seconds. Still nothing. North exhaled deeply, rubbing his temples. "Fantastic," he muttered. "FUCK YOU." Still, no point sitting here complaining (even though he really, really wanted to). His new priority now was to figure out how to change his templates. The only problem? He had no idea how. The System sure as hell wasn¡¯t helping. And, unless a Template Store magically popped up in front of him, he was going to have to find answers himself. North leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "...I just know this is going to be annoying." He lifted the large mug and downed the entire drink in one gulp. The bitter taste of cheap wine burned slightly down his throat, but it was nothing he couldn¡¯t handle. Alcohol was alcohol. After that ridiculous System stunt, he definitely needed it. Still, he wasn¡¯t about to let some annoying notification ruin his dinner. He had worked too hard today¡ªhe wasn¡¯t about to collapse from exhaustion and hunger. So, pushing aside his frustration, he focused on the warm, fragrant meal before him. The roasted beast meat looked simple, but the moment North took a bite, his eyes widened slightly. Surprisingly good. Juicy, tender, with just the right amount of fat to melt on the tongue. A mix of deep, earthy spices blended into the meat, flavors he had never encountered back on Earth. The aroma itself was intoxicating, rich and smoky, making his stomach tighten in anticipation for the next bite. North chewed slowly, his eyes briefly closing from the pleasure of eating actual food. The warmth spread from his tongue straight to his mind and stomach, easing away the exhaustion he hadn¡¯t even realized was digging into his bones. For the first time today, he allowed himself to simply enjoy something. Just food. And it was damn good. He ate in comfortable silence, savoring every bite. By the time he was done, he leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly, letting the warmth settle in his stomach. Just then, a knock on the door. "Sir, I¡¯ve brought the hot water for your bath," a voice called from the other side. North stood up, stretching, already feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. "Come in," he said. The door creaked open, and a young male waiter stepped inside, carrying a large wooden bucket of steaming water. He moved efficiently, placing it inside the small washroom attached to the room before bowing slightly. "Also, I¡¯ll be taking the dishes," he added, glancing at the empty plates. "Yeah, go ahead," North muttered, rubbing his stiff neck. The waiter collected the utensils, gave him a polite nod, and stepped out. The moment the door closed behind the waiter, North was already stripping off his sticky clothes. He slipped into the hot water, and immediately his muscles began to relax. The warmth seemed to seep into his very bones, washing away the aches from a day of manual labor. To his surprise, there was even a crude soap-like substance provided¡ªanother detail he''d never bothered to program into his game. The NPCs developed basic hygiene on their own, he mused, working the soap into a lather. Probably should have seen that coming. Yet the pleasure of being clean brought a new problem into focus. As he stepped out of the bath, water dripping onto the wooden floor, he realized he had no change of clothes. North stood there, naked, dripping water onto the floor, staring at his ruined hoodie and jeans. "...Well, this sucks." With a resigned sigh, he grabbed his clothes, dunked them into the leftover bathwater, and began scrubbing. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but he wasn¡¯t about to walk around in sweat-soaked, dirt-covered clothes tomorrow. Once done, he wrung them out as best as he could, hanging them over the wooden chair near the small window. He could only hope they dried by morning. At least they should be dry by morning, he thought, Though this definitely wasn''t how I imagined spending my first night in new world. Finally, once every menial task was done, North picked up the box containing the Fate Token. His chance to become a Visionary at last. For a moment, he couldn''t believe how much he''d accomplished in one day. From nearly dying in an inn brawl to getting a job, earning money, delivering Wei¡¯s letter, receiving his first Fate Token. And now? Now, he would take the first real step toward survival. Somehow he''d managed to navigate this insane world he''d created. Slowly, he lifted the lid of the jade box. Inside, nestled atop a silken cushion, was the Fate Token. Even though he had programmed it himself, seeing it in reality was¡­ different. The token was small, delicate, about the size of a thumb, yet it carried a presence far larger than itself. It was a translucent crystal orb, perfectly smooth, but inside¡ªA single golden thread coiled and shimmered, shifting faintly, as if it were alive. North¡¯s eyes were drawn to it immediately. It was mesmerizing. The golden thread inside didn¡¯t just glow¡ªit pulsed, moving like a tiny fragment of the universe itself, twisting, stretching, reacting to unseen forces. Using it wasn''t complicated¡ªat least in theory. Just hold it until the thread of fate disappears. When North had programmed it, he''d designed it to react to a person''s luck & fate or or more simply, their potential to create chaos in the storyline. It would slowly merge with them, like two streams joining into a river. But seeing it now, feeling its weight in his hand, he understood more about what he''d actually created. The Fate Token represented something profound: the moment a person broke free from the bonds of ordinary existence. It was supposed to symbolize that finally, a person had control over their fate and was no longer bound by normal rules¡ªthey had the power to fight against heaven itself.
