As Thomas surveyed the rocky terrain, he finally spotted a narrow path winding down the mountain. Relief washed over him, but just as he began to move, that familiar mechanical voice chimed in again: Transfer Complete.
“This is not what I think it is, is it?” he muttered to himself, feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation. “Status.” He waited for a moment, but nothing happened. He sighed, half-relieved, half-disappointed. Maybe this is all just a dream, he thought, allowing a sense of calm to settle over him.
Just then, a translucent window popped up in front of him, shimmering in the sunlight. “Try saying ‘profile,’” it suggested, glowing with potential.
“So…” he hesitated, then said, “profile.”
Another window materialized, revealing a set of stats that made his brow furrow.
Strength 4 Agility 4 Dexterity 5 Endurance 3 Vitality 5 Intelligence 8 Charm 3 Magic 7
Below the stats, a list of skills appeared:
* Internet Active Skill: Able to access the internet.
* Programming Passive: Enhances coding abilities.
* Kali Passive Skill: Trained in the martial art of Kali, improving hand-to-hand combat efficiency.
Thomas blinked at the screen, a mix of confusion and amusement washing over him. “So, I’m basically a nerdy fighter with a decent shot at coding my way out of any trouble?” He chuckled, shaking his head. This wasn’t what he expected from a world filled with magic and dragons, but he had to admit, it was kind of fitting.
He glanced back at the path leading down, determination sparking within him. With these stats and skills, maybe he had more to offer in this new world than he thought. “Let’s see what kind of adventure awaits me,” he said, taking a deep breath and stepping onto the path.
As Thomas scanned his stats, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the Internet Skill. Of all things to carry over, why that one? he thought, completely ignoring it for the moment. But then a troubling question crept into his mind. How the hell could I access the internet without a computer?
Feeling a bit ridiculous, he waved his hand in the air, trying to mimic Spider-Man’s iconic web-slinging gesture. “Internet!” he said aloud, half-expecting it to be a joke. To his shock, a window popped up in front of him, shimmering with digital energy.
His eyes widened as he stared at it, his heart sinking. “No, no, no…” he groaned, despair creeping in. “My account isn’t bound? What does that even mean?” He watched helplessly as the screen displayed an empty interface. His YouTube algorithm—gone. All those bookmarked sites—erased. The passwords to countless accounts he’d struggled to remember—poof! Just like that.
“What the hell?” he exclaimed, frustration boiling over. The cherry on top was that the Internet Skill opened up in an Edge browser. Are you kidding me? he thought, exasperated. Edge was the last browser he’d ever choose; he’d only used it to download Chrome.
He paced back and forth, trying to process the absurdity of the situation. “Great, I’m stuck in some fantasy world, and the only way to connect to the internet is through the crappiest browser out there. Just my luck.”
Determined to explore the limits of his Internet Active Skill, Thomas focused on the window that had popped up. “Alright, let’s see what you can do,” he muttered, trying to suppress his growing curiosity. He thought of AI chatbot sites, and to his surprise, they appeared before him. He also found links to Stack Overflow, Reddit, YouTube, and even X.
Intrigued, he decided to give the AI chatbot a shot. As he initiated the interaction, a message popped up: Premium Subscription Active—Remaining Time: Infinite. Thomas blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Infinite? What the hell does that even mean? I’ve never had a premium subscription for anything!”
He shook his head, moving on to YouTube, where he found his previous watch history intact. At least that was a small win. But when he checked Reddit, he realized he still needed to create a new account. Just my luck, he thought, feeling the weight of frustration return.
“Alright, let’s turn off this internet nonsense for now,” he decided, waving his hand dismissively at the window. He didn’t need the distractions of the digital world while he was trying to figure out how to survive in this one.
His thoughts shifted back to the immediate problem at hand: how the hell was he going to get down the mountain? An idea struck him, and a grin crept across his face. What if I called a dragon?
He chuckled at the absurdity of it all. “Hey, dragon! Can you give me a lift?” he said aloud, glancing at the sky, half-expecting one of the majestic creatures to swoop down and offer him a ride. It was a long shot, but at this point, he was willing to try anything.
