A/N: A reader approached me with the following words through Email and I felt compelled to share the message:

Mr. 69EpicCirno69,

Yuo r teh GREYTEST writher EVAHR!1 I luv ur FICS they're COOL and u write kool and edgy and funy stuff and I luv ut. thanks

i AM 12yers old and like teh saem muisc as u. Slipknot 4ever IF IM 555 URE 666 YEAH Metal \m/

But i was tinking abut the new fic, and u sed it was gunna be cool power insert in mondstadt and do funny and hot publick sex with Lisa and Jean and Eula and Amber and Hilichurl man? When is it happen?

Singned,

xX_EulaSquirts4Lawachurl69_Xx

This concerned me greatly, for I believe he failed to grasp the subtle irony in the previous chapter's author's note.

The previous chapter's title is a reference to this song: /watch?v=_OHbBFZRcAw

Be sure to listen to it, for it is good music that nourishes the soul and inspires my work.


Hello everyone, welcome back to this shit I call my life. My name is Kelly Summers, age 25, born and bred in Charleston, South Carolina. I'm mostly known for my role as founder, guitarist and former drummer of the super cool and world-famous death metal band Festering Wound (currently on tour across the best venues in the US!). I was also the guy who people called gay in middle-school because I have long hair and a girly name. That stopped once I hit my growth spurt. The curious effects of growing to 6'4 and not being as thin as a stick!
My hobbies are playing guitar and drums, drinking and fucking. I also like playing videogames. I haven't done a lot of the last three lately. Life gets in the way sometimes. My father is being eaten alive by this thing called dementia and the whore that spawned me abandoned us and took our money to go get fake tits in Miami and fuck some Mexican or Cuban or whatever the fuck that piece of Spanish speaking, gold-digging douchebag is. But I digress! You see, something really stupid happened two weeks ago! I had just finished playing a very important, very emotional show, my last one with the band I birthed. The day was going alright, despite all the difficult feelings, and I was just about ready to leave my old life and dream behind! I'd spent quite a bit of time preparing myself for that moment, and had decided to invest in my education while I still could. Get a Master's in Math back at Charleston Uni, hopefully snag a real and stable job, finally settle down with some cute girl and make a family. You know, just... copying Dad. He is a great man. Or was. Fuck. If God is real (and trust me, I believe in Him more and more with each passing second) He is also a real meanie. A big ol' bag of dicks. He went above and beyond with the whole "leave my life behind" thing.

Are You listening? Whoever the fuck it is You are? Writing my life's course? Yeah, FUCK YOU. I never asked for this.

You might be wondering, why are you telling us all this? Is it gonna be important? Are you ok?
My answer to those questions, my dear friend is: "because I want to, fuck you", "probably not" and "no, no I'm not".

Back to the present.

So, here I am, cold, bruised and naked inside a tight uncomfortable wooden cage being hauled through the plains of what I assume to be some kind of fantasy China by a horde of disgusting slimebags.

I am, unfortunately, not the only captive these pieces of shit are keeping. My cage is the last of the four in the convoy, the other three containing two women and a burly dude who I learned over the past days of travel are mother, daughter and son. They don't talk or cry, at least not anymore. I too, have learned not to talk, especially if it's to tell our lovely captors that their dicks are small or that I had sexual relations with their mothers. These boys don't appreciate that, and you get corrected with kicks to the nuts for every offense. I am afraid I'll be suffering the consequences for that when I least expect.
Anyways, the guy, who looks to be around my age, is in rougher shape than I am, completely bruised and swollen, a look of sheer defeat on his face. He is used as a punching bag in the mornings. At least my trauma is contained to a singular region. The mother, a chubby middle-aged lady, has some dried up blood on her face and clothes, an equally empty look in her eyes. She is so pale that if I didn't know any better I'd think her a corpse. Maybe that'd be kinder. The thugs prefer tormenting her through her daughter. Oh boy, that girl has it particularly bad. You see, she's very pretty, which would normally be a good thing. However, that blessing becomes a curse when you consider she's being held captive by a bunch of horny miscreants who've clearly been on the road with nothing but men for company for a bit too long. I wish I could delete my consciousness whenever they get in a gang-raping kinda mood, which so far has been every single day after they set-up camp. I earned my first beating after cursing them out for that. I've also earned a front row seat to the show every single day, since they figured out I get too emotional to simply shut up. Yes, that's a character flaw I might need to work on, and one I didn't even know I had. Growth in every corner! Of course, I get a beating for mouthing off every single time. The silver-lining to this arrangement is that we've fallen into an (un)comfortable rhythm. I know what to expect. They know what to expect. It even feels like they're going softer on both of us, but it might just be me getting used to the insanity.

