"Don't jump! I'm saying it again—when the black water comes, don't jump! Everyone, press the spacebar! Type 1 if you understand! Hey guys! This is a sightseeing tour! Don't be so unprofessional!"
On the big screen, teammates' responses popped up in the chat box:
"111!"
"Are you guys stupid?! I said don't jump! Don't jump!"
"1112223!"
Ethan Cole rubbed the stiff muscles in his face, staring at a bouncing undead rogue on the screen, and said helplessly, "There's a mage who didn't press the spacebar—deduct ten points. Okay, everyone else get ready. Buffs all up."
He glanced at the time and realized it was already past eleven o'clock at night. Though it was Friday, it was still pretty late.
So he added into the microphone, "It's 11 PM. Let's do one more run. If we can't beat it, we'll disband and continue tomorrow. Type '1' if you agree."
"1"
"Let's beat this boss!"
"Let's try again tomorrow! 11"
Seeing everyone's agreement, Ethan controlled his game character—a Tauren Sunwalker (Paladin) with a golden cross mark—and walked to the center of the Icecrown platform. After everyone else gathered at the DPS positions on one side, he slammed a Vengeance Shield straight into Prince Arthas's face.
Five minutes later, he was killed by the giant zombie summoned by the Lich King, and his gray soul appeared in the graveyard outside Icecrown Citadel.
He tried to comfort himself by pressing his Tauren face against the angel's thigh. Looking at the gray figures appearing one after another around him, Ethan said in the group chat, "Disband... Tomorrow is still 7 PM sharp. We'll rejoin the group after dinner. No eating while running the dungeon."
As the team members left the group and went offline, he was soon the only one left.
He turned off voice chat and opened his inventory to take stock of the night's loot.
Friday night's raid was a guild run. Due to the loot system, his bag was filled with several unwanted purples and blues, plus his own spares, making his backpack completely full.
These unwanted items were usually reserved for the main tank as a perk—to be sold to vendors for repair money.
Besides equipment, Ethan's backpack also contained some ores and gems.
Armored monsters all dreamed of forging, and these unusable, unsellable, space-wasting items were the price of that dream.
There was also some gold from looting corpses along the way—not much, just a few thousand.
With this money, plus his previous savings, Ethan now had a total of 325,810 gold, 86 silver, and 25 copper.
"Sigh, being a main tank is really expensive. Sigh... I don't want to run anymore. I'll just resurrect."
According to World of Warcraft's rules, resurrecting directly at the angel would cost 25% durability loss, but that wasn't a big deal for the well-off Ethan.
So he clicked the dialogue box above the angel's head, selected "Resurrect Immediately," and the familiar prompt appeared—but the text inside was completely different:
"Dear Warrior, the continent of Westeros is facing a great crisis. While the southern kingdoms are embroiled in the chaos of war, a threat from the northern ice plains has quietly arrived. Are you willing to become the hero who saves the continent? Confirm/Decline."
Ethan quickly skimmed the text, utterly bewildered. "What? When did the dialogue change?"
Somewhat confused, his finger unconsciously moved toward "Confirm."
Just kidding—could he really click "Decline"? Heh…
As the "Confirm" button grayed out, a burst of rousing music rang in his mind. Countless chaotic memories surged like a tide, immense pain assaulted his soul, and then he lost consciousness.
A golden light shot out from his body and vanished into the depths of the sky…
—————————————————I am a dividing line———————————————————
After an unknown amount of time, Ethan stood up blankly from the sparse grass. Looking around, he found himself alone in a dense forest, clad in full metal plate armor that covered him from head to toe.
Glancing down at the ground, he saw various pieces of equipment scattered around: armor, robes, swords.
Inconspicuously among them lay many glittering gems, a glass bottle, and a leather pouch the size of a schoolbag.
Golden light shimmered from the open pouch.
This is…?!
Ethan's eyes lit up.
Though he didn't understand what was happening, he immediately squatted down, reached in, pulled out a golden coin, and bit it.
Looking at the faint teeth marks on the coin, Ethan was surprised. It really was gold!
Damn, whoever did this wouldn't go to such lengths for a prank, would they?
Ethan frowned, realizing things weren't so simple.
He sat back down cross-legged and reviewed the events, noticing something off about the unusual text in the angel's dialogue box when he'd chosen to resurrect weakly in the graveyard.
"Westeros... Dear hero... Save the world...
Did I transmigrate?"
Oh, so I transmigrated... What the hell!
Damn it, I'm doing fine at my job (low-level employee), I have a house (resettlement apartment), a car (electric scooter), and a girl (my five-year-old sister). Who wants to transmigrate to this damn Westeros?!
