Colin appeared inside a decaying wooden cabin.
Cold, damp, and utterly dilapidated.
That was Colin's first impression of the cabin's interior.
Then he instinctively looked out the glass window and saw fog.
Endless Gray Fog shrouded the sky and land outside, leaving Colin unable to see anything but fog.
And the Gray Fog seemed to possess some kind of life, flowing silently through the unsettling stillness.
His instincts told him the Gray Fog was extremely dangerous. If he dared to leave the cabin and enter it, he would meet certain death.
Filled with unease, Colin looked away.
Only then did he realize he was lying on a wooden bed, and had been for who knew how long.
The bed creaked as if it could barely bear his weight while Colin sat up.
"How did I end up here?"
Colin rubbed his forehead, trying to figure out how he had gotten here, but he came up empty.
A crucial part of his memory was missing, as if some force had erased it.
All he could remember was his life up to that point, a life with little in the way of family affection.
That made Colin feel uneasy and apprehensive, but his attention soon shifted to something else.
Two objects sat on the table.
A hurricane lamp filled with dark red liquid, and a leather scroll.
They looked as if someone had deliberately placed them there, where anyone who got up would see them.
Colin didn't act rashly. Instead, he studied the two objects and pondered.
Whatever the person behind all this intended, judging by the items left behind, it didn't seem like they were trying to kill him.
But before Colin could figure anything out, a line of white text appeared before his eyes—or, more precisely, in his mind.
[This is an old-fashioned hurricane lamp. The fuel inside is not kerosene, but a substance that resembles blood.]
The sudden information startled Colin. He recoiled, and the text vanished from his mind.
"What was that...?"
Once he had recovered, Colin realized that if he stared at something for a few seconds and thought about it, a related "hint" would appear in his mind.
The message that had just appeared was a "hint" he had triggered by accident.
Colin looked at the hurricane lamp again. The same message soon appeared before him.
[This is an old-fashioned hurricane lamp. The fuel inside is not kerosene, but a substance that resembles blood.]
A line of text appeared. Just as Colin thought that was all and prepared to look away and examine the scroll, another line surfaced in his mind.
[You realize this is probably something very important, but there's nothing in the cabin to light a fire with. How can you light it? Staring at the bright red liquid, you ponder. Perhaps you could try dripping a drop of blood into it?]
[Warning! You realize it can burn for only one hour!]
"Not what you think I should do. What I think I should do,"
Colin muttered, then murmured, "A hurricane lamp lit with blood... So what does it do?"
The hint didn't tell him what the lamp was for once lit.
Perhaps the answer was in the Parchment beside it.
But Colin didn't open the Parchment right away. Instead, he stared at it for a few seconds and activated the "hint," which seemed almost like a skill.
[A Parchment containing important information. Don't worry about what it's made of—open it at once!]
After hesitating briefly, Colin got out of bed, walked over, picked up the Parchment, and opened it.
In an instant, light rose from the Parchment and gathered in midair, forming lines of small text.
[Welcome to Global Gray Fog Survival. Here, survival is your top priority. Please remember the following advice.]
[1. The Wooden Cabin can keep out the Gray Fog and is your last refuge, but don't rely on it too much.]
[2. The horrors only happen in the Gray Fog.]
[3. The hurricane lamp can drive away the Gray Fog.]
[4. Anyone obtained through the system is absolutely loyal. Use them without worry.]
[5. Beware the Black Night! Beware the Black Night! Beware the Black Night!]
[6. In the Gray Fog, if you don't want to become prey, you'd better become a hunter.]
[7. Always hold the Gray Fog in awe.]
[8. Cherish your life, because you won't come back to life.]
"A survival game?" Colin narrowed his eyes.
He had never heard of any game capable of something like this.
But the text wasn't all the scroll contained. After it gradually faded, three options appeared.
[Chat Channel]
[Task List]
[Personnel Recruitment]
The [Chat Channel] kept flashing, giving the impression that it was very active.
Colin wanted to talk to someone, too. Without giving it much thought, he reached out and tapped it. He found three subchannels listed under [Chat Channel].
They were [World Channel], [Regional Channel], and [Private Channel].
The [World Channel] flashed the fastest, so Colin reached out and opened it.
In an instant, a mass of messages from other people appeared in an area half a meter high.
The messages refreshed every ten seconds, though he could refresh them sooner, pause them, or send a message on the current page.
"Important, so I'm saying it three times: Keep the door shut! Keep the door shut! Keep the door shut! There's something in the Gray Fog!"
"Mom, Dad, brothers and sisters, it's me, xxx. Reply if you see this."
"What happened?"
"Dunno. I'd just had my birthday, was drinking and singing, then suddenly I got sent here. I'm completely stunned. This sucks."
"I've got it worse. I was halfway through taking a dump when I suddenly got sent here. That's not the point, though. The point is, does anyone know how to light a kerosene lamp?"
"Can someone please tell me how to light that handheld kerosene lamp? Otherwise I can't do any tasks. Please, anyone?"
How to light a kerosene lamp? Looking at the flood of messages asking how to light one, Colin muttered in puzzlement:
"They mean the hurricane lamp, right? Do they not know you can light it with a drop of blood? Couldn't they just stare at it for a few seconds and—"
Before he could finish, Colin suddenly realized something: other people might not have this ability.
This way of looking at something and getting a "hint" might be a unique ability of his. In other words, it could be called a Cheat.
Colin wasn't happy about it, though. Instead, he frowned.
Unless good looks were the deciding factor, he couldn't think of anything that made him special compared with anyone else.
He hoped the heavens would drop a pie into his lap, but he had never believed that they would.
No one could say for sure whether this thing that gave him hints in the second person—and that he could for now call a "Cheat"—was good or bad.
In the end, Colin could only shake his head helplessly and stop dwelling on it.
After all, whether it was good or bad, there was nothing he could do about it for now. The thing was in his head. It wasn't like he could open up his own skull and see what was inside, was it?
Looking on the bright side, perhaps he really had been hit by a falling pie, and this was just an ordinary little hint.
What bad intentions could a little hint possibly have?
Colin was still going to keep his guard up, though.
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