In the depths of winter, on a snowy night in the northern frontier, in the Dimlight Forest.

With no light from the stars or moon, heaven and earth were immersed in pitch black ink, and the bitter cold wind shrieked and howled, like the screams of demons from hell.

Deep in the forest stood a crude stockade built of logs, called Wild Wolf Stockade. In one corner of the stockade was a low sheep pen holding several dozen mountain goats.

These were the thick-furred, curly-horned goats found only in the north, extremely hardy creatures.

Even so, the flock was huddled tightly together to fend off the piercing cold wind stabbing through the gaps between the wooden planks.

Suddenly, a shrill voice of a youth rang out from the flock.

"Joe, can you stop that?"

A few seconds later, a hoarse, duck-like voice answered: "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

The shrill voice immediately yelled: "You don't know squat! That's what you said last time, and the time before that! Yet you never get it right!"

The duck voice grew louder as well: "Why waste breath yapping? Why don't you be more like Luosen and shut your trap?"

"How can you still think you're in the right, doing something so filthy?!"

"Oh, you want to fight? With your puny body even smaller than a gnome's, I could beat the crap out of you with one hand!"

"Come on then, if you dare!"

Abruptly two youths stood up in the middle of the flock.

In the dim firelight coming through the cracks from the stockade's fire torches, one could vaguely make out that one youth was scrawny, with a thin coarse hemp robe sagging to his waist, revealing a pair of bony, stick-like legs. The other was even more skeletal, and especially short, looking just like a thin rod.

The two took up fighting stances, ready to brawl.

Just then, another youth's voice rang out from the flock: "Come now, let's all calm down. Don't startle the flock. Yelling and shouting won't do anyone any good."

It was Luosen, who had been silent all this time.

The duck voice scoffed uncaringly: "Humph, it's just a few lashes of the whip, no big deal."

The shrill voice refused to back down either, craning his neck and huffing: "I'm not afraid either!"

Luosen gave a faint laugh, his voice calm: "Let me remind you, the chief just lost his son yesterday, and is in a foul mood. Do you really want to provoke him right now?"

At these words, the two scrawny youths instinctively shrank their necks, their bravado gone. But young men have their pride, and neither wanted to back down first.

Luosen's voice rang out again:

"It's the dead of winter, and we're all starving. Best save your strength. Joe, be more gentle in your actions."

Offered a way to back out gracefully, the two youths deflated.

Shooting each other dirty looks and letting out cold snorts, they shrank back into the warmth of the flock.

In another part of the flock, the youth who had mediated the fight curled up among several docile ewes, an involuntary bitter smile emerging on his tender face.

It had already been a month since he crossed over, and somehow he'd ended up as a goat herder for a bunch of bandits, sleeping alongside the flock every night, ill-clothed and ill-fed, his body covered in fleas and lice.

He'd thought he wouldn't be able to endure, but as days passed he'd actually adapted. Not only was he not miserable, he even felt a strange sense of comfort.

Why was that?

In his past life, when he'd reached middle age, his body had grown weaker while the burdens on his shoulders grew heavier by the day.

He had aging parents to care for, children's studies to worry about. He'd opened a factory with hundreds of workers who needed their wages every month. And in recent years the economy had been poor, forcing him to scramble desperately just to keep the business afloat, leaving him exhausted in mind and body.

It was as if some invisible giant hand kept squeezing his body tighter and tighter, wringing every last bit of life force from him until he was completely drained!

But now, he was just a goat herder in a bandit's den. His bandit father had died three years ago during a raid out of the mountains, and his mother had taken up that very night with another bandit, only to die giving birth two years prior.

As a 15-year old bachelor, Luosen felt like a bird soaring into the forest and a fish returning to the sea, filled with an indescribable sense of freedom.

But he also had his share of worries.

In short, his life had no prospects!

He didn't want to spend his whole life mixing with bandits.

'What a pity. After transmigrating to another world I didn't gain any benefits.'

Whenever he thought about this, the bitter smile on Luosen's face deepened.

