I'm not a Witcher anymore.

Just seconds before, he was in Kaer Moham’s small, cold stone chamber.

But now, the streets beneath my feet belong to another world.

Zig took a deep breath.

The air was no longer filled with the lingering smell of lime, mildew, and cold of Kaer Mohan; instead, it was filled with the lively atmosphere of charcoal fires, livestock, leather, spices, wine, and people all mixed together.

The pungent smell of smoke almost carried warmth, making his chest feel slightly swollen.

The streets were crowded with makeshift stalls.

Fresh vegetables were piled up on a wooden board, their leaves moist and shiny, and the roots still covered with mud that hadn't been shaken off.

A whole piece of fresh meat hung on an iron hook in the butcher shop next door, blood dripping down the edges and forming dark marks on the ground.

Further ahead, there was a barbecue stall with a charcoal fire burning brightly.

The oil fell into the fire, crackling and popping, releasing a smoky and smoky aroma.

Stalls selling wine and hot drinks lined the side, their earthenware jars filled with liquids of varying shades: the amber of mead, the golden hue of ale, and the dark brown of spiced tea, all gleaming warmly in the sunlight.

Further afield, there are wood carvings, pottery, leather goods, and bolts of cloth hanging in the air.

As the wind swept past the street corner, the edges of the fabric fluttered gently, stirring up the noise and heat of the entire street.

Zig did not linger in the middle of the road.

He glanced around before leaving the center of the street, walking quickly to one side along the edge of the crowd, and then slipping into a dark corner between two buildings.

As his back pressed against the stone wall, a rough and hard chill seeped through his leather armor.

Only then did the slight feeling of unsteadiness beneath his feet finally subside.

The noise still echoed in my ears.

But Zig had already closed his eyes, letting his consciousness sink back into the depths of his mind.

That thick, ancient book of adventure is silently floating in the darkness.

With a slight thought, the pages of the book turned on their own.

On the yellowed paper, ink slowly flows out from the originally blank grid, like a stream flowing along the pre-carved lines, eventually condensing into lines of clear text.

"Teleportation complete"

"Dungeon World: Goblin Slayer"

"Note: You have automatically acquired the common language of this world. You will automatically forget it after leaving this world."

"New player quest completed: First entry into an unlocked dungeon world"

"The gift has arrived: 'Skill' Archery Mastery"

"Archery Mastery: Your eyes can now discern the subtle textures of the wind; distance, deviation, and point of impact become increasingly clear. The connection between drawing the bow, aiming, and releasing the string becomes almost instinctive, and breathing and exertion gradually merge into one. Whether stationary or moving, you maintain astonishing stability, locking onto your target in fleeting moments and sending the arrow where it should be."

Zig opened his eyes.

The changes occurred almost simultaneously.

It wasn't pain or dizziness, but a whole set of unfamiliar yet complete experiences that were forcefully poured into his bones, nerves, and fingertips.

The feeling wasn't like a memory; it was more like an instinct that had been honed into his body through countless attempts to draw the bow, adjust it, and judge the wind direction and landing point, which was then crammed into him in one go.

His right index finger twitched slightly.

It's like searching for a bowstring.

Zieg stood in the shadows, not moving immediately, but looking back at the end of the street.

Then, he clearly felt that the world before him was different.

In the noisy crowd, everyone's steps, center of gravity, and where their next step would land became clear and predictable in his eyes.

The air no longer just flows invisibly; the wind, deflection, and undulation that were originally invisible are now as if drawn out from the void by something, vaguely revealing a trajectory that can be judged.

If you give him a bow right now.

Even a sparrow flying diagonally past from a hundred paces away can be discerned by the arc of its wings, the slant of the wind, and its next destination.

The moment your fingers loosen their grip, the outcome is already decided.

Zig did not speak.

He simply exhaled slowly, letting the power that had suddenly flooded his body gradually sink into his flesh and blood.

But that clear and sharp feeling did not dissipate.

It remained in his eyes, between his fingers and breath, quietly waiting to be used for the first time.