[Item Analysis: Fate Token Active] [Warning: Personal Fate Destabilizing] [Note: Template Modification Imminent]
North watched the golden thread inside the orb glow brighter, swirling like a living thing, but also slowly disappearing. And then, everything went dark. For a moment, North felt weightless, his mind pulled into the depths of something vast, something unknowable. The world split apart like a cracked mirror, fracturing into a thousand shards of possibility. And through those cracks, he saw. ... At the center of this grand space was a long table, endless and magnificent, carved from exquisite jade. Seated around it were thirteen figures, each one radiating power so deep, their very presence capable of shattering mountains. Immortals. They were powerful. Too powerful. Men and women dressed in flowing robes woven from stardust, their hands adorned with rings that pulsed with the very essence of world itself. They had faces that should have been familiar. But North could not recognize them. His disciples. His followers. His chosen? They raised goblets of golden liquid, their faces filled with reverence and devotion. "To our Lord!" "To the One Who Guides Us to Greatness!" "To Break Heaven''s laws.¡± ¡°To Ultimate Freedom.¡± They were waiting. At the head of the table, a man sat upon a throne carved from the very bones of fate itself. For the feast to begin. ¡­ ... ...You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The white moon overhead fsuddenly lickered violently, Then, it bled. A single red tear. Then another. And another. Until the sky itself wept blood, staining the world with something ancient, something monstrous. A single drop of blood fell onto the table. Then another. And another. The once cheerful faces of the people had changed. Their smiles were wider. Too wide. Their hands twitched, their fingers digging into the table as they leaned forward. Their lips parted, and their teeth glistened. They were starving. They tore into him, not with weapons, but with their hands, their teeth, their bare fingers digging deep into his flesh. His own voice faded beneath their laughter, beneath the sounds of wet tearing. The first, a woman with long silver hair, cracked open his skull, her fingers digging into his brain. "His thoughts become my thoughts," she sang, wisdom bleeding from her lips. Blood spilled down her chin, but she did not wipe it away. She swallowed, and as she did, her body trembled, shuddering with something indescribable. Ecstasy. As if she had consumed something divine. As if she had become something more. ¡°The arms that shaped world," The second, a man, moaned, tearing flesh from bone. "Let your strength become my strength!" "Your eyes," whispered another, his fingers diving deep. "Let me see as you see, let me witness through your divine vision!" The fourth plunged his hands into his chest, his fingers reaching into his ribs. "These lungs that breathed life into our world," he whispered, tearing through lungs. "Let me inhale your divine breath!" A fifth laughed hysterically, his expression one of pure euphoria, as he reached into his guts, his hands drenched in blood. Another ripped out his heart. Still beating. Still warm. Blood pooling on table. The immortal held it in both hands, trembling. Then, with blood dripping from his lips, he took a bite. The feast descended into madness. They did not hesitate. They could not stop. Each of them consumed a piece. Each of them devoured what remained. And they were laughing. Not with hatred. Not with cruelty. But with pure, unfiltered joy. ¡­ The vision flickered, the scene twisting into something darker, something deeper. His consciousness faded, his mind barely clinging to the last image. Twelve blood-drenched figures, their mouths still full of him. Their eyes, hollow yet glowing with joy & ecstasy. ¡­ ¡­ ¡­ North¡¯s unfocused eyes snapped back into focus, his breath hitching as a violent gasp tore from his throat. His body jerked, muscles tensing as if he¡¯d been yanked back into reality from somewhere far, far away. The Fate Token cold and dark in his trembling hand. His breathing was ragged, his heartbeat erratic. The golden thread had vanished, absorbed into his being. The contract was sealed. His fate was set. He stumbled to the window, bile rising in his throat. His body felt cold. North exhaled, running a shaky hand through his hair, inhaling a deep breath. "...What The FUCK did I just witnessed." ¡­
[Fate Token Absorbed] [Visionary Awakening: Completed.]
