A Man from Another World

"So, Mr. Aster Crowley..." The ticket clerk picked up a stamp and pressed it onto the train ticket. "Have a pleasant journey."

"Thank you for your blessing, ma'am." The tall, thin man had a mess of long black hair. He accepted the ticket and gave the clerk a polite smile. "Steam above, and may your work go smoothly as well."

After taking the ticket, Aster Crowley spun the small bowler hat in his hand twice before placing it on his head. Carrying a large suitcase, he quickly entered the carriage.

"Lord Ralph of the House of Lords strongly advocates restoring the Corn Laws to protect farmers' incomes!" Listening to the station newsboy's cries, Aster lowered his hat brim slightly, closed his eyes, and began to rest. The Corn Laws had been established by the Loen Kingdom to protect domestic farmers' incomes, forbidding the import of foreign crops until local crop prices rose to a certain level. Now, George III had abolished the law, and cheap crops from Feynapotter had flooded the market, bankrupting countless farmers and forcing them into the cities in search of work.

"Woo—" The locomotive spewed thick white steam as it pulled the train into a rush along the tracks. The occasional jolts made Aster feel a little dizzy.

He opened the window and watched the moon outside. Crimson moonlight drifted gently in, draping the train carriage in a thin red veil.

Ordinary steam trains did not run in the middle of the night, but this train happened to be an exception.

The bespectacled middle-aged man across from him was writing something in a thick leather-bound notebook beneath the crimson moonlight. Noticing Aster's gaze, he put away the notebook and smiled at him. "When I was still a boy, my father required me to keep a diary every day. I've kept up that habit ever since."

Aster raised an eyebrow. Rather than continue discussing diaries, he turned to the moon outside the window. "Sir, the Crimson Moon isn't very bright. Writing a diary in such a dim carriage will damage your eyes."

"Ah, yes." The middle-aged man had already put his fountain pen and diary into the briefcase he carried with him. "I simply feel that writing a diary under the moonlight is rather romantic. Hehe, and it was precisely because of this bad habit..." He raised a hand and pointed at his glasses. "I started wearing glasses at a young age. I didn't learn why until I went to university. So although I still can't break the habit, I do the eye exercises invented by Emperor Roselle every day."

When the middle-aged man mentioned Emperor Roselle, the corner of Aster's mouth twitched slightly, as though he were suppressing something. Forcing down the corners of his lips that kept trying to rise, he drew the curtains. "Red moonlight is still too harsh on the eyes. It would be nice if there were silvery-white moonlight instead."

"Silvery-white?" The middle-aged man could not help laughing. "What an imaginative young man. If the moon really were silvery-white... Haha, sorry."

Aster did not react to the man's brief rudeness. Rather than seeming like he was chatting with a stranger he had met on the train, he seemed more like he was talking to himself.

This train was traveling from Backlund to Tingen City in Awwa County. Like Aster, this gentleman was from Backlund. Not only this Backlund native, but perhaps no one in the entire Loen Kingdom—or even across the Northern and Southern Continents—had ever seen a silver moon. The Crimson Moon had hung eternally overhead since their birth. Its only occasional changes were blood moons or lunar eclipses. In their understanding, the moon was supposed to be red. How could there be a silver moon?

But Aster was an exception, because he came from another world. In the starry sky of that world hung a silvery-white moon.

The middle-aged man leaned back in his seat and fell deeply asleep, his steady breathing gradually softening. Aster watched the faint crimson moonlight slipping through the gap in the curtains and leaned back as well, narrowing his eyes slightly. "System, open the character panel."

At Aster's call, a blue screen visible only to him quietly unfolded before his eyes.

[Name]: Aster Crowley

[Age]: 20

[Class]: Death Pathway - Grave Digger

[Level]: 20 (max)

[Class Skills]: Necromantic Body - Lv. 2, Eye of Death - Lv. 2, Communicate with the Dead - Lv. 2, Necromantic Lore - Lv. 3...

[General Skills]: Divination - Lv. 2, Spirit Vision - Lv. 2, Spiritual Intuition - Lv. 3, Ritual Magic - Lv. 4, General Combat - Lv. 3, Firearms Mastery - Lv. 1...

[Notes]: Favored one of the King of the Astral World, a lost one who does not belong to this era, one who digs graves for the dead.

The tall, thin young man removed his bowler hat and placed it atop the suitcase beside him. Its brim was a full size wider than those of similar hats, making it easier for him to conceal his rare eye color—a pair of uncommon silver eyes.

Aster looked at the middle-aged man across from him. Although he was sleeping deeply, he unconsciously wrapped his coat tighter around himself even in his sleep. Loen nights in June were not cold enough for that. It was the cold, gloomy aura emanating from Aster that was spreading into the surroundings.

