My name is Fyrel. I'm an ordinary person like everyone else, 20 years old. After finishing school, I just stay at home with my family.
I always take naps during the day and only wake up at night, spending my time reading comics and watching animations.
I'm happy with my life—if possible, I want to keep it this way until I die. My father and mother are busy with their business, and I have two older brothers who are also following in their footsteps.
As for me, they just tell me to stay at home, and my life is pretty much how I want it to be. It's not that I'm stupid—I'm someone gifted by God who easily catches on to my studies, and I pass my exams very easily.
If there are any financial matters, my family asks me to handle them. It's like working from home. This kind of work doesn't even require leaving the house—it's just that the nature of their jobs forces them to work in an office.
But one day, while I was playing a game, something glitched. I felt like the fantasy game I was playing had somehow become a memory—as if my consciousness was inside that world.
People call it déjà vu, but this time, my brain really recognized it, and the feeling lasted longer. Every location in this game felt familiar, as if I already knew it by heart without needing to think or look up tutorials on Yotobe.
That day, I played until the end, and when I checked the game details, I was the only one who had downloaded it. Yet, playing it made me inexplicably happy, like I truly missed that place.
Whoever you are in my mind, I hope you're living happily there, just as I am here. It must be a struggle to live in a world without the internet—just pure fantasy, with magic and clashing auras, demons, wars, and other species fighting.
In the name of God… I hope You save the other 'me' in my mind and grant him a happy life.
After praying, I glanced back at my PC screen—and there, words appeared from the game:
Thank you, kind person.
I didn't dwell on the strangeness and just closed the game, clicked shutdown, and turned off the PC. I stood up from my gaming chair to find food, my stomach gnawing with hunger. I'd been so lost in that world, I'd forgotten to eat until the ache became unbearable.
But the moment I took a step, my head spun violently. My vision blurred slowly. I groped for my mattress to lie down, my legs refusing to hold me, the nausea of near-fainting washing over me. Without realizing it, my eyes fluttered shut, and my mind drifted into rest.
Then, something touched my cheek.
Tik… tik… tik… One by one, the touches came. Whatever it was felt cool and gentle against my skin. Half-awake, I raised a hand to my cheek—it wasn't solid, more like… liquid. My blurry eyes struggled to focus as I peered at my fingers. Slowly, my vision cleared: water. I dismissed it and tried to sleep again.
But why did I feel something small—tiny, even—holding my cheek as I tried to lie back down? This time, I jolted upright, scrambling to sit up.
The sight before me was one I'd never seen before. People dressed in old-fashioned styles, straight out of fantasy or anime. This wasn't my room.
Logically, this had to be a dream. But in my dreams, I'd never felt color—only a haze of silver.
This place… I know it.
Lush greenery stretches endlessly, cradled by forested hills and mist-shrouded mountain peaks. Thatched-roof cottages with wooden and stone walls dot the winding cobblestone paths, each adorned with wildflower gardens and simple wooden fences.
At the village's heart stands a colossal Elder Tree, its leaves a surreal shade of pink. Its massive roots twist into natural benches where NPCs gather—the tree pulses with life, the soul of this place.
A small river murmurs at the village's edge, its melody mingling with the chirps of crystal-winged birds—a sound I'd never heard in the city. The air carries the scent of freshly baked bread from the local baker, blending with herbal whispers from the witch's garden. Wind chimes tinkle faintly from the crumbling watchtower.
What nostalgia.
All this time, I'd ignored it—too focused on missions, quests, finishing the game. But now… I'm here. Feeling it.
The Harsh Reality
I finally notice: I'm lying on the bare ground. Am I just some homeless wanderer here?
My clothes are frayed—shoulders torn, pants ragged at the knees. The stench clinging to me suggests I haven't bathed in weeks. But the village's beauty makes me forget, just for a moment.
I walk slowly, soaking it all in.
Nearby, farmers harvest Moonlit Wheat, its stalks glowing softly under the dusk sky. Children dart past, chasing "Firefoxes"—tiny, flame-tailed foxes that flicker like living embers. At a workshop, a dwarf blacksmith hammers a blade from shimmering blue mythril, sparks flying like trapped stars.
In the tavern, a band of adventurers swap tales of a newly discovered ancient cavern in the forbidden woods.
How… basic. Exactly the kind of fantasy trope every developer recycles.
After taking in the scenery, I slumped onto a wooden bench near a small pond with a bed of fake gemstones—glittering, wizard-made crystals—scattered across its bottom.
In the game, players would toss old coins or broken rings into it to make wishes.
But for NPCs? They'd throw offerings in as prayers to their gods or use the water to cure illnesses.
Now, I had no idea what to do.
I didn't have player powers anymore. Just the life of a ordinary villager. The skilled ones always left for cities, leaving behind only the very young, the very old… or those who'd retired from adventuring, too wounded to keep going.
Grrrruh…
My stomach growled. Desperate, I shoved a hand into my pocket, hoping for coins. My fingers brushed something round.
I pulled it out and uncurled my fist slowly.
Damn.
Just a Wishing Coin—a silver token etched with a crescent moon and full moon facing each other. Useless.
Without thinking, I flicked it into the pond and muttered:
I hope my player powers come back.