Super Righteous Player

[52:34:59 until internal test begins]

A row of light screens silently hovered in front of Annan, with characters burning in a bright red flame flickering like candlelight.

His body felt like it had been violently shaken, and he was extremely exhausted, as if a person with severe motion sickness had been strapped to a chair and then taken for a two-hour drive, drained of everything in their stomach until their expression was listless. Even lying on the beach, he felt a false sensation of walking on solid ground from underneath his feet.

Annan didn't want to move, think, or speak. He could only quietly lie on the beach, watching the last set of numbers continuously jumping, as if time was gradually slipping away...

Thirty-two minutes had passed since he woke up—he'd been keeping track of time—and he finally began to feel somewhat thirsty.

Annan, covering the slight pain in the back of his head, slowly got up from the ground.

His job was as a game designer for a popular mobile game. Yes, the very profession that held a high risk factor for both himself and his family.

Just a moment ago, on a whim, he had clicked on an app that had mysteriously appeared on his phone named "Mist Continent Internal Test Version."

Given that name, he thought it probably wasn't some knockoff skin game like "XX Love Elimination" or "Mythical XX." So he opened it with a professional eye.

But the moment he opened it, he felt as if someone had smacked the back of his head with a brick, and everything went dark as he passed out.

"What an intriguing new way to be transported..."

Annan gasped for air, weary and unable to help but cough as he sat on the ground.

After recovering for a while, he barely managed to prop up his weak, disoriented body, slowly rising from the sandy beach.

He lowered his head to look at his slender, tender fingers and the short tunic he had on, which was both extravagant in style and stained with mud and blood.

This seemed to be noble attire... Had he been in a shipwreck?

Annan took a deep breath and looked back.

He clearly saw the endless black sea behind him, the dilapidated sailboat stranded on the shore, and the dark red sunset hanging high by the sea, with three layers of opulent golden runes rotating at the halo.

Annan: ....

Although he was mentally prepared for the fact he might have been transported to another world, the first sight of the sunset, flamboyant as if special effects cost nothing, still stunned him momentarily.

His first thought was very clear:

——Dear art designer, make one for me too.

Then Annan belatedly realized that he probably didn't have to work overtime anymore... And after being transported to another world, it seemed he had said goodbye to his career as a game designer forever.

He could only sadly live as a young noble, indulging in a decadent and boring life every day.

Truly, it was sad.

Even sadder was that Annan had no memory of the body he had inherited; when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the scene of a shipwreck.

Just like a player who skipped all the opening CGs but didn't receive any introductory quests.

Weak, helpless, with a dumbfounded expression——

Who am I? Where am I? What should I do?

Annan sighed, slapped his face, and made himself a bit more alert.

He felt something was subtly wrong.

Although he didn't consider himself a normal person, why... did he feel completely calm about this major incident?

Without fear or panic, his heart had no trace of negative emotions, as calm as a corporate drone leading a peaceful life.

This was not the psychological state that a corporate drone should have, nor was it the emotion of a transmigrator who was utterly clueless about the current situation. Not to mention, just looking at this maxed-out special effect sun, he knew there would be big problems in this world.

In such a situation, he should be both nervous and panicky—that would be the normal reaction—

"...Uh."

The moment Annan realized this, he suddenly felt as if something had struck the back of his head. His vision blurred sharply, and then a vast stream of data began to flow from all directions, finally forming an attribute panel:

Annan, Human, Male

Rare Elite (Gold), Challenge Level 3

Title: None

Rank: None

Health: 55%

Erosion: 3%

Attributes: Strength 7, Agility 8, Constitution 6, Perception 11, Willpower 12

Public Experience: 20

Personal Traits: Heart of Winter[Reversed Inscription]

Occupations——

Swordsman LV3: [Guardsman Swordsmanship LV4], [Disarm LV1], [Frost Sword Technique LV1]

Is this... a system?

