Barnett stared down the empty, desolate street. The Romanesque buildings loomed starkly in the biting wind; shop doors were firmly shuttered, and it felt as if the whole world had fallen into silence. He wrapped himself in a fur coat of unknown origin, yet the wind still cut through him. Worse, after minutes of careful observation, he realized with a chill that this was no movie set—he had somehow landed in an unfamiliar time and place.
"I must have traveled through time," Barnett muttered in despair.
He approached the glass door of a nearby shop and peered at his reflection. The face staring back at him was undeniably his own—only sixteen years old, smooth and untested, with a frame nowhere near the sturdy physique he once had.
"What the hell is this place?" he swore aloud.
Back in his former life, Barnett was a distinguished professor of political science and economics at Princeton University, enjoying high social status and a comfortable living. That evening, he'd been crossing the street after work when a speeding car knocked him out cold. Now he'd awoken in this strange world.
"How am I supposed to survive here? I don't know this place, I've got no money, no food, no shelter…" Barnett lamented.
"Hello, my friend—are you in trouble?"
Startled, Barnett spun around but saw no one.
"Well, after a time-travel stunt like this, ghost demons wouldn't surprise me," he sighed, talking to the empty air. "I'm definitely in trouble… but who are you?"
"I'm Kirby, the system's sprite in this world. I know everything—think of me as an encyclopedia. Ask me anything, and I'll provide surprises beyond your imagination."
"Kirby—could you show yourself? I'd rather not look like a fool talking to thin air."
"I'm sorry, my friend. I exist only within your mind, unseen and untouchable. Don't worry—just imagine what you want to say, and we can converse."
Barnett asked three questions in quick succession: "Where is this place? What system are you talking about? And why is this town completely deserted?"
"This is Earth in a game world," Kirby explained. "It's still a globe, with the same terrain and geography you once knew. When you grow strong enough, you can build a fleet, sail these seas, and discover new continents. Right now, you stand on the Scandinavian Peninsula in northern Europe. As the system sprite, I can help you found a nation and expand its territory—though it depends on your choices and abilities. This deserted town will be your starting point; it's empty because you haven't made its initial settings yet."
"Settings? What settings?" Barnett asked, intrigued.
"When you enter the game, you must select your civilization—and you'll receive a beginner's gift pack. Simply envision the choices in your mind, follow the steps, and it will appear before you."
Barnett closed his eyes and pictured the town's holographic map. It materialized instantly, showing a population overview: over two thousand residents, fifteen villages with more than two hundred inhabitants each, totaling more than five thousand people. Next came the race selection: Germanic, Slavic, Aryan, Celtic, Viking, Roman, or Greek.
"Are there options like sorcerer, half-dragon, angel, demon, or witch-tribe?" Barnett asked mentally.
"Sorry, only real historical ethnicities are available," Kirby replied.
"Ah," Barnett thought. "This town is my base, the springboard for my conquests—so race choice is crucial." Drawing on his knowledge of Earth's history, he declared decisively, "I choose the Vikings."
"Excellent choice," Kirby's playful voice echoed. "I'm impressed."
They named the town Bjàrd and set its faith to Catholicism. Then came the beginner's gift: a suite of attribute points, materials, weapons, and 1,500 gold coins.
"By the way," Kirby added, "if you run out of gold, you can exchange your remaining life time for coins—one second of life for one coin."
"Wait—can I trade coins to regain life time?" Barnett shot back.
"Yes—currently ten coins per second, though inflation may occur," Kirby answered.
Barnett bristled: "My life is worth so little? Inflation too? …Well, I'm only sixteen—at least thirty or forty years left. I'll just earn more gold later and trade it back for life if I must."
Kirby ignored the complaint. "Take your time choosing. The game hasn't officially started—time is frozen."
Two hours later, Barnett finalized his selections. For abilities, he chose:
Intermediate Tri-Service Command
Intermediate Infantry Leadership
Novice World Knowledge
Intermediate Unity Leadership
Novice Morale Boosting
Personal skills such as Intermediate Horsemanship, Intermediate Prisoner Handling, Novice Physical Enhancement, and Intermediate Languages
With 1,500 coins, he acquired:
A purebred European warhorse
A set of light plate armor
A steel battle axe
A composite shield
A monocular telescope
He also added buildings: the town center, a tavern, a militia barracks, and a tannery.
Next came his army:
150 Viking infantry in leather armor and horned helmets, armed with round shields and axes, untrained, divided into four companies
100 Norse archers in leather and horned helmets, equipped with short swords, self bows, a quiver of ten arrows each, lightly trained, in two companies
150 Viking warriors in gleaming chainmail and horned helmets, wielding kite shields and single-handed axes, moderately trained, in two companies
50 axe cavalry in chainmail and horned helmets, carrying kite shields, axes, and lances, mounted on unarmored but sturdy warhorses, moderately trained, disciplined
Lastly, he spent fifty thousand seconds of life time to form an elite guard:
Twenty bodyguards in Renaissance-style heavy plate armor, wielding light steel shields, heavy lances, and maces, mounted on armored heavy warhorses—an unstoppable force.
"Now the game is about to begin. Familiarize yourself with the surroundings. Call me if you need anything."
With that, Kirby fell silent, and the town sprang to life. Villagers bustled about, and the summoned troops snapped into formation. The Viking warriors murmured among themselves, while the elite guard stood motionless, statuesque and ready.
"So—it's really starting?" Barnett muttered to himself. He led his purebred horse toward the assembled forces and prepared to step into his new life…