"Haoyu Chen," my teacher calls out. Snapping out of my slight daze, I yell, "HERE!" loud enough to make sure I'm not marked absent. With my growing list of absences, if I fail this class, I'm royally screwed. My voice must've come out way too strong because my buddy Yuan mimics me in this ridiculous tone, making the whole class burst into laughter.
"Real funny, let me laugh so it doesn't go to waste—hahaha," I say, dripping with sarcasm.
Yuan grins. "Go ahead and laugh, buddy, don't keep it bottled up!" he says, then lets out another loud cackle.
That little bastard—how does this jerk find a way to crack a joke at every damn opportunity? How shameless can one guy be? The teacher orders everyone to close their notebooks and textbooks. Apparently, we're having a quiz today. The whole class exchanges looks like, "Oh, we're fucked."
I nudge my friend Fang Xiu, sitting in front of me. "Hey, if you've got any cheat notes, pass 'em over—I didn't study at all," I whisper.
Fang doesn't even pause. "I didn't study either, you crazy chick! She just springs a quiz on us out of nowhere," he grumbles.
Yeah, right—don't believe him for a second. Fang never studies, but somehow, the guy always pulls a perfect 100 on every test. The quiz papers land on our desks.
Yuan elbows me and whispers, "Dude, there's no number on my damn paper—no number!"
"Shhh, shut up!" I hiss, jabbing his arm to quiet him down.
We pretend to stare at our papers for a bit until the teacher's attention drifts away from us.
Yuan, never missing a beat, picks right back up. "Heyyy, you're joining the beta test for Galactic Games, right?"
No way I'd miss it. I'd poured my heart and soul into getting this game. It uses a totally different neural operating system compared to other games, and the special headset cost me about 1 EetCoin—roughly 80,000 yen. For three months, I'd cut out lunch, evening coffee, fun, and booze. I'd lost 6.5 kilos from barely eating. My dad was worried, but I brushed it off with, "Hey, I'm losing weight!" My weight was normal anyway, but these days, who isn't borderline skinny? Point is, I scraped together the cash and snagged the beta tester headset.
"Tonight, we're diving in, bro!" I say, and we keep chatting about the details. From what we could tell from the trailers, there were billions of classes—some unique, others just with extra perks tacked on.
No one knew much about the world's story. All we had were rumors of thousands of planets, solar systems, maybe even galaxies. How the hell they made this game, we had no clue, but whoever did it deserves a medal.
After a day drowned in details, I finally get home. The smell of chickpeas hits me as I step inside.
I'm not a fan of chickpeas, but I join my dad at the table anyway. My mom's been in a coma for eight years at the hospital, some undiagnosed illness. I last saw her when I was about nine. But my little sister… she's got it the worst.
Yuki was only 13 months old when Mom slipped into the coma. We've always had this gaping hole where a mom should be, but my dad, an office worker with shitty hours, stepped up as both mom and dad. I respect that. Back when I was little, he couldn't even cook, but he took a damn home cooking class just to feed us. Long story short, life's been tough and tight, but we haven't given up.
My sister Yuki Chen's in her last year of middle school. Unlike the jet-black hair that's our family trademark, she's got this light blonde shade—Mom's spitting image, the only one in the family who looks like her.
As I walk in and catch the chickpea scent, Yuki leaps at me. "Big bro! Welcome home!" she squeals.
I grab her by the shoulders, set her in front of me, and say, "Did the package come, my sweet little sis?"
"Yes!" she chirps, waddling off to her room like a penguin and returning with the box like it's her most precious treasure.
"What's that?" she asks. I just shrug, "Oh, you know, game stuff."
We eat dinner as a family, and I excuse myself to my room.
Finally, the headset's in my hands. I'm practically drooling with excitement. I shoot Yuan a message saying I'm logging in, then adjust my bed for max comfort and slip the headset on. It's like my soul splits from my body and slides into another one—and boom, I'm there.
GALACTIC GAMES ONLINE
No login screen pops up. Guess the devs skipped it to crank up the realism.
I'm falling toward a planet in some kind of space pod, surrounded by stars so dazzling they'd put our real-world night sky to shame. "Wowww," I mutter in my head, but it slips out loud too. I'm alone in this tiny pod—it's like a small room, cozy but futuristic.
I catch my reflection in the window. It's me, Haoyu Chen, down to every detail, but I'm rocking this sleek, white sci-fi outfit that hugs me like a second skin. It's so different, I feel like a whole new person.
Glancing around the pod, I spot a wardrobe, a mirror, and a chair that practically screams, "Sit and enjoy the view." I skip the chair—I'm too pumped to sit—and head straight for the wardrobe. It slides open silently. Now that's technology, baby, I think. Inside, there's over 40 outfits, all casual and classic-looking.
I grab a long shirt to cover up this skintight suit—my junk's sticking out like a shark fin, and I'm torn between embarrassment and pride. I throw on some baggy sweats too. Now I look less like an alien and more like a regular Earth dude.
