After 5000 hours in the game Peaceful Valley and two all-nighters in a row, Nathan was on the verge of greatness. He’d found the perfect lake with the right specs. The water's acidity, the bait, and the stars aligned. They were just right to catch the legendary Ubërfish.
He reached to the right and groped through the darkness for a drink. On the way there, his hand bumped into one of his old college textbooks and knocked it to the ground. He ignored it and grabbed the cheap gas station coffee that had been fueling him up to this point.
The smell wafted up to his nose, overpowering the perpetual pizza scent that characterized his apartment. He was normally a cappuccino guy, but the drink he was holding was bitter and black as the night.
Sacrifices had to be made to achieve Fishing Greatness.
He tilted his head back and choked down the caffeine, then returned his attention to the screen. Still nothing, just the calming 16-bit music.
Nathan clicked his mouse key and his in-game character swung out his fishing rod. The hook flew through the air before landing into the lake’s shitty 2.5D poly graphics. On his side, a spreadsheet with hundreds of entries was on another monitor. In the background, his twenty-year-old video card whirred with a buzz.
In the glare of his screen, he spotted his reflection. Greasy brown hair and green eyes, a figure so thin he looked more like a weed.
He tapped the desk with his free hand, then put his chin in his palm.
Peaceful Valley was honestly a pretty mediocre game, all things considered. The only interesting thing about it was that no one had ever gotten 100% in the game. There was a fish that was basically imposisble to catch. The only reason people knew about it was through data mining.
Nathan, having nothing better to do and having completed every other game in his library, decided to go for the achievement. He’d also worked on his farm’s looks in between fishing trips, creating a giant stone monument to radishes.
The rod had twitched. His focus narrowed to a laser point. He couldn’t afford to mess this one up, who knew if he’d get another chance?
The rod twitched again. Nathan’s throat went dry.
The golden pop-up telling him to click appeared—!
His phone rang loudly in his apartment. He misclicked and changed his item from a rod to a turnip.
Nathan stood up slowly, then flipped the table and scattered everything all over the floor.
Nathan stared at the caller ID: Sarah. His sister. His older sister.
He let it ring twice more before answering. "What?"
"Wow, feeling the love," Sarah said. Through the phone, he could hear the rustle of what was probably her wedding dress. "You're not at Mom and Dad's yet."
It wasn't a question. Nathan's eyes drifted to his monitor, lying face-down on the floor after his earlier outburst. Still intact, thankfully. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."
"Let me guess—it’s some farming game?”
"It's not always about games, Sarah."
“Yeah, sometimes it's about avoiding your family." Her voice softened. "Remember that internet café we used to go to? I’d destroy everyone, and I'd pretend I didn't know you just so I could watch people's faces when my archrival turned out to be my baby brother."
Despite himself, Nathan smiled. "You're remembering it wrong. I got my ass kicked plenty."
"But you kept playing." She paused. “I… I wish you applied some of that determination to other things in life.”
The smile faded. Nathan righted his overturned table, buying time before he had to respond. "Look, I know what you're doing. But maybe it's better if I sit this one out. Your wedding should be perfect, and me being there..." He trailed off.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence." The sharpness in Sarah's voice made him flinch. "You're my brother. You're family. Whatever's going on in that head of yours, whatever you think you did or didn't do - it doesn't change that."
Nathan's throat tightened. The game music still playing in the background felt suddenly hollow, meaningless. "Sarah-"
"No, listen to me. I'm getting married tomorrow, and I want my little brother there. Not because Mom's making me ask, not because it's what we're 'supposed' to do. Because I love you, you idiot, and that's never going to change."
The dial tone rang out. He stood in silence for a second, then he dashed for the closet and threw his suit onto his bed, barely missing the open pizza box. He wasn’t going to be the one to ruin his sister’s wedding, damn it. If she wanted him there, then that’s what she’d get.
He sniffed the air and looked down at his armpit. Nathan hadn’t exactly taken care of himself over the past couple of days. He rushed for the shower.
After a one-minute sprinkle, he burst out of the bathroom dripping wet and buck-naked. He quickly rubbed a towel over himself, then slipped his suit on. As soon as he had it on, he slammed his apartment door open and ran out. In the background, he heard an angry yell from one of his neighbors.
