Awakening, stranger, another world?

Baldur's Gate, not a particularly ancient city, sits at the mouth of the Chionthar River, a nexus connecting trade routes and the Coast Way.

It lacks the brilliant arcane light of Silverymoon, the generational depth and atmosphere of Waterdeep, or even the prosperity of Athkatla, known as the City of Coin.

The original Baldur's Gate was merely a small fishing village, offering little more than a place for fishermen to rest their heads after returning home in the evening.

Its rise to prominence wasn't exactly glorious. The story began with a pirate named Balduran who, to avoid losing his way home on a return voyage, built a lighthouse on the coast. As commerce and trade gradually flourished, this small fishing village began to thrive, developing step by step into the trade hub of the Sword Coast it is today.

And for all this, the founder of this nascent city – Balduran – named it after himself: Baldur's Gate.

To this day, the legendary tales of the past are like the rushing waters of the Chionthar River, flowing westward into the Sea of Swords, stirring a few waves before subsiding into silence.

Once the founder's ambitions vanished along with his disappearance, the undercurrents beneath the calm river surface began to surge unchecked, and the decaying framework of the system could no longer restrain the ambitions that had been hidden.

As this long river of time began to flow, a tiny, insignificant grain of sand was tossed into it, without stirring a single ripple.

Are you kidding me? Zhang Yuan, who had already fainted twice, no longer had the strength to even get up. He could only lie on the ground, pressing his head weakly against the floor, trying to alleviate the lingering headache.

After a while, he managed to pry his eyes open a sliver. The bright light around him pierced his vision. Although still groggy, he had regained some mobility.

"Don't you dare leave me with post-concussion syndrome," Zhang Yuan muttered as he climbed to his feet. He turned around but immediately realized something was wrong. He wasn't in that void-like chessboard anymore.

Above him was a thatched roof supported by wooden beams, covered with sparse straw. Strands of sunlight filtered through the gaps in the roof, bringing a hint of warmth that was immediately scattered by the whistling wind.

The surrounding walls were also made of wooden planks. The wooden walls, which looked ancient, were already half-rotten. The wormholes and gaps offered no resistance to the cold wind howling outside.

Ah, achoo! Zhang Yuan, having sneezed, quickly pulled his coat tighter. Fortunately, he was wearing a winter coat, so he wouldn't freeze. As he gradually regained consciousness, he finally had the energy to consider his situation.

"Could I have transmigrated?" Recalling the strange events before he fainted, Zhang Yuan had a bad feeling.

He pulled the bolt and pushed open the creaking wooden door. An unfamiliar scene assaulted his eyes. The area where the wooden house was located seemed to be a corner of an ancient city. In the distance, he could see continuous, towering city walls.

The streets were sparsely lined with a few old, low-rise houses. The tallest among them didn't exceed three stories. Fortunately, as a consolation, they had a plot ratio that would make any real estate agent despair and jump off a building.

A few pedestrians moved along the streets. Judging by their appearance, they seemed to be Caucasians, which left him momentarily uncertain. However, the cries of street vendors reached his ears. Zhang Yuan, who had studied abroad with the Hans, had never heard the language before, yet he inexplicably understood what they were saying: "Oranges for sale, oranges! Three copper coins each, ten for three! Oranges for sale!"

Zhang Yuan twitched his lips, unsure what to say. His confusion deepened. Where exactly was this place? Was it Earth, or had I transmigrated?

Driven by confusion, Zhang Yuan decided to expand his exploration area. Fortunately, he had woken up in such a peaceful city. If it had been some wilderness or a war-torn region, there would have been no place to even cry.

He walked along the street towards where the pedestrians and vendors were more concentrated, thinking he might reach the city center. His steps didn't falter. However, the more he looked at the surrounding scenery, the colder his heart became. From the houses on either side, the shops, to the passing pedestrians, he couldn't find a single trace of modern civilization.

No one used phones, wore headphones, or drove cars. There weren't even bicycles. There were no flashing neon lights either. The shop signs were just simple, crudely written words. No one wore masks, which in this year of rampant viruses, was the most abnormal thing.

