A strange smell crept into Vins's nose, pulling him out of the darkness. The scent of damp soil, rotting wood, and unfamiliar herbs filled the air.
He blinked slowly, trying to adjust his vision to the dim light filtering through the cracks in the wooden ceiling above.
His head throbbed with a dull ache, reminiscent of a severe hangover after a night of staying up too long.
But this pain was different. Deeper. More rooted.
He raised a hand to wipe his sweaty brow and realized how dirty and torn the sleeve of his shirt was.
Memories flickered—heavy rain, slippery roads, the blinding headlights of a truck… and then, emptiness.
"Damn truck driver…" he muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse and strange even to his own ears.
Slowly, his protesting muscles forced him upright. The wooden bed creaked loudly as he pushed himself to sit, as if complaining along with him.
The room was small, so simple it made his chest feel tight.
Everything was made of wood—walls, floor, ceiling. A small window without glass was covered with rough cloth, fluttering in the breeze.
In the corner, a bamboo basket and an old shovel lay on the floor, subtle signs that this room had once been used for farm work.
He was alive.
Every ache, every pang told him that. And yet, the strange surroundings only deepened his unease.
If I'm alive… then where am I? he murmured, a twinge of anxiety crawling through him.
Yet beneath it, a faint spark of hope stirred, enough to make his chest pound. Could it be… I've really crossed into another world?
He drew a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.
For now, survival was the first priority—simple as that.
At that moment, the wooden door creaked open, shattering the room's silence.
A woman stepped in, carrying a steaming bowl of soup. Her hair was tied back simply, and her face was kind, though worn with fatigue.
"You're awake," she said warmly. "I'm Lena. My husband found you unconscious at the edge of the fields yesterday."
Vins blinked. The language flowing from her lips was completely foreign, yet oddly he understood it perfectly, as if it were his mother tongue.
He studied her carefully. Her expression was non-threatening, but her stance remained cautious—standing a small distance from the bed, as if keeping a safe space from the newly awakened stranger.
"Vins," he replied shortly, "thank you… where… am I?"
"Oakhaven Village," Lena answered, setting the bowl on a small table. "Are you lost? It's rare for outsiders to reach here."
Her question was reasonable, yet Vins sensed a hidden curiosity. He decided to tread carefully.
"My group was attacked by bandits," he said, fabricating a plausible story. "I ran and got lost in the forest."
Lena nodded, her face showing empathy. "You were lucky to be found before nightfall. The forest is dangerous after dark."
She didn't ask further, though her eyes occasionally scanned him, as if trying to read the truth.
"Rest for now," Lena said finally. "I'll leave you alone for a while."
Before departing, she added, "Call if you need anything."
Once the door closed, Vins exhaled in relief. The interaction had gone smoothly. Lena appeared to be a genuinely kind person, simply trying to help while maintaining a respectful distance from a stranger.
Alone in the room, his mind began to work.
The fact that he could understand this foreign language perfectly—almost like it was his mother tongue—reinforced his belief.
This was no ordinary accident. He was truly in another world.
But what should he do here? Vins felt uneasy.
This new world seemed primitive, isolated—no technology, no acquaintances, no money.
Yet beneath his unease, a small bubble of excitement grew. A hope that perhaps, in this strange world, he could start a new life—better than the ordinary one he had left behind.
He remembered the fantasy novels he had read. The protagonists usually came with something—an unusual system, special powers, or at least knowledge from their previous world.
With a flicker of hope and a sea of uncertainty, Vins decided to test himself.
He focused inward, trying to sense the presence of something else within him.
"System," he whispered mentally, almost embarrassed at how ridiculous it felt.
Then—
Ding!
A crystalline, clear sound echoed in his head.
Before his eyes, a semi-transparent blue panel appeared, floating in midair. Strange text filled the display, but he could understand it instantly.
[CRAFTCITY SYSTEM - ACTIVE]
Settlement Level: Oakhaven (Village - Level 1)
Main Function: Equipment Enhancement – Copper Level
Available Crafting Points: 50
A flat, emotionless voice explained everything—concise, cold, and absolute.
The power awakening within him was not entirely his own; it was tied to the growth of the settlement he was in.
For now, he could enhance only one piece of equipment, transforming it to Copper Level.
Each enhancement required different points, depending on the tool.
Vins froze, processing the words.
Then his eyes gleamed—what had stunned him a moment ago turned into ecstatic anticipation.
It felt as though a curtain had lifted, revealing a brand-new world.
He could hardly wait. Gasping for breath, he pushed aside the blanket and let his trembling legs touch the wooden floor.
Each step was heavy; his muscles weak like jelly, yet his resolve blazed, propelling his frail body forward.
With effort, he crawled to the corner where the old shovel rested. His sweaty hands gripped the rough wood.
In his mind, he focused on the still-open system panel.
[Iron Shovel]
Enhancement Cost: 10 Points
Confirm? (Y/N)
"Yes!" he commanded internally, almost like a prayer.
Ding! The crystal sound rang again. Ten points drained instantly, leaving 40 remaining.
A dim, blue glow enveloped the shovel, pulsing briefly like a single breath before fading.
The change was subtle yet unmistakable. The once-rusted iron blade now gleamed warm copper, reflecting the sunlight streaming through the window.
The wooden handle retained its shape but looked sturdier, freshly varnished, free of rust and grime.
Vins lifted the shovel, eyes wide. Its weight had changed drastically—light as wood, yet solid and perfectly balanced in his hands.
When swung slowly, the air hissed, the copper blade glinted sharply, and the handle fit his grip as if it were an extension of his own body.
Suddenly, Lena's voice came from outside, footsteps approaching. Vins hurriedly returned the copper shovel to its corner.
His heart pounded, not from fear but excitement—a small smile forming on his lips.
This world might be strange, but now he had something he could rely on.