Chapter One: The Protagonist Template?

“Wake up, everyone, we’re almost at the station.”

Ji Cheng’s shoulder was jostled roughly. The train attendant’s shout left him dazed.

Where am I?

Inside the swaying train, Ji Cheng massaged his throbbing head, eyes darting rapidly around him:

A crowded, dim carriage, the air thick with the stench of sweat, and faces tense with anxiety—everything indicated that he was no longer at home.

Did I… transmigrate?

At that moment, fragmented memories surged into his mind.

Damn, did I really transmigrate?

He had left work early on Friday, excited to get home and dive into his favorite game, eager to dominate the virtual world. Yet the moment he climbed into his aging secondhand gaming pod, it exploded.

The next thing he knew, he was here, just as in the scene before.

A flood of memories made Ji Cheng shudder involuntarily.

“Ouch.” The old man next to him grumbled.

“Sorry, sir.” Ji Cheng’s head ached fiercely, his mind tangled in confusion, as if crammed with unfamiliar information.

“No, no, it’s fine.” The old man hastily lowered his head, waving a hand nervously, sneaking glances at Ji Cheng’s eyes with a trace of fear.

The carriage was dim and noisy, yet Ji Cheng caught every nuance of the old man’s face, the hitch in his breath, the quiver of his throat with each word.

Is he… afraid of me?

His head throbbing, Ji Cheng drew a slow breath and began surveying his surroundings once more.

The train rumbled heavily onward. Outside, the world was a dusty yellow; within, the same haze lingered, the air stifling and oppressive.

Are we in a desert?

Where is this train headed?

And why does everyone look so tense?

The atmosphere was palpably off. Passengers’ eyes flicked toward him, some furtive, others more blatant.

Clang.

The train passed over a rail joint, the metallic crash reverberating underfoot.

They seem even more on edge now.

Ji Cheng withdrew his gaze, rubbing his temples as memories oozed into his mind like water from a sponge.

The body’s original owner was also named Ji Cheng, a resident of Baishan Star, now traveling by train to settle in Southport New City; his family had not been assigned to this carriage.

“That kid over there, is he really a gene prototype recipient?” a chubby middle-aged man whispered nearby.

“Yes.” The burly man beside him kept his voice low, mouth barely moving.

Vertical pupils—he was injected with the Lynx prototype. A real hard case.

And as tough as they come.

The fat man’s eyelids twitched. He almost blurted out, “Are you sure? He doesn’t look like someone who could afford a prototype.”

“Definitely! Haven’t you noticed so many people sneaking glances at him?” The burly man angled his body away, voice barely audible. “He’s injected with ‘Gene Prototype: Lynx.’ The vertical pupils are the giveaway.”

“But… people compatible with prototypes are so rare. What are the odds we’d end up on the same train?” The fat man shifted uncomfortably.

“They’re not just rare.” The burly man sounded worried. “Do you know how expensive gene prototypes are? The price goes up every year. Just one injection costs enough to keep a thief like you in business for a lifetime. Don’t even think about his bag—pray he hasn’t noticed us.”

Most people didn’t have prototype compatibility. That meant they weren’t even eligible for the gene injections. And those lucky few who were had to pay a fortune—maybe only one in ten thousand could afford the procedure.

“It’s worth that much?” The fat man swallowed hard. “If he could afford a prototype, doesn’t that mean he’s loaded? His bag is bulging—shouldn’t we at least try?”

“Shut up, you idiot!” the burly man hissed. “Even with thirty of us, we wouldn’t stand a chance. The Lynx is pure combat class.”

Though their voices were hushed, Ji Cheng caught every word.

Gene… prototype! His mind buzzed.

This is the world of Grand Galaxy!

Grand Galaxy was the most popular immersive game before his transmigration, famous for space exploration and interstellar warfare.

Gene prototype technology was a unique feature of the game, granting all sorts of abilities through injections. In the game, every new player got a free shot at registration.

A thousand possibilities flashed through Ji Cheng’s mind in an instant.

Had he entered the game itself, or was this a universe merely similar to Grand Galaxy?

There didn’t seem to be a character panel. Ji Cheng tried calling for a system.

So far, this place felt less like a game and more like a real universe with similar settings.

He steadied himself, reasoning through the situation.

The Lynx… Ji Cheng pondered. The most basic gene prototype, boosting agility, perception, and neural reflexes—a pure combat build.

He never imagined he’d transmigrate into the Grand Galaxy universe, and with the Lynx prototype, no less—his specialty.

Gene Prototype: Lynx. Its combat style relied mainly on firearms and close-quarters fighting. Yet its greatest advantage, little known, was the potential for advanced injections and evolution starting from the Lynx.

The original owner had set him up well.

—Identity verification complete. Template initializing.

—10%, 30%, 50%, 70%, 100%. Worldline correction program loaded.

A deep, majestic voice thundered in his mind.

“What’s happening?” Ji Cheng was dumbfounded.

System, system, show yourself.

“Seems like there’s still no system…”

Then what was this so-called template and worldline correction program?

Could it be the legendary protagonist template?

Ji Cheng’s excitement grew. He had no attachments, and he was long fed up with his mundane life. To be thrown into such a grand, star-spanning universe was already exhilarating.

And now, he might just have the protagonist’s template.

The urgent thing now was to fully absorb the original Ji Cheng’s memories, figure out the timeline, and see what stage of “the plot” he’d landed in. Maybe he could even discover hidden perks on this newbie planet.

“Ji Cheng.”

A cold snort exploded by his ear. Turning, he glimpsed a striking woman standing nearby, her skirt slit daringly high, her gaze fierce and venomous.

Her legs were alabaster, perfectly proportioned, almost dazzling in the carriage’s gloom. The gauzy black dress half-concealed, half-revealed, exuding a sultry allure.

Another wave of memories surged. This woman was Su Yi, a fellow gene prototype recipient and a native of Southport New City, whom Ji Cheng had met in the station’s waiting hall.

Gene prototypes were expensive; those who could afford them were typically affluent. Befriending such people was a good way to build connections. They’d hit it off at first.

But after Su Yi saw Ji Cheng’s sister, she started flirting. The original owner was clearly tough—without a word, he beat her until she spat blood.

“I’ll settle the score with you once we arrive,” Su Yi spat through gritted teeth, yet her feet carried her away swiftly.

She came from a wealthy family, was beautiful, and had been pampered since childhood. Early on, she’d been found compatible with a prototype and received the injection, making her a bona fide heiress—albeit with somewhat unconventional tastes.

Yet for a mere flirtatious comment, she’d been brutally beaten—enough to make her seethe with resentment.

But on this train, she was no match for the combat-class Lynx. In a real fight, there would be nowhere to escape.

She could still recall the looks from bystanders in the waiting hall as she’d been pummeled, bloodied.

The original owner was ruthless—over such a trifle, he’d beaten her senseless. Now, Ji Cheng had to carry the blame.

But what truly baffled him was why a woman would be so interested in another woman.

Ji Cheng leaned back, resting his neck on the seat, ready to dig into the memories in his mind.

“There you are, boss!” A grinning, broad face suddenly appeared before him.

Ji Cheng paused, then laughed, “Fox, what are you doing over here?”

Hu Xian had been his high school classmate, left back seven or eight times, actually older than Ji Cheng, from a wealthy family, and also a gene prototype recipient. He called Ji Cheng boss with genuine sincerity.

Influenced by the memories, Ji Cheng felt as if Hu Xian truly was his old friend.

“It’s Hu Xian, not Fox.” Hu Xian squeezed into a spot, sitting atop the table in front of Ji Cheng. He leaned in, voice dropping, “So, boss, are you really set on this?”

“On what?” Ji Cheng was caught off guard.

“I’m talking about the mining license!” Hu Xian’s voice was muffled beneath the train’s roar.

“Oh, the mining license. I made up my mind long ago.”

As they whispered, Ji Cheng’s recollections grew clearer.

“…You know the situation. My folks never earned much, and they adopted both me and my sister. I can’t let them live like this forever.” Ji Cheng brushed sand off his clothes with a sigh.

The mining license—officially called the Energy Crystal Mining Permit—was granted only after rigorous examinations, authorizing one to work in the mines outside the city.

Propaganda made it a point of pride among the youth; even in school, half the curriculum centered around mining.

But because of strict educational controls, few graduated high school, and only the elite could even attempt the mining license.

Hu Xian, hearing this, leapt from the table, looking regretful.

“You, who never repeated a year and graduated high school before twenty, are going for it already? Isn’t that a waste?”

“What’s there to regret?” Ji Cheng raised an eyebrow.

“I heard every month, supply points haul back truckloads of corpses, mostly in pieces. If you die out there, who’ll be my boss?”

He was genuinely in awe of Ji Cheng—not just a top student but also a master of trickery and fighting. Even putting aside their friendship, he thought Ji Cheng was a genius.

Seeing Hu Xian’s regret, Ji Cheng remained unfazed. “Wait a few years and the mines will still be dangerous.”

“It’s not the same.” Hu Xian tried to persuade him. “With a few more years, you’ll be stronger, better able to handle trouble. Besides—”

Ji Cheng rapped the table gently. “Enough. I know what I’m doing.”

Hu Xian knew Ji Cheng’s temperament—there was no room for negotiation.

Though still regretful, he dared not press the issue, only muttering, “With the mines so dangerous, do Uncle and Aunt approve?”

“I can always sneak into the exam.” Ji Cheng’s parents indeed forbade him from the mining track, even disliking the related courses.

“When I graduate, I’ll take the exam too!” Hu Xian declared, clenching his fists, though his determination lasted mere seconds before he grinned sheepishly, “By the way, boss, that mechanical spinal rig you made last time was amazing. Got any more? My dad took mine.”

“Nope, all gone.” Ji Cheng replied offhandedly.

While they talked, the burly man and his companions were shaking with terror.

They couldn’t hear the conversation, but they’d seen everything. The first person to approach Ji Cheng was a woman whose serpentine hips marked her as a Gene Prototype: Viper. The guy chatting with him now was hulking and pale—surely a rare Polar Bear prototype.

Three. There were actually three gene prototype recipients in this carriage—all apparently acquainted, and the Polar Bear recipient seemed positively deferential.

And they’d once considered targeting this kid?

The burly man and the fat man exchanged glances, cold sweat running down their spines. Thank goodness they hadn’t acted—today, they’d narrowly escaped with their lives.

Attention, passengers. We will shortly be arriving at Southport New City. Please collect your belongings and prepare to disembark. We will reach the station in ten minutes.

The announcement sounded. Ji Cheng turned to the window. Beyond the dusty glass, he could just make out the distant city.

What’s that? The horizon in the distance seemed to ripple.

The earth was trembling.

He saw it in the shuddering, yellow-gray shrubs across the wasteland.

Screech—

The train wheels shrieked against the rails. In less than ten seconds, the speeding train screeched to a halt.

The sudden inertia flung the crowded passengers together in a heap, luggage raining down on their heads, but no one made a sound. All eyes fixed on the distant scene, lips pressed tight.

Hu Xian gripped a trembling rail, barely steadying himself, glancing sideways at Ji Cheng.

Ji Cheng stood unmoved, not a fold of his clothing disturbed, as if untouched by the chaos.

Lynx, indeed—the agility and balance were enviable. Hu Xian could only admire him.

On Baishan Star, at the first gene prototype injection, you couldn’t choose; only after injection would you know your type.

It was all luck—what you got was what fate gave you.

“What’s that?” Ji Cheng stared at the cracked earth, uncertain.

“The Chalk Sand Worm. Didn’t you read the guide before coming?” Hu Xian whispered. “It’s the overlord of these wastelands, living underground. Eight years ago, when New City was just built, it popped up out of nowhere. They tried to exterminate it, but several top-tier fighters ended up as its lunch.”

“Fortunately, it only responds to loud noises, so the authorities gave up and installed soundproofing in the city. But trains still have to be careful—if there’s any sign of the worm, they stop immediately.”

Ji Cheng nodded silently.

Boom!

The entire train began to shake violently. The windows burst open without a sound, sand-laden wind scouring like a rasp. Everyone stared at the ground outside:

The cracked earth swelled, then caved in. Bushes tore loose, stone flows twisted and surged, forming a massive vortex, whirling faster and faster, dust billowing for miles.

“It’s coming.” Hu Xian’s voice was barely a whisper.

“What a terrifying sandstorm.” Ji Cheng had barely spoken before his mouth filled with grit.

“Silence!” a sharp hiss cut through the carriage.

Thunderous crashes erupted. Air blasted through, dust dissipated, and in the distance, a mountain of writhing flesh appeared—like an enormous, breathing worm, rising and falling.

Even from afar, the bulging mass radiated evil and madness.

A deathly hush fell over the carriage, not even a breath disturbing the silence.

Is that a mouth? That worm is monstrous.

Ji Cheng eyed the dozens of circles of razor teeth—like a biological pulverizer. The whole train could fit inside and still not fill its maw.

No, something’s off.

He began to observe its features rapidly:

Colossal size, stretching perhaps 800 to 1,000 meters; no skin, exposed muscle fibers; segmented body, triple-pronged jaws with spiraling teeth.

Strange—on a starter planet like Baishan Star, a unique boss like this Chalk Sand Worm would have been posted everywhere by early players.

Yet as a seasoned Grand Galaxy player, he’d never seen such a creature.

Unless—

This wasn’t a starting planet from the game.

“It’s gone,” Hu Xian said, relaxing.

The Chalk Sand Worm appeared for only a few minutes before vanishing into the desert, leaving a gaping chasm behind—a reminder of the wasteland’s true master.

“Scared me half to death; it’s finally gone.”

“Mama, I’m scared… mmph.”

“Hush, darling, keep your voice down.”

A murmur of conversation slowly returned, the packed aisles buzzing in hushed tones.

Hu Xian looked at Ji Cheng as if having survived a calamity—just as Ji Cheng’s cold, vertical pupils turned to meet his gaze.

Hu Xian was in awe—his boss, so fierce and unruly on a normal day, remained utterly unflappable in the face of such a monster.

Ji Cheng wiped the sweat from his palm, feigning indifference. “That worm looks a bit like, you know…”

“Like what?” Hu Xian blinked.

“A fleshlight.”

“A real prodigy!”

Ten minutes later, the station’s horn sounded—two short, one long. At last, the sand-dusted train pulled into the platform.

Ji Cheng stepped onto the platform, the city spread out beyond: blocks of buildings, orderly streets, and a surging tide of people.

Here was Southport New City—the place where a new life was about to begin.