One eventful morning, cold and dark in my room. As soon as I pulled back the curtain, a blinding light pierced my eyes. I dodged, weaved, and rolled away from the window like I was pying Elden Ring.

  Quiet. As always. No noise, only peace.

  Then—

  Ding dong.

  The doorbell rang.

  I froze mid-action, composed myself, and headed downstairs. As expected, Chairman Meow was guarding the front door like a hitman, ready to pounce on any intruder.

  I opened the door.

  There he was—a towering bald man, 6’5”, 250 pounds of pure muscle. He wore a tank top with a single word across it:

  “Reformed.”

  He looked me dead in the eyes and, with a proud voice, said:

  “Here it is. Your gaming capsule—ready to use and py the game of Zero.”

  Then added:

  “It’s a heavy one. I’ll assist you in getting it inside.”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Let’s get it into the garage.”

  In my head, I was thinking, This thing isn’t going to fit. It’s bigger than the Mississippi—nah, scratch that—it’s bigger than a sedan’s backseat.

  The man, with the strength of a hundred men, lifted the capsule with ease and carefully pced it into the garage.

  “Thanks,” I said, with a genuine smile.

  He gave a proud grin, thumbed-up, and winked.

  “No problem, bro. Have a great gaming experience. Maybe we’ll meet again—if fate allows it.”

  With my loudest customer service voice, I replied:

  “Yes, sir! Thank you again, sir!”

  Now it was time to reveal the capsule in its full glory. Chairman Meow stood alert, his gaze sharp, watching this device that would soon take his owner away.

  And there it was.

  Round. Sleek. Futuristic.

  Straight out of a sci-fi film.

  I didn’t know who made it, but that didn’t matter. Not now.

  Morning routines: Check.

  Workout done.

  Chairman Meow still guarding his “sacred sanctum” like the dictator he was born to be.

  I passed through the hallway into the kitchen.

  Fridge: empty.

  My face: shocked.

  Chairman Meow, now behind me, jabbed his pointy fangs at my legs like, “Go get groceries, peasant.”

  So we got ready and stepped outside. Meow walked with his majestic stride… only to reveal… a T Coupe Granny Car.

  Yep. My ride.

  We made it to Walmart. As I stepped out of the car, a surge of anxiety hit me, my thoughts clouded, stress crawling in.

  Chairman Meow let out a loud, proud meow, giving me the courage I needed to face the store.

  We got everything we needed for the week.

  Back home, dinner was glorious.

  Chairman Meow got his catnip and premium tuna.

  while I feasted on glorious tacos—true, divine cuisine.

  12 PM. Saturday.

  Time to set everything up.

  I powered on the capsule.

  Wind whooshed through the vents.

  Blue light glowed from within.

  It was beautiful.

  I took one st look at Chairman Meow.

  He stared back, his expression noble.

  “Don’t worry. This sanctum is under my protection. Do as you please, peasant.”

  With his meow of approval, I stepped inside the capsule. As it sealed shut, I smirked and said:

  “I’ll be back.”

  The capsule’s entrance closed. Electricity surged around me. My body went numb. Consciousness fell into outer darkness…

  …then—

  Light.

  Character Creation Interface.

  There I was.

  My avatar—exactly me.

  Towering… 5’5”. Yeah. Nothing majestic about it.

  Suddenly, a ghostly AI appeared.

  “I will provide instruction and tutorial. Ask anything.”

  “With excitement,” I shouted:

  “Make me 6’5”, 250 pounds of muscle.”

  “Request denied. Appearance is locked.”

  My eye twitched. “Whatever.”

  “Ready to teleport to beginner town?”

  “Yes!” I shouted.

  Fsh of light. And then—

  I stood in the beginner town.

  Crowded.

  So many pyers.

  Ryoma Thought. “Didn’t know this game was this popur… and it’s still in beta.”

  The AI instructed:

  “Open your map. Familiarize yourself.”

  I opened it—and saw a dolphin, shaped in glowing crystal, in the center of town.

