“Phew…!”

Bai Xia logged out of the game, set the gaming device on the nearby counter, and stretched with a soft yawn.

She’d only meant to casually try it out—never expecting the game to be this captivating.

She wanted to keep playing, but past nine o’clock, a time that once signaled the start of nightlife, now left this new body feeling drowsy.

For over half a month since waking up in this form, subtle habits left by the original owner had quietly shaped her days.

Thankfully, all that remained were basic common sense and fragmented memories. Otherwise, Bai Xia might’ve truly lost herself.

Even now, she sometimes dreamed of waking back in her old world, restored to her former self—only to feel, upon real awakening, not fear, but a quiet mix of disappointment and resignation.

Early on, she’d briefly wondered if ending it might send her home. But Bai Xia was a coward: scared of pain, even faint at the sight of blood. The thought vanished instantly.

No answers. No way back. Yet life moved on.

The world wouldn’t pause for her hesitation. Bai Xia never believed it revolved around her. So she buried the weight deep inside and walked forward, step by step, in this unfamiliar shell.

Humans were adaptable. In just fifteen days, she’d nearly grown used to tiptoeing for shelves, looking up at others outside, accepting gazes that saw her like a cute stray kitten—and the shock in people’s eyes when they learned the truth.

Sometimes she’d think, *Maybe this isn’t so bad.* Pure self-comfort, of course.

Nightmares came often lately. Details faded, but waking brought not terror… only confusion. A hollow uncertainty about tomorrow.

Where was her path leading?

Keep walking? Revert someday? What happened to her original body? Where did this body’s former owner go?

Such thoughts pressed down like suffocation. Even when ignored, they crept back.

In those moments, she felt utterly disconnected from the world.

Lonely. Aching. With no one to tell.

“Life really is just a crappy game,” she muttered, “and one with no pause button.”

After lying still to steady her emotions, Bai Xia slowly rose. She splashed water on her face, then grabbed a yogurt from the fridge.

Gulp, gulp, gulp—she downed half the bottle. The sweet-tart taste calmed the chaos inside. She took a deep breath, returned to her room, and picked up the Tianxun glasses.

She’d grown tired of overthinking the future. Humans lived in the now.

Right now? She needed money.

No food on the table meant no time for melancholy.

Bai Xia never saw herself as overly sensitive. This emotional tide? The world’s fault. And this body’s.

“Yep. Blame the timing!”

“…Why do I feel more and more like a real little girl?”

She shook her head, shoved the messy thoughts away, and focused on searching online.

To earn through *The Otherworld*, she needed to understand it deeply.

As a groundbreaking title, its influence was already spreading like wildfire—barely ignited, yet impossible to ignore.

Coverage spilled beyond gaming sections into news channels. Forums were flooded with *The Otherworld* posts.

Threads refreshed by the second: awe at the game’s polish, tips, chatter, trades, intel sales. Guild recruitment notices too—though players couldn’t join until leaving the starter village, preparations were already underway.

Some posts looked professional. Others? Blatantly sketchy. One glance at the suggestive selfie in the header image said it all.

“Guilds, huh?”

Bai Xia ignored the noise, studying pinned recruitment posts from major guilds.

She wasn’t an MMO expert, but she knew: solo play wouldn’t cut it. Mid-to-late zones and bosses demanded teams. The world map was vast—intel gathering alone was impossible alone. Critical info stayed locked in big guilds. And their dedicated crafters, boosted by guild resources, reached heights solo players couldn’t dream of. Resources she couldn’t ignore.

Still…

“No rush. Take it slow,” she reminded herself.

After over an hour browsing with the Tianxun glasses, exhaustion won. She removed them, mentally sorted key details, and drifted to sleep.

—

—

Morning came. Despite sleeping late, Bai Xia woke refreshed—no nightmares, no midnight jolts. Ten hours of solid rest. After washing up and breakfast, energy returned.

Her login time with Tianzheng was 10 a.m. She kept browsing *The Otherworld* updates.

As expected, hype had exploded overnight. Forums and official sites of *The Otherworld* and Huanmeng buzzed louder than before.

Even in this advanced era, skepticism ran deep. Many assumed the game’s promises were just marketing fluff—like those “raise a mythical Kun fish” scams that delivered nothing but disappointment.

*The Otherworld* wouldn’t sabotage its reputation. But hype? Everyone knew the drill.

Players came anyway—drawn by its title: the first true VR MMORPG.

Then they played.

And were stunned.

Mediocre would’ve earned praise. Instead? Mind-blowing realism. Players erupted.

From the official site, Bai Xia learned: login device tiers didn’t grant privileges. Those “special perks” were just lucky-draw rewards for a tiny few.

Her top-tier status? Pure luck.

Device quality only affected sensory immersion and visual fidelity. Her hyper-real experience came from max settings. Standard gear couldn’t match it.

*So I’m actually blessed?* A twinge of regret lingered. Checking the time, she returned to her room and logged in.

Second login was smoother. Straight to the menu: *Enter Game* or *Forums*.

She tapped *Game*. Vision darkened—then cleared. She stood exactly where she’d logged out.

“You’re here?”

She’d thought she’d be first. Tianzheng was already waiting.

Today, a heavy gloom clung to him. Not aimed at her—likely real-life troubles. Bai Xia, who kept game and reality separate, didn’t ask.

“Mm. I thought I’d be first online.”

As Tianzheng greeted her, a party invite appeared. She accepted. “So what’s today’s plan? Keep bullying little monsters here?”

With her rising level, Bai Xia’s combat strength shone—even under monster-level suppression, her bursts were fierce. Paired with Tianzheng’s technical skill, clearing mobs felt effortless.

Tianzheng composed himself, then shook his head.

“No. Others will swarm this spot soon. Too risky elsewhere, low rewards. So… today, we take quests.”