Focusing his mind, he thought to himself: 'Desktop.'

His vision instantly brightened just a bit, and a computer desktop with a deep blue background appeared, in the classic 16:9 ratio and 24 inch size of office monitors.

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The desktop was empty, with no task bar, no start menu, no program icons, just a single folder.

The folder name: 'My Harem.'

Opening the folder revealed numerous sub-folders. Picking one at random, it was filled to the brim with massive amounts of entertaining content that any normal man would enjoy - pictures and videos.

That's right!

While others transmigrated and gained amazing abilities, when Luosen crossed over he'd only brought his collection of beauties accumulated over many years.

So just how many were there?

It wasn't actually that many. Collected over 20 years and across seven or eight computer upgrades, there was about 5 terabytes in total.

This “benefit” wasn't totally useless either. After fiddling with it for a month, he'd found a use for it.

Staring intently at a beauty's picture for 2 seconds would bring up a 'Print?' option.

Choosing 'Yes' and then picking up a drawing implement, while emptying his mind, would allow him to perfectly 'print out' the beauty.

If there was an occupation like 'painter' in this world, he ought to be able to earn a humble living with this skill.

Unfortunately, the bandits in Wild Wolf Stockade were all uncultured louts who didn't understand art!

Luosen had tried drawing some beauty pictures on wooden boards with charcoal. The bandits looking at them would just say “Nice picture,” before grabbing the board and hiding in a corner to review their time-honored family tradition.

Occasionally some lustful bandit bachelor would come looking for his pictures of beauties. But there was no question of any reward - dare to refuse, and the next second you'd get a beating.

After transmigrating for a month, a “tycoon” possessing a 5 terabyte treasure trove could only spend his days herding goats for the bandits, filling his belly with leftover scraps.

From chatting with others, Luosen had picked up some basic knowledge about this world.

He now knew that the land he was on was called the Gold Land, ruled over by various Gold Children, while Wild Wolf Stockade was at the northernmost edge of the Gold Land, with its lord known as the Duke of Frigid Ice.

This bandit stronghold Wild Wolf Stockade was led by a chief nicknamed 'Iron Claw Wolf.'

Rumor had it that in his youth, Iron Claw Wolf had been a soldier under a certain baron.

His nickname was well-earned. In battle, his hands would turn an iron-black color, and a single swipe of his claws could rip open bellies and cleave boulders.

Half a month ago, a massive bear weighing over a ton had attacked Wild Wolf Stockade. Luosen had personally witnessed Iron Claw Wolf dash over in a flash, plunging his claw down and piercing straight through the bear's hard skull.

More formidable than the Nine Yin White Bone Claw!

Two days ago, another frightening incident had happened in the stockade.

The bandits had gone out raiding, but on the way they encountered a terrifying curse mage. Though they fled swiftly, the chief's son had still been struck by one of the mage's curses.

Just after returning he hadn't shown any abnormality besides looking a bit pale. But less than two days later, black blood poured from his seven apertures, his entire body's skin split open inch by inch, and he died in extreme wretchedness.

Luosen couldn't help thinking: 'How can Iron Claw Wolf be so formidable, yet only a common soldier? How can these bandits who raid so boldly flee like cowards after meeting a single curse mage, not even seeking vengeance after the mage killed the chief's son? This world is terrifying.'

His hopes for the future diminished bit by bit.

When he had just crossed over, he'd been thinking of pillowing his head on beauties' laps by day, and holding authority over all under heaven by night.

But now his thoughts were very down-to-earth: 'Just live properly. If I get the chance, escape this den of thieves, go to a big city, and earn my keep by drawing portraits of beauties.'

The shrill voice piped up: "Joe, can't you show some backbone?!"

The duck voice sighed. "If only I could use magic."

The shrill voice asked incredulously: "What does magic have to do with women?"

"Are you an idiot?" The duck voice dripped contempt. "If I could use magic, at night I'd turn all these goats into women to sleep with me every day."

'Pfft—'

Amused by this, Luosen couldn't help laughing out loud.

