Chapter 2 — The Corner Shop and the First Story
Ken walked towards the entrance of monstadt as he interacted with the system.
'This is quite confusing, i still dont understand why i'm here and why it was me of all people to come'
The thought lingered in Ken's mind as he stepped through the gates of Mondstadt, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, half-lidded eyes lazily taking in the city before him.
The first thing he noticed was the air.
It felt… light.
The breeze carried the scent of cider, fresh bread, and flowers from somewhere nearby.
Cobblestone streets stretched ahead, lined with neat shops and flower boxes hanging beneath open windows. Windmills turned slowly overhead, their creaking blades catching the golden afternoon light.
For all the hours he had spent looking at this city through a screen, standing inside it felt entirely different.
Sharper.
Larger.
Alive.
People moved around him in loose groups.
Knights in armor.
Merchants hauling crates.
Children darting through the streets.
Ordinary people going about their lives.
And there he was.
A man who had collapsed in Tokyo and somehow woken up in Teyvat.
His lips twitched.
"Well," he muttered under his breath, "if this is a dream, it's an impressively detailed one."
The system panel flickered back into existence.
> [Beginner Rewards Delivered]
[Identity Established: Ken Lee]
[Property Granted: Corner Shop — Mondstadt East Quarter]
[Passive Skill Unlocked: Creator's Hand]
[Physical Optimization Completed]
[Newbie Package Bonus: Inhuman Creative Speed]
Ken's brows lifted.
Now that was useful.
He tapped the first line.
A smaller window unfolded.
> [Name: Ken Lee]
[Physical Age: 22]
[Occupation: Writer / Illustrator / Bookseller]
[Residence: East Quarter Corner Shop]
A faint smile curved his lips.
"Convenient."
No awkward questions.
No suspicious guards asking where he came from.
The system had effectively inserted him into the world.
A legal identity.
A home.
A business.
Honestly, he almost admired the efficiency.
The property line pulsed faintly.
Then a small directional marker appeared in the corner of his vision.
> [Destination Marked]
"…Of course."
He followed the marker through the quieter parts of the city, moving away from the busier square and cathedral district.
The streets gradually narrowed.
Less foot traffic.
More residential buildings.
Stone walls with ivy creeping along the edges.
Then he saw it.
A small two-story corner shop tucked neatly between two stone buildings.
A wooden sign swayed above the door.
Lee's Corner Stories
Ken stopped.
Then stared.
"…That's awful."
A beat passed.
Then the corner of his mouth lifted.
"…I kind of love it."
It was perfect.
Simple and concise.
The kind of place people would pass without much thought—until curiosity got the better of them.
He stepped inside.
The bell above the door chimed softly.
Warmth greeted him immediately.
The first floor was clearly the shop itself.
Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, mostly empty for now, though a few decorative volumes rested in neat stacks.
A small counter stood near the front.
A reading nook occupied the far corner, furnished with two chairs and a low wooden table.
Near the window sat a small display area where new volumes could be placed.
The perfect place to lure people in.
His gaze drifted toward the staircase at the back.
He ascended without hesitation.
The second floor opened into a much larger living area than he had expected.
A hallway stretched down the center.
Five doors.
Ken opened the first.
Bedroom.
Clearly his own.
A large bed.
Wardrobe.
Side table.
Simple, but comfortable.
The next three doors led to unused spare bedrooms, all fully furnished.
Guest rooms, storage, future use.
The final room—
Ken stopped at the doorway.
A slow grin spread across his face.
This was it.
His workspace.
A large desk dominated the room, positioned beside tall windows that allowed sunlight to flood the wooden surface.
Shelves lined the walls.
Drawers for pens, paper, and tools.
Ink bottles.
Brushes.
Blank sheets stacked in perfect order.
This room alone was enough to make him almost forget the absurdity of everything else.
A place to live.
A place to work.
A place to create.
His fingers ran across the smooth desk.
A familiar calm settled into his chest.
This.
This felt right.
"…Now this," he murmured softly, "I can work with."
The system flickered again.
> [Archive Access Available]
[Suggested First Publication: Naruto — Volume 1]
His gaze lingered on the title.
Then softened.
Naruto.
A classic.
More than that—
one of his childhood favorites.
One of the first manga that had truly pulled him into storytelling.
He could still remember staying awake far later than he should have, flipping through the pages as a kid, completely absorbed.
Naruto's loneliness.
His dreams.
His reckless determination.
His desire to be acknowledged.
For a city like Mondstadt, it was perfect.
Freedom.
Dreams.
Recognition.
Friendship.
Everything about it fit.
The system's suggestion had only confirmed what he had already been thinking.
His lips curved.
"Good taste."
He sat down at the desk and began exploring the system more carefully.
Then his eyes landed on the passive skill.
> [Newbie Package Bonus: Inhuman Creative Speed]
[Writing, drawing, and panel composition speed greatly enhanced.]
Ken stared for a moment.
Then laughed.
"Oh, now that is absurd."
So that was the so called 'golden finger'
Not really adrenaline inducing is it.
Well, atleast its helpful
A normal artist would need weeks to finish a polished volume.
He could likely do it in days, assuming the talent is how good he think it is.
His fingers tapped against the desk thoughtfully.
Naruto was long.
Ridiculously long.
If he followed the original pacing, it would take years.
Inefficient.
No.
Better to compress.
He leaned back slightly, smirk deepening.
"Bi-weekly."
Yes.
That was perfect.
A new volume every two weeks.
And each release would contain the equivalent of twelve chapters from the original manga.
Enough content to keep readers obsessed.
Fast enough to progress the story meaningfully.
Slow enough to maintain anticipation.
His grin sharpened.
"Efficient, elegant, and profitable."
Very much his style.
Satisfied, he finally reached for the pen.
The moment it touched his fingers, something clicked.
Muscle memory.
Instinct.
Years of brutal studio work.
Perspective.
Paneling.
Flow.
Everything slid into place.
He pulled the first blank sheet toward him.
Then paused.
The first page.
The first story.
The first real step of his second life.
A slow grin spread across his face.
"Let's make history."
The pen moved.
Fast.
No—
faster than fast.
The lines appeared with unnerving speed and precision.
The Hokage monument.
The opening prank.
Naruto's chaotic grin.
Every expression.
Every panel.
Every line of dialogue.
Perfectly paced.
Hours passed.
Or perhaps only moments.
The sunlight outside shifted.
Afternoon gave way to dusk.
Dusk gave way to moonlight.
Yet Ken barely noticed.
His world had narrowed entirely to the page.
Panel after panel.
Scene after scene.
Twelve chapters compressed into a single seamless volume.
Refined.
Tightened.
Perfectly paced.
By the time he finally leaned back, moonlight spilled across the desk.
A complete manuscript rested before him.
Naruto — Volume 1
Ken stared at it.
Then let out a slow, deeply satisfied breath.
"…Beautiful."
A little arrogant?
Absolutely.
But he had earned it.
His gaze lingered on the blond troublemaker grinning up from the cover.
A lonely outcast chasing acknowledgment.
A story about being seen.
In a city built on freedom and hope.
Perfect.
Tomorrow, it would go on display downstairs.
And once the people of Mondstadt got their first taste of real serialized storytelling—
there would be no going back.
A slow, smug smile spread across his face.
"If this doesn't sell," he murmured into the quiet room, "then this city has no taste."
Outside, the wind whispered through the streets.
Inside, the first revolution of Teyvat's literary culture rested quietly on his desk.
And by tomorrow morning—
the world would begin to change.