On a more positive note, the weather here is pretty good! Not too warm, not too cold. Just right for a naked white man. Landscape's pretty too, just a shame it seems to be almost exclusively inhabited by savage demons from hell and some masked monkey monster things. Oh yeah, those. Apparently they're called hilichurls, and they vary from child-sized rock throwing monkeys to 8 foot tall wrecking balls of death and destruction. These bandits are numerous enough to fight or scare them off, and some even have a few bullshit magical supermoves they use in a pinch. It'd be cool if they were champions of justice instead of a gaggle of rapists. Just my 2 cents.
Thankfully (or not, depending on your perspective), our journey is coming to an end. From what I managed to piece together from the more chatty bandits, we're being sold off to some foreign big-wigs and we're fast approaching the meeting point. I have a sneaking suspicion that whatever awaits us with the buyers is even worse than this.
I dozed off at some point, but it seems we have reached our destination. An abandoned village, from the looks of it. The camp has been set, and the bandits are pacing around the place, checking every abandoned house and the surrounding area. They're very anxious about something. I enjoy seeing them like this. Fuck'em. A good half hour passes and the Boss man grunts and pipes up. "I don't like this. Not one bit." he says. "Boys, pack up, gather the goods. We're getting the fuck out of this dump." A chorus of "Aye sir!" follows. Hmm. This business meeting got called off. Shame!

Just as that happened, as if this whole scene had been meticulously practiced, a horn sounds off and all hell breaks loose.

"A-AMBUSH!", "Millelith, run! Run!", "You fucking dogs! AAAAH!" and a multitude of other yells and insults mix in with the sounds of a surprise battle. If I were in some story, I'd probably try to escape now that everyone is distracted fighting for their lives but unfortunately I'm far too weak for such shenanigans. So I'll just watch the bloody battle, enjoy the screams of the tormentors and pray that these new arrivals aren't here to fuck me over even harder... Nevermind, there wasn't much enjoying to do, much to my dismay. The battle turned out to be a fairly short and disappointing affair. Disorganized bandits caught unaware versus an organized ambush by what I assume are professional soldiers, with fancy yellow armor and nice looking spears. Most of the thugs were killed in battle, while the few that surrendered were simply executed on the spot after being rounded up. Some managed to run away, unfortunately. I'm pretty sure Wei, Lord of Shortness, managed to sneak away. Fucking asshole, he was one of the worst ones with the girl.

"Sir, the prisoners are secured. Some bandits are missing. Orders?" says one of the soldiers, a pained expression on his face as he looks at us.

"Get them to the healer's wagon, see to it that they last the journey home." An important looking soldier, the only man not wearing yellow, comes closer and immediately scrunches up his nose. "Rex Lapis preserve us. They're filthy! Make sure they're washed before heading to the main camp. As for the fleeing rats, don't worry. I'm sure the supporting units will catch them along the way."
A bunch of the soldiers laugh it up and move to free us. They gently remove the women from their confinement and carry them away, and ask me and the other guy if we can walk by ourselves. We both nod, and I am thrown some rough looking clothes right to the face, to cover up a bit I guess. They're a bit tight (actually, scratch that, they're incredibly tight), but that's to be expected since I'm taller than anyone I've seen so far. I walk with a limp, my balls aching from the torture. I hope I haven't been rendered infertile or something. The other dude is clearly a fucking liar, since he collapsed as soon as he got out of the cage. It'd be funny if I didn't know what he went through.

The four of us are now being tended to by the doctors. It seems these soldiers came on a mission specifically prepared to handle something like this. The medicine men assured us we'll make it out in one piece. As they're tending to us, the smell of burning flesh fills up my nostrils, making me gag a little. That's... definitely human. A plume of smoke rises over the hills. They've probably carried the corpses off somewhere and are burning them down. Brutal.
I can't help but notice the young woman's face flash a quick smile as she feels the vile scent. It's the first expression I've seen her make outside of some pained panting. Yes, she's really pretty...

I feel my vision blurring.


It's been God knows how long since we got rescued. I lost track of time. Whatever it is that these healers got us drinking during every meal must be some kind of miracle medicine, since I'm recovering my strength pretty quickly. The Zhang family—that's what some soldiers call them—are not faring as well as me, still needing constant medical attention. They've got a rough journey ahead of them, I'm sure. I basically got kicked out of the healer's wagon as soon as I could walk straight, and am now marching along with the soldiers, who are both curious and suspicious of the decidedly foreign looking man with weird tattoos all over his arms and back.