The duck voice huffed: "Luosen, what are you laughing about? Don't you want women too?"

Luosen smiled faintly. "Of course I do too."

All men have desires, and few have stronger desires than youths in their peak.

A youth's body was like a powder keg, the tiniest spark setting it aflame. Just catching sight of a white arm could send their thoughts galloping toward progeny countless as the stars in seconds.

But Luosen's previous life experiences had deeply imprinted the cold reality hidden behind the burning passion, leaving him with less indulgence and more restraint compared to clueless youths.

He gently said: "Mages are incredibly powerful, even the chief fears them. If you became a mage, how could you lack for real women?"

'Haha—' The shrill voice guffawed loudly.

"You make a good point." The duck voice scratched his head awkwardly, also laughing.

That said, Luosen understood Joe's actions, but couldn't be bothered to interfere.

Lustful youths were notoriously unruly, and of the three Luosen was the youngest and weakest. One wrong word and he'd get a beating.

For the sake of his own well-being, he was always prudent in speech and action.

Turning over, he slipped his numb hands and feet into the warm fleece to warm up, as Luosen continued resting with eyes closed.

Suddenly his back began to itch. Reaching back to scratch it, he discovered a blood-sucking louse.

The bug had already drank its fill, its belly swollen red like a bean. He threw it straight into his mouth and crunched it between his teeth like a stir-fried soybean, then swallowed it down instead of spitting it out.

Lives were hard, he couldn't waste a bit of nutrition.

Outside the pen, the cold wind howled ceaselessly, snow dancing tirelessly, the night growing late. Luosen yawned, his spirit growing fuzzy.

In his half-aware state, his mind continued cogitating.

'Can I install new software on my mental computer?'

'In this world, can I support a wife and kids as an erotic artist? Or should I just stay single and carefree my whole life?'

'Just what kind of existence are curse mages?'

'Can I learn magic?'

"Baa!"

A sudden goat's bleat reached his ears, not loud yet full of vigilance.

The next moment, the entire flock 'swished' to their feet as one.

Luosen was shocked fully awake. Peering through the cracks, in the firelight he carefully inspected the flock.

The flock was restless, the lead goat ramming the wooden enclosure repeatedly with its horns, emitting 'thud thud thud' sounds.

The two other youths had also awoken, scrambling up and standing in the flock looking at each other.

"What's happening?" the shrill voice asked.

"Maybe there's a fierce beast outside. They were like this last time a bear came too," the duck voice guessed.

Luosen thought the same, but he was an introverted and taciturn type. Without fully grasping the situation, he wouldn't jump to conclusions.

Another bizarre development occurred!

Among the flock, the two youths' expressions abruptly changed dramatically!

Before Luosen's very eyes their faces swiftly turned purple, fresh blood pouring ceaselessly from their mouths, noses, and eyes, their scrawny claw-like hands wildly scratching at their chests, choked gurgling sounds emerging from their throats.

In less than 5 seconds the struggles ceased, their bodies going limp as they collapsed atop the ground.

Their facial skin had turned black, their heads swelling grotesquely like inflated, glistening black balloons - a shocking wretched way to die!

This inexplicable yet horrifying scene unfolded before Luosen's eyes, delivering an intense mental blow.

He gaped wide-eyed at the corpses before him, heart thundering like thunder in his chest, seemingly about to burst out of his throat.

'Ding!'

A faint tremor passed through his mind, information flowing across Luosen's consciousness.

'Software "Luosen's Adventure Log" installed. This software will comprehensively record the user's adventuring experiences, allowing playback and screenshots at any time.'

Luosen was taken aback. 'It installed new software? How's that useful?'

Before he could think further, even more bizarre events occurred.

The agitated flock seemed to receive some kind of soothing, gradually calming down.

The lead goat stopped ramming the walls. The ewes lay back down. Somehow, the few beast-warding torches embedded in the outer walls had all been extinguished.

The entire stockade was submerged in pitch black ink, hands invisible before faces, like the dark underworld swallowing the mortal realm.