"What? Never seen a guy like me before, mongrels?"
I shot a glare at one of the more charming specimens of the local wildlife, flipped them the bird, and without wasting another second of my precious time, resumed my leisurely hike into the great unknown.
Unknown. Yeah, sure.
Another unlucky pebble got booted into the bushes. It didn't help much, but seeing as I didn't exactly have a healthy outlet for my frustration, petty vandalism would have to do for now.
The sun was out, the breeze was warm, the sky an endless stretch of blue — and not a soul in sight, unless you count the occasional pack of Hilichurls I had to dodge for the third time. No point in picking a fight I knew I'd lose.
How I ended up here? No clue.
The last few hours of my life had been wiped clean, like someone had ctrl-alt-deleted my memory. Every time I tried to recall anything, it was like banging my head against a wall — just a faint migraine in return for my effort. Unsettling. Borderline terrifying, if I let myself think about it too long. So I didn't.
Right now, I had one question on my mind: "Who the hell dropped me into this world, and what for?"
I had theories. Tons of them. But without answers, all I could do was keep moving forward and hope I didn't get mauled — or worse, eaten — along the way.
At least one mystery got solved pretty quickly: "Where the hell am I?"
Teyvat. Aka Genshin. Aka that goddamn Chinese gacha casino with waifus in every flavor, shape, shade, and size.
I figured it out maybe twenty minutes after deciding to stop sitting on my ass and go find some signs of civilization.
Yeah, great plan.
Except I didn't find people.
I found a small Hilichurl camp about thirty meters off the main path. Four of them, chilling by a makeshift fire. Thankfully, they were more interested in cooking than catching random strangers who didn't belong. Turns out hunger's a universal language — even monsters want dinner more than a fight.
Still, everything was a hell of a lot easier in the game.
Shame reality comes with a much larger map and a boatload of extra problems. Like exhaustion, for one. My legs were starting to complain, and judging by my watch, I'd been on my feet for way too long. If nothing changed soon, I'd be sleeping under the stars — not exactly my idea of a fun first night.
Then again, who cares what I want? Certainly not the entity that threw me into this world without a manual. No tutorial. No quest log. Just: poof — figure it out yourself.
Suppressing what had to be my tenth frustrated sigh, I kept walking.
There was a road here for a reason, right? Roads lead somewhere. I just had to hope it wasn't another damn wardrobe to Narnia. One world-hop a day is my absolute limit.
Warning: Initiating decryption of spiritual data archive…
Out of nowhere, a strange message blinked into view right in front of my face. At first, I barely paid attention — just another weird anomaly in a day already full of them.
But when the next line replaced it, my body suddenly had other priorities.
A sharp jolt seized my muscles, locking them in a spasm. I lost balance instantly and hit the ground hard. A hiss escaped me — mental, not vocal — as a sharp pain shot up my spine. Then came the itching. Fierce, unbearable. And then... something else. A creeping, crawling sensation, like a swarm of ants burrowing under my skin. Whatever it was, it felt deeply wrong.
No idea how long I lay there, twitching in the dirt like a dying fish. Could've been minutes, could've been hours. Time didn't exist — just the discomfort and that invasive, skin-crawling dread. Then, as suddenly as it began, it all stopped.
For a few seconds, I couldn't even believe it. I just lay there, dazed, staring up at the sky and the wispy clouds drifting lazily overhead. But reality came crashing back when another message lit up before my eyes:
Spiritual archive successfully integrated with host's energy system.
Calibration in progress…
I took a deep breath. My hands — without my permission — lifted to my cheeks. Then: smack.
"Shit!"
The notifications just kept coming, line after line flashing across my vision, refusing to go away until finally — finally — they stopped.
Calibration complete. Spiritual construct successfully integrated and ready for deployment. Would you like to open the user manual for full functionality?
Yes / No
With a groan, I reached toward the floating prompt and tapped Yes.