One of them—a guy named Lu Bu, a name utterly unfitting for him—is particularly annoying. I guess I can consider him the first friend I've made in this hellhole. Dude's young, just 17. He and some of the other young soldiers keep pestering me with the dumbest shit you can think of. Last night they started fighting each other after trying to piece together which country I'm from. Apparently I look like a Fontainian and have the name of a woman of that country. I'm built like a Sne… Shne? Whatever, some Russian sounding place's native. And I also have the "air of a Mondstadt bard", apparently, which sounds like an insult the more I think about it.
Naturally I had to engage in some slight obfuscation of the truth during this trip. I'm not about to say "actually, I'm from the U-S-fucking-A, the greatest country in the whole fucking free world, motherfuckers!" to a bunch of dudes from bootleg-China. So I decided to role-play as a lost amnesiac, with my only memories being of my name, age and the circumstances of my capture—I woke up naked in the middle of nowhere and got captured. And really, that's the whole truth of this situation!
My supposed amnesia also allows me to ask dumb as fuck questions and learn about this world, Teyvat, as the natives call it. I'm currently in "Leeway", "Leeweh", "Liyue"... however the fuck you say it, the richest nation of them all—which I figure is some nationalist bullshit parroted by the soldiers. It's the nation of The Rock, aka, Rex Lapis. It borders Mondstadt, Fontaine and Sumeru—HITTITE JUMPSCARE!. Apparently Sumeru is known for their massive academy and the worship of the God of Knowledge. One of the guys claims he's been there with his wife and they smoked some of that hard-hitting zaza and saw some funny mushroom people. I wanna go there, it sounds like my kind of place. And oh yes, the Gods are very much real and mostly alive. It seems like Liyue's own God croaked three years ago. Very cool to know they' aren't immortal, omniscient scum-bags with infinite powers of damnation. Are they even Gods, or just really strong people then? Food for thought…

Speaking of the Gods: some people, like Lu Bu, have Visions, divine blessings that come in 7 distinct flavors: stone, fire, wet stuff, taser, plant, wind and ice. For Lu Bu, he's got some Pyro powers, which earned him a slap to the face and three days of punishment after nearly setting a tent ablaze while "demonstrating" his abilities, one of which being a party trick he calls the flamethrower. It's... well, he rips one out and sets it ablaze, somehow. It does the same as the old lighter trick. As for the bandits, they were members of a fucked up organization called Treasure Hoarders. If I ever get overpowered God powers, I'll personally go out and kill every single member and their families. So you better pray I don't.

We stop and set up camp for the night. A group of soldiers go out to hunt tonight's meal and the medics more or less drag the other three captives outside to get some air. By the looks of it, the Zhang's son is bound to get kicked off the healer's wagon any day now. The women are likely riding in the wagons more out of courtesy than need.

Lu Bu and his chucklefuck clique, the newbie Millelith, approach me, grinning ear to ear. Tsk. It's probably something stupid again.

"Mister K-" no, no, NO. I've told him at least 10 times already.

"Drop the 'Mister', please. You make me feel old." sigh, kid doesn't learn, does he?

"Right, right, sorry 'bout that, hehehe. So, me 'n the boys're wonderin' if yer any good in a fight?"

What? "No, and I'm not fighting any of you." They look rather disappointed. Of course I'm not a fighter, I wouldn't have been captured in the first place if I were, you idiots.

"Ahh, of course, of course." He scratches the back of his head and laughs a bit awkwardly. "Just wonderin'!"

Another of the boys then asks me, "You hold down your drink then?" and pulls out a bottle with a clear liquid in it.

I begin chuckling, eyeing the bottle. "Sure do my friend, sure do." I point to it. "What's in there?"

"Just water." Oh, I'm sure. I can smell it from here. "Come with us."

We move to a secluded corner of the camp, close to the horses and out of sight of the leader. They sit down and produce some rough clay cups, shot-sized. Lu Bu slaps the dirt next to him, urging me to sit there. I'm handed a cup of my own, and gulp it down. God it burns so good. I'm gonna like the taverns in this place, I can tell. I lift my cup and ask for a refill, eliciting some cheers.

"Look at him! I tell ya, he's from Mondstadt, born and bred. Didn't even flinch!"

