Alright then, cool. Shit, that was a pun, wasn’t it. Oh well.

So, it’s pretty obvious that this isn’t a prank, or if it was, then it’s a pretty elaborate one. Definitely not something that Mark and Ted had the brains to set up, nor the money to pay someone else to do all the hard work for them. Okay.

It’s probably not a dream, either. Only a moron wouldn’t know they weren’t dreaming, and he wasn’t a moron. Not that he was exactly smart, either, but that wasn’t the point here, the point is that he’s wide awake and he had no idea where he was. Was there anywhere near him that snowed? Dumb question, he lived by the mountains, it always snowed there in the winter, it was famous, “world’s best snow” and all that. But it was the middle of July, so. You know. Unless nuclear winter happened while he was blackout drunk, it shouldn’t be snowing right now.

The nuclear winter theory is also completely bunk, because it doesn’t explain why he’s in a cabin, or why someone felt the need to change all his clothes, or anything else about this situation, really. So what the actual hell was going on?

He needed to sit down and think, panicking over this wasn’t going to solve anything. Sitting down in the chair did nothing to help him either, but at least now he could rest his sore legs. The chair was as uncomfortable as he imagined it to be, but it was better than standing, considering, you know, the situation. Hung over. Blizzard. No idea where he was. Just some small problems.

For starters, there was nothing he could do about his hang over, which was bad, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t dealt with one before, either. It would go away, eventually. Maybe there was some water he could drink somewhere, that should help a little. He looked around again, hoping he missed something when he first entered the room, but it was exactly as he first saw it. Not a drop of water in sight.

Blizzard, again, not like there was anything he could do about that. Better men than him had tried to control the weather and utterly failed. Then again, with all the bad luck he’d had lately, maybe if he just waved his arms around like a lunatic, the blizzard would go away.

… No, he could still hear the storm outside, so that didn’t work. Oh well, worth a shot.

Finally, he had no idea where he was. Again, nothing he could do about that, either. Especially because of problem number two, the blizzard.

If he didn’t already have a hangover, he was sure he’d certainly be cultivating a stress headache right about now. Or maybe he already had a stress headache, and it was compounding the hangover. Is that how headaches worked? Probably not, but it wasn’t like he was a doctor, so his knowledge on the subject wasn’t exactly something that could be called “great.”

Well, at the very least, he supposed he could take a look at these books since there wasn’t exactly anything else to do right now. Physical books hadn’t really been this thing for a long, long time, since he mostly watched anime or read manga whenever he wanted to experience a story, but hey. And while reading may aggravate his headache, at least it would be… something to distract himself. So he grabbed the top book, bound in some blue material, and attempted to read the title.

It was gibberish. Of course it was. The letters looked pretty, though. A lot more elegant than English looked, anyway, but then again maybe English only looked rough because he knew how to read it. The next book he grabbed seemed to be written with the same alphabet as the first, so he couldn’t read that either. The book after that, though, seemed to be something else entirely. It was bound in a different material than the previous two, which was both rough and very very red. Not crimson, just, dark red, almost black. The letters looked much more aggressive, with sharp lines and rough edges that didn’t make any sense. It looked like a language that would be a very big pain to both write and read. The book under the evil looking one was similar to the first two, but again, it wasn’t like he could read it.

Underneath all that was something completely surprising that changed his situation immediately! It was another book that he couldn’t read! Fantastic! Well, probably not a book, actually, since it was smaller and had fewer pages. There also wasn’t a title on it, and instead there was some small lettering in the bottom left corner, in the same language as the first book. The binding also went around the entire book and acted as a cover as well, but he was easily able to open it up since the only thing keeping it closed was a button. Not that opening it actually did anything for him though, since he couldn’t read what was in it.

“Well, that was fun,” Lucas lied to himself as he set the final book aside. The wind was still howling outside, the room still stank of piss, and he still wanted to go home.

Maybe the dresser in the basement had something that would clue him in as to what was going on here. It probably didn’t, but it wasn’t like he could go anywhere right now, and it wasn’t like he had anything else to occupy himself, so screw it. Let’s go open the creepy dresser in the creepy ritual room. What could possibly go wrong.

At least the howling wind wasn’t as loud in the basement as it was upstairs. Not by a lot, mind you, but Lucas would take what he could get at this point, even if all he was getting was a slightly quieter room.

The dresser had 5 drawers; two smaller ones that were side by side on the top, then three larger ones below it, stacked on top of each other. It was made of a different, darker wood than the desk and chair upstairs were made of, and it did look quite a bit nastier. What could only be described as uncut roots and branches snaked their way out of various parts of the dresser, making it look much more evil. He didn’t remember it looking this nasty when he left the room earlier, but then again he hadn’t exactly been paying attention to it when he first woke up, either.

Inside of the top two drawers were more candles, and whatever was used to paint that ritual circle he woke up in earlier. Again, though, there were no tools to be found with either the candles nor the ink/paint/whatever it was. No matches, no brushes, no pens, no lighters. Whoever painted the circle and set up the candles must have absconded with the tools necessary to use them. Great. Not that he was in any rush to paint his own demonic cult magic circle thing, but having something to start a fire with would be nice.