Standing at the edge of the rocky platform, he shouted into the open air, “Yo, any dragons up there? I could use a ride down!” His voice echoed off the cliffs, and for a moment, he felt utterly ridiculous. But then again, in a world where anything was possible, who knew what might happen?
With a sudden burst of defiance, Thomas shook his head, dismissing the absurdity of it all. “Fuck this shit!” he yelled, taking a deep breath and jumping off the rocky ledge. If this is a dream, I won’t die, he reasoned. If anything, it’ll just wake me up from this coma.
As he fell, the rush of wind whipped around him, exhilarating and terrifying all at once. The ground rushed up to meet him, and just when he thought he’d hit the earth like a ton of bricks, a window flashed before his eyes: Emergency Systems Activated.
Before he could process what that meant, he felt an unfamiliar sensation. Instead of crashing, he began to float gently downward, enveloped in a soft blue glow. The energy wrapped around him like a protective cocoon, guiding him safely to the ground.
Amazed and utterly confused, Thomas landed on his feet without so much as a stumble, staring at the blue light that faded away. “What the hell just happened?” he muttered, looking around as if expecting someone to jump out and explain.
His attention was drawn to the window still hovering in his field of vision, displaying a countdown timer: Cooldown: 29:23:59:55. He blinked at it, realizing it indicated a full 30-day cooldown for whatever this mysterious emergency system was.
“Thirty days?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I can’t do that again for a month?”
His heart raced with a mix of disbelief and excitement. I just floated down from a cliff like some kind of superhero, he thought, still trying to wrap his head around it all. Maybe this wasn’t just a dream; maybe he had actually landed in a fantasy world filled with possibilities—and powers—beyond his wildest imagination.
Despite the incredible things he had just experienced, Thomas still couldn't shake the feeling that he was trapped in some bizarre dream. After all, the harmful elements of reality were still looming, just waiting to catch up with him. He stood in the vast forest, surrounded by towering trees and the sounds of wildlife, but his mind kept wandering back to his state of undress.
He took a few steps forward, and the cool breeze brushed against his exposed skin, making him acutely aware of just how uncomfortable this situation was. “Not exactly how I pictured my first day in a fantasy world,” he muttered, trying to adjust to the weirdness of it all. Who the hell walks around with their private parts flapping in the wind?
Determined to remedy the situation, he activated his Internet Skill, thinking it might help him find a solution. As he searched for something akin to primitive underwear, he found no magical clothing stores or enchanted boutiques, just a few ideas on how to make do with what nature provided.
With a resigned sigh, he decided to improvise. After gathering some large leaves and a length of vine, he set to work crafting a makeshift loincloth. It took a bit of trial and error, but eventually, he fashioned something that was at least marginally effective.
Slipping into his creation, he felt a mix of satisfaction and discomfort. The leaves were a bit scratchy, and the wind still managed to sneak its way through, but it was a hell of a lot better than nothing. “Well, it’s not fashion week in Paris, but it’ll do,” he said with a wry grin, feeling a touch more secure.
Now that he was slightly less exposed, Thomas took a deep breath and surveyed his surroundings. The forest was dense and teeming with life, a vibrant green world filled with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. It was breathtaking, but he couldn’t forget the urgency of his situation.
As Thomas navigated through the lush greenery, he soon spotted a dirt path cutting through the forest. He could hear the creaking of wheels and the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves. A merchant wagon was approaching, and for once, it didn’t look like it had been broken down or attacked by bandits—unlike every generic isekai manga he’d ever read.
Feeling a surge of boldness, he stepped into the path, waving his arms to flag them down. He wasn’t afraid or embarrassed by his leaf loincloth; he was in a new world, and he was ready to make some connections. The wagon came to a halt, but the moment he stepped forward, two escorts emerged from the shadows, blocking his way.
One was clad in light armor, a sword drawn and aimed directly at him, while the other wore a robe adorned with mystic symbols, gripping a glowing staff that radiated power. Great, a warrior and a mage, Thomas thought, his heart racing. I guess I’ll need to choose my words carefully.