Deep in my mind, the pages of the book turned again.

New words slowly emerged on the paper, their edges shimmering with a faint glow.

Main questline now available.

Main Quest 1: Become an Obsidian-Rank Adventurer

"Main Quest Two: Unlocked after completing Main Quest One"

"Note: You can only return to the main world after completing all main quests."

Please plan your actions carefully and ensure your safety.

The pages continued to turn.

A new chapter unfolds.

"In this world, you can obtain and unlock the following milestones."

"First Impression: First Goblin Kill"

"Goblin Hunter: Kill 10 Goblin Soldiers"

"Conquer the city: Take down a castle/city/fortress occupied by goblins"

"Eye Pain: Slay an Eye Demon"

"King Killer: Slay a Goblin King"

Zieg read it line by line.

He didn't look away from the book until he saw the last word.

The Book of Adventure then closed again, sinking deep into the depths of his mind.

The next moment, the noise from the street returned.

But this time, the sounds no longer seemed chaotic.

What sounds like a jumbled mess to the average person, to him it was as if an invisible hand had separated them into distinct categories.

Distance, weight, direction, and sequence were all so clear they were almost blinding.

The shouts of vendors during trade, the raised voices during haggling, the dull thud of wooden wheels rolling over stone slabs, the short, harsh friction of metal clashing in the distance…

They intersect, yet remain clearly distinct.

Zieg turned his head slightly.

In an instant, he found the line he was looking for in this vast and chaotic city—

The metallic scraping sound of cheap armor rubbing against each other, the heavy footsteps of rough leather boots on stone slabs, and the smell mixed in the wind: the pungent odor of cheap beer, old blood, and sweat that had accumulated for a long time.

He doesn't need to ask for directions.

Following the sound and smell, Zig walked against the flow of people.

His steps were slow, but steady.

People walked back and forth beside him, shoulders, loads of goods, baskets and hems of clothes constantly passing by the edge of his field of vision, but he never bumped into anyone.

Every turn to the side, every step back, every half-inch of advance preparation—it all seemed to be planned in advance.

Before long, a rather conspicuous building came into his view.

The white stucco walls and dark brown wooden beams interweave to form a typical half-timber structure.

The three-story building, towering over the street, is much wider and more conspicuous than the surrounding shops.

The reddish-brown tiles gleamed slightly in the sunlight.

Behind several bright glass windows, figures occasionally flickered by.

Even from a distance, one could still hear the rough laughter and the dull thud of wooden cups colliding, coming from inside the door.

Zieg raised his hand to adjust the Wolf School leather armor on his shoulder, then strode towards the door.

The heavy doors were wide open.

People came and went, and the door hinges and wooden planks made a dull rubbing sound as they were pushed and pushed.

As soon as I approached the door, a smell even stronger than the one on the street hit me – the smell of alcohol, leather, sweat, the smoke from burning oil lamps, and the rusty smell of weapons that had been carried on my body for a long time.

Zig stepped across the threshold and entered the guild hall.

The space inside was even more spacious than it appeared from the outside.

Dozens of oil lamps and crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their light mingling with the sunlight streaming in from the high windows, illuminating the entire hall brightly and transparently.

Thick wooden beams stretched overhead, guild flags and several wooden signs filled with mission instructions hung on the walls, and long tables, benches and barrels of wine were scattered around, filling the entire hall to the brim, yet in a chaotic yet orderly fashion.

Dozens of adventurers were gathered in the hall.

The long tables were already full of people, and hushed conversations came one after another. When the argument reached a critical point, their knuckles slammed heavily on the table, producing a dull echo.

In the corner, there were also a few quiet figures, each with their heads down, wiping their weapons. The cloth scraped slowly along the blades, creating a subtle, dry friction sound.

The area near the wine barrels was much noisier. Several men, their faces flushed from drinking, smashed wooden cups back onto the table, splashing wine everywhere. Their boisterous laughter almost shook the dust off the beams.

The front desk window was also packed with people.

Those collecting authorizations and submitting certificates lined up shoulder to shoulder, blocking almost no space in front of the counter.