[System Alert: Base Template Archetype "Newbie Luck" Expired] [Installing New Base Template Archetype: "The Undefined"] *Due to your Undefined status, you may attempt to acquire new templates. Warning: Templates are not freely given. They must be earned through conditions or taken from others.
¡­ Ten minutes. ... North paced across the room, his bare feet pressing against the cold wooden floor, his mind racing with a thousand fragmented thoughts. His breath was uneven, his fingers twitching at his sides. Every few steps, he''d pause, run his hands through his hair, then resume his restless circuit. Finally, he dropped into the room''s only chair, trying to steady his breathing. He knew exactly what this vision meant¡ªhe''d coded this system himself, after all. The Fate Token always shows a significant piece of your future. Could be anything¡ªgood or bad¡ªbut it''s bound to happen¡­ He had coded the world this way himself. He had programmed it himself. He knew how it worked. The Fate Token Always Showed a person significant instance of their Future: It could be anything. Visionaries saw their fate. Their vision was their truth. It didn¡¯t matter if they liked it or not. And fate¡­ did not change easily. This was why Visionaries were so distinctive in their behavior. Some saw themselves achieving immortality and became arrogant. Others witnessed their own failures and grew cautious. A few saw their deaths and went mad trying to prevent the inevitable. But that was the cruel joke¡ªthe harder they tried to avoid their fated scene, the more certainly they walked toward it. North had designed it that way, another torture mechanism for his game''s NPCs. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. This was inevitable. He could try to avoid it, but fate would twist itself to make it happen. It was only a matter of time. If he didn¡¯t do something, his story would lead him directly to that bloody feast. North leaned back in the chair, his mind finally slowing down. Right. If the system worked as he designed it, then there had to be loopholes. Visionaries who changed their fate were rare¡­ but must have existed. If not, he had to become one. ... ... .... North narrowed his eyes. Right now, there seemed to be only three ways he knew of to alter a Fate Token''s prophecy. Find an External Fate Override. (Legendary artifacts, forbidden techniques, or powerful beings that could rewrite fate.) Gain Enough Power to Defy It. (If he became a monstrous existence beyond fate¡¯s grasp, he could force the fate to shift around him.) Find the Source of the Vision. (If he understood why this fate existed, he could dismantle it at the root.) The first two were long-term solutions. The third? That was something he could start on immediately. North sat up, his fingers drumming against the table. His vision had shown thirteen powerful people. Twelve future Visionaries. That meant¡­ They were either: Alive right now, still weak, unaware of their future role. On their own paths, destined to eventually meet him. If he could find them before they became his doom¡­ Maybe he could stop this future from happening. North exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. This world was not going to give him an easy way out. But if fate had already decided he was meant to be the feast¡­ Then he¡¯d just have to burn the table first. If this world wanted a villain? Fine. He¡¯d gladly become one. ¡­ ¡­ While lost in thought about his future, something else caught North''s attention¡ªan empty space in his consciousness, like a door waiting to be opened. In the simulator, he''d simply called it an Imaginary Island, a pocket dimension where Visionaries created and stored Images for their powers. But now... North suddenly stood somewhere else. A small, isolated space, no larger than a single room. The ground beneath him was solid earth, soft green grass swaying gently despite the absence of wind. Above, the sky stretched endlessly, an infinite expanse of nothing and everything. There was no sun. No source of light. Yet somehow, everything was illuminated, bathed in a soft, gentle glow. And at the edges, there was nothing. Not in the sense of emptiness, but in a way that felt absolute. The world simply ended at the border, a place where even his mind refused to comprehend what lay beyond. When he tried to look past the edges, his perception simply... stopped, as if his mind refused to process what lay beyond.