Caught up in the excitement, I think [Status] and a screen pops up:
[Status]
User: Haoyu Chen
Physique: Basic Human Physique [Level: 1]
Bloodline: NONE
Affinity: Space and Time
Profession: NONE
Gotta admit, the system's simple, and I love it—simplicity's my jam. My affinity's listed as Space and Time. Lucky or cursed? No clue. As a Physics Olympiad nerd, I know space and time are a mind-bending mess in real life, but maybe in this game, people have it all figured out. No bloodline and a basic human physique? Guess the goddess didn't bless me, but no surprise there.
I plop into the chair, soaking in the view. A hologram flickers in the corner of the window:
[40 minutes until Beta Launch]
The countdown starts. I'm buzzing with excitement, counting planets out the window like a kid counting sand grains on a beach. They're endless.
Beyond the glass, everything's so real, so mind-blowing, my breath catches. The pod's silence only amplifies the cosmic chaos outside. Stars—millions, no, billions—pulse like the universe has a heartbeat. Some flicker faintly, others blaze so bright they sting my eyes. A planet's silhouette drifts by—Saturn's rings? Jupiter's shadow? Something else? I can't tell. Colors swirl—purples, blues, oranges—like a painter flung the universe onto a canvas.
The planet grows closer, a blue marble swelling in my view. Clouds twist, oceans shimmer, continents take shape. It's gorgeous—my chest tightens. How can so much life, so many stories, fit in such a tiny dot? In the cold, dark void, that blue glow feels like hope. And I'm witnessing it. The hologram's ticking doesn't ruin the magic. My hand brushes the glass—cold to the touch, but I'm burning inside. I can't describe how awestruck I am. It's like I've cracked the universe's code for a split second, only to realize how tiny I am in it. This… this is a miracle. And I'm part of it.
Lost in wonder like a little kid, we finally reach the planet. The system chimes:
[Welcome to Starting Planet #3029820 Eu-De-Nova 202. Please follow your guides.]
The pod's metal shell trembles, like something's waking up inside. I'm on a massive platform rising from the middle of an ocean—so huge I can barely see its edges. A gray-blue mist blurs the horizon, but the surface gleams like glass. It's not metal or stone—more like tech fused with something alive, pulsing faintly. Waves crash at the edges, their sound echoing with an odd, artificial rhythm.
Pods stretch out endlessly—millions, maybe billions. Each one's a single-person cocoon like mine, some matte black, others clear with dim lights flickering inside. People—or whatever they are—stir within, their faces a mix of curiosity, fear, and awe. Were we all brought here at once, or is this a trick? It feels too real—my insides quiver.
Then, my pod's lid slides open silently. A cold breeze hits me—salty, wet, with a metallic tang, like this planet's air isn't quite Earth's. Waves roar in my ears, deep and rhythmic, but there's a hum underneath—maybe the platform's energy, maybe this Tip I civilization's tech. I stand, legs shaky, but the surface feels solid and warm under my feet. I look around—others climb out of their pods, staring in stunned silence. Some whisper, some cry quietly, some gape at the sky.
The sky—holy shit, the sky! No clouds, just spinning ribbons of energy—blue, purple, gold—like an aurora woven into a net. Two suns? Artificial lights? I can't tell. But it screams Tip I: a place that's mastered energy, blending nature and tech. The wind tousles my hair as waves crash, glowing with bioluminescent blue-green streaks—like the sea's alive with power.
My heart's pounding. This is unreal. Excitement, fear, awe—it's all crashing together. Like the billions around me, I'm hooked on this weird planet's spell.
A second system alert flashes:
[Please approach designated areas without disrupting the cluster.]
A glowing marker blinks on my screen. "Holy crap," I mutter. It vanishes when I close my eyes, reappears when I open them—a hologram, but it feels so real.
Humming a tune, I shuffle toward the cluster, eyes darting around. Maybe I'll spot Yuan or another classmate, a familiar face—but no luck.
We form a massive crowd around a platform. A strange woman stands atop it, shouting, "HEY, EVERYONE LINE UP AND STEP UP HERE! ANYONE WHO ENTERS WITHOUT THE GUEST PLATFORM VANISHING, I'LL KILL 'EM!"
Well, damn—I'm near the back of the line, I guess. But I'm not bummed; watching people climb up and react is hilarious.
The first person—a girl—steps up, looking shy. Some creep tries to harass her, and bam—his head splits in two. The realism jolts me, but I remind myself it's just a game and shrug it off. Some dudes drop their pants, flashing their tiny dicks shamelessly—the woman grimaces, slices 'em off like she's castrating pigs, and they drop dead. Others are lesbians, but she's unfazed, dishing out equal brutality. Hours pass, the platform thins out, but staff keep it lively. Finally, it's my turn. I get a closer look at her.
Her reddish hair's tightly braided back, eyes slightly sunken, freckled skin. She looks 19 tops—crazy young. Her body's toned, like she's trained hard. Small boobs, but just the right handful—my type—and long legs that earn her extra points in my book.
She catches my eye, and her expression shifts—like she's reading my damn mind…