Zig found a seat by the window and sat down.

He didn't rush forward, but waited quietly.

There was still a long queue in front of the counter, with adventurers coming and going in waves. The sounds of footsteps, voices, and the thud of wooden cups hitting the table mixed together, keeping the whole hall from ever quiet.

Time passed slowly as we waited.

The sunlight streaming in through the window was also subtly shifting, gradually transforming from long, slanted shadows falling obliquely on the floor into a brighter, straighter white light.

The number of people in front of the counter gradually decreased, and the long queue that was originally packed together was now reduced to just a few people still waiting.

Zig then got up.

He raised his hand to brush off any dust that might have gotten on his clothes, then walked toward the service counter.

A young woman, who looked to be under twenty, was standing behind the counter.

She wore a white shirt with a dark blue vest over it, and a neatly tied bow tie at the collar.

Her long, golden hair was neatly combed, braided from the back of her head, and fell down her right shoulder, shimmering with a warm, light gold hue in the sunlight.

As Zieg approached, she was seeing off the last customer of the morning.

Only after the person turned and left did she let out a soft breath, lean back slightly, and raise her hand to press her temple.

A thin layer of sweat floated on his forehead, and a few strands of loose blond hair were stuck to his cheeks with sweat, clearly indicating that this morning had not been easy.

But when she caught a glimpse of someone approaching, her weariness was quickly suppressed again.

She sat up straight, picked up a handkerchief to wipe her forehead, tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, then raised her face, revealing a well-trained yet natural smile.

When Zig finally stood in front of the counter, he was greeted by a guild receptionist with a dignified expression and a gentle demeanor.

"Hello, welcome to the Adventurers' Guild."

Her voice was clear and crisp, with just the right amount of politeness.

"Excuse me, is there anything I can do for you?"

Zieg nodded slightly.

"I want to register as an adventurer."

"Okay, please wait a moment."

Without asking any further questions, she immediately bent down and took out a piece of parchment from under the counter, and handed over a quill pen and a small bottle of ink.

"Please fill out this registration form first. After you have finished, I will process the subsequent procedures for you."

Zieg reached out and took it.

The parchment felt dry and rough to the touch. He glanced at it, his eyebrows twitching almost imperceptibly.

This form is more detailed than he expected.

Name, background, age, past experiences, strengths, preferred weapon, literacy, formal training...

The questions were listed in rows, densely packed together; at a rough glance, there were at least thirty.

However, these were not much of a problem for him.

Zieg picked up his quill and quickly began to write.

The pen tip glided across the parchment, making a soft, dry scratching sound. Lines of ink fell, slowly but steadily.

Before long, the form, which was mostly empty, was filled in.

After he finished writing, he scanned it from beginning to end again.

After confirming that there were no logical inconsistencies and no obvious flaws, Zieg handed the parchment back.

The young receptionist took the form with both hands and carefully examined it.

She read very carefully, her gaze moving back and forth between the lines of text, occasionally pausing for a moment, as if checking the contents.

After a few seconds, she raised her head again and nodded to Qige.

"There is no problem with your information."

After saying that, she put the form aside and reached under the counter.

When she took it out again, she had a string of white porcelain nameplates strung together with a thin chain in her hand.

She gently pushed the item across the counter, stopping it in front of Zig. The porcelain surface gleamed with a warm and serene white in the sunlight.

Zieg reached out and picked up the nameplate.

The moment my fingertips touched the porcelain surface, a warm and delicate sensation traveled up my fingertips.

It is softer than metal, lacking that cold, hard edge, yet it is not fragile either; instead, it possesses a well-polished solidity.

He glanced down at it.

The nameplate is engraved with the name, number, and place of origin on the front.

The characters are neat and clear, with lines deeply embedded in the edge of the porcelain surface, so fine that they are almost burr-free. It is obviously not something carved by an ordinary craftsman, but rather something that has been mixed with magic or other special techniques.

Zieg hung the thin chain around his neck.