This is obviously not some technologically advanced, affluent place!
"Are you kidding me? If it were really such a wonderful place, would the responsibility of saving the world fall on my shoulders? Do you think I don't know my own limitations?!"
Ethan sighed, rubbing his forehead. What to do...
He looked up and cautiously asked the sky, "Um, whoever the big shot is, I actually clicked the wrong button just now. Can you let me go back?"
The shadows of the trees swayed. Several black birds flew across the sky, their clear caws echoing. A puddle of yellowish-green paste landed on the ground in front of him. From it, he read the answer he didn't want: Hmph!
Ethan sighed again, rubbing his forehead and hanging his head. He stayed depressed for a while before composing himself and beginning to take stock of his resources, preparing for the upcoming survival challenge every transmigrator faced.
What else could he do? Cry and beg God to send him back? That seemed unrealistic.
First, he had to survive, stay alive, and then slowly find a way home.
He was astonished by what he found. After a quick search of the ground, Ethan realized that whoever had brought him here from Earth had gone to great lengths.
The resources scattered around included magnificent metal armor, intricately patterned robes and cloth armor, and sharp, durable swords—a total of thirty-one items that could be classified as equipment.
Unidentified gemstones of various colors glittered everywhere under the sun; their quantity was vast and impossible to count.
Various colored cloth rolls, dried flowers and plants, and uniquely shaped crystal bottles looked increasingly familiar. These things… seemed to be the materials and equipment from his Tauren Sunwalker's backpack!
Realizing this, he immediately took off his armor and rearranged it neatly on the ground according to human anatomy—it was indeed the "Lightbringer Set" from his Paladin alt.
He also noticed that his physique was now much stronger than before, and the armor fit him perfectly and looked good.
"Aaaaaah, if I'd known I'd be transmigrating in gear, I should have stayed up all night to farm those shoulder pads!"
Strength is temporary, but style is forever.
The thought of missing out on the cool, bling-bling shoulder armor filled Ethan with sorrow, tears streaming down his face.
Looking at the treasures scattered on the ground, he felt a mix of joy and worry.
Joy because, as the guild leader of a progression-focused group, the items in his inventory were extremely valuable.
In any world, even disregarding their practical value, selling these as mere artifacts would support him for a long while.
Not to mention that huge bag of over 30,000 gold coins… he couldn't even imagine what that amount could buy.
If only he could bring all that gold back to Earth…
Worry because with so much valuable stuff, what if he encountered locals tempted by his wealth and killed him? That would be terrible.
But if he didn't encounter any locals, he couldn't carry all this stuff with him. If he couldn't carry it, he wouldn't need it—and if he couldn't use it, it would all be useless.
What was even more infuriating was that, as guild leader, Ethan hadn't prepared much food in his backpack.
In World of Warcraft, food was only used for buffs and health restoration.
However, food buffs weren't as strong as potions, so he didn't need them.
As for health restoration, did the guild leader and main tank even need to worry about that?
So all that remained on the ground were a few scattered chicken legs, pies, and cans of "mysterious meat"—dropped by mobs in the dungeon and accidentally looted into his backpack.
Putting them together, Ethan calculated it would be enough food for three days.
That meant if he couldn't find a stable food source within three days, he would face the tragic fate of starving to death.
After thinking it over for less than two minutes, Ethan decided to temporarily abandon most of these things and find a human settlement first.
At least he needed to find a water source.
But before leaving, he had to store everything properly; he couldn't just leave it all behind.
Ethan stood up and, using his current position as the center, spiraled outward, searching for a suitable hiding spot for the larger items.
After about half an hour, he discovered an abandoned bear den in the southeast direction.
A bear den was a dwelling dug out by bears. Depending on the bear's size, dens varied—this one was about three meters deep and nearly two meters high, clearly from a large animal.
Ethan cautiously peered inside. The den was empty. From the dry soil on the floor and the mild odor, he guessed it had been abandoned for a long time.
So, like an ant carrying food, he gradually moved the unused equipment over and stuffed it deep inside.
Then, using a miner's pickaxe, he dug down the soil above the den, covering everything.
After the den completely collapsed, he moved stones and vegetation from nearby to camouflage it further.
To avoid suspicion, Ethan didn't mark the rocks or nearby trees. Instead, he took out an intact scroll of power and used a charred twig as a pen to draw the typical terrain features of the surrounding area on the back.
After finishing the treasure map, Ethan looked at the abstract lines with despair, deeply worried about the future of his wealth.