A moment later, an interface opened that every MMO player would find familiar — except this one was way more detailed than anything I'd ever seen in a game. Like, way more. My eyes darted all over the screen, unsure where to even start.
Thankfully, the manual — if you could call it that — was actually put together by someone who knew what they were doing. Or something. Doesn't matter if it was a person, AI, or a cosmic prankster. Point is, it was written in plain, digestible language, and even my thoroughly average brain could follow along.
Step one: your character profile.
As much as the idea of me being turned into some kind of in-game mascot made me cringe, I've always been the kind of guy who calls things what they are.
Let's start with the stats. Five main attributes: Strength, Agility, Endurance, Perception, and Mana. Pretty straightforward. No rocket science here. You level up, get points, and toss them where you want. Simple in theory. Survive long enough to see that happy ending, though — that's the tricky part. But hey, what's life without a little existential threat?
Next up: the character panel. There I was — a full 3D model of me, rendered with that slightly cartoony Genshin-style polish I still hadn't gotten used to. Beneath the model, the familiar MMO-style inventory screen.
But there were some interesting differences. For starters, the gear system had two slots for clothing: external and internal. The outer layer was what everyone else could see. The inner layer? Just for me. Oddly enough, both sets of gear came with stat boosts. Total cheat code, if you ask me. But who was I to complain?
Of course, there was every chance this was just the tutorial sugarcoating things. Reality usually has a way of smashing your expectations to bits. So yeah — I'd play it by ear.
Next up was the regional map — scalable, detailed, and probably the most useful tool in this whole setup. Especially considering Teyvat didn't exactly come equipped with GPS, Google Maps, or any of the other handy little luxuries from the high-tech world I used to call home.
And then, for dessert, came the juiciest (and least understood) feature so far — the Synthesis Panel.
Apparently, I could spend something called Synthesis Points — abbreviated as SP — to upgrade gear and craft useful consumables for my journey. How I was supposed to earn those points? No clue. But I had a feeling that mystery wouldn't stay a mystery for long.
Finally, after wading through the flood of interfaces and notifications, I was greeted with a pleasant little surprise: a congratulatory message for completing the tutorial.
As a reward, they handed me what could only be described as a "Starter Pack for the Newly Screwed."
Sure, it had a more official name, but let's be honest — mine felt way more accurate.
Inside the care package: no-frills spear, short utility knife, sleeping bag, small cooking pot, flint and tinder for starting fires, three days' worth of supplies: a large canteen of water and a pouch of dried meat and a pocket-sized whetstone for blade maintenance.
After confirming the reward, everything was automatically stashed in my inventory.
The spear jumped straight into my weapon slot, while the rest of the gear went into storage. I'd deal with the details later.
Right now, I had a more pressing concern: finding a town. Or at least some kind of settlement with roofs, people, and hopefully no monsters.
I hadn't even made it three steps before another notification floated up in front of me:
New Quest Received!
Objective: Reach an inhabited settlement
Reward: 25 SP
Nice of the system to give me a little extra motivation… Not that I needed it. I was already headed that way. But hey, free loot is free loot.
"Let's just hope I don't end up sleeping under the stars again tonight."
I shot a quick glance at the sun slipping below the horizon, then finally got moving. No more delays. Time to find civilization… before the dark found me first.
***
Leaning my back against the thick trunk of a lone tree, I let out a tired breath and stared at the darkening horizon. The fire beside me crackled softly, and the grass nearby hummed with the occasional chirp of crickets. I wasn't exactly thrilled about the local wildlife situation, so every extra minute of rest felt like a small, hard-earned victory before I had to hit the road again.
Funny thing — the "cartoonish" look of this world, which had thrown me off at first, took on a completely different feel under the night sky. But I didn't let myself get lost in the scenery. As soon as I caught my breath, I broke down my makeshift camp and kept moving.