The white porcelain nameplate drooped down and gently touched the leather armor on the chest, making a very soft, crisp sound.

"Mr. Zieg."

Leah hesitated for a moment, but still called out to him.

Her tone remained polite, but it was more serious than before.

"Although the Porcelain Rank is only the initial rank, it already represents the guild's recognition of your status."

"As is customary, I would like to give you a suggestion—if this is your first time officially taking on a commission, it is best to start with the 'giant rat cleanup' of the town's sewers."

"The pay isn't high, but it's relatively safe and suitable for getting familiar with the process."

Zieg looked up at her.

"Thanks for reminding me."

His tone was very calm.

"However, what I need now is a detailed map of the area surrounding the border town. The more detailed, the better."

Lia was slightly taken aback.

During her time working in the guild, she saw too many young people who had just successfully registered.

Those still full of youthful enthusiasm immediately asked where the highest bounty was; those trying to appear experienced insisted on choosing the most dangerous monsters to prove themselves; and many others, without even knowing the roads outside the city, rushed off into the wilderness as if afraid of living too long.

People like Zieg, who have just received their nameplates and whose first action is to look for a map, are actually quite rare.

She quickly came to her senses and nodded.

"The guild has the map you requested."

"Updated quarterly, new markings will be added for water sources, vegetation, roads, and monster activity areas."

She paused for a moment.

"The price is two gold coins."

Zieg did not respond immediately.

He simply reached his hand to his side, as if to touch his purse.

But the next moment, what landed on the counter was not a gold coin, but a red agate with a smooth cut and a rich color.

The gemstone lay quietly on the wooden counter.

The sunlight streaming through the high window slanted in, casting a deep, thick, dark red glow inside, like a drop of congealed blood.

The noise from the surrounding area didn't actually stop.

But at that very moment, the area around the counter fell silent for a beat.

Several seasoned adventurers who were wiping their longswords glanced over subconsciously, their eyes lingering briefly on the red agate before casually looking away.

No one came over.

No one said anything.

In this world, people who can casually produce such things deserve to be treated with more respect by others.

Sieg looked at Leah, his tone remaining calm.

"I don't have any local currency on me."

"Could you please take a look and tell me how many gold coins this stone can be exchanged for?"

Leah took a breath.

She first looked down and examined the red agate closely, then took out a piece of white velvet cloth from under the counter and carefully held the gemstone up.

Professional training helped her quickly suppress her obvious surprise, and her expression became focused and restrained again.

She turned the camera and looked at it for a moment in the light.

"This agate is of very high quality."

"The texture is pure, with almost no impurities inside, and the polishing is also very complete."

She looked up.

"If the guild buys it back, I can offer you a maximum of 150 gold coins."

"Can."

Zieg answered very readily.

"Let's just dispose of it here. Besides the map, I also need a complete set of wilderness survival gear."

Leah nodded in agreement, then turned to get her things.

Her movements were quick and efficient.

Money pouches, maps, and backpacks were placed on the counter one by one, with almost no extra pauses in between.

When she stood up again, a heavy money bag, a rolled-up parchment map, and a bulging canvas backpack were neatly arranged in front of Zieg.

Zig first put away the money bag and the map.

Then, he picked up the backpack with one hand, weighed it briefly, and slung it over his shoulder.

The backpack was quite full, and it felt very heavy when it was placed on my shoulders.

The canvas, belts, water bladders, and metal buckles clattered together, producing a low, muffled sound.

Zieg seemed completely unconcerned about the weight, only slightly adjusting the shoulder strap before turning and walking towards the door.

Sunlight streamed in through the open guild doors.

His figure disappeared into the light and quickly vanished at the end of the bustling street.

Lia stood behind the counter, watching the departing figure, and after a moment, she slowly exhaled.

She looked down at the name that had just been written in the register.

Zig.

He was just a newly registered newbie, a complete beginner.

But for some reason, the moment he pushed open the door and left, she felt a strange, inexplicable feeling—he didn't seem like a young adventurer who had just arrived, but rather someone who had already seen the way and quietly took the first step.