Chapter One: Returning to the Past

“Hey, hey, have you pre-ordered ‘Arthur’ yet?”

“Of course! I did it half a year ago, come on.”

“They say the game boasts full AI management and players can direct the world’s course—people are calling it the most freeform game ever made.”

“I watched the trailer’s simulation footage and that VR looked insanely realistic.”

“Isn’t it supposed to allow over four hours of in-game time during sleep? The record before was just three.”

“Once it’s online tonight, you all need to carry me, alright, legends?”

Zhao Xu stared blankly at his college classmates, who were engrossed in their lively discussion.

These youthful faces before him belonged to memories already ten years old. This scene felt hauntingly familiar.

His heart tightened, and countless memories scattered through his mind like drifting snow.

Ten years ago, it was on this very day that ‘Arthur’ opened its servers.

No one noticed that, quietly and without warning, a new era was dawning—the true beginning of a grand age.

One year after ‘Arthur’ launched, on its first anniversary, Earth was suddenly struck by a cataclysmic meteor shower that reduced all life to ash.

Yet humanity discovered, to their astonishment, that after the meteor shower, they had crossed over into the world of Arthur.

Former players of Arthur inherited everything they had possessed in the game.

The top players became the new elite among earth’s survivors, and the old order was upended overnight.

In his previous life, Zhao Xu hadn’t paid much attention to the game. It wasn’t until nearly eight months after launch that a classmate dragged him into it to fill the numbers in their guild.

Even then, his activity was sporadic, logging in now and then. By the time of the world’s crossing, he’d just leveled up from one to two.

Meanwhile, those who had joined at launch were already averaging level five, and the top-tier players had even surpassed level ten.

Zhao Xu, late to the game, had reached only level two.

But among the world’s six or seven billion people, those who had played the game ahead of time were the fortunate few who naturally ascended to the upper echelons of power.

In Arthur, with his profession level and the support of his classmates, Zhao Xu quickly managed to provide a decent life for his family.

But fortune deserted him in the years that followed.

Three years after the crossing, the small town he guarded was attacked by a sudden black dragon. Over a hundred were killed or wounded, and his entire family perished in that catastrophe, including his newlywed wife.

From that moment, Zhao Xu’s life lost all color.

He had only escaped because he’d just been conscripted by the lord for a campaign, but he was left with the chains of vengeance.

For the next six years, every moment was devoted to revenge.

Tracing his memories to their bitter end, Zhao Xu joined a party to hunt the black dragon.

But before they even reached the dragon’s lair, their team was ambushed.

The last thing Zhao Xu remembered was the dragon’s breath surging toward him.

With death’s regret, he was reborn—back in this classroom, ten years ago.

He had returned to the moment before the game’s launch.

No one in the world, not even the game’s developers, knew—except Zhao Xu himself—that Arthur was actually a real, parallel world.

After the crossing, countless people would lament why they hadn’t played the game when they had the chance.

Even employees of the game company who hadn’t played in their spare time would be no better off than any other layman a year later.

Zhao Xu took a deep breath and snapped back to reality, immediately taking out his phone to log into TC’s game store and pre-order the game in advance.

‘Arthur’ was a paid pre-order game—and not a cheap one at that.

But no matter how popular it became after launch, there were no additional paid items.

Looking at the store’s pre-order packages, Zhao Xu’s gaze focused.

Arthur Standard Edition, 299 RMB.

Arthur Deluxe Edition, 599 RMB.

The Standard Edition was self-explanatory—the majority of players chose it.

The Deluxe Edition, however, included an extra set of clothing—a three-hundred-yuan skin, with no effect on combat ability.

But Zhao Xu’s attention wasn’t on that. With Earth set to be destroyed in a year, and all wealth turning to dust, spending three hundred more for an outfit in another world was a stroke of luck only a fool would pass up.

Without hesitation, Zhao Xu tapped into the Deluxe Edition’s pre-order page.

Just as he was about to complete the iris verification for payment, he froze.

He suddenly recalled something.

Years later, he’d once met a high-level player who, with obvious envy, had told him of a legend.

The game had a “Dual Elite” system—dual-class.

A dual-class player could have two parallel, non-stacking profession paths.

A typical player might be a level-3 warrior and a level-7 mage, making them a level-10 character.

But a dual-class player, upon reaching level ten, could have one path as a level-10 mage and another as a level-10 cleric.

Essentially, they remained a level-10 character, with the health, attack power, specialties, and saving throws of that level—but could access both professions’ abilities.

This extra profession made them stand out among players.

According to the high-level player, dual-classing was a system to be fully released in later updates, meant to lure players back after a version upgrade.

At launch, only a very limited number of accounts were granted dual-class status for testing purposes—to balance and fine-tune the system.

The greatest perk of these test accounts was free game access.

The trade-off was that after one year, the account would be reclaimed.

This was to avoid unfairness—after all, no one would mind a powerful account if it was only temporary.