Despite the late hour, visibility was surprisingly good — clear enough to navigate without much trouble. About two hours into the trek, I spotted a couple of fruit trees off to the side of the trail. Turned out they were apple trees — ones I actually recognized. Even weirder? They tasted exactly like the ones back home. Just… bigger.
I wasn't about to complain. Not knowing how much farther I'd need to walk — or if I'd even find a proper food source anytime soon — I grabbed every apple I could reach. Sure, apples don't exactly count as a full meal, but when you're out in the wild with limited options? You take what you can get.
Still, despite my earlier promise to avoid sleeping under the stars, fatigue eventually caught up with me. I had no choice but to stop and set up a proper camp. Technically, I should've done that while it was still light out. But between worrying about getting mauled by who-knows-what and pushing just a bit farther, I got lucky instead: stumbled across an abandoned campsite.
It was a small, open clearing ringed by large stones, with a firepit already marked out in the center. Jackpot. I spent the next hour fixing the place up — clearing debris, reinforcing the fire, making sure nothing creepy was hiding nearby — then finally let myself sleep.
And what a terrible night it was.
I kept waking up. Between the unfamiliar noises, the constant sense of looming danger, and the need to keep the fire going, restful sleep was off the table. By the time dawn broke, I felt like I'd been run over by a ruin guard.
Groggy, stiff, and annoyed, I forced down a makeshift breakfast — some of the dried meat and a couple of yesterday's apples. Washed it down with a few gulps of water, packed up camp, and pushed forward.
The scenery didn't change much. More rolling hills. More green fields. The occasional patch of trees. Over dozens of kilometers, it was the same repeating background like some poorly optimized open-world texture. Still, peaceful. At least until the peace ran out. Because it always does.
Monotony. Sleep deprivation. Physical and mental fatigue. The combination dulled my senses just enough for me not to notice until it was far too late…
I'd walked straight into an ambush.
Three unarmed figures in familiar masks burst out of the bushes just a few meters ahead of me, creeping forward with slow, deliberate steps.
I instinctively took two steps back and glanced over my shoulder — only to spot a couple more of the same humanoid creatures cutting off my retreat. They were forming a circle. Closing in.
On the bright side, none of them had weapons. Which meant I actually had a shot at making it out alive.
That entire assessment took less than a second. My brain kicked into survival mode, running through options at lightning speed.
Step one: break the encirclement.
I dodged sideways, narrowly slipping past the closest one, and landed a sharp, well-placed kick to his rear. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught another one charging me — fast, but thankfully clumsy. I didn't have the room or focus to counter him properly, so I prioritized putting more distance between us.
Once I had a few meters between me and the group of five Hilichurls, I finally summoned my spear.
The moment my fingers wrapped around the familiar weapon, a wave of confidence surged through me. I shifted into a loose combat stance — nothing fancy, but enough to hold the line — and waited for round two.
Didn't take long.
The one I'd kicked earlier came howling straight at me, all rage and no finesse. For a second, the noise and sudden motion threw me off — but the adrenaline already coursing through my veins snapped me right back into focus.
As he lunged, I met him head-on with a wide, sweeping strike of my spear. I felt it catch — just enough resistance to confirm contact. My hands moved on instinct, twisting the shaft to tear the wound open further.
A blink later, I stepped back. The Hilichurl collapsed in a heap, motionless, a dark red stain blooming beneath him.
Didn't have time to process the fact that I'd just killed something. Because the rest of them came charging in.
All four at once. Screaming. Foaming with fury.
I gripped the spear tighter, knuckles whitening on the shaft, and sidestepped the fastest one. The next two came in hot, but a couple of short leaps got me out of their immediate range. The last one, slower than the rest, caught a glancing slash from my spear — just a shallow cut, barely more than a scratch.
Unfortunately, it seemed to excite him rather than slow him down.
The bastard came at me with renewed aggression — and his friends weren't standing around waiting their turn.
Clumsy? Absolutely. Dumb? Without a doubt. Teamwork? Never heard of it. But even so, five enraged Hilichurls were still a handful.
