When he was engrossed in the Wizard World, Roger unexpectedly transmigrated to a world that seemed familiar yet strange. In this place, the legendary monsters actually existed, disguising themselves among the populace and becoming a part of this world. Starting from a deserted island, Roger began his career as a Demon Hunter. Although he had an inborn golden touch after transmigrating, what made him somewhat helpless was that it wasn't him with the cheat, but rather just a dilapidated house ready to collapse... After a long time, when Roger ascended to the castle surrounded by mountain peaks, he couldn't help but let out a sincere exclamation: “From a cabin to a castle, the house is too big and hard to manage!” ………… This is the story of a Demonic Hunter living in the modern world.
"Where am I?"
The icy seawater slapped against his face, and as it took him by surprise, the fishy, salty water flooded into his mouth and nearly choked Roger; he frantically moved his body.
The dark sea was a turmoil of wind and rain.
"Is this a dream?"
"I clearly remember sightseeing around the Skellige Archipelago in the game, how did I end up in such a place in the blink of an eye?"
"Could it be that I've crossed over into the world of the game?"
Roger's face was stricken with horror.
He was well aware that in the game world he was engrossed in, productivity was low, and most importantly, it was rife with monsters, hardly a match for the comfort of cola, fried chicken, and video games.
Although he didn't know what had happened, the cold water and the very real sense of touch were constantly reminding him that everything in front of his eyes was true.
His vision obscured by wind and rain, Roger could only make out a faint light in the distance; without another thought, he mustered all his remaining strength to swim toward it.
Crack!
Lightning streaked across the sky, and the waves nearly knocked him unconscious, but thankfully he was moving in the same direction as the wind, or else he might have died swimming without ever getting close to that distant light.
Finally, before his strength completely ran out, Roger was washed ashore by the waves; in the darkness, he seemed to hit a rock and the world spun around him as he collapsed onto the beach.
His head was heavy and throbbing, and as he struggled to get up, he found himself too weak; a figure loomed in the darkness, and Roger strained to open his eyes, reaching out his right hand for help.
Then, an unstoppable exhaustion overwhelmed him, and everything went black as he completely lost consciousness.
Before passing out, he saw that the other person was holding a hunting shotgun and had a shiny harpoon hooked to his waist!
......
Suddenly, the downpour cleared.
The sun rose from the horizon, freshening up the storm-washed island with its light.
Not long after waking up, Roger confirmed something.
He had transmigrated, unsure of where he was, but it was clear that this body he was in now did not belong to him.
"Did I die suddenly from staying up all night?"
Truth be told, Roger wasn't even clear about what had happened before; he sat up, looking around, and only when he saw some slightly outdated modern equipment did he quietly breathe a sigh of relief.
"At least it's still a modern civilized society."
The space around him wasn't large, with all sorts of items piled up together in a complete mess, looking like a storeroom.
His head had been crudely bandaged, and apart from feeling a bit groggy, he was mostly fine now, just that his stomach was empty and he felt somewhat listless.
As Roger was pondering his situation, suddenly thudding footsteps came from the spiral staircase above.
Following that, a burly, densely bearded Caucasian man carrying a plate descended.
"Thank you for rescuing me last night,"
Roger said.
But as he spoke, he was surprised to hear fluent English rolling off his tongue, with a bit of an accent. In his previous life, his English had been passable, barely enough for a conversation with foreigners, but nowhere near as smooth as now.
Bang!
The burly man placed the plate on the table.
His dense beard concealed most of his face, making it hard to discern his age, but from the visible skin, he appeared to be around 40.
Accustomed to physical work, he looked immensely strong, like an adult compared to a child next to Roger's current physique.
"Eat up and then leave this place!"
The man's voice was as cold as the stones in the sea.
Roger felt somewhat awkward, his questions stuck in his throat, but at that moment, he was truly famished, and started to wildly stuff the food on the plate into his mouth.
The Burly Man didn't leave; he just stood in front of the stairs, expressionlessly watching Roger.
After padding his stomach a bit, the hunger subsided somewhat, and Roger squeezed out another smile.
"Thank you for saving me. My name is Roger, what's yours?"
"Roger?"
A trace of change appeared on the Burly Man's face. "That's a really dirty name."
"Looks like your father had high hopes for you when he gave you that name."
Roger's face flushed with embarrassment.
This was naturally his real name, it's just that '罗杰' sounded somewhat similar to 'Roger,' and well, 'Roger'...
"Ha ha."
Roger laughed awkwardly, but this little episode somewhat closed the distance between them.
"May I ask where this is?" Roger asked, taking the opportunity.
"An island," the man answered curtly. It was then that some noises seemed to come from upstairs, causing the man's expression to change.
"Are you done eating?"
"If you're done, get going!"
He almost brutally pulled Roger from the bed and then shoved him down the stairs; the guy was really strong, Roger estimated that if he were just a bit slower, what awaited him would probably be a fist.
Confused, Roger was shoved out the door, and he only then realized that the room he had just been in was a level inside a lighthouse. After exiting the metal door, a beautiful island appeared before him.
Lush trees, the distant azure sea blending with the horizon—it made Roger, who had always lived in the concrete jungle in his past life, feel a bit better.
"Wait there!"
The man instructed Roger before closing the metal door. It wasn't long before he came back out, this time with a bundle of luggage in his hand.
"Come with me!"
After locking the iron door and hanging the key around his neck, the man pulled Roger along as they walked towards the distance.
The island wasn't large; at its center stood the white lighthouse Roger had just come out of, its wall coating peeling off, evidently quite old.
Who would live in such a godforsaken place?
Despite his confusion, Roger, being new, dared not ask too many questions and could only follow the man ahead.
They were at a relatively high position from which they could see most of the island; it wasn't really big, just a few kilometers across. Before he could take a closer look, Roger was hurried by the man to the edge of a small grove.
On the clearing in front of the grove was a somewhat dilapidated cabin.
Handing the stuff to Roger, "From now on, you'll live here."
"I will bring you some food later; don't wander off, the weather here is unpredictable, and don't go to the seaside at night."
Seeming to know what Roger was about to ask, the man continued, "The storm has disrupted the communications at sea."
"However, a supply ship will land in a month, and I'll notify you then. You can leave by boat at that time."
Having said that, the man left without looking back.
Roger stood there, dumbfounded; he even forgot to say thanks and ask some questions.
Because before his eyes, a line of eerie text appeared.
"Found a dilapidated seaside cabin, initiate assimilation?"
"Upon successful assimilation, relocation will be impossible before the next upgrade."
Holy crap, is this the legendary transmigration golden finger?