He threw the door shut behind him and raced to the elevator. It was at floor zero. He hit the button. Seconds ticked by. He tapped his feet and waited for the elevator to go up. After a full minute, the number hadn’t changed. He scowled. Was it under maintenance?
The number remained the same, taunting him. He ran to the stairs and began the arduous trek to the first floor. After several minutes, he tumbled to the bottom, his chest heaving.
“Fine—“ he gasped for breath. “—Maybe the gym suggestion has some merit!”
After a moment, he pushed himself up and ran to his car. He swung open his door, hopped in, and started the car.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
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Nathan’s fingers drummed against the wheel. The inside of the car was silent. Normally, he would’ve had the radio on, but his mind was too busy to even consider listening to music.
The sky outside was an odd red color—some kind of atmospheric phenomenon? Whatever, it didn’t matter to Nathan. He had to pick up a gift for Sarah. The problem was that he wasn’t exactly rolling in dough.
Still, he might be able to get something at a bargain if he was lucky.
After a few more minutes, he stopped at a dollar store and rushed inside. He tripped on a loose shoelace, smashing into the ground with a loud thud. The cashier completely ignored him, staring at something on her phone with a shocked look. He pushed himself up and speed-walked over to the bargain section.
There weren’t exactly a lot of options. He picked up a bargain on men’s shampoo.
“Aren’t I just saying that she smells?” he muttered. He went through two more objects. “Too gaudy, too cheesy…”
In the background, someone shouted something. “Hey, look outside! What the hell’s going on!?”
Nathan picked up a blender, and then put it back. “No, she doesn’t like smoothies.”
The sound of a car braking outside entered Nathan’s ears.
He stopped a clerk.
“Excuse me! What’s a good gift that’ll convince my family that I’m not a failure?”
The clerk was looking outside. “Oh, uh, we have a toaster on sale? Listen, sir, I don’t think that—“
“Thanks!”
Nathan rushed over to the front and picked up the toaster. It was 75% off, according to the tag. He grinned.
“Perfect. Sarah will probably really appreciate this.”
The glass shattered behind him. He turned around and blinked.
People screamed at the top of their lungs and ran away from something. Nathan got closer to the window and looked up. There was a massive purple vortex with lightning flashing every couple of seconds across it.
Nathan’s jaw dropped.
“What the hell?” he said.
He didn’t have time to contemplate it, because seconds later, a blue box appeared in front of him. The world outside seemed to silence in the face of what he saw.
[Greetings, User.]
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"Sorry, what?" Nathan stared at the floating blue box, the toaster still clutched in his hands.
[Ah. Another human encountering the System. Splendid. Your world’s ambient mana levels have finally triggered my oversight. You’ve arrived, and so has my paperwork. Let’s try not to waste anyone's time, shall we?]
Nathan blinked rapidly, looking from the box to the chaos outside and back again. "Is this some kind of elaborate prank? Because if it is, it's really not funny. I'm already late for—"
[Analyzing user profile...]
A long pause followed, and Nathan could almost imagine the box sighing.
[You’ve got to be kidding me. Your highest affinity is… farming simulators?]
"Hey!" Nathan protested, momentarily forgetting the apocalyptic scenario unfolding around him. "There's nothing wrong with liking farming games!"
[Of course. Of course there isn’t. But when it comes to surviving the collapse of civilization, I somehow doubt turnip cultivation will be your salvation.]
Nathan scoffed. This thing was rather rude, wasn’t it?
[Analyzing talent …distribution…]
It suddenly stopped and a number appeared in a new box.
[1000]
Nathan blinked. It looked like the system had frozen.
[W-what?! No. Absolutely not. Do you know how many actual Warriors I've processed? Heroes? Chosen ones? And the universe gives ONE THOUSAND POINTS to some loser who spends his time harvesting virtual cabbage?! This is completely unfair!]
The box started pulsing an angry red.
Nathan blinked. “Is one thousand a lot?”
[I've given battlefield generals FIFTY points. I gave some old martial arts master two hundred. But YOU get a thousand?! This is... this is... You know what? Fine. Here's your points. I CANNOT WAIT to watch you waste this astronomical power.]
A list of skill categories appeared in front of Nathan. Swordsmanship, Spearmanship, Speech, Firearm Maintenance. The list went on and on. At the very bottom of it, one jumped out at Nathan. Fishing.
"I've got to be dreaming, right?" he said.