The last shred of his hope was shattered by a patrol passing by in the distance. Clad entirely in leather armor, with iron swords and other cold weapons, it was one thing. But the presence of a pointy-eared elf and a bearded dwarf among them truly jolted Zhang Yuan awake.

Indeed, Zhang Yuan, seasoned by countless games and novels, had fantasized about transmigrating more than once.

Especially in the daydreams of a D&D enthusiast, perhaps becoming the fated Son of Bhaal, traveling from Candlekeep to Baldur's Gate, from Athkatla to the Underdark, writing his name as the Child of Slaughter in the blood of all sorts of monsters and masterminds; or becoming the savior of Neverwinter, saving Artemis along the way for a romantic trip; or perhaps becoming the hero of Westgate, holding the Githyanki Silver Sword and dominating Crossroads Keep.

However, when this scene truly unfolded before him, it brought not the joy of a dream come true, but rather a sense of being lost.

Life on the continent of Faerûn was not as comfortable and peaceful as modern society. Not to mention the lurking dangers, the monsters rampaging in the wild, and the various schemes and tricks of evil factions, just the living standards of the feudal era and the quality of life close to the Middle Ages could make a modern person regret their decision.

Moreover, Zhang Yuan was not one of the countless orphans from the starting point; he had both parents. Although he studied abroad in Europe, although he only video-called his parents once a week, although he was always impatient with his mother's nagging, although he was always reprimanded meekly by his strict father, although he was repeatedly pressured by his parents to get married to the point of desperation, although, although...

For all the reasons he had indulged in his fantasies and pursued his freedom in the past, he now had just as many reasons to want to return to the familiar world. If his past self saw such a pathetic protagonist, he would probably grab his keyboard and hurl insults like "all talk and no action," "useless trash," and "indecisive" at him. Zhang Yuan thought helplessly.

"System, DLTCEP!" he silently commanded twice and received a response. A pop-up window lit up before his eyes: "Character template imported. Subsequent functions require energy to activate. Current energy points: zero."

"What energy? What kind of energy do you need?" Zhang Yuan roared inwardly, but received no response. Helpless, he had to give up.

Fortunately, there was still hope. The energy the system mentioned was nothing more than a few categories, such as combat experience, divine power, and so on.

You think I wouldn't know if you didn't tell me? Zhang, a man of extensive knowledge, felt that the system was still too young and naive. Regardless, the system's existence still gave him a foothold and future possibilities in this other world.

Teleportation and summoning spells were endless in this world. Ancient arcane arts and magitech civilizations could even traverse interdimensional barriers. If he could reach that legendary height, there might not be no hope of returning home.

As for the passage of time? Let's not even mention whether the flow of time was consistent; time travel wasn't impossible either!

For a moment, time dragons, reversing time, flowing upstream against the river of time, consolidating timelines... all sorts of grand phrases used by powerful figures in novels flooded Zhang Yuan's mind, as if he had opened a dojo.

"Get out of the way, bumpkin!" Zhang, still lost in his own fantasies, was shoved off balance.

A fat middle-aged man impatiently pushed past him. Like all stereotypical greasy uncles, this middle-aged man had a belly as swollen as a woman in her tenth month of pregnancy. His greasy, receding hairline, his garish red and green attire, and the mixture of sweat and perfume made Zhang Yuan unsure whether to cover his eyes or his nose.

Can't afford to offend, can't afford to offend. Zhang Yuan, quickly stepping aside, looked around. The unfamiliar environment made him feel somewhat lost. While he had grand goals, figuring out his immediate direction was a problem.

Just then, a rich aroma of meat wafted into his nostrils. He sniffed and looked towards the source of the smell.

At the entrance of a simple yet tidy small bakery, a frying pan was placed over a fire. A middle-aged aunt used wooden tongs to retrieve freshly fried patties from the pan, placed them between freshly baked round buns, added two green leaves on top of the patty, and drizzled a thick layer of white sauce.

This meat-filled bun, resembling a hamburger, made Zhang Yuan, who hadn't eaten anything since before he fainted, salivate uncontrollably. Just as he was about to step forward and ask for the price, he realized: I have no money!