The late afternoon sun bled warm, amber light through the classroom windows, stretching long, ink-black shadows across the rows of desks."Alright, everyone. Your assignments have been sent to your emails," I said, resting my weight against the edge of the podium. "You have exactly three days to complete them. Understood?"I scanned the room, bracing for the usual chorus of quiet groans. Instead, a restless energy hummed through the aisles. The students were practically vibrating in their seats, whispering behind notebooks and sneaking glances at their glowing phones."Any questions? Clarifications? Violent reactions?" I kept my face fixed in a stern, professional mask, though a small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.At the back of the room, a hand shot into the air. It belonged to Erick—a quiet kid who rarely participated in lectures, but whom I recognized instantly. Mostly because I almost always saw him tucked into the corner of the neighborhood VR arcade after school, fully

===================================================[Current Location: Planetary System 1998 — Planet Tantukan]===================================================The heavy, metallic reek of scorched earth and ozone clung to the air as the darkness slowly receded from my vision. I stood at the edge of what used to be the grand municipal amphitheater, now reduced to a jagged skeleton of melted steel and pulverized stone. Rivers of cooling lava still sluggishly snaked through the lower concourses, hissing violently whenever a stray pocket of steam broke the surface, completely obscuring the staging grounds where the tournament finals had once echoed.All around the crater's rim, the surviving residents of Tantukan moved with the quiet, mechanical exhaustion of people running on pure adrenaline. Heavy construction drones hummed overhead, dropping pre-fabricated alloy beams to shore up fractured foundations, while local volunteers salvaged what they could from the rubble.Above them, the

The air inside the underground arena was thick, stale, and choked with the metallic stink of burnt copper wiring, ozone, and virtual sweat.The Pit was built as a massive circular iron cage suspended over an open floor of bubbling, simulated plasma. Hundreds of players, local station thugs, and betting NPCs packed the surrounding tiered galleries—screaming, throwing digital currency chips, and pounding on the metal railings as two teams of heavy gladiators traded brutal, bloody blows on the floor below.Every time an axe struck a shield, the localized audio systems amplified the metallic crunch, bouncing the sound off the low, riveted ceiling.At the edge of the entry corridor sat a scrawny, four-eyed alien NPC with emerald-green skin. A floating mechanical stylus hovered beside his long ear. Sitting behind a reinforced plexiglass desk, he stared indifferently at a holographic ledger."Team name?" the clerk asked, his voice flat and monotonous, refusing to look up from his work."The

The mechanical steward stopped directly in front of our table, the internal locks of its silver transport briefcase disengaging with a soft, pneumatic hiss. The heavy lid opened automatically, revealing the Staff of the Origin resting on black velvet, its smooth white surface glowing with a faint, rhythmically pulsating luminescence. =================================================== [Transaction Complete] [Item Transfer: Staff of the Origin] =================================================== I reached out and wrapped my fingers securely around the staff's grip. The moment my skin touched the cold, polished mineral, a violent jolt of static electricity shot up my arm. My field of vision flickered, blurring out the auction hall completely as a torrent of high-priority red warning windows cascaded across my sight in rapid succession. =================================================== [WARNING: ANOMALOUS SYSTEM HARDWARE DETECTED] [AUTHENTICATING USER NEURAL INDEX...] [NE

The glass canopy of the crimson VR pod unlocked with a soft, pneumatic hiss, releasing a cool stream of synthetic fog that spilled over the edges and dissolved into the warm air of my bedroom. I sat up slowly and swung my legs over the side of the gel mattress. The cool hardwood floor beneath my bare feet served as a solid anchor, grounding me after hours spent floating through spatial folds and vacuum nebulae. Morning light bled through the horizontal blinds, painting faint gray stripes across the floor and furniture. In the quiet dimness of 5:30 AM, the contrast between the high-octane, cosmic chaos of Tooflan Sector 9 and the mundane silence of my small apartment felt almost surreal. In the digital realm of IPN, I was a max-level Macrocosm Mage wielding six-figure mana reserves and cosmic relics capable of warping local reality. Here, I was just a tired high school history teacher staring at a half-empty glass of stale water resting on my nightstand. I rubbed my eyes with the hee