“Hey there!” he called out, trying to sound confident. “I was wondering if I could come along with you guys?”
The armored escort exchanged a skeptical glance with the robed mage, both of them clearly unimpressed by his nearly naked appearance. The warrior stepped forward, his sword unwavering. “And why should we allow a naked stranger to travel with us? We don’t know you, and you don’t look like you belong here.”
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Thomas raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I get it, I get it. But I’m just trying to find a town or somewhere to get some clothes, you know? I promise I’m not a threat.”
The mage frowned, glancing back at the wagon as if weighing his options. But it was clear they didn’t want a random, nearly naked guy tagging along. After a moment of deliberation, the warrior shook his head. “Move aside. We have a cargo to deliver and no time for hitchhikers.”
With that, the wagon rolled past him, and Thomas watched as the two escorts resumed their positions, their expressions leaving no room for doubt.
“Great, thanks for nothing,” he muttered under his breath as the wagon disappeared down the path.
But as he stood there, he couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. At least now he knew a town was nearby. He just had to figure out a way to be presentable before he approached any more strangers.
Taking a deep breath, he glanced around the forest, plotting his next move. “Alright, Thomas, time to find some clothes,” he said to himself, determined to make a better impression on his next opportunity. With that, he resumed his trek down the dirt path, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
As Thomas trudged deeper into the forest, frustration began to mount. He was a programmer, after all; his experience revolved around sitting at a desk, lazily coaxing code into life while munching on snacks. Survival skills? Not exactly in his repertoire.
Then an idea hit him like a lightning bolt. Wait a minute, I have the Internet Skill. I can access YouTube tutorials! His heart raced at the thought. With a little luck, he could learn how to make himself some proper clothing. He recalled seeing videos about crafting leather outfits. But that meant he needed to hunt for animals, and for that, he needed a bow.
Thomas sighed, looking around the dense forest. “Alright, let’s get this done,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. It took a few grueling hours of trial and error, but eventually, he managed to craft a makeshift bow and a handful of arrows. Finding the right wood was a challenge; he had to strip branches of their bark and flex the wood just right.
As he admired his handiwork, his stomach growled, reminding him that he was also hungry. Great, he thought. Not only am I half-naked, but I’m also starving. He decided it was time to put his new bow to the test.
After wandering the forest for a bit, he spotted a rabbit nibbling on some grass. Heart pounding, he carefully notched an arrow and took aim. With a steady breath, he released. The arrow flew sideways, barely missing the rabbit, which scampered away in a flash of fluffy tails. “Shit!” Thomas shouted, feeling the sting of embarrassment.
Not one to give up easily, he practiced again and again. With each shot, he learned to adjust his aim and stance, his frustration slowly turning into determination. After several attempts that saw arrows flying wildly off-target, he finally felt a rush of triumph as he released an arrow that hit its mark.
The rabbit dropped, and Thomas stood there, chest heaving with excitement and disbelief. “I did it! I actually did it!” he exclaimed, feeling a mix of pride and hunger.
He approached his first successful hunt, a sense of accomplishment washing over him. “Alright, little buddy, you’ll make a fine meal,” he said, kneeling down. He knew he had to learn how to skin and prepare it, but for now, he was just grateful to have taken a step closer to survival in this strange new world.
As the adrenaline of the hunt faded, Thomas suddenly realized he had overlooked a crucial detail—he needed a knife to skin the rabbit. “Crap, how could I forget that?” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. He quickly activated his Internet Skill again, scrolling through the tutorials on making a stone knife.
The amount of work required to create a perfect blade from rock was staggering. He felt a sense of dread creeping in as he watched the lengthy process unfold in the videos. “Great, just what I need—a crafting minigame in a survival situation,” he grumbled, wishing he could just magically summon the tool.
But then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something gleaming in the sunlight. Curious, he turned his head and was shocked to see a grave nestled among the trees. He hesitated for a moment but felt a strange compulsion to approach it. As he got closer, the glint caught his attention again, and he squinted down to see a knife sticking out of the dirt.