Through sheer dumb luck and a few frantic parries, I managed to take down another one — then baited a reckless lunge from a third and buried my spear deep. With only two left, the fight started to tip in my favor. From that point on, it was just a matter of time.
Level Up.
Level Up.
The post-combat notification popped up right on cue, dragging me back from whatever existential fog I'd been drifting through. I blinked, pulling my gaze away from the heap of dead locals to focus on the new dialogue window floating in front of me.
Swiping away a few extra messages, I quickly dove into my character stats.
Name: Mark
Title: *****
Level: 3
Attributes:
Strength: 8 → 15
Agility: 10 → 19
Perception: 9 → 10
Endurance: 7 → 10
Mana: 5
Unused Points: 0
Skills:
Spear Mastery: Level 1 (Apprentice)
I distributed the newly earned points without hesitation, and almost immediately that weird crawling sensation returned — like something slithering just beneath the surface of my skin.
Luckily, it passed within a couple of minutes.
What I didn't account for, however, was what came after: hunger. A deep, gnawing hunger that hit me so hard it was almost dizzying.
Barely thinking, I stumbled into the same underbrush the Hilichurls had come from and proceeded to demolish what little food I had left.
"...Shit."
The word slipped out in a whisper once the haze wore off and I realized just how thoroughly I'd wiped out my supplies.
"Never again," I muttered to myself, trying not to look at the pathetic pile of chewed-up apple cores and meat scraps I'd left behind like some starving animal.
I shook it off, brushed the dirt from my clothes, and stepped back onto the path. The Hilichurl bodies were still there — motionless, sprawled in their own blood. Not exactly a pleasant sight. But what really caught my eye was the faint glow hovering above them.
Curious despite myself, I forced down the rising discomfort and approached one of the corpses. When I reached out to touch it, a new prompt appeared:
Convert to Synthesis Points?
Yes / No
I tapped Yes.
To my surprise, my point total immediately jumped. Five corpses gave me six SP in total — the biggest one must've been worth two on his own.
Nice little bonus.
As for the act of killing them? Honestly… it didn't hit me the way I thought it might. Maybe it was the slightly cartoonish style of the world — less cutesy than the game version, sure, but still far from photorealistic. Maybe it was exhaustion, or maybe I was just too numb from a night of crap sleep.
Either way, I wasn't losing any sleep over it. The alternative — me lying in that blood instead of them — was a lot less appealing.
"No point dwelling," I exhaled, gave my head a slight shake, and muttered under my breath.
And with that, I turned and kept walking.
Turns out, that ambush wasn't a one-off.
On the way forward, I ran into several more Hilichurl patrols — one of which had seven of the bastards packed together like a mini warband.
Fortunately, with my boosted stats and a bit of actual combat experience under my belt, I managed to wipe them out without nearly the same trouble I had during my first fight in this world.
I even leveled up again.
But after the last round of stat allocation and the delightful side effects that came with it, I figured it was smarter to hold off for now. One crisis at a time.
After clearing out the last group of savages just past the forest's edge, I spotted a fork in the road about a hundred meters ahead — along with a weathered wooden sign, barely holding together after who-knows-how-many years exposed to the elements.
Mondstadt
Straight to the point. No fluff, no extra info. But at this stage, even that was something to be grateful for. Up until now, I'd been walking blind — no clue where I was or where I was heading.
Now, at least, I had direction.
Let's just hope the capital isn't buried so deep in the ass-end of nowhere that I have to walk another two weeks to get there.
Because this version of the world? It's a hell of a lot bigger than the one in the game. I learned that the hard way.
And let's not forget — I still need to figure out where I'm getting my next meal.
That last level-up came at a cost. Then again, if I hadn't pushed my stats when I did, that final Hilichurl squad might've sent me packing to the afterlife.
So yeah — guess I'll keep moving forward and hope for the best.
...Right. Hope. That always works out well.