Earth.
Zhao Xiaotian took off the VR helmet, threw on a jacket, and rushed out the door. He jumped into the sports car parked in his garage and slammed on the gas.
He couldn't wait to test his theory.
Half an hour later.
Zhao Xiaotian's car screeched to a halt in front of the ancestral mansion. Tossing the keys to the valet, the young heir sprinted inside.
Huff... Huff...
Standing in front of a familiar room, Zhao Xiaotian took a deep breath to steady his racing heart, then pushed the door open and walked in.
Ever since his third uncle, Zhao Zhengxiong, lost his legs in that accident, Zhao Xiaotian was the only person besides his grandfather who could enter this room without knocking.
"Is that you, Xiaotian?"
The man who greeted him was barely over thirty, yet he looked more haggard than Zhao Xiaotian's father. His beard was unkempt, his eyes dull.
Empty liquor bottles littered the floor. The room was a mess. Usually, seeing this scene made Zhao Xiaotian's heart ache.
But today, at this very moment, Zhao Xiaotian smiled.
"Uncle... do you want your legs back?"
---
The stench of alcohol on Zhao Zhengxiong seemed to fade as the fog in his eyes cleared for the first time in years. If this were two years ago, he would have laughed at Zhao Xiaotian's talk of a "holographic game."
But right now, staring at the crude game website on the laptop screen, Zhao Zhengxiong saw only one thing: a rope lowering into the abyss to pull him back into the light.
"Xiaotian, this game you're talking about... can it really make me stand up again?" Zhao Zhengxiong, sitting in his wheelchair, looked back at his nephew. His face was red—whether from the alcohol or excitement, it was hard to tell.
"Uncle, just wait for the helmet to arrive. Once you enter the game, you'll understand everything." Zhao Xiaotian typed away on the keyboard, helping his uncle register all his information on the website, and answered with absolute confidence.
The most torturous thing in the world is waiting for the dawn.
Zhao Zhengxiong stared blankly at the maid cleaning the room. His soul, guided by Zhao Xiaotian's description, had already flown to that other world in his imagination.
Swish.
Zhao Xiaotian pulled open the heavy curtains. Sunlight flooded the room, blinding Zhao Zhengxiong, who had been living like a vampire in the dark.
"Young Master, a package has arrived..."
Buzz.
For a moment, Zhao Zhengxiong felt like he had gone deaf. He couldn't hear anything from the outside world. squinting his red, irritated eyes against the light, he watched blurrily as Zhao Xiaotian took the package and slowly walked towards him.
---
"Hmm? Looks like we have another new player."
Noticing the change in the registration count on the website, Viserys murmured softly to himself.
Daenerys, who was quietly reading a book nearby, glanced at him. Her brother was speaking nonsense again.
Is Viserys's madness getting worse?
Noticing Daenerys looking at him with the eyes one uses for a mental patient, Viserys leaned across the table and flicked her on the forehead.
Thwack.
Daenerys flinched, thinking he was about to "Wake the Dragon," and quickly lowered her head.
But the beating never came. It seemed she still wasn't used to the days where Viserys didn't hit her.
When she looked up again, Viserys was already standing by the window, gazing silently outside, lost in thought.
Thinking about the Restoration again, Daenerys thought. What else does Viserys care about?
Pentos is a good place.
Viserys thought to himself. His army of players wouldn't stay at a dozen people forever. Soon, the numbers would explode.
Playing nice with Illyrio was only temporary. From the day he successfully scammed five players into joining, Viserys had awakened a "Zerg Rush System."
He no longer needed to sell his sister to get an army.
Thinking about the original plot, Viserys smiled self-deprecatingly.
If he were still the original Viserys, once he had an army, he probably would have done exactly what that fat Illyrio wanted: cross the Narrow Sea and charge straight into a suicidal war with that other fat man, Robert Baratheon.
But obviously, the soul currently inhabiting Viserys's body wasn't going to do that. Knowing the plot, he could simply lead his legion of gamers to conquer territory in Essos first.
Then, he would sit back and watch the War of the Five Kings unfold before sweeping back into Westeros to clean up the mess.
Unite the Lords, Restore House Targaryen.
The first step of the Restoration starts right here in Pentos, Viserys decided.
When the Pentoshi City Watch is crushed by a sudden legion from within the city walls... he wondered what expression Illyrio—who fantasized about using Viserys as bait—would make.
And when he led a massive army to sweep through the Free Cities, how would the Spider across the Narrow Sea react?
Thinking of the conspiracy between the Spider and Illyrio, Viserys resolved to figure out the true identity of "Young Griff"—Aegon.
He wasn't just here to enjoy the good life at Illyrio's expense while waiting for his player count to snowball.
Before Viserys transmigrated, the most popular fan theory was that "Young Griff" was a Blackfyre pretender—a bastard concocted by Illyrio and the Golden Company.
Finding him and killing him to eliminate future trouble was a priority. Viserys knew it would be difficult.
But he had players. As the saying goes: Three stooges are better than one mastermind. A group of chaotic gamers would surely be able to sniff out Young Griff eventually.
Unless Illyrio was smart enough to keep the most important piece of his plan far away from himself.
If that was the case, Viserys couldn't do much about it. He would just have to wait until his gamer legion was strong enough to knife Illyrio, and then wait for Young Griff to smash his head against the wall of respawning players.
Viserys withdrew his gaze and looked at the silver-haired girl bathed in sunlight. Speaking of which... when magic returns to the world, should I catch a Dothraki Khal and bleed him to see if those three dragon eggs will hatch?
Whatever. The System Shop sells live dragon eggs. If the players grind hard enough, I'll be able to afford one sooner or later. Even if the fossils don't hatch, it just means my collection will be incomplete.
While Viserys was plotting against Illyrio, the Magister was in his own room, holding a woman with pale golden hair, discussing his King.
"I heard he has gathered a group of loyal followers?" the woman asked softly, burying her head in the Magister's chest, which was even softer than hers.
"Mhm. Worth noting, but not a threat. No matter how many loyalists he gathers, he's just going to crash them against the Lords across the Narrow Sea."
The woman seemed deeply trusted, enough for Illyrio to reveal his hidden schemes.
"Will he go?" the woman asked.
"Of course. Once his sister bleeds, our King will have an army of horse-lords. He will lead those savages across the sea to trouble the Lords of Westeros."
"And we... we only need to wait until they have destroyed each other. Then we will be the final victors."
"There is only one True Dragon, and that is our son... Serra..."
Illyrio kissed the woman, his voice dropping to a whisper.