This came from his passive ability, [Necromantic Body]. It granted Aster resistance to undead-type abilities and affinity with the undead. Some low-intelligence undead creatures would even treat him as one of their own. The price was the chill that constantly radiated from him, which also made his temperament somewhat unsettling. Even if Aster merely stared expressionlessly at ordinary people, they would feel uncomfortable all over.

This panel, like Aster himself, came from another world.

He closed his eyes slightly as the gentle night breeze sorted through his thoughts, memories flowing through Aster's mind: the Loen Kingdom, the Corn Laws, Grave Digger, the Crimson Moon... This was the world of the game "Sequence Wars."

"Sequence Wars" was a large MMORPG released by Chaos Sea Studio. It had fought its way out from among countless MOBA games and forcefully breathed new life into the MMORPG genre, which had been declining for years. Its unusual Lovecraftian style and rich class system were widely praised by players. Even someone like Aster, who barely played games, had heard plenty of rumors about it.

Aster had actually refused at first, but he happened to know a copywriter at Chaos Sea Studio. Under that guy's tireless recommendations, he was eventually dragged into this deep pit. Aster felt that the game was indeed pretty good, except it was a brutal grind and somewhat luck-dependent... At least, it was not very friendly to "casual" players like him. Its only advantage was that it had relatively few paywalls and no messy in-game purchases. Aster himself had only bought a monthly pass. He occasionally took power-leveling jobs and could earn quite a bit from them.

Less than a month before his transmigration, Version 7.0, "Siege of the World," had just been released. Aster had been busy dealing with exams and had barely logged in to progress through the main storyline when, on his way back to the dormitory, he was killed by a cat that fell from the sky... When he woke up again, he had already transmigrated into Aster Crowley.

What terrible luck... If I'd known I was going to transmigrate, I should've gone through the entire game story first!

Aster rubbed his temples in annoyance. He was not the sort of player who watched the story. For most plot scenes, he would only choose skip... He was the very typical sort of social dungeon player who thought, I don't know where I am, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do, but I know I'm about to start slaughtering.

Although he would occasionally come across edited plot videos, they were not particularly helpful. In truth, by now Aster had forgotten most of the story. He could only vaguely remember a few plot points that had left a deep impression on him. As for the finer details of the story's progression, he would probably have to encounter named NPCs from the game before remembering them.

Skipping the story had really skipped his whole life.

He glanced at the newspaper pinned beneath a water cup. Beneath the huge headline of the Tussock Times was a small line marked with the date: June 26, 1349.

The main storyline should begin on June 28... Less than two days left... His fingers tapped unconsciously against the seat as Aster considered his next course of action. He remembered the start date of the main story very clearly because it was displayed directly at the beginning of the first main quest, like the "4:04 PM, June 15" engraved into the DNA of players from the Great Plague District.

The protagonist played by the players was a third-rate Detective who wandered around looking for cats to catch mistresses and serve as temporary bodyguards. His life was fairly carefree. On this day, he knocked out another thief and retrieved a stolen ring from his hand. Then, at the instant he stood up, his fate changed forever...

Hmm, I'll go see what the protagonist looks like first... Then I'll follow him around. That should guarantee me a ride to Level 60... In the game, that already counted as entering the ranks of demigods. I'd have some ability to protect myself before the Apocalypse... I remember the player spawn point was in an alley off Tingen Iron Cross Street...

Aster closed his eyes. Letting his thoughts drift while emptying his mind, he soon successfully slipped into sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, the jolting sensation beneath him had already vanished. The conductor moved through the carriage, shaking a bell in his hand and waking the still-sleeping passengers—it was now half past six in the morning on June 27. Many customers complained in dissatisfaction, but Aster was not among them, despite having a rather severe case of morning grumpiness.

Although he had not chosen the Darkness Pathway, whose users could sleep only a few hours each day, the Death Pathway he belonged to could switch classes with the Darkness Pathway. Grave Diggers likewise possessed the trait of remaining energetic after only brief sleep—after all, Grave Digger's passive ability, [Necromantic Body], made Aster's body equivalent to an undead creature under certain circumstances... An undead creature that slept sounded like a bit of dark humor no matter how one thought about it.

After giving a small yawn, Aster decided to find somewhere to stay first, then visit Tingen's black market and see whether he could pick up any necessities for his class quests.

Carrying the heavy suitcase, the tall, thin man strode quickly toward the nearest horse-drawn tram stop. Along the way, he casually kicked away a thief who had tried to pick something off him. After frightening the thief away with an icy stare and the chill of [Necromantic Body], Aster looked straight ahead and silently recited, "Quest panel."