[Blessed Land Embryo: Imaginary Island]
So this is what it really looks like, he thought, turning slowly to take it all in. He knelt, touching the grass. It felt more vivid than anything in the physical world, as if each blade contained deeper truths about what ''grass'' truly was. This Imaginary Island could be said to be the real foundation of a Visionary¡¯s Strength. And every Visionary possessed one¡ªa personal domain where they cultivate their power It acted as both a resource and a weapon, shaped entirely by the Visionary¡¯s will. North took a few slow steps, feeling the soft texture of the grass beneath his feet. His Imaginary Island was tiny. That was expected, he was only Rank 1. For new Visionaries, their islands were barely formed, no larger than a simple courtyard or a small room. There were no walls. There was no depth beyond what he could see. There was nothing yet created. But the potential? That was limitless. Furthermore, as he became stronger, his island would grow, evolve, and expand, reflecting his development. "The benefits of this place..." he murmured, remembering the code he''d written. First and most crucial was the ability to create or store personal Images¡ªthe foundation of a Visionary''s power. Without an Image, a Visionary was powerless. But the space served another vital function: resource generation. Visionaries could cultivate materials, plants, and resources inside their island. If North wanted, he could start growing rice, herbs, or even trees inside. Then the Imaginary Island acted as a spatial storage. He could keep his possessions here, no longer needing a physical backpack or storage rings. However, his current Rank 1 status severely limited him. He could grow basic crops, but livestock wouldn¡¯t survive. He could store objects, but only a limited amount. He could walk, but couldn¡¯t fly or expand it yet. He could shape it¡ªbut only within small constraints. At higher ranks, an Imaginary Island could become massive, with landscapes as large as entire cities or entire continent. Right now? He had¡­ a room-sized patch of grass. Not exactly the realm of a god. Still, this was invaluable. North sat down cross-legged on the soft grass, taking a deep breath. First step¡ªhe needed an Image. Every Visionary required a conceptual foundation to manifest their power. Without it, all this Nether energy would be useless, like trying to build a house without a blueprint. He had two paths before him. The common route: buy an existing Image from the market, like ninety-nine percent of Visionaries did. And why wouldn''t they? Creating an original Image was like trying to leap over a mountain¡ªnearly impossible without profound understanding of Heavens or reality''s underlying principles. I should know, he thought grimly. I made it that hard on purpose. Creating an Image required deep comprehension of universal truths¡ªmatter, concepts, values, and countless other factors that worked in the background. When he''d coded this system, he''d made Image creation nearly impossible for most users, forcing them to rely on pre-made options. It had seemed like good game design at the time. North''s fingers dug into the grass of his Imaginary Island. If he still had his terminal, creating an Image would be as simple as typing a few lines of code. But here, trapped in his own game? He was bound by the same restrictions he''d placed on everyone else. His options further crystallized: the safe route¡ªbuy a complete Image from the market. It would be expensive, but reliable. His Imaginary Island would develop according to its established pattern. The riskier path¡ªbuy cheaper and household type Images and attempt to combine them into something new(powerful). It would be less expensive but far more dangerous. One mistake in the fusion process could shatter both Images and leave him worse than before: Broke. Still, what kind of Image should he buy? Traditional Visionaries crafted Images based on weapons, philosophies, elements, or concepts. Each path led to different types of power, different destinies. A Sword Saint might want to craft an Image of an Infinite Blade. A Scholar might want to craft an Image of a Library of Infinite Knowledge. A Tyrant might want to craft an Image of a Throne Overlooking the World. His fingers pressed into the grass further. He refused to be bound by a fate he didn''t choose. He needed to craft an Image that would break everything. An Image that would allow him to rewrite his future itself. North grinned slightly, despite everything. "If this world wants to turn me into a feast¡­" "Then let¡¯s see what happens when the meal gets up and walks away." For now, he had time¡ªtime to decide, time to plan.