[Oh, if only. Then I could wake up from this bureaucratic nightmare. Do you have any idea how pissed my higher-ups will be when they find out about you?]
A new box popped up: [INCOMING CALL FROM DIMENSIONAL OVERSIGHT - REJECT/ACCEPT?]
The System quickly swatted it away.
[I’LL EXPLAIN IT TO YOU LATER, DAVE.]
Nathan's palms began to sweat as he looked over the list of skills. This was exactly why he stuck to farming games – no pressure, no real consequences. But now, faced with a decision that felt monumentally important (even if it was just a hallucination), he froze.
His eyes darted between the options. Swordsmanship? He'd never been athletic in the first place. Engineering? What if he wasn't as smart as he thought and couldn't properly use this skill? The pressure mounted, his breath coming in short gasps.
[Are you... are you having a panic attack? NOW? With more power than the last hundred users COMBINED?]
In a panic, Nathan's finger darted out, intending to close the screen or back out somehow. Instead, it landed squarely on 'Fishing' – the skill most reminiscent of his beloved farming games.
[No. Don't you dare. DON'T YOU FREAKING DARE—]
"Wait, no! I didn't mean to—" Nathan started, but in his flustered state, he accidentally tapped 'Confirm' instead of 'Cancel'.
The box went silent for a full ten seconds. When it spoke again, its text was shaking with rage.
[You just... you just spent ONE THOUSAND POINTS... on FISHING. I think I'm going to have an aneurysm. Do Systems even GET aneurysms? Because I'm pretty sure you just GAVE ME ONE.]
A simple fishing rod materialized in Nathan's hand. The box stared at it, then at him.
[That's it. That's IT. You want to play games? Let's play games. Congratulations, you’ll be starting off at Diamond, halfway up the skill tier list. HERE'S YOUR PATHETIC STICK OF DESTINY.]
"No, no, no," he said. "This can't be happening. I messed up. I always mess up. Can I start over? Please?"
[Start over? START OVER?! Oh, this is precious. The most powerful being I've processed in eight millennia wants a DO-OVER? Because he ACCIDENTALLY became the future God-Emperor of FISHING?]
The box's color shifted to a deep, murderous crimson.
[You know what? Welcome to the ULTRA HARD NIGHTMARE DEATH TUTORIAL. Because if I have to process this cosmic joke, I'm going to at least enjoy the show.]
Ultra hard what-now? Nathan felt a sinking feeling in his gut.
[Tutorial quest: "Sink or Swim." And yes, that's a fishing pun, you absolute waste of metaphysical power. Reach Level 15 or die trying. The Mother needs sustenance after all. Maybe you get a class at the end.]
"I can't do this. I'm not cut out for apocalypses or quests or... or fishing! I just wanted to buy a stupid toaster!"
[Well, I wanted to process a potential hero today, but apparently we're both going to be disappointed. Initiating transfer in 3... 2... Actually, you know what? No countdown for you.]
The fluorescent lights of the dollar store began to flicker and buzz, their harsh glare intensifying until it burned his retinas. The air grew thick, syrupy, like trying to breathe through cotton. Nathan's skin prickled with static electricity, each hair standing on end as reality began to tear apart around him. The scent of ozone filled his nostrils, sharp and metallic.
The floor beneath his feet turned to jelly, and his stomach lurched as gravity seemed to lose its meaning. Colors bled together like wet paint, the familiar shelves of the dollar store stretching and warping like melting plastic.
A deep, resonant hum built in his bones, rising in pitch until his teeth rattled. The world spun like a kaleidoscope gone mad, fragments of reality spinning away into an infinite void. The temperature plummeted, then soared, then vanished altogether, leaving him numb to everything except the sensation of falling.
Then, absolute silence. Absolute darkness. Absolute nothing.
The impact of solid ground knocked the wind from his lungs. The first thing he noticed was the smell – rot and sulfur and something metallic that might have been blood. His fingers dug into loose, gritty soil. The air tasted like ash and old bones.
He opened his eyes and pushed himself off the dirt.
Nathan was in some barren hellscape. Around him was nothing but black trees, leafless bushes, and dead soil. He turned around in a circle, coming face-to-face with a giant, red-eyed skeleton that stared down at him.
[Oh look, it's a Dread Bone Titan. Usually we save these for level 20, but... special occasion and all that. Have fun!]
Nathan blinked.
“Fuuuuuuuu—“