  Location: Dawnmere

  Landmark: Fountain of Origin

  Description:

  “The dolphin isn’t just decorative. It is a symbol of hope—a guiding spirit for those who are lost.

  If you’re ever adrift in the sea of uncertainty… the dolphin will lead you home.”

  I stared.

  Tears welled in my eyes.

  “I can… feel emotion? In-game?”

  I shook my head. Back to the map.

  The West showed ten other regions—just names, no visuals.

  “Guess it’s locked until I level up… or maybe it’s still hidden because of beta?”

  I read the names aloud to myself:

  Dawnmere (Beginner Town)

  Knowledge Region

  Ember Region

  Frostgrave Expanse

  Bloomrot Wilds

  Abysscore Depths

  Obsidian Cradle

  Voltspire Reaches

  Echoveil Wastes

  Marrowhallow

  Aetherion Apex

  The East?

  Nothing. Uncharted.

  “If I were you,” I muttered, “I wouldn’t enter the unknown just yet.”

  The AI said:

  “Have you finished your curiosity, sir Fuzen? You are now free to explore. Be warned: every action has consequences… just like the real world.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Then I looked up toward the sky.

  “Maybe you deserve a name,” I said to the AI.

  “Next chapter,” said the author.

  I stood up, heart pounding.

  My journey had finally begun.

  “It’s time to get some equipment,” I whispered, eyes focused.

  First stop: the bcksmith.

  A man needs his safety equipment—even in a VR game. You never know what’ll come crawling out in video game.

  The air was crisp. The skies radiant. Dawnmere felt… real.

  “I can’t wait to tell Chairman Meow about this.”

  As I walked through the town, whispers floated through the streets.

  “I hope adventurers stay away from the west… they only bring trouble.”

  My curiosity fred.

  “What’s so bad about the west?”

  Up ahead, smoke rose from a forge. A bulky man hammered steel with surgical precision.

  I approached.

  “Hi, sir!” I said.

  “Hey there, kid,” he replied without looking up.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Name’s Spark. You can call me Old Man, or Old Man Spark. Either works.”

  He smiled faintly.

  “Looking for gear? I’ve got everything—from cheap junk to priceless broken machines.

  The room glittered with beautiful, well-made gear. I admired everything like I was in a museum.

  “Give me anything within my budget,” I said.

  I had 10 silver—standard for new pyers.

  I picked out:

  Boots with speed and agility bonuses

  A thin leather shirt

  Twin daggers

  “All this?” he asked. “It costs more… but since you’re new, I’ll cut you a deal.”

  “All 10 silver.”

  “Noooo… my precious!” I cried as I handed it over.

  “Stingy old man…” I muttered.

  “See you again, kid,” Spark said with a grin.

  Next stop: Adventurer Registration.

  The line stretched down the street.

  3 hours…Lata.. 6 hours…ta..

  “This game is seriously popur.”

  Finally, I reached the desk.

  A beautiful woman sat behind the counter.

  She smiled as I approached.

  “What can I do for you today?” she asked.

  “I want to become an adventurer!” I said proudly.

  The room fell silent.

  Everyone stared.

  “You’re in the right pce,” she said, unfazed. “Touch this crystal ball, and you’re set.”

  I reached out.

  The moment my hand touched the crystal, a fsh of light pulsed—then vanished.

  “Congratutions,” she said. “You’re now an adventurer. Here’s your card.

  If you lose it, come back for a repcement—but it’ll cost you 10 silver.”

  I saluted.

  “Rest assured, Fairy Godmother. I’ll never lose this sacred relic!”

  Still silence. Still stares.

  “Okay… maybe I came on a little strong.”

  “Thanks for everything, Mar,” I said.

  “You’re welcome,” she replied warmly.

  I gnced at my rank:

  F-Rank. The bottom.

  “It’s nothing to brag about… but ranks don’t matter to me.

  Protecting people—that’s what a real hero does.”

  As I left the guild building, I looked toward the open gates to the east.

  “It’s time to see what Verdelune Fields has to offer.”

  Expression focused.

  Heart pounding.

  “Let the real adventure begin.”