Volume One: First Arrival Chapter One: Transmigration

The persistent crowing of roosters jolted Meng Xingchen from his sleep. He turned over restlessly, intending to drift back into slumber, but the sharp pain from his wound forced a gasp from his lips and he sat up abruptly. He had been lying on his side; rolling over pressed against the injury on his back, and the jolt banished any lingering drowsiness.

Outside, darkness still reigned. Instinctively, he reached for his phone, but his hand found only the coarse bedsheet. Only then did he remember: he was not in his university dormitory. He had crossed over, transported to a world called the Azure Moon Continent—a place where magical beasts could shift instantaneously through shadows.

In this strange world, his phone was little more than a useless slab. Since his arrival, the device had gone completely dark and refused to power on, for reasons he could not fathom.

Now, Meng Xingchen was living in a tiny village of barely a dozen households, staying at the home of a local hunter named Li Danui.

With sleep banished, Meng Xingchen’s mind wandered back to yesterday—the most thrilling and terrifying day in his twenty years of otherwise ordinary life.

He was a sophomore at a second-tier university. Over the weekend, his club had organized a mountain hiking and camping trip: ascend the mountain Friday evening, set up camp halfway, and climb to the summit at dawn to watch the sunrise.

That was the plan, at least. In reality, Meng Xingchen didn’t wake until nearly eight in the morning. Crawling out of his tent, he found the campsite eerily quiet, save for the muffled chorus of snores rising from every tent. It seemed the sleeping bags had trapped everyone in their embrace, and none had managed an early rise.

He’d considered returning to bed, but stepping outside, the crisp winds of early winter sent a shiver through him, chasing away any trace of sleepiness.

Already awake, Meng Xingchen decided to stroll around, breathing in the fresh mountain air and taking in the scenery. But when he reached a cliff to gaze into the distance, he realized the valley was still shrouded in thick fog. The warm breath he exhaled condensed on his glasses, further clouding his vision. As he turned to head back, a gust of mountain wind swept past, and his foot slipped, sending him tumbling off the cliff.

When consciousness returned, Meng Xingchen was shocked to find his surroundings utterly changed.

His university was in River City, central China. In early winter, the leaves of most trees were yellowing or had already fallen, except for the evergreens. But now, before him stretched a verdant landscape: at the foot of a mountain, wild grasses and flourishing shrubs grew thickly, and beyond lay endless broad-leaved forests, tall and unbroken.

While he was still lost in confusion, a clear, mechanical female voice rang out in his mind: “Ding, Human Evolution System is loading. Please wait.”

Meng Xingchen was stunned. Was it really such a cliché? Surviving a fall from a cliff, gaining a system?

Before he could process it, the system had finished loading. The voice sounded again: “Ding, system loaded. Synchronizing fluency in the Azure Moon Continent’s common human language. The host may now randomly select a talent or supernatural ability. Would you like to draw now?”

Another shock struck him—was this another layer of transmigration?

Overwhelmed by the chain of events, Meng Xingchen’s mind stalled, and he remained silent. The system prompted again: “Ding, host unresponsive for extended period. Random draw will proceed automatically. Host has awakened the Insight ability. Details can be viewed on the attribute panel. Please use the system and your abilities to contribute to the revival of humanity.”

Meng Xingchen felt numb. “Well, since I’ve transmigrated, let’s see what sort of golden finger I’ve received,” he thought resignedly.

He silently called up the system. A long, rectangular panel, reminiscent of a character sheet from an online game, appeared in his mind.

Attributes / Tasks

Name: Meng Xingchen
Race: Human

Ability: Insight (Beginner, Skill Priority: ★)
Passive: Dispel Illusion—see through mist, dispel illusions.
Active 1: Panoramic Vision—consume mental energy to scan a three-meter radius, creating a 360-degree visual field.
Active 2: Internal View—consume mental energy to observe internal bodily conditions, including circulation and organs.
Biological Rank: Tier Zero, Level 0 (0/50)
Mental: 6/6
Constitution: 5/5
Agility: 4/4
Racial Contribution: 0/0
Skills: None

The panel was remarkably simple. Only three attributes: mental, constitution, and agility—far fewer than any game Meng Xingchen had ever played. The average value was five, which he found rather unsatisfying.

“Is this a subtle jab at me being utterly mediocre in combat?” Meng Xingchen silently complained.

The ability was noteworthy. Clearly, it was a support skill, and Meng Xingchen felt slightly disappointed. But soon, he discovered something unexpected.

He’d been so focused on the lottery interface and attribute panel in his mind that he hadn’t noticed the change in his vision. As an avid reader, he’d long suffered from worsening nearsightedness—480 degrees in the left eye, 520 in the right. His glasses had vanished during the transmigration, but now his sight was sharper than ever, as if he’d switched from 360p resolution to 12K ultra-high definition.