"Aww shut the fuck up Bai, I've seen them Fatui folk drink and they're just as bad! He's one of'em. We should sell him to the Qixing."

That little fuck Lu Bu got whacked in the head with a stick for the Qixing comment.

We goof around for a while and are joined by some older soldiers. I've since learned we're close to the Harbor and bandits and Hilichurls are scarce around these heavily patrolled areas so the officer is getting lax with enforcing discipline among the soldiers. We've got two more days of travel before we make it to the city. Good, I need a rest and a proper bath, which I've been assured is waiting for me. The men, now slightly drunk, begin telling stories of their lives and battles. Apparently Lu Bu is getting married—to his cousin—once he returns. Good for him, I guess? I fear for his children.

The jovial night turns bittersweet for me, with the soldier's banter reminding me of my friends' own. I don't know if I can make it back to my own world. I will assume I can't until proven wrong, I'm not exactly an optimist, especially after all this. I decide to part ways with the improvised party before I break down in tears in front of everyone. I've got an image to maintain, or so I've been telling myself ever since my home fell apart. The alcohol is beginning to do its work. I need some sleep.

I find the Zhang son waiting for me near the central part of camp, close to the fireplace.

"Zhang Ren. Zhang's the family name." He introduces himself.

"Kelly Summers. Pleasure." I throw my hand out to see if I can get an handshake. Do they do those here?

"I'm sure." They do know handshakes. Weak grip, low confidence. Fair. "I've heard of your situation, with the memory and all. I'll need some help with my shop once we get to the Harbor. They're…" his voice grows shaky as he looks to the fireplace, his mother and sister looking back at us "…t-they're… I…"

I pat him on the shoulder as he begins crying.


It's been a long while—two or three months, I think—since I arrived in town. I haven't exactly been keeping track of time. Hell, I'm probably 26 by now! I've been more or less shown the lay of the land by city officials and Zhang Ren. Jesus fucking Christ, they weren't kidding when they said the city was big. It definitely dwarfs Charleston's population, despite being way smaller in size. A veritable metropolis, with all the chaos that comes with it. It's also not nearly as medieval as I expected. They have cameras and plumbing. Modern plumbing. The bathrooms are… exceedingly normal. I was expecting those, you know… squat toilets. I don't fucking know what they're called. But no, ceramic thrones for everyone!

They got me a work permit and registered my name in the books, provided me with clothes that actually fit and offered me work in the docks or in the mines, which I thankfully didn't need to accept. I've also learned I had a temporary debuff on my Math degree having ass that brought me down to the level of an illiterate peasant, much like the majority of the population. Overcoming that was my first big challenge in this new life of mine.

I've been working for Ren and his family ever since they re-opened their business. They own a small smithy that mostly works on day-to-day items and tools. Not many weapons or armor here, though they do have some for sale. I made it clear I knew absolutely nothing about smithing but that presented no problem since my task was to simply be the clerk while Ren and his mother work in the back. It doesn't pay much, but I like these people. They're helping me and I want to believe I'm helping them. They can't pay me much but it's enough for a room of my own and two meals a day, which is more than some folk have. This used to be his little sister's (Lin, as I've learned she's called) job but she's… pregnant. Ren and Miss Zhi (their mom) insist she doesn't work. Her days are mostly spent lounging around next to me. I often try and strike up some conversation with her. I've seen her laugh and smile more often lately, which is good. She's even prettier now that she isn't… never mind.

As the only one of the family that got any kind of education, Lin's been very helpful on my quest to becoming a learned man. She taught me how to write my name (well, not really, it came out as Keli Samers now that I know how to read) and some words like "Hello" or "Goodbye". She also showed me the numbers from 0 to 100 and the basic sum and subtraction operations, all she really knows of math. Thankfully they seem to work the same way over here. I quickly realized that the language used is just plain old English, but with a different, fucked up script. This was an immense discovery. I pooled up all my money and bought myself some paper and pencils and work on writing whenever I can, be it on my off days or when business is slow, which is becoming rarer and rarer. I also keep some sheets where I just… dumped all I could remember. About math, programming, physics, music, whatever. I'm working on translating those to the local script, which might be a really fucking dumb and dangerous idea but I'm bored and it serves as good practice. It's also a way to kill some of the longing I feel for home. I'd love to buy some books and instruments—I've seen guitars, regular ass acoustic guitars, I shit you not for sale here-but they're outside of my budget.