“Well, this is just ridiculous,” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. A grave with a knife? How very convenient. He figured it was some sort of plot armor, a quirk of this new world he was navigating. “The dead won’t need it anyway,” he reasoned, pulling the knife free from the earth.
With his newfound tool in hand, he returned to the rabbit, his spirits lifting. As he prepared to skin it, he quickly activated the Internet Skill again, searching for a skinning tutorial. He watched the video intently, pausing occasionally to mimic the steps, knife in hand.
“Okay, so you start here and—” he said aloud, following the instructions as best he could. His heart raced as he cut into the rabbit's skin, the process both gruesome and oddly fascinating. He grimaced but pressed on, determined to make this meal count.
Despite the macabre circumstances, he found himself laughing at the absurdity of it all. Here he was, a guy who had spent most of his life coding in a cramped apartment, now skinning a rabbit in a fantasy forest while using the internet to learn how. It felt surreal, but exhilarating too.
Once he finished, he held up the skinned rabbit, feeling a rush of accomplishment. “Alright, Thomas, you’re officially a hunter now,” he said, trying to mask the queasiness in his stomach.
After skinning the rabbit and cutting it into manageable pieces, Thomas felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him—until he realized he had forgotten one crucial element: fire. “Great, how the hell am I supposed to cook this?” he muttered, looking down at the raw meat in his hands.
He stood there for a moment, hoping for some kind of plot armor, something that would grant him the gift of fire magic or maybe a handy torch just lying around nearby. But of course, nothing happened. He sighed, resigned to the reality of his situation. “Guess I’ll have to do this the hard way,” he grumbled, rubbing his hands together to generate some warmth.
He picked up a sturdy stick and began the arduous task of friction fire-making. Moments turned into what felt like hours as he rubbed the stick against a softer piece of wood. Each movement was repetitive, and frustration began to bubble up. “Why the hell did I forget this part? It’s literally fire! How could you forget about fire?” he cursed under his breath, channeling his irritation toward the fictional author of his life.
Just as he was about to give up hope, he spotted a wisp of smoke curling up into the air. “Wait—no way!” he exclaimed, excitement flooding his veins. Seizing the moment, he quickly tossed some dried leaves onto the growing pile of kindling.
To his utter relief, the flames began to flicker and dance, gradually taking hold of the dried materials. “Finally!” he cheered, almost doing a little victory dance. With the fire now crackling, he fashioned a makeshift spit from some sturdy sticks and skewered the rabbit pieces. He positioned them over the fire, letting the warmth work its magic.
As he cooked, he couldn’t help but notice the rabbit skin drying in the sun nearby. It was small and slightly misshapen, but maybe it could serve some purpose later on. “At least I’ll have something to wear,” he said, trying to focus on the positives.
After finishing his meal, Thomas felt a surge of confidence. If I can cook a rabbit, I can definitely hunt something bigger. With that thought in mind, he set out to explore the deeper parts of the forest, determined to find his next target.
He walked cautiously, his senses heightened as he ventured farther from his makeshift camp. As he moved, he began marking the trees with an “X” using his knife. This would help him remember the path he took in case he got turned around. “Can’t afford to get lost in here,” he muttered to himself, focused on making clear, noticeable marks.
The deeper he went, the more the forest changed. The trees grew thicker, their trunks wider and their branches weaving together to create a natural canopy. Sunlight filtered through in scattered beams, illuminating patches of moss and underbrush. He marveled at the beauty around him, but he didn’t let it distract him from his mission.
With each step, he scanned the ground for signs of larger game—tracks, scat, anything that might indicate what creatures roamed this part of the forest. He thought back to the tutorials he’d watched and how to identify animal trails. “Focus, Thomas, focus,” he reminded himself, his eyes darting back and forth.
After what felt like an eternity of searching, he spotted fresh tracks—a larger animal, possibly a deer. Excitement coursed through him. “Finally! Now we’re talking,” he whispered, kneeling down to inspect the prints closely. The earth was soft, making the details clearer. He followed the tracks, taking care to move silently through the underbrush.
As he crept along, he began to formulate a plan. He’d need to approach slowly, keeping the wind at his back to mask his scent. Thomas glanced back at the marks he’d made on the trees, ensuring he wouldn’t lose his way. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, a thrill he hadn’t experienced before.
