‘The Otherworldly treasure hunt’

Vic stared at the ethereal letters filling his vision.

The text was of a majestic gold lustre shining with an unbounding elegance, only standing to make it seem comical against the dark and brooding mist coiling around it, but alas for Vic, the situation was already too bizarre to comprehend.

Wasn’t he just a normal person? Shouldn’t he be seeing his ceiling or his room right now, instead of wherever the hell he was now? Where's his phone?

Thinking about this, Vic recalled that the last thing he remembered was lying down on his bed and falling asleep while on his phone again.

And thus, Vic did the most reasonable thing he could think of, or more accurately, he slapped himself (a bit too hard at that)

-receiving only a lance of pain mocking him of his stupidity

“Please refrain from partaking in self-harm, thank you very much” said the figure in front of Vic. It's expression betraying no sarcasm yet no sense of solemmness either, obviously it didn't sound quite so warm either.

Oh, was that truly obvious? Perhaps it was already time he should start paying attention to that vaguely humanoid iridescent thing in front of him?

As if on cue, “Welcome, you have been randomly selected to take part in the Otherworldly treasure hunt.” it gestured dramatically at the sign above it like some faux excited game show host, which looked particularly odd coming from some misty amalgamation.

Especially when he could hear words but see no mouth moving.

“The rules are as follows:” it paused as if taking a breath.

Wait, am I breathing...

“The first person to acquire the Grand Treasure will be able to return home while the rest will remain in the Otherworld. Now, before you are transported to the Otherworld, tell me, what will your starting weapon be?”

Perfectly normal question Mr Mistyman but before Vic could even begin fathom the consequences of this choice or his situation… before he could even breathe, he had to ask.

“can I refuse”

“No”, it replied emotionlessly without skipping a beat.

It said it without hesitation, immediately dousing the embers of Vic’s hope. A thousand thoughts ran through his head boiling like panic soup.

Are those all the rules?

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Dread rose up along with the vomit, burning the back of his throat. Yet unsurprisingly he wasn’t surprised at the refusal.

“Who are you?” Vic forced out, just as his throat completely constricted itself in rebellion.

It remained unmoving phantom, a mockery of its previous liveliness.

And that was that. A sense of finality settled onto Vic, it was as if he knew at this moment no matter what he did, his previous life was over.

I guess he is not gonna answer anymore questions...

What was he supposed to say now? Starting things are usually important, but Vic had no context to go off. What would a starting weapon be: a shield, sword, spear, rifle, a bomb? Heck, one could say that a focused mind is the best weapon someone could have...

At least as Vic studied the enigmatic being in front of him, he felt he could cross out any chance of him being in a prank of some sorts.

The thing seemed to meld with the surrounding mist in a way that was wholly alien. It flickered from a state of full materiality to a holographic mirage which put it far beyond what Vic considered natural; whether that meant he was facing God or something, however, wasn’t really on the list of things Vic needed the to know right now.

At least he could take a breath now. And he did.

It came out raagged and forced.

…Now… he had to guess if whatever he breathed in was air.

Vic quickly peered behind him finding more nondescript mist and no more answers.

Perahps he hoped to find a camera and a high-tech projector...

Well, he was not getting any smarter looking at more endless mist (plus he liked wanting to breathe) so.

“U-um a gun?”

“How borin- “ he heard just before he suddenly felt nothing.

----------------------------------------

...

Vic suddenly realised the control over his body again with a gasp and a series of hacking coughs. Light rushed into his eyes like a torrent, pouring the scenes of his surroundings into the blackness that had momentarily suffocated his senses. He felt as though he had lost control over his body for a moment…

Did that thing call his choice boring? Well, that was just rude, he thought, just because it was simple doesn’t mean it wasn’t good.

Vic glanced at the pistol in his hand before he immediately began to stare at the nondescript grass that surrounded him, all while trying to ignore the cold drops landing on his face.

Well, where here would I find a grand treasure

Manifesting an aversion to his downcast surroundings, Vic ceased his attempt to uproot himself, instead opting to look at the weapon he didn’t know how to use. As he glared at the pistol

At least he fell asleep in his school uniform, lest he be standing in the rain in his pyjamas, or if he was one of those psychopaths, standing naked.

Oddly though, as he glared the firearm, suddenly an alien sensation started to run though him. And soon a strange feeling began to surface within him, a feeling that he might get something… yes, he would finally get some answers.

He locked eyes with the pistol, his focus lasering onto it, finally someone could tell him what was going on-

...

Treasure Interface Item: Gun Cooldowns:

days:hours:minutes:seconds:miliseconds

(Shoot)0:0:16:57:046 Abilities: Shoot Shoot

Shoots a bullet in direction aimed by the sight.

Each activation consumes 1 shell

Maxiumum of 12 shells

All shells are refreshed after a 18 minute cooldown

[Ability can be manually activated via depression of trigger]

"oh"