Chapter 3: A World Too Real

  Jin blinked as the loading haze lifted. The void peeled away like mist, revealing a street bathed in amber twilight. Towering buildings lined the horizon—gss and chrome scraping the artificial sky. A crowd flowed past him, too real to be just data.

  He staggered a step forward.

  His feet hit solid pavement. Not the illusion of ground—but texture. A roughness, a faint vibration. The dull thrum of nearby machinery. The faint echo of footsteps on concrete—as if this world had weight.

  “Holy…” His voice was breathless.

  No HUD. No tutorials. No hand-holding menus.

  Only the CHEAT MODULE.

  LOC: SECTOR 7 – NEW DAWN DISTRICT

  STATUS: UNREGISTERED USER

  SYSTEM INTERFACE: DISABLED (Manual Input Only)

  WARNING: No Civilian ID Registered – Subject to Surveilnce

  The data appeared on a small, flickering panel only he could see—glitching like a monitor left on too long, grainy and imperfect.

  Jin turned slowly, absorbing the chaos around him. Vendors shouted in accented voices, hawking digital fruits, tech impnts, or enhancement deals. A girl dashed past him in synthetic armor, ughing as a floating drone trailed behind her.

  But these weren’t avatars. Not in the way he’d thought. They were… different.

  They didn’t talk like pyers. No jokes. No random dances. Their faces were tired. Focused. Business-like.

  “Is this really a game?” he whispered, half to himself, half to the universe.

  He stepped aside just as a man in a worn coat brushed past him, muttering something under his breath. The scent of engine oil and burning rubber clung to the air, a sharp contrast to the sterile digital quality he had expected.

  He wasn’t dreaming.

  The CHEAT MODULE chimed.

  ENVIRONMENT: STABILIZED

  NEURAL SYNC: 92%

  Observation: Target unregistered.

  Recommendation: Find Identity Anchor

  “What the hell is an Identity Anchor?” Jin murmured.

  The system didn’t respond. It never did, only offering vague hints or recommendations—cryptic directions.

  A flicker caught his eye.

  Across the street, down an alley lit by a single flickering sign, stood a man in an old-style trench coat. Still. Watching.

  Jin’s instincts fred. He wasn’t alone.

  He moved.

  Down the alley, footsteps quiet. Trash bags. Broken crates. The scent of metal, the grime of a city that had lived. It was all too real. Too deliberate.

  Then the man spoke.

  “You activated something you don’t understand.”

  His voice was raspy. A voice Jin recognized.

  “From the shop,” Jin said quietly. “You gave me the headset.”

  “I didn’t give it,” the man corrected, his words sharp. “I left it. You picked it.”

  The CHEAT MODULE scanned him. Bnk. No data. No markers. No name. Not even a heat signature.

  “I don’t understand what this pce is,” Jin admitted. “It’s not a game, is it?”

  The man didn’t answer, only handed Jin a chipped silver coin. Old. Engraved with a symbol Jin didn’t recognize. The weight in his hand felt real. Too real.

  “That’s your anchor,” the man said, his eyes lingering on Jin’s. “You’ll need it soon.”

  “Wait—what’s it for? Why me?” Jin asked, but the man was already walking away. His voice trailed.

  “You’re already part of it now. The system chose you. Or maybe… you chose it.”

  Then, like a glitch, he was gone—fading into static, his figure vanishing into nothingness.

  Jin stared down at the coin. The symbol pulsed faintly in his palm.

  ITEM ACQUIRED: [???] Identity Anchor (Locked)

  Conditions Unknown

  Side Thread: [He Who Watches] – Initiated

  The CHEAT MODULE chimed again, more urgently this time.

  Multiple Watchers Detected

  Access Level: Exposed

  Cloaking Required – Initiating Passive Scramble Protocol

  The street outside had changed.

  People moved faster now. Less life. More tension. A strange chill hung in the air.

  Jin tucked the coin into his jacket, took a deep breath, and stepped back into the city.

  Whatever this pce was, he was in it now.

  And it was alive.