The white void vanished.
In the blink of an eye, it was replaced with a sprawling rural landscape that stretched out beneath a brilliant blue sky.
For a moment, I just stood there, blinking in disbelief as the wind brushed against my skin and carried the faint scent of grass and earth. The sun hung high, warm but not scorching, painting the countryside in shades of gold and green.
To my right, vast fields of crops rippled in the breeze, neat rows extending toward the horizon. To my left, open pastures rolled across gentle hills where wildflowers swayed lazily. Ahead, a cluster of trees marked the edge of a small forest. Behind me, a narrow dirt road wound its way through the open land.
"So this is my spawn point," I murmured, half amused. "Rural it is."
A wooden signpost stood a few meters away at the intersection of the dirt paths. I stepped closer, brushing off a few stray blades of grass, and found a carved arrow pointing east. A series of squiggles were etched below it, and oddly enough, I could read them.
[Stonesworth Village – 10 km]
"Perfect," I said aloud. "A nearby village. That's only a few hours' walk."
I glanced around again. No people in sight. No monsters either, thankfully. Just the sound of wind rustling through the crops.
Before heading off, I decided to check my starter pack.
I slipped off the leather rucksack that had appeared on my back when I arrived and unbuckled the straps. Inside, neatly arranged, were my beginner supplies:
A small shortsword in a plain leather scabbard.
A hunting knife with a dull sheen of iron.
A full waterskin.
Five small brown bread rolls.
A bundle of preserved meat — probably beef jerky.
A small coin pouch filled with bronze and silver coins that jingled pleasantly.
Not a bad start.
I slid my belt through the loops on the shortsword's scabbard and fastened it securely to my hip. Even if I didn't plan to fight, looking armed might discourage anyone, or anything, from testing me.
As soon as I finished equipping the weapon, a familiar blue screen blinked to life in front of my eyes.
[Tutorial Notification – Storage]
By using simple thought, you can store items inside your storage container.
"Storage, huh? Just like in games."
I focused on the rucksack and imagined transferring its contents somewhere intangible. Instantly, the items shimmered and vanished. Another thought brought up a translucent grid: my inventory screen.
Inventory
Basic Leather Backpack (M) ×1
Iron Hunting Knife ×1
Basic Waterskin (S) ×1
Bread Roll ×5
Beef Jerky ×20
Bronze Coin ×500
Silver Coin ×10
I grinned. "So it is like a survival game."
At the bottom of the interface was another button: [Recipes].
When I opened it, I found a single unlocked recipe and several greyed-out lines marked with question marks. I tapped the one available option.
[Preserved Beef Sandwich – Crafting Time: 1 min] - Required: Bread Roll ×1, Beef Jerky ×2
Out of curiosity, I confirmed the craft. A small progress bar appeared in my inventory, ticking down the seconds.
Exactly one minute later, a soft ding chimed in my ears.
[Preserved Beef Sandwich ×1]
I thought about retrieving it, and the sandwich materialized in my hand.
It looked… perfect.
The bread was square, thick, and golden brown, far from the small round rolls I'd had. The jerky had transformed into thin slices of cured meat nestled between two slices of bread, like something from a high-end café.
I turned it over, sniffed it, even poked it. "This is ridiculous. I just turned medieval rations into a convenience-store sandwich."
It smelled amazing though, so I took a cautious bite. The texture was soft, the meat flavorful. Warm, even though I hadn't heated it.
I laughed quietly. "Alright, Lily, this system's got style."
Feeling a bit more confident, I began walking toward Stonesworth Village. The road was quiet, lined with tall grass and dotted with wildflowers. Birds chirped overhead, their calls echoing faintly through the open fields.
Along the way, I picked up a few sticks and stones scattered near the road. Old gaming habits die hard; you never ignore materials in a survival setting.
After about ten minutes of gathering, a new notification popped up.
[New Crafting Options Available]
Opening my recipe list again, I found several new entries, including a [Stone Hatchet] requiring one stick and five stones.
"Classic," I said, and confirmed the craft.
After ten seconds, my hand shimmered and the hatchet appeared.
[Stone Hatchet – Durability 10/10] -A basic hatchet that can be used for chopping wood.
It looked surprisingly professional. The haft was smooth, the grip comfortable, and the blade had the same shape as a modern metal hatchet from Earth, except it was made of perfectly uniform grey stone.
"How the hell does five pebbles turn into this?" I muttered, testing its weight. It was absurd, but undeniably efficient.
Curious, I veered off the path toward a small grove of trees. I selected one about the width of my torso and took a stance.
"Let's see if this actually works."
I swung the hatchet. The blade connected with a clean thunk, and a neat triangular wedge disappeared from the trunk as if it had been erased. The tree didn't even shudder.
"Okay, that's… unnatural."
One more swing and the entire tree vanished, replaced by a single, perfectly uniform log lying where it had stood.
I blinked. "What kind of lumberjack sorcery—?"
I knelt beside the log and examined it. Smooth, polished, identical at both ends. No bark, no splinters.
On a whim, I swung again. The hatchet struck the log once, and it split cleanly into six smaller, identical logs.
The durability on my hatchet dropped by one point.
[Durability: 9/10]
I couldn't help laughing. "Alright, this is officially a game world."
I stored the six logs in my inventory. Immediately, a new recipe appeared in the list.
[Craftbench T1 – Crafting Time: 2 hours] Required: Log ×6
A grin spread across my face. "Of course. You can't have crafting without a workstation."
In every survival game I'd played, crafting stations were vital. The difference between basic survival and true creation. One zombie game had required a "Lab Station" to mix vaccines; another had "Forge" and "Workbench" tiers for crafting weapons.
Seeing "T1" next to the Craftbench told me there'd be higher tiers later, maybe even factories or magical forges if I advanced far enough.
Excitement sparked in my chest.
"Alright, let's get started."
I confirmed the craft, watching the progress bar appear at the corner of my vision. Two hours wasn't long. I could gather more materials or scout the area while it worked.
The breeze rustled through the trees again, and I looked around the quiet countryside.
A world where my skills, not my luck, would decide my future.
I took another bite of my magical sandwich and then swang my hatchet again.