Chapter 4

“Ugh.”

Clutching my throbbing head, I rise. The cold knowledge of fishing piercing into my brain felt downright unpleasant—like someone was scrambling my thoughts. Or rather, it was invigorating but with a tinge of headache, much like cramming for an exam.

But one thing was certain: the satisfaction of growth was undeniable. Even though I’m only at Level 5 Beginner, I can confidently say that I’ve become pretty decent at fishing. They do call it “the peak of ignorance,” after all. Maybe I’m perched right there on that summit.

The gap between skill levels—Beginner, Intermediate, Advanced, Master—is vast. Even in games where leveling up skills feels smooth, climbing halfway to Intermediate in just one day is no small feat. Sure, as levels increase, so does the required experience, but hitting even half the bar feels reassuringly solid.

I gulp down a cup of cold water to clear my mind. Today, too, I need to fish. It’s necessary.

Even if the activity is enjoyable, dedicating tens of hours to anything is exhausting. The thought of treating this like work already sends shivers down my spine. No matter how good you get at something, the sheer length of time involved creates pressure.

But I can’t quit after just three days, so I sit at the table. Why does this body feel so damn energetic?

Normally, I’d rush outside immediately, but today I plan to jot down some rough notes for future plans. The chaotic scribbles from last night’s brainstorming session clearly show how disorganized they were. Half-dreamt ideas scrawled in black ink.

“Hmm.”

Lost in thought, a natural sigh echoes through the small room. Starwind Valley prioritizes farming over everything else when viewed from an efficiency standpoint.

Of course, this game offers high freedom, so doing whatever you want doesn’t really matter. There’s no strict time limit either. However, my situation is slightly different—I have a clear goal: returning home.

Battle, exploration, wandering ruins meeting people. A mage delving into magic and research. Or maybe a dark sorcerer mastering necromancy to squeeze every ounce of labor out of undead workers.

Faint memories resurface. Though those aren’t all the options available, I aimed for the life of a kimchi farm owner, targeting the path of becoming a grand agricultural tycoon. While I never managed to master such dark magic, automation farms don’t rely solely on that anyway.

I’m not someone who has poured their entire life into this game. Following the same route I once took would be the best choice since it led me to success before—an ending marked with triumph.

That gives me enough direction. Just yesterday’s frenzied fishing proves it. Gather money, buy seeds, and quickly level up farming techniques. That’s my style.

Money is needed for anything, after all. And gaining skill levels during the process? Perfect sequence.

“Should I unlock the UI first or prioritize buying seeds to start farming sooner?”

In the mod menu, the cheapest UI costs 500 gold. Assuming my fishing skills keep improving and I earn more money daily, I’m confident I’ll hit that mark within 3-4 days. Once I reach Intermediate, catching premium fish and treasure boxes will naturally multiply my earnings by 2-3 times.

Unlocking the UI grants significant advantages—it lets me instantly confirm information. Right now, I don’t even know what kind of rod I’m using or the prices/types of fish I catch. I’m completely ignorant about what’s possible.

For example, if I gather grass in the yard, the UI could reveal crafting recipes or resource paths derived from it. Without it, I’m lost.

So, priority: Unlock the UI. Alternatively, focus on rolling the farming snowball quickly. These are the two things I’m debating.

“The UI seems better…”

You need knowledge to manage crops effectively. To calculate optimal efficiency and cost-effectiveness per crop, you need data. Yeah, let’s set a small goal: gather 500 gold and unlock the UI.

With determination, I step outside. Before me lies a tiny vegetable patch.

“Oh.”

The gap between reality and games. That ambiguous difference.

Even though I’ve never farmed in real life, I understand that crops growing in four days isn’t normal. In that sense, parsley, sugar carrots are amazing. All 20 seeds sprout perfectly, showing vibrant green stems bursting with life. It’s enough to elicit mild admiration.

Day three today. Tomorrow, they’ll be ready for harvest—a fact that feels strange considering I barely remember the price of these crops.

Estimating roughly while walking briskly toward the forest above the village…

Today, I plan to fish at the lake near the woods instead of the beach. Different types of fish appear depending on location, and I recall rare fish in the forest giving substantial experience points. The problem is, I don’t know what those rare fish look like.

“Let’s see… bait is sufficient, food is bought, rod is packed, water is ready…”

Entering the forest filled with fresh scents. The damp soil underfoot, lush greenery everywhere, and faint morning dew glistening on leaves.

The cool early-morning air feels refreshing—a nice break from urban living. Though spending hours sitting still might change my perspective later, for now, it’s a pleasant stroll through scenic nature.

“Why am I chewing on something again?”

Pong!

Dropping my line, I mutter softly. Whatever Maxim uncle chews on might help alleviate boredom.

“What should I do?”

Fishing isn’t hard. Is it because the rod requires little stamina? Or perhaps the fish are easy to catch, minimizing fatigue?

However, the waiting time feels empty and aimless—a stark contrast between games and reality.

Suddenly, the rod tips forward. Reeling it in with force sends a thrilling sensation through my body. The tension in the rod signals a striped fish, which I toss carelessly into my bag. No point identifying it since I wouldn’t know its name or value anyway. Catching as many as possible is key.

“It’s gotten easier.”

