North didn't realize how much time had passed until his body started to ache.

For the past several hours, he had been running through different tasks, moving from one section of the Plum Gardens to another, carrying out duties that seemed simple on the surface but turned out to be exhausting in practice. His first job was arranging the spirit-infused lanterns along the main pathways leading toward the central festival area. But, each frost essence lantern had to be positioned exactly three steps apart, so they created patterns of snowflakes in the air between them.

At first, North thought, “Oh, this should be easy.”

Then he made the mistake, placed two slightly too close together—the resulting dissonance made nearby area frost over instantly.

"Careful!" the jade-ornament supervisor called out. "These aren't mortal decorations. Everything must follow the formation paths!"

After the lanterns, North was sent into the bamboo forest to help with cleaning up fallen leaves and trimming excess growth.

This sounded easy. It wasn’t.

Bamboo leaves were everywhere. There was no single pile to collect—just endless layers of golden, crisp leaves that littered the forest floor. The bamboo itself was massive. Some stalks were as thick as tree trunks, rising toward the sky like green pillars supporting the heavens. Moreover, Some of the bamboo was imbued with Nether essence, making it more difficult to cut or clear.

"Don't disturb the dew on the living stalks," an older worker advised North. "That's not water—it's distilled moonlight. A very precious resource for Visionaries proficient in illusions.”

North paused, turning his gaze toward the stalks of bamboo swaying lightly in the night breeze. A single drop of luminescent liquid slid lazily down one of the stalks, leaving behind a faint glow. It shimmered like liquid silver.Then—*before it could touch the ground—a shadow darted in.

Snap.

A small bird-like creature snatched the droplet in its beak. North squinted. Wait. That wasn’t a bird. Upon closer inspection, the creature’s body was made up of wood gears subtly clicking beneath its silver feathers. Tiny runes glowed along its frame, shifting as it adjusted its grip on the droplet before taking off again into the night.

A worker robot. North’s brows furrowed. Mechanical birds harvesting liquid moonlight? This wasn’t something he remembered coding.

Another older worker chuckled as he handed North a special broom.

"Careful," he said. "Some of the bamboo might move."

North paused. "What do you mean, move?"

The old man just grinned. "You'll see."

North sighed and got to work. Sure enough—after clearing a small area of leaves, one of the bamboo stalks subtly shifted, as if adjusting itself. North stopped, staring. It was like the forest itself was alive. Still, he kept at it, clearing paths through the grove, picking up stray branches, and making sure the grounds were pristine. By the time he was done, his arms ached, his back was sore, and he had a newfound respect for landscapers. Then North and a few other workers were tasked with sweeping away any remaining dust or debris, polishing the jade tiles, and helping set up small tables for decorations. It was menial work, but necessary. He could already picture how it would look at night, under the glowing lanterns, with noble heirs and young masters seated together in a gathering.

He could imagine the performances that would take place—the dancers, the musicians, the fireworks.

Gradually, the work grew more hard and kind of esoteric as the day progressed. They cleaned spirit fountains where the water flowed upward. Pruned branches on the floating islands.

"Those are heart stones," an worker explained when North jumped at finding a path had rearranged itself. "They align with the Visionaries heart. Best not to think too hard about where they go."

A part of North was genuinely impressed by the things he saw (As he had coded a lot of famous items and elements and remembered them). Another part of him was just wondering how much longer they were going to make him work.

At some point, without realizing it, the sun had disappeared. The twilight sky had deepened, the Plum Gardens now fully bathed in its starry night glow. North blinked. He had been so caught up in the endless tasks that he hadn’t even noticed time slipping by. The other workers seemed to realize it at the same moment.

A supervisor clapped his hands.

"Alright, that’s enough!" he called out. "Festival starts in an hour—we’re done for the day. Line up for your pay."

A collective sigh of relief passed through the workers. North rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. Finally. The workers formed a line, stepping up one by one to receive their earned wages. North stood somewhere in the middle, arms crossed, watching as the merchant’s assistants handed out small pouches.

One worker in front of him chuckled, stretching his back.