Many testers, seeing the game’s growing popularity, abandoned their time-limited accounts in favor of purchasing permanent ones.

Yet no one knew that before the accounts could be reclaimed, the world crossing would occur, and the reclaimed characters would become real people—beyond the company’s reach.

A one-year limit became permanent.

These accounts became the rarest of privileged profiles in Arthur’s world.

Very few test account holders survived into the later stages.

But as long as they lived into the reality of Arthur, every one of them became a force to be reckoned with.

With this in mind, Zhao Xu stood up abruptly and strode toward the classroom door—if he waited for the bell, he’d be stuck.

“Hey, Xu, Professor Huang said he’d be taking attendance in Marxism class! Aren’t you worried?” his roommate Zhang Qi called after him.

Zhao Xu didn’t even grab his textbook, just waved and said, “Got something I need to do.”

He was gone before he finished speaking, passing by the trickle of students arriving for class.

After stepping out, Zhao Xu found a bench near a flower bed, pulled out his phone, and called TC’s customer service to inquire about the dual-class test accounts.

He’d barely started probing when the polite, formulaic response came: distribution had ended half a month earlier, and all participants were invitees. There was no plan to open this test to the public anytime soon.

In other words, no luck—don’t even think about it.

It made sense—the dual-class test account, even just as a free trial, was stronger than a normal account.

If it were open to all, everyone would try it, and even the standard two-hour refund policy wouldn’t mean much.

This answer made Zhao Xu frown.

He knew he wasn’t a top-tier player.

He’d only joined the game eight months after launch, and even though there were guides and people to help him, he’d only managed to reach level two after four months.

This first in-game year was the most precious.

After entering the real Arthur, everyone’s leveling slowed down dramatically.

A year was worth a decade.

Driven by revenge, Zhao Xu had barely scraped to level five, risking his life and sacrificing his lifespan. Otherwise, he’d likely have been just level three or four after ten years.

Without the dual-class account, even with a decade’s experience, he’d only just be in the leading group—not enough to survive another encounter with the black dragon.

He needed enough levels to protect his family.

Calming himself, Zhao Xu opened the XFish platform.

On XFish, people could sell used items, services, and even new products—sometimes even post wanted ads.

Zhao Xu posted a request to purchase a one-year dual-class test account for Arthur.

When it came to price, he ignored the usual “negotiable” and put 599—the cost of a permanent Deluxe Edition, offering a year-long test account in exchange for a permanent one, the only difference being the lack of dual-class features.

There were other kinds of test accounts, but only the dual-class account lasted a full year—so he specified it in his ad.

As expected, with his decent credit score, he immediately received private messages.

“Want a six-month test account for a strong race?”

Zhao Xu knew about strong races—they were late-game content that could give players abilities equal to four or five levels, helping newcomers catch up.

But a half-year account was useless. The duration was calculated from server launch, not from activation. Otherwise, he could give it to a friend.

After refusing, several more messages came in, including offers for 24-hour test accounts for ten yuan, which Zhao Xu ignored.

“Hey, want a six-month dual-class test account? I’ll let it go for 299.”

He clicked on one—delighted at first, then disappointed. There were half-year dual-class accounts as well.

“This is a great deal. Only long-time players get these invitation accounts. Six months is actually pretty long; most are only three.”

Though Zhao Xu didn’t want it, he patiently chatted to glean information.

The seller was offering 299 because the dual-class advantage only became apparent later on. The shorter the account, the less it mattered.

If it lasted three or four years—covering a game’s entire lifecycle—some big guilds would pay tens of thousands for one.

After some back-and-forth, it was clear the seller wasn’t interested if Zhao Xu didn’t buy.

So, by evening—just half an hour before the 8 p.m. launch—Zhao Xu still hadn’t found a one-year dual-class test account.

From what he’d learned, these accounts were even rarer than he’d anticipated.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed—a new private message on XFish.

“I have a one-year dual-class test account, and it’s bundled with the Potential Point test.”

Potential Points?

Zhao Xu paused. He hadn’t heard of that feature, but it didn’t matter—dual-class was what counted.

Reading between the lines, the seller was hinting at a higher price.

Whatever the cost, Zhao Xu would buy it—even if it was tens of thousands he’d convince his parents to lend him the money. This wasn’t just a game account, it was a lifeline.

“How much?” Zhao Xu didn’t make the first offer.

“One thousand,” the seller replied—double Zhao Xu’s price.

“That’s too much,” Zhao Xu typed back.

Even though joy surged within him, he haggled anyway. Agreeing too quickly would only make the seller suspicious.

He bargained, careful not to push too hard and scare the seller away.

In the end, they settled at 800, a process more exhausting than filling out several advanced math exams.

Once they agreed, the seller posted the item under Zhao Xu’s title, and Zhao Xu immediately paid.

Everything went smoothly.

As he received the activation code—a simple string of numbers—Zhao Xu, though mentally over thirty years old, could not contain his excitement.

This code was his future.