Sitting comfortably on a rock, I nod approvingly. This must be how skill memory works. Learning something new and advancing so quickly makes me feel almost genius-like.

The rod silently gazes at the tranquil forest lake. Ready to react instantly if anything moves.

Which is why I picked up an axe. Experience points never hurt. Doing anything helps.

While fishing, I decided to spend leftover time chopping wood or mining for extra experience. Isn’t this one of the advantages of real life? Multitasking while fishing—something impossible in games.

Surrounded by trees and rocks aplenty, nobody notices minor resource gathering in an unowned forest. As long as I maintain a few prime fishing spots guided by intuition, the location doesn’t matter.

This instinct likely comes from accumulated experience.

“Huff.”

A sigh escapes involuntarily due to tension. Searching for thin trees, my gaze alternates between the rod and the axe.

Prioritizing earning money means I can’t afford to miss any fish.

Thud… Thud…

After a bit of practice, wielding the axe becomes smoother and more efficient. Starting too forcefully harms consistency, so maintaining a steady rhythm works best.

Gratitude wells up anew for this influx of knowledge and experience. Never thought I’d ever step foot on Earth, yet here I am learning practical skills.

Splish-splash…

The subtle sound redirects my attention. Seeing the rod twitch, I hastily stab the axe into the ground and dash toward it. Swinging upward with tense muscles, the rod pulls sharply, bringing up an unknown yellow fish. Into the bag it goes.

The rod resumes its graceful position over the water. Back to the tree with a freshly carved notch.

What’s great is the shade provided. Unless sea fish prices drastically differ, I’ll probably stick to this spot moving forward. Who wouldn’t prefer working under cool breezes in the shade?

Click…

“Ow!”

My clumsiness reveals itself here. The axe misses its mark, sending vibrations painfully through my hand. The sound differs distinctly—”Thud” versus “Click.”

Shaking off the numbness, I repeat opening and closing my hand. Honestly, this doesn’t feel remotely relaxing anymore.

*

Why didn’t I realize the darkness of the forest differs from that of the beach?

Well, how could I know without experiencing it?

“Hah.”

Things went well overall. Logging wasn’t bad, mining was decent, and I caught roughly thirty more fish than yesterday. With a total harvest of 155 fish, I confidently headed home…

Until I realized…

Where exactly is home?

The forest’s darkness is colder than expected. Unlike the beach where distant lights from the village offer comfort, the forest provides none. Crickets chirp eerily, night breezes carry a chill, and swaying trees cast ominous shadows.

It’s not just dark; everything looks the same.

Modern society underestimated the darkness. Perhaps this is my defeat.

“Maybe I should prepare a lantern or compass next time…”

Does this world even have compasses?

An old saying popped into mind: “If lost in the woods, stay put.” But with no one to rescue me and wasting time sitting still being impractical, I have no choice but to retrace my steps relying on vague senses.

Crunch…

Every sound sharpens my awareness. Blindness amplifies other senses, apparently true.

Crunch… Crunch…

When those footsteps aren’t mine, hearing them sends my ears tingling anxiously.

“Is anyone there?”

The voice responds melodiously from afar. Relief washes over me knowing it’s human—not wildlife or monsters.

Still, hesitation lingers about replying.

“I’m new here.”

Mentioning “Minho” outright feels awkward.

“Ahh. You’re the one Anne visited recently.”

Footsteps draw closer. I move cautiously toward the sound. Rustling leaves and faint cricket noises fill the silence meaningfully.

She stops in front of me and flips her lantern on. The sudden brightness forces me to squint.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Evangelin.”

“Ah. Hello. I’m Minho.”

“Yes, I know. Now I understand why Anne went looking for you.”

Evangelin tilts her head slightly left, studying my face closely before smiling gently. Her orange hair reflects the lantern’s crimson glow, making it seem especially fitting.

“Um?”

“No, nothing. What were you doing out here so late? This area isn’t heavily trafficked.”

“Uh… I got lost.”

Embarrassment prompts me to scratch my head. She steps closer, handing me the lantern. Warmth transfers briefly through our touch.

“Here, take it. I’m familiar with this area since I enjoy nighttime walks.”

“Uh… Thank you. I’ll return it tomorrow morning.”

“No need. If you occasionally join me for these walks, that’s payment enough. I have another one at home.”

Her tone remains calm and gentle. The soft smile illuminated by dim light leaves a lasting impression. Something serene about her voice convinces me effortlessly, making refusal undesirable.

“Alright,” I reply briefly, nodding.

“Just follow this path straight ahead. Stick to the lit ground shown by the lantern.”

“Thank you.”

“Not at all. Helping each other is always good.”

Her steady, monotone voice soothes the restlessness brought by nightfall.

Evangelin waves goodbye with a smile. I reciprocate the gesture.

Her disappearing orange hair lingers vividly in my mind.

Seems I’ve gained another benefactor unexpectedly. Are villagers generally this kindhearted? While I knew theoretically from the game, actually experiencing kindness reassures me deeply.

This relief mixes with exhaustion, intensifying fatigue. Despite receiving the lantern, sleeping on the road isn’t acceptable, so I trudge home despite heavy legs.

As usual, all I remember afterward is the soft embrace of my bed.

*