Annan suddenly felt invigorated.

"That's right, quite a few did come from mobile games, so how could we not release a game system?"

Apart from that Rare Elite (golden) which looked somewhat unsettling...

After a quick glance, Annan, relying on his professional instinct, immediately focused his attention on the "Personal Traits" column.

As expected, the other text immediately faded away, and this line enlarged to the center of his vision with a long introduction appearing below.

Winterheart (golden, talent type)

Original effect (abandoned): You will not feel any positive emotions; damage with "frost" elements permanently reduced by 50%; you can only be killed by damage with "frost" elements (entire section struck through)

Special: Equipped with a [Reversed Inscription] (cannot be removed or destroyed)

Effect: You will not feel any negative emotions; damage you deal with "frost" elements permanently increased by 20%; you cannot be killed by damage with "frost" elements.

"... I see."

Annan contemplated thoughtfully.

This talent is probably the source of why his mood is so calm and comfortable.

"In any case, let's start with an investigation."

Annan took a deep breath and looked at the sailboat.

The sun was about to set. There wasn't much time left for his investigation... but at least he could spend the night on the boat.

His current body was already at half health, and he still felt noticeably uncomfortable. If he got cold at night, he was afraid he might catch a cold or fall ill.

And since he was a swordsman, there should at least be a sword on this boat, right?

If there was a sword, he would feel more confident.

He did not know what his body looked like...

Dragging his slightly fatigued body, he walked slowly to the seaside. As he approached the boat, he looked down and easily saw the appearance of his own body reflected in the unsettlingly dark sea:

He appeared to be only about twelve or thirteen years old, wearing very fair skin, almost sickly pale. He had the slender shoulders, collarbones, and waist characteristic of a youth, and black, shoulder-length hair.

But what attracted Annan's attention the most were those clear, clean ice-blue eyes that sent a chill to the core.

... Wow, I am rather cute.

"But no matter how cute, I'm still a bit hungry..."

Annan smacked his lips and, with some difficulty, climbed onto the boat using the rope ladder.

He examined the deck carefully.

It was a fairly large sailboat. In terms of sail configuration, it was somewhat similar to the carrack sailboats of the 15th century—it had several masts, with the main mast holding a large square sail, the foremast and mizzenmast rigged with multiple square sails, and the aft mast holding a triangular sail.

But all its sails were torn to tatters by something and the original designs on them were completely indiscernible.

Yet, there wasn't a single burn or bullet mark on the wooden deck. The masts were also unbroken... something was very wrong.

Suddenly, Annan's pupils contracted slightly.

He saw a dead body.

It was a young man with brown curly hair. He lay slumped near the rope ladder, eyes wide open in death, staring forward. His right hand clutched a broken-bladed sword so tightly that two of his fingernails had snapped off and were soaked with blood, yet he had not let go, even in death.

His chest was stained with blood that had long since dried and turned brown. However, there was no weapon nearby that could have killed him.

"This doesn't look like a shipwreck."

Annan snorted.

Facing such danger, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up slightly. Maybe it was the trait of this body, but he felt no fear or shock at all, only a strong sense of excitement steadily filling his heart.

There was no evidence to indicate that the person who had killed the crew member and burned the sails had left the boat. But he really had nowhere else to go.

So, I need a weapon.

Even if it's just a broken sword—

The thoughts in Annan's mind became clearer and clearer.

He reached out without hesitation, attempting to pry the sailor's fingers apart with force. Although his body was quite young, he seemed to be strong enough, so this was not difficult.

But as soon as Annan touched the sword, he froze.

Because a line of data suddenly appeared in front of his eyes:

[Uncleansed Nightmare Shard detected]

[Nightmare Shard bound]

[Level requirement: Below Bronze rank]

[Class requirement: Swordsman]

[Special requirement: Cannot possess casting abilities]

[Requirements met, descending into the Nightmare in ten seconds, ten, nine...]