"Didn’t even notice how tired I was."

"Same," another worker muttered, rolling his shoulders with a groan. "Feels like my legs are gonna fall off."

Another sighed heavily. "Especially the Floating Isles. Those did a number on me. I was so scared to open my eyes at that height." He shuddered at the memory. "I don’t know how those young masters just fly around like it’s nothing. It's... it's terrifying."

A few others nodded in agreement, some chuckling, others grimacing at their own experiences. Clearly, not everyone was cut out for soaring through the skies like a sword-wielding demigod. North also agreed. What more, for the first time since arriving in this world, he felt… normal. No insane plots. No assassins. No young masters. Just a guy earning his damn pay. Of course, he wasn’t stupid to stop being cautious.

When his turn came, the assistant barely glanced at him before tossing a small pouch into his hand.

"Five Nether Coins," the assistant muttered, already moving on to the next worker.

North nodded and stepped aside, loosening the drawstrings. He was curious and happy. This was his first time seeing Nether Coins in person.

The moment he tipped the pouch over, the coins slid into his palm. North’s brows lifted slightly.

These are different, he thought, holding one up for inspection. On his computer screen, Nether Coins had been simple purple circles with some basic effects. But these... these were something else entirely. They weren’t ordinary metal currency. Each Nether Coin was transparent, like a gemstone, yet somehow more… fluid, alive. Inside their deep violet core, faint wisps of something—almost like tiny swirling shadows—moved constantly. They were cold to the touch, sending a slight tingling sensation through his fingers as he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger.

North inspected them for a long time, flipping them over, watching the way the light refracted through their cores. "Strange…" he muttered. But before he could overthink it, he sighed, shook his head, and pocketed them. He had bigger concerns.

By the time North exited the Plum Gardens, the evening sky had deepened into rich hues of red, orange, and purple. The soft glow of spirit lanterns now fully illuminated the festival grounds behind him, their gentle shimmer dancing across the reflective pathways. Outside the main gates, the city was still alive—vendors selling food, groups of workers chatting, clan's disciples walking in pairs, their robes fluttering in the cool evening breeze. But for North? There was only one thing on his mind now.

Deliver Wei’s Letter to Yun Jian at the Golden Feather Pavilion.

North clicked his tongue, glancing around. Where the hell was the Golden Feather Pavilion? He knew it was inside the Inner City, but he had no clue where exactly. He thought back to the bits of conversation he had picked up from other workers earlier.

The Lustrous Sky Clan is divided into three areas.:

Outer City – Where commoners, merchants, and most visitors stayed.

Inner City – Where he currently was. Home to respected sect disciples, lesser noble houses, and affiliated clans.

Core Clan Area – Private and restricted. Only direct members of the Lustrous Sky Clan could enter.

The Golden Feather Pavilion had to be somewhere in the Inner City.

But that didn’t narrow it down much and it left a lot of ground to cover when night was falling fast.

North watched other workers heading toward inns for the night rest and drinking, their earnings safely tucked away. He needed to move quickly—deliver the letter, get his Fate Token, and somehow become a Visionary before his tax came due and surreal charm got him killed. The alternative wasn't something he wanted to contemplate.

He stepped onto the market road, immediately immersed in a bustling, vibrant scene. Despite the late hour, the Inner City was far from quiet. If anything, it seemed even more alive at night—though the character of the crowd had shifted from day laborers to more refined evening clientele. Further, the street was lined with lantern-lit stalls, glowing in shades of blue, red, and gold, casting soft reflections across the polished stone pathways. A rich aroma filled the air—sizzling skewers of spirit beast meat, freshly brewed herbal teas, and the faint, sweet scent of pastries. Street performers played lute-like instruments, their melodies blending with the constant murmur of merchants haggling with customers.

North tucked his hands into his sleeves, walking at a steady, unhurried pace.

Got to be careful who I ask, North thought, scanning faces in the crowd. He had one goal—finding the Golden Feather Pavilion. But asking just anyone could get him into unnecessary trouble.

So, he took his time.

He observed.

* No young masters. Those guys would take offense at anything.