Not that he was cold, either, now that he thought about it. Huh. Interesting that although he was presumably in the middle of nowhere with a storm raging, that he wasn’t cold.

Not that he was complaining or anything, but. Well. He’d think about it later.

The next drawer he checked had… his uniform in it. Neat. Why would someone undress him, put him in these ancient clothes, but then just leave his work clothes in the dresser? What? That didn’t make any sense. He checked his pants pocket for his phone, but alas, his phone was nowhere to be found.

The drawer under it had nothing in it. Great. Fantastic, even.

With his luck down in the pits, he really didn’t expect anything from the final drawer, but it actually ended up looking like something interesting was in it after all. Inside of the drawer was a wooden box, again made of a different wood from the woods he had seen before. Whereas the other two woods had been dark, and darker, this wood was completely charred black, to the point where he suspected it hadn’t been wood at all until he picked it up. But, there were some grains on it, and it felt very woody, so unless someone decided to finally come out from behind the metaphorical curtains and tell him what was going on here, he would define this box as wood just like the rest.

Opening this box didn’t take much effort at all, either, as there was a simple brown, unlocked latch. When he opened it, he was greeted with a single, yellow sticky note, and a bright blue crystal/rock. Honestly, it was hard to tell what it was. The more he looked at it, the more the object refused to adhere to any sense of normalcy. It looked like a rock, then he’d blink, and he’d swear it looked more like a crystal, but then half a second later and it’d look like a rock again. To say it was weird was an understatement, but it was hardly the weirdest thing around.

After deciding to move his attention away from the rock, he looked at the stick note, which was written in English – finally! Something he could read! – it said:

“eat the rock.”

“What? Why?” He asked himself, not really expecting an answer. He got one. The words erased themselves from the sticky note, and it now read:

“just do it.”

The note then lit on fire and burnt away before he could so much as even react to it, leaving the rock/crystal thing alone in the box. Now, Lucas wasn’t thrilled about being told what to do by a sticky note, and the fact it just went up in flames didn’t inspire any confidence in him, either. But, and this was a big but, he did wake up in the middle of nowhere, and in the middle of that stupid circle. If someone had wanted him dead or harmed, they could have easily done it by now. There was a good chance that the suspicious rock wouldn’t do anything bad, to say the least, and he had eaten worse things before. Granted, those worse things were all eaten when he was a child, but they hadn’t killed him, and this rock probably wouldn’t either.

Probably.

…

Was he really going to eat a stupid shape-shifting stone because a sticky note told him to?

…

There was definitely something weird going on, but did that something weird really require him to eat a rock? I mean, it was small enough that he could just swallow it whole, but, still. Fine, he’d eat the thing, if only because there was a slim chance doing so will give him some answers.

He fully intended to tilt his head back and just gulp it down all in one go, and initially his plan worked. The rock, or something else, however, seemed to have other plans, as it latched itself to his tongue, and began to get warmer. When he tried to spit it back out, but his tongue refused to obey him, and when he tried to open his mouth and grab it with his hand, his mouth refused to open. So, he stood there, wondering if the sticky note had somehow tricked him into eating something that was currently killing him. He could see it now, his gravestone would read something along the lines of “dumb guy killed by rock,” great.

In the end, the stone didn’t kill him, and eventually slid down his throat, along with all the warmth it created.

“So was that supposed to do something?” Lucas asked no one. Again, though, just like with the sticky note, he did get an answer. Sort of.

[Lucas (?) – Human (?)

Level 20 Ice Mage

HP ?/?

MP ?/?

Strength - ?

Dexterity - ?

Vitality - ?

Perception - 0

Intelligence - ?

Wisdom - ?

Luck - ?]

[Available Stat Points – 40]

[Available Skill Points – 40]

The words appeared in front of him, like a screen, and Goddammit. He’d read enough manga and watched enough isekai to know exactly what was going on now.

Some innocuous-looking dude he’d seen for the first time yesterday – probably that guy from the bar – was some God of Knowledge, or God of Everything, or God of Freshly Minted Coins, or something similar to that. He then proceeded to rudely toss him here, in a world with stats and magic and goblins and dragons and other horrible monsters, to do something or other, because no one else could be bothered to.

“Well, I’m here, what now?” Lucas asked, hoping that whoever sent him here would finally respond to him. They didn’t.

So, the current working theory was that some other-worldly God sent him here for some reason that they didn’t care to share with him. Now, if there weren’t some higher entity – or whatever else could do something like this to him – behind all this, that would be neat, but things like this just didn’t happen without someone with at least that much power orchestrating it. People don’t just walk down the street, get whisked away, and “oops! You’re in a magic snow land now!” This kind of thing just doesn’t happen without someone pulling some strings.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, since there was the type of story where this did just happen for no good reason, but he really, really hoped this wasn’t like that. He didn’t want to imagine he just got stuck here because he won the worst lottery to exist. So until he could prove otherwise, he’d go with the other-worldly God theory, because at least that gave him someone to curse at for all the misery he was no doubt going to be forced to go through.