Would he really be able to come back and find these things?
Oh well, better than leaving them for someone else for free.
After hiding the treasure, Ethan kept only a few essentials for himself, including:
Armor: The full "Lightbringer" set, which he wore.
Weapons: A shield bearing the Royal Crest of Lordaeron, a short sword, a longsword that transformed into "Sea Serpent's Strike," and a spellcasting dagger.
Backpack: All the food, one hundred gold coins, an empty potion bottle for water, and some gems.
Tools: A blacksmith's hammer, a miner's pickaxe, and a fire starter—one of each.
Honestly, without spatial magic, Ethan dreaded carrying such a heavy load. How could he possibly lift it?
But when he actually started hanging each item on his body, he discovered he could carry it—and it wasn't even that difficult.
He was puzzled. Though he was a tall, strong man on Earth, he'd never been this strong.
Was this some kind of transmigration perk?
He didn't understand, and there was no need to understand.
After packing up, Ethan left his birthplace and began searching for a place where he could survive.
In the forest, the first priority for survival was finding flowing water sources like streams and rivers.
Most human settlements were built near water, so as long as he followed a river, he would eventually find a village or town. Even if he was unlucky and found no village, he would reach the sea. Walking along the coast, he would surely find a port or fishing village.
What if it was a deserted island?
Then he could just wait to die alone. But whoever went through all this trouble to bring him here wouldn't do it just to watch a live-action survival show, right?
With that thought, Ethan started walking toward lower-lying areas. After a while, he found a small stream flowing through the forest.
Ethan squatted by the stream, looking at his handsome face with black hair and black eyes reflected in the water, and breathed a sigh of relief—thankfully, it wasn't the face of a beefy Tauren.
So, in high spirits, he took out a large bottle from his backpack, dipped the opening into the stream, filled it to the brim, then lit a campfire and used stones to prop up the bottle to boil the water.
Fun fact: Forest streams might look clean, but drinking directly from them could easily give you parasites and strange diseases, trapping your soul and body forever in this vibrant forest.
He placed the bottom of the boiling bottle into the stream to cool the scalding water quickly. Ethan took out a cherry-filled biscuit and ate it slowly with the warm water.
After eating and drinking his fill, Ethan got up again and continued walking downstream along the stream.
The stream was a landmark, a beacon of hope.
Ethan walked along its side, never daring to take his eyes off the playful, lively little creature.
Along the way, he encountered impassable cliffs. When that happened, he took slight detours—even climbing trees or wading through water—he would never let the stream disappear from sight for more than two minutes.
Finally, as the sun was about to set, he saw the stream rushing joyfully into a narrow river, just wide enough for one person.
Ethan, who had been filled with anxiety, finally smiled with relief.
Though the river was narrow and he hadn't seen any signs of human activity, at least it was flowing water. And flowing water would eventually reach the sea. By following the river, he would finally leave this forest.
The sun set. Night gradually obscured the sky, and visibility in the woods decreased visibly.
Walking at night in a pitch-black forest was extremely unwise. Not only was it easy to encounter nocturnal predators, but in the darkness, one could easily slip and fall, resulting in injury.
Even disregarding those external risks, Ethan—carrying a large amount of metal gear and having walked through dense forest most of the day—was now completely exhausted. If he didn't rest, he might not be able to continue normally tomorrow.
Considering the need for a long haul, Ethan found the largest tree near the river, used his dagger to climb up the thickest part of the trunk, and leaned against it to fall asleep.
Perched atop the towering tree trunk, gazing at the sky above, Ethan futilely tried to find the familiar constellations—but even the brilliant Milky Way was gone!
This really wasn't Earth… Yet the trees, streams, rocks, and the occasional birds and beasts here were so similar to Earth.
Why was that?
Ethan couldn't help but ponder and recall, hoping to find some clues.
As he thought deeper, he unexpectedly discovered that many long-forgotten memories were flooding his mind.
A little-known ancient poem his teacher had made him memorize as a child, *Das Kapital* he'd read in college to impress others, a documentary about ancient forging techniques he'd watched… and so on.
If these memories had once been like faded old photographs stuck in an album, leaving only blurry images, now they were like movies stored on a hard drive—clear, complete, and able to fast-forward and rewind.
This feeling was strange.
Was this powerful memory ability a perk inherent to transmigrators?
Ethan eagerly began trying to dig into more memories, but perhaps this ability was too mentally taxing; his mind quickly became too fatigued to function.
Before drifting off to sleep, Ethan's last thought was that this skill would be quite effective at treating insomnia…