* No brutes or mercenaries. He didn’t need a random brawl over a misunderstanding.

* No scheming merchants. They might try to scam him just for fun.

He watched a young master nearly execute a merchant for suggesting his jade ornament wasn't authentic. Three streets over, someone got thrown through a wall for accidentally brushing against a woman's sleeve. North kept walking, cataloging the types of people he encountered. The merchant selling candied spirit fruits? Too busy arguing with a customer about prices. The muscled cultivator with three swords? Definitely not. The old woman feeding spirit birds? She'd launched into a thirty-minute lecture when someone else asked her a simple question.

Time slipped by as he wove through the market, passing by jewelers, artifact forgers, and talisman shops. The scent of sizzling street food drifted through the air, making his stomach grumble in protest. Every so often, he stopped to ask for directions. To his surprise, the locals were actually helpful. No sneers, no racist insults, no ridiculous accusations of him being an undercover demonic cultivator. Just normal Npcs giving normal answers.

North almost felt suspicious. Had he stumbled into the only sane part of this world?

Finally, for walking over an hour, slowly gathering clues. He saw it.

The building stood tall, constructed from dark golden wood, with intricate carvings of phoenix feathers along its outer walls. The entrance was wide, its massive double doors left open, revealing a well-lit interior that glowed with soft golden light.

A large inscribed plaque above the entrance bore the elegant words:

[Golden Feather Pavilion – Where Fortunes Rise & Fall]

North stared at it for a long moment. And then sighed. "An auction house," he muttered under his breath. "How original."

Seriously. Of course, it had to be an auction house. There was no way it could have been a quiet tea house or a normal messenger hall. Still, he wasn’t here to buy anything, he was as poor as a newborn child into the world.

The two men standing at the entrance were monsters in human form. Each was built like an armored ox, their broad chests covered in formal uniforms bearing the golden feather insignia. One had a jagged scar running down his jaw, while the other looked like he could crush a boulder with his bare hands.

North glanced down at his own and resisted the urge to sigh. He already knew how this would go. They’d see his clothes—the dust-covered hoodie and slightly worn-out pants. They’d smell the lingering sweat from working in the Plum Gardens all day.

And then they’d assume he was some random beggar who wandered here by mistake.

This was going to be annoying. Still… he had no choice.

He climbed the stairs slowly, keeping his hands visible. The guards' eyes tracked his movement, their expressions shifting from boredom to mild disdain.

"The Golden Feather Pavillion is closed," the left guard said before North could even open his mouth. "Next opening is the seventh day of the month."

"Right, I figured," North said, keeping his tone neutral, not overly friendly, not apologetic.

"But I’m not here for the auction."

Scarface raised an eyebrow, finally giving him a proper look. North noticed the brief flicker of disgust as the guard’s eyes traveled over his dusty clothes.

"Uh-huh," Scarface drawled, unimpressed. "Then what do you want?"

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

North straightened slightly, deciding to keep this simple. "I have a letter for Yun Jian," he said, tapping his sleeve where the envelope was tucked. "From Old Wei.”

That got a reaction. Scarface’s bored expression sharpened slightly. The second guard grunted.

"Old Wei, huh?" Scarface muttered, rubbing his jaw as if trying to remember. North caught the subtle shift in posture—they had gone from uninterested to mildly attentive. Which meant Quest Giver Wei wasn’t just some random character to them or others. Interesting.

The second guard leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "And why," he asked slowly, "would Wei send someone like you?"

North resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yep. There it was. The "you look too poor or different to be here" assumption.

He kept his face blank but slight irritation in his voice. "Why don’t you ask him yourself?" North said flatly. "I’m just the delivery guy."

Scarface exchanged glances with the second guard. For a moment, North thought they might actually tell him to get lost. Then, Scarface let out a frustrated sigh, shifting his halberd aside.

"Wait here," he muttered, turning toward the side entrance.

Scarface stepped inside, vanishing behind the heavy wooden doors, leaving North alone with the second guard.

Scarface reappeared, "Yun Jian will see you now."