“Well, this bites,” Lucas swore and pinched his forehead between this thumb and pointer finger. Obviously, whoever chose him certainly knew how to pick someone who wouldn’t cause a huge strain on society back on Earth – the only people who would miss him were his employees, since he was supposed to get a schedule out to them in a couple of days, his parents, since they were about the only people he even talked to anymore, and maybe his ex would know he was gone if she tried mooching more money off him. But if a God could whisk him away like this, he doubted the God wouldn’t be able to properly handle any loose ends like that.

“Look on the bright side, at least I don’t have to go in to work and manage my employees tomorrow,” Lucas laughed at his own little joke. It was all he could do at this point, really.

He needed to sit down and calm his nerves. Plus, his legs were becoming even more sore, and his back was absolutely killing him. As he suspected it would, since he had been asleep on cold, wooden flooring for who knows how long.

When he climbed up the stairs and entered the log-cabin proper once more, there were a few things in the room that definitely weren’t there before. In the corner, by the straw-bed, was an old wooden bucket, and on top of the desk was a belt with two large metal canteens attached to it.

“Okay, I know someone’s here, just come out, please,” Lucas shouted. No one answered.

“Stuff doesn’t just appear out of nowhere!” He shouted again, and again, no one answered. The only thing to be heard was the storm, which was still howling and screeching outside.

At least the hideous chair wasn’t out to get him. Sitting down in it gave his legs some immediate relief, even if they still hurt. Didn’t really do anything for his back, though. Or his headache. Or his shoulders. Or all the other pain that was currently coursing through his body because of all the drinks he had last night.

The books laying on the desk in front of him tantalized him. If only he could read them. Oh, wait, this is magic isekai land! Surely, now that he ate that blue stone, he’d magically gain the powers to read whatever was in here, because God or the system or whatever would let him.

He grabbed the least intimidating looking one, and tried reading it. No matter how he focused or concentrated, he still couldn’t understand whatever runic language this was written in. Now that was just too hardcore. Seriously, he wasn’t given the ability to read whatever the common language was? Seriously?

And what was up with his status earlier, anyway? Everything was question marks, there were no numbers at all on any of his stats except perception which was at an astounding 0. What kind of protagonist in an isekai starts out with a 0 in anything, anyway? He did, apparently.

“And what kind of crappy system doesn’t even give me any skills to start with, either?” He complained out loud.

[Current Skills

Ice Arrow I

Ice Shield I

Ice Manipulation I

Water Manipulation I

Observe 0]

[Skill Points: 40]

“Thank you,” Lucas sarcastically thanked whoever was listening. His skills were plain, but at least he started with some. At least this world wasn’t obtsue enough to spit out the manager of a ***dy’s in the middle of nowhere with nothing to help him survive.

But that [Observe 0] skill didn’t exactly strike a whole lot of confidence in him, either. How is he supposed to examine this thing again? The system had just been appearing in front of him naturally whenever he said things, so maybe if he said the skill name, he’d get more information from it.

“[Observe 0],” Lucas said. Nothing happened. He said it again, and again, nothing happened.

“Ice Arrow,” he tried a different skill.

[Upgrade For 1 Point? Y/N]

He thought about it, but decided against upgrading it. The upgrade screen went away as he kept his skill at its base level. [Ice Arrow] didn’t sound powerful at all, and since it was a freebie, it definitely wasn’t going to be impressive, but he wanted to know what he was working with before he started improving his skills.

“What else is there,” He mumbled to himself, trying to remember those dumb isekai tropes. He wasn’t proud of if, but he had read an astonishing amount of them, so at the very least he should know what he was working with after a few simple tests.

“Inventory,” he said. This one was a basic one, everyone sent to a magical world had one of these to carry all their goods and treasures and necessities in them. Right? However, the system seemed to disagree with him, as nothing happened.

“Inventory,” he said again. Again, nothing happened.

He grabbed one of the books he couldn’t read, and said “Inventory,” for a third time, and for the third time, nothing happened. Someone sent him to a world without giving him an inventory to pack all the necessities in. A bestial scream erupted from his mouth, a scream he didn’t even know he had in him, but come on, could you blame him? Everyone started out with something, even if it was something as simple as a 1x1 boxgrid that he could only store one item in! No inventory was unheard- well, almost unheard of!

“Is there a complete skill list I can see or something?” He asked. Maybe he could unlock an inventory skill with the 40 points he had. Unfortunately, no words appeared in front of him as the system stayed silent.

“Can I unlock more skills with the points I have?” Lucas tried asking the question in a different way, as he really, really hoped there was something else here. The skills he had were fine enough, but how was he supposed to talk to someone if he didn’t have a language skill? How was he supposed to carry things around without an inventory? He needed more if he was going to survive in a world like this!

Thankfully, the system pulled up a list. It wasn’t a good list, but it was a start.