But then, something caught his eye—a movement in the distance. He froze, his heart racing. A doe was grazing peacefully, her ears flicking as she nibbled on the grass. Thomas held his breath, taking a moment to steady his shaking hands. This was it; this was his chance.
He crouched low and reached for his bow, nocking an arrow with the utmost care. He focused on his breathing, trying to block out the noise of the forest around him. He couldn’t let fear or doubt creep in now.
Slowly, he raised his bow, taking aim. The world around him faded away until all that mattered was the target in front of him. He waited for the perfect moment—just a few more steps, and she’d be in range.
Just as he was about to release the arrow, a rustle in the bushes startled the doe. She lifted her head, nostrils flaring, sensing something was off. “No, no, come on!” Thomas hissed, frustration boiling inside him.
The doe bolted, disappearing into the dense foliage before he could take his shot. He let out a heavy sigh, lowering his bow. “Well, that was a bust,” he said, feeling a mix of disappointment and determination.
Determined not to let the doe get away so easily, Thomas pushed through the large bushes, his hands scraping against the thorns as he navigated the dense underbrush. The foliage was thicker here, making it a challenge to move silently, but he was fueled by a mix of adrenaline and stubbornness. He couldn’t let the opportunity slip away again.
After a few moments of struggle, he broke through the last barrier of bushes and stepped into a small clearing. His breath caught in his throat at the sight before him. A doe stood gracefully at the edge of a serene pond, her head lowered as she drank from the crystal-clear water. But more importantly, beside her was a large buck, majestic and imposing, with antlers that reached toward the sky.
Thomas crouched low, heart pounding. He could hardly believe his luck—this was exactly what he had been hoping to find. The buck seemed oblivious to his presence, its attention focused solely on the water. This is it, he thought, his mind racing. He steadied his breath, carefully lifting his bow and nocking an arrow.
He knew he had to act quickly; the moment of opportunity could vanish in an instant. He focused on the buck, blocking out everything else. His hand trembled slightly, but he forced himself to steady it. He had practiced enough with the bow now to feel confident, but this was different—this was a real hunt.
The doe suddenly lifted her head, ears perked up. Thomas froze, knowing he had to remain absolutely still. The world around him seemed to fade away again, the sounds of the forest becoming distant whispers. Time stretched as he waited, his eyes fixed on the buck.
Then, just as he thought the moment might pass, the buck turned slightly, exposing its side. Thomas seized the opportunity, pulling back on the bowstring. He aimed, concentrating on that sweet spot just behind the shoulder where he knew the arrow would do the most damage.
With a steady breath, he released the arrow, watching in slow motion as it flew through the air, piercing the silence of the forest. The arrow found its mark, striking the buck with a solid thud. For a brief moment, everything felt surreal—the triumph, the beauty of the moment, the primal instinct kicking in.
The buck let out a startled grunt, leaping into the air before bolting into the woods, crashing through the underbrush. “Shit, I hit him!” Thomas exclaimed, a mix of exhilaration and concern flooding his senses. He quickly grabbed his gear and took off after it, heart racing.
He followed the trail of broken branches and disturbed leaves, keeping his eyes peeled for signs of where the buck had gone. Every rustle made him anxious, but he pushed on, determined to track it down.
After a few minutes of chasing, he spotted a flash of movement through the trees. The buck stumbled, clearly weakened from the hit. Thomas felt a surge of both relief and responsibility. He had to finish this, to ensure the animal didn’t suffer.
With renewed urgency, he took aim once more, finding a clear shot between the trees. He released another arrow, and it flew true, striking the buck again. The animal staggered and fell to the ground, the struggle leaving its body. Thomas approached cautiously, a mixture of emotions washing over him—pride, respect, and a hint of sadness.
He knelt beside the buck, acknowledging the life he had taken. “Thank you for your sacrifice,” he whispered, feeling a deep connection to the wild. This was survival, this was life in the forest. He felt the weight of the moment and realized he was no longer just a programmer but a part of this world, learning its rules and rhythms.