я сделал английскую версию оцени
Chapter 1 — The Awakening
The evening was quiet. In his small apartment, a young man lay on his bed, music playing softly in the background. His body ached with exhaustion after another long day at work.
"God… today was brutal. Hopefully tomorrow brings fewer clients. I just need some real sleep."
His eyes slowly closed. Sleep tugged him under, warm and heavy. He didn't notice at first the faint blue glow forming beside his bed. At first dim, like a dying ember—then brighter, stronger, until the entire room was swallowed by its radiance.
Then came the sensation of falling.
His stomach lurched as if he were plummeting into an endless abyss. His eyes flew open—only to see his own body still lying peacefully on the bed.
"Wait—what? Am I… still dreaming?"
But the sensation of rushing air was real. The sudden crash of sound around him was real. A sharp stench hit his nose, burning his throat. Screams filled the air—inhuman, desperate, raw. Fire raged in the distance, casting a hellish glow across a ruined battlefield.
Corpses littered the ground. Blood pooled in black rivers. His heart stopped.
A cold sweat drenched him as panic crushed his chest. His vision blurred. The world spun.
Then—voices. Harsh, guttural syllables. He spun toward the sound. A figure charged him, blade raised.
Reflexively, he lifted his left arm—
—and it was severed in a single strike.
Agonizing pain exploded through his body. His scream tore out in English, desperate, meaningless. The sword halted at his throat.
The man holding it frowned. He muttered something quickly to the others—strange words, impossible to understand. But amidst the chaos, one word struck like lightning:
"…Earth."
The protagonist froze, terror sharpening into confusion. They know? They know where I'm from?!
Before he could react, two others rushed in. A sharp blow to the back of his skull—darkness swallowed him whole.
He woke in a cell.
The air was damp, rancid, suffocating. Stone walls dripped with moisture. A faint glow from a strange rock embedded in the wall was the only light. Chains clamped around his ankles, freezing his skin. The pain from his missing arm was still unbearable.
Beside him stood a bucket of water. He crawled toward it like an animal, plunging his face in and drinking greedily.
Only then did he notice the others. Three figures in the shadows. One was missing both legs, another was wrapped in filthy bandages, his severed limb tossed carelessly nearby. All of them were broken, defeated. They stared at him with hollow eyes.
One tried to speak, but the words came out like meaningless noise.
And then—
A screen flashed before his eyes. Bright, orange, unreal.
[Welcome, User.][You have been granted a survival system.]
Attributes:
Strength: 10
Energy: 10
Willpower: 2/10
Agility: 9
Endurance: 8
Luck: 20 (locked, cannot be altered)
Intelligence: 18
Unique Skill:
Otherworld Traveler (Passive) — [First use without host's consent] 2/3
Passive Skill:
Language Adaptation — [Allows comprehension and communication in the local language.]
Skill Points: 10(Note: Because of your unique skill, you cannot use points to upgrade newly acquired abilities. Points may only be allocated to attributes.)
His heart pounded. His mind reeled.
"What… the fuck is this?! Who the hell are you?!" he screamed. "What kind of bullshit is this?! You throw me here to die, rip my arm off, and then act like this is all normal?!"
The screen pulsed, words shifting, almost… speaking.
[I am your system. I will aid you.][I know you are afraid. But this could not be avoided. It is necessary.]
"Necessary?!" Rage and despair crashed together inside him. "Necessary for who?! I nearly died the second I got here! I lost my arm! You think I can survive like this for a year?!" Tears stung his eyes. His chest tightened with hopelessness. "I'll die here… like a dog… chained in some dungeon."
[You are not only in another world… but another time. This world is tied to yours. You were sent back one year. When that year passes, you will return—at the exact moment you left.]
"A YEAR?!" His scream echoed in the cell. He shook his head violently. "No… no, no, no. This is a fucking nightmare…"
The system's words began to distort. The orange glow flickered, then bled into crimson. Letters warped, corrupted.
[System Support has already been granted. Be grateful.]
Then—silence.
His breath came in ragged gasps. He looked up, trembling, eyes red from pain and tears.
Across the hallway, in another cell, shadows shifted. People—watching him. Broken like him.
He wanted to call out. To speak.
And this time… he understood them.
The guttural noise from before now carried meaning—thanks to the system.
Before he could respond, the door to his cell creaked open. Two armored figures stepped inside.
And the nightmare began again.