North exhaled slowly. Without another word, Scarface turned and motioned for him to follow. North stepped inside. He was led down a dimly lit corridor, the golden glow from the lamps casting long shadows on the lacquered wooden walls.

Scarface didn’t say a word, merely stopping in front of a large set of ornate doors, then pushing them open.

"Go in."

North braced himself and stepped forward. Inside, the space was surprisingly simple. A large, circular room, lined with shelves filled with rare artifacts, scrolls, and sealed jade slips. At its center, a low wooden table sat atop an expensive rug, two chairs placed on either side. And behind that table—Sat Yun Jian.

Yun Jian wasn’t what North had expected. He was broad-shouldered but lean, dressed in dark red robes lined with faint golden embroidery. His hair was loosely tied back, revealing sharp, well-defined features, and dark, unreadable eyes. Moreover, despite the refined elegance of the room, Yun Jian didn’t seem like a businessman. Not entirely. Because the moment North looked at him—he felt it. Pressure. Not physical. Not like the oppressive presence of an arrogant young master trying to flaunt their power. This was deeper. Sharper. Controlled.

It wasn’t just power—it was the presence of someone who had crossed a line very few ever reached.

[Template Analysis: Unable to Process]

Likely Rank Five… or Higher!

Yun Jian didn’t speak immediately. Instead, he lifted a delicate porcelain cup, swirling the dark red wine within it. The scent was rich, aged, refined.

With a calm motion, he took a slow sip, then finally motioned toward the chair in front of him. "Take a seat."

North hesitated only for a second before complying.

"So," he said, setting his cup down, "Wei sent you."

North met his gaze, keeping his voice even. "Yes. He told me to deliver something."

Yun Jian’s eyes glinted faintly. "Hm. And you agreed just like that?"

North tilted his head slightly. "It was a job."

A flicker of amusement passed through Yun Jian’s expression, which North couldn’t understand. He was a noob, he quickly realized in many matters at that. He shook his head internally, making a mental note for gathering more enough.

Thereafter, he simply reached into his sleeve, pulling out the sealed letter. "Here," he said simply.

He placed it on the table between them. For a moment, Yun Jian simply stared at it, his fingers tapping lightly against the wooden surface. Then, slowly, he reached forward, taking the letter into his hands.

North exhaled internally.

[Quest Completed: Deliver Wei's Letter to Yun Jian]

Now, there was only one thing left. North leaned back slightly. "So," he said, "I assume this is where I get my payment?"

He watched as Yun Jian placed the letter aside without even opening it. Not a single flicker of interest or concern. As if whatever was inside wasn’t urgent, or he already knew what it contained.

Instead, the man simply lifted his wine cup again, taking a slow sip before resting his elbow against the table, "what did Old Wei promise you as payment?"

North didn’t hesitate.

"A Fate Token."

For a brief second, Yun Jian raised his burrow in a mild interest. North didn’t react. He had already expected this. Most true visionaries used Fate Token at a young age.

Then, Yun Jian simply set his wine cup down and glanced toward the door. "Call for Ruolan," he ordered.

A few seconds later, a soft knock echoed through the quiet office. The heavy doors creaked open, and a woman stepped inside. She was tall, poised, and dressed in a refined indigo robe, her hair neatly tied into a flowing braid. Her sharp features and calm demeanor immediately suggested someone of efficiency and authority.

North knew the type. High-Ranking Servant: Prefers efficiency, dislikes wasting time.

Yun Jian glanced at her. "Retrieve a Fate Token."

The woman—Ruolan—barely hesitated. "Yes, Master Yun," she said smoothly, bowing before immediately turning and exiting.

She moved fast. Efficient. Professional. North sat there, suddenly very aware of how awkwardly silent the room had become. Yun Jian didn’t say anything. Just picked up his wine again, sipping slowly. North felt the man was utterly bored.

"You like to drink?" Yun Jian glanced at him.

North shook his head. "Not really."

Yun Jian simply hummed, swirling his wine lazily. And then… silence again. A few minutes later, Ruolan returned. This time, she was carrying a small jade box. She walked gracefully toward the table, stopping beside North. Her nose wrinkled slightly. North didn’t miss it. He also didn’t care. He had been working all day, carrying crates, clearing bamboo groves, handling spirit lanterns. Of course, he smelled like dirt, sweat.

Instead of reacting, he simply extended his hand, taking the jade box from her grasp. Ruolan withdrew quickly, as if not wanting to stand too close. North shook his head internally, he needed to take a bath and book a resting place for the night next. Luckily he had earned some money and hopefully, it’ll be enough for the night. Still, his focus shifted instantly to the object. His hands trembled slightly as he opened it. Inside lay exactly what he'd spent countless hours programming into his game: a Fate Token.

The translucent crystal orb sat in velvet padding, and within it, a miniature golden thread seemed to dance and twist of its own accord. It was exactly as he'd designed it, yet somehow more real, more significant than anything he'd ever rendered on his computer screen.

[Item Analysis: Fate Token]

[Status: Authentic]

[Function: Visionary Catalyst/Template Modifier]

I made you, he thought, staring at the golden thread, his fingers brushing over the surface. But like everything else here, you've become something more than just code.

Originally, the Simulator had been nothing more than an open-source project—a blank framework developed by some kind-hearted programmer and uploaded for the open-source community to play around with, modify, and expand however they pleased. Thus at first, it had been a collaborative effort, and a community of coders came together to experiment with world-building, mechanics, and magical systems. Anyone could add whatever they wanted—new kingdom, absurdly overpowered techniques, ridiculous plotlines, even entire realms filled with bizarre logic.

But over time, the project fell into obscurity, abandoned as trends shifted and newer, shinier projects took over.

That’s when North forked it into his private server. What had started as a community experiment became his personal playground. He privatized the project, taking full control, rewriting vast portions of the code, and turning it into something uniquely his own. For years, he tweaked, adjusted, and refined the world, crafting elaborate mechanics, devious plot triggers, and let’s-be-honest-this-is-rigged difficulty settings—all for his own amusement. Thus, he was very well aware of many common if not most of the items inside.

He also knew how they worked. And now he was holding one of the most important or legacy items for the first time. It felt unique and strangely attractive to look at.

Across the table, Yun Jian watched him quietly. Not saying anything. Just studying. Perhaps he was too bored, or maybe he just wanted to stare at North’s out of place face, wondering where this man had come from.

North carefully closed the jade box, tucking it into his sleeve. "Alright," he said, leaning back slightly. "That’s done."

He tucked the jade box securely inside his pocket, ensuring the Fate Token was protected. He had waited long enough for this—there was no way he was going to let some random street thief or unexpected accident take it from him.

Standing up from his seat, he gave Yun Jian a slight nod. "Thanks for this," he said, keeping his tone neutral.

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode toward the exit. The doors to the Golden Feather Pavilion shut behind him with a soft thud, and North finally felt like he could breathe properly again in the cold air.

The streets of the Inner City were still lively due to the ongoing festival. Colorful lanterns swayed overhead, casting warm light onto the bustling roads, while distant laughter and the rhythmic beat of festival drums echoed through the air. But North was too exhausted to even consider stopping at Plum Gardens to catch a glimpse of four seasons. What’s more, the guards at the entrance might not even let him in in his current state. Dust-covered, sore, and visibly drained, he didn’t exactly look like someone who belonged in the Inner City.

He exhaled slowly, stretching his aching shoulders. It had been a long day.

He already knew where he was heading. During a water break in the Plum Gardens, he'd asked one of his fellow laborers about lodging.

"Most of us stay at the Dancing Carp Inn," the worker had said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Cheap beds, decent food, and the owner doesn't ask questions as long as you pay up front."

As North strolled, his mind drifted, subconsciously comparing this world to Earth.

In some ways, they were similar.

* There were streets, businesses, workers, and an economy.

* There was a clear divide between rich and poor.

* The basic patterns of life—trade, hierarchy, social structure—remained unchanged.

But in many ways… this world was alien.

Public transportation wasn’t a train or a bus. Instead, he passed by massive jumping toad houses that could carry passengers across districts, their slimy skin shimmering under the lantern light.

There were slithering serpent taxis, their polished scales reflecting the city’s glow, smoothly gliding along the streets. Despite their huge sizes, they were quite fast. Some passengers sat in small carriages strapped to their backs, while others simply rode them like a horse.

Then there were Visionaries.

In the end, there was all the other weird stuff—things that couldn’t be encountered in the outside world or even noticed through the Simulator’s external interface. Some details were too subtle, too intricate to be captured just by coding and observing from a screen. One had to step inside the world to truly experience it

Despite how tempting it was to take one of the unique public transports, North resisted. Because everything cost money. So, he walked. For over an hour and a half. By the time he reached the district where the Dancing Carp Inn was located, his legs were sore, his back ached, and his feet felt like they’d been through a battlefield. But at least he made it safely. Rather than entering Dancing Carp, North looked around for a quieter alternative nearby. The reason was simple: Because of it being cheaper than other places in the Inner City, it catered to laborers and low-ranking merchants.

That meant two things:

1. It was affordable.

2. It was loud and packed.

North didn’t hate the idea of a rowdy environment, but for safety reasons, he decided to stay in another nearby inn instead. If something stupid happened overnight—like some drunk worker getting into a brawl—he didn’t want to be caught in it.

It didn’t take long. A smaller establishment, the Silver Blossom Inn, sat just a short walk away. It was older, but it looked clean and had an open sign hanging outside. But as North stepped inside, immediately, his nose was hit with the thick, alcohol-laced air. The warm scent of fermented drinks, grilled meat, and the faint trace of sweat from too many people crammed into one place assaulted his senses. The inn was packed to the brim. Despite his best efforts to avoid large crowds, he had walked straight into one. Alas… It was festival season, and there was nothing he could do about it—except grumble and suffer.

The innkeeper, a middle-aged man with a graying beard, looked up from behind the counter.

"Need a room?"

"Yeah. A private one," North said, placing his pouch of Nether Coins on the counter. "Also a warm bath. And food."

The man grunted, scratching his chin. "Bath and food come with the room. How long you staying?"

"Just the night."

The innkeeper nodded. "That’ll be fifty copper tales or half a Nether Coin."

North handed over one full Nether Coin, and the man quickly counted out copper currency that clinked heavily in North's palm.

So that's the exchange rate, North thought, mentally noting how a Nether Coin was worth. As he inspected the coins, he also realized something very interesting. Due to working at Plum Gardens, his pay had been three times higher than standard labor wages. That meant he had been paid a very generous sum for a single day’s work. If he had been working normal jobs, his pay for that day would have been barely a fraction of what he earned. North chuckled. So, he had basically been overpaid. Nice.

A young servant led him to his room on the second floor. It was small but clean, with a window overlooking the street and a bed that looked impossibly inviting after his long day.

"Bath will be ready in a quarter hour," the servant said. "Food shortly after. Would sir prefer the wine now or with dinner?"

"With dinner is fine," North replied, already imagining how good it would feel to be clean.

His food arrived shortly after—a hot plate of roasted beast meat, some fragrant rice, and a small side of preserved vegetables.

A jug of cheap wine was placed on the table as well.

North sat down, stretching his sore legs as he poured himself a cup of wine.

As he took a sip, he mentally ran through his plans.

[Current Status:]

✔ He had money.

✔ He had shelter.

✔ He had food.

✔ And most importantly… he had the Fate Token.

In one day, he had accomplished a lit and after tonight, he would no longer be just a bystander in this world.

He would become a Visionary.

A slow grin spread across his lips. "Time to make things interesting."

He lifted the cup of wine, took a final sip, then locked the door.

It was time.

[System Alert: Base Template "Newbie Luck" Expiring]

[Warning: Your current Archetype will be soon transition.]

[Installed Archetype: "Newbie Luck" → "Trash Transmigrator"]

[Recommendation: Find and install a new Template immediately.]

North stared at the glowing text, blinking slowly.

"Well… shit."