This was likely a passive effect of the skill. The main function—seeing through mist and dispelling illusions—was easy to grasp.

Meng Xingchen activated his first ability, Panoramic Vision. Instantly, his field of view expanded: aside from his regular sight, a hemispherical vision with a three-meter radius centered on his body formed.

This new vision was extraordinary. Though his normal sight could reach farther, it only clearly captured whatever he focused on; peripheral areas remained blurry. Yet within the hemisphere, every detail—large or small—was vividly transmitted to his mind.

But before he could rejoice, Meng Xingchen broke out in cold sweat. He saw, two meters behind him in the shrubs, a pair of gray-yellow eyes staring coldly at him. The black pupils, no larger than mung beans, radiated a bloodthirsty menace.

Meng Xingchen froze, not daring to move. At such close range, he was within the predator’s strike zone—any sudden movement could be fatal.

He was sitting on the ground. Facing an attack from behind, both escape and counterattack seemed nearly impossible. But he knew that stalemating was dangerous; the predator was watching, and would soon strike.

Slowly, he slid his right hand into the pocket of his hiking jacket. Inside was a multi-purpose folding knife. Though short and ill-suited as a weapon, it was better than fighting empty-handed.

Through Panoramic Vision, Meng Xingchen watched the eyes lower and draw back slightly. He immediately pushed off with his right leg, rolling his body leftward. A dark shadow lunged past, bringing with it a foul wind.

Even in this crisis, the system couldn’t resist adding its own chaos: “Ding, first main quest ‘Survive in the Otherworld’ has been issued. Details can be found in the task panel.”

By now, Meng Xingchen was half crouched, folding knife in hand. With a press of his thumb, he flicked open the cutting blade, scraping it against the grass.

The attacking predator revealed itself, circling to Meng Xingchen’s right front and growling deeply. It resembled an Earth black panther: glossy black fur, with a crescent-shaped patch of white above its forehead. Its body was smaller than a mature black panther, about half a meter at the shoulder and a meter long.

Meng Xingchen relaxed slightly—the creature’s size suggested it lacked overwhelming strength. He might have a fighting chance. Though he couldn’t match a feline’s speed, he held a weapon capable of hurting it; as long as he wasn’t outmatched in strength, a defensive counterattack might convince it to abandon its hunt.

However, the panther’s next moves quickly shattered his newfound confidence. Instead of attacking outright, it prowled among the shadows cast by the surrounding trees, shifting unpredictably. At one moment, it vanished and reappeared in the shadow behind Meng Xingchen, leaping for his nape.

Fortunately, Meng Xingchen’s Panoramic Vision warned him; otherwise, he might not even have realized his neck had been bitten through. Yet at such close range, escape was impossible. He managed only to duck and hunch his back, swinging his right elbow backward.

He avoided the lethal bite to his neck, but couldn’t evade the panther’s alternating front claws. A tearing sound rang out, and a searing pain flared across his back. At the same time, his elbow struck the panther’s chest, knocking it to the ground.

The panther rolled and quickly rose, once again prowling among the shadows.

Meng Xingchen saw through Panoramic Vision that the back of his hiking jacket had been shredded into strips. Luckily, the sturdy fabric and inner layers had cushioned the blow, so the wound was shallow, only slowly leaking blood.

After another tense standoff, Meng Xingchen realized the panther’s movements, though seemingly random, were always guiding him to turn so his shadow remained behind him.

He knew that continued stalemate would only work against him—especially since he was injured. After some thought, he deliberately followed the panther’s guidance, turning so his shadow was behind him. Then, without waiting for the panther to vanish from view, he spun around and stabbed with his knife.

Sure enough, the panther reappeared in his shadow and lunged at him, colliding head-on with the blade. The folding knife plunged between its front legs, and Meng Xingchen was knocked to the ground.

The blade was too short and small—though buried to the hilt, it wasn’t fatal. Instead, it enraged the panther, which pressed forward, jaws snapping for Meng Xingchen’s throat.

Lying prone, Meng Xingchen reached with his left hand, gripping the knife’s handle. With both hands, he forced the panther’s front half up into the air. The creature’s claws slashed wildly, but its forelegs weren’t long enough to reach his head or chest, only his arms. Yet with the knife lodged between its legs, its strength was diminished; it barely managed to tear the sleeve of his jacket, incapable of wounding his arms.

Nonetheless, the relentless attack made Meng Xingchen’s arms tremble from fatigue, threatening to give way at any moment.

It had become a contest of endurance.

Suddenly, a whistling sound cut through the air. An arrow struck, piercing the panther’s eye and burrowing into its skull. With a final convulsion, the beast died.