This is my first taste of life in the working class, and I suddenly find my former lifestyle to be somewhat disgusting. I never had to count my pennies, and I got everything I wanted just like that. Expensive Jackson signature guitar? Check. Fancy computer? Got it, best parts in the market. A Challenger Hellcat? Sure, don't even need credit! Just have the old man pay for it. Fuck, I was too scared to even drive that piece of shit so I kept using my beat-up Corolla on the daily. Sigh… Anyways, when I questioned Lin over their illiteracy getting in the way of business, she reassured me it's not a problem. Apparently, the Ministry has people dedicated to keeping up with the businesses' expenses and profits. They come around every month to collect tax and give some advice or precautions. Corruption is punishable… severely. How nice of the local IRS. Yes, Liyue is more or less a dictatorship. An odd one, that kinda works. Kinda.

All that preamble leads me—or us, I guess—to today. Why am I thinking and talking like I'm narrating something? Weird…

I found myself with some extra cash to spend since last week was particularly good for business and Lin insisted Ren give me a little bit more to "celebrate". So I did the smart thing and decided to splurge and eat fancy for the first time ever in this world. Lin was, unfortunately, forbidden from coming with me by Miss Zhi. No, she doesn't trust me in the slightest. I wouldn't either, smart woman. At the recommendation of… basically everyone I ever talked to, I decided to come to this small restaurant, Wanmin. It is said to be the best in the entire city, despite being so small and cheap. Obviously it's always packed, but I got lucky and managed to get myself a seat outside. I take out my papers and begin to work on my translations while waiting for a waitress to come deliver the menu. The weather's nice as always and I always enjoyed working in this kind of environmen. Today's topic is… calculus. It's "boring" math, very mechanical at first, but slowly opens up into some richer, meatier theory. I can understand why some people are driven to the limit by the subject during high-school, since the first contact most people have with this is entirely made up of repetitive, uninteresting tasks. I'm sorry, that joke was a bit derivative. I'll do better next time. Still, ask a teenager to prove the existence of a limit in a point - with the formal definition - and you'll see how interested they are in it (hint: not at all). It's not a matter of being hard, it's a matter of feeling like pointless busywork. That is to say, calculus is often annoying as fuck. It's also severely annoying the fuck out of me, more so than usual, because I… well, I don't know how to translate it. The symbols. I don't know if they use the same things here, or if math is even on the same level. Maybe they use a dick to represent an integral? Who knows? Certainly not me. So I'm keeping the notation the same while using these fucked up glyphs they call numbers.

"Your order?" comes a monotone woman's voice, interrupting my thoughts. Looks like the service industry is shit everywhhhhhhhh-h-holy shit! God damn. Ok, here's something I need to mention about Liyue, possibly, hopefully, Teyvat. It's not just Lin. You take any 10 adult women in this city and chances are 8 of them are absolute bombshells. What in the FUCK is going on in this gene pool, and when can I dive into it?

Let my words be your eyes my friends, for this lady is worth looking at. Long braided white hair, growing darker on the tips. Dainty little nose and rosy lips, eyes that look like a fucked up cocktail of gray, blue and green, all locked in a stony, no non-sense expression. Ah, I'm sure the eyes' description confused you a bit. Plenty of people here have something weird going on with their eyes and hair, it looks like the god damned cosplay area at a convention sometimes. Is it the magic? It's probably the magic. Hell, Lin and her family have got these mesmerizing purple orbs. Especially Ren! Dude's been blessed. Fuck, I'm getting carried away, return to the female form. Pale skin. Smooth. She gives off a gentle, doll like impression, a pleasant contrast to her figure which is… voluptuous to say the least, quite meaty where it matters. I'll let you imagine the particulars because I don't want to be too rude or explicit in my assessments. I'm a red-blooded hetero male, sure, but I'm not a pig, and I refuse to let my mind defile this poor woman for your satisfaction. She's wearing an apron over some simple work clothes that are struggling to contain her. Girl, get something a size bigger, please!

"Ah, I'll have today's special." I don't have a clue what it is, I forgot to look at the menu. Actually, I don't have a menu. Wasn't she supposed to give me one or something? Negative points for service!

"Drinks?"

"One mug of beer, please."

"Very well", the waitress nods and walks off. I fight the devil inside me, trying to get me to stare at her ass for any longer than I have to. A quick, respectful glance is enough for any discerning gentleman. Words of wisdom from my father... oh, a Vision. Ice? Once my brain snapshots the relevant information for later use I return to my work only to be interrupted by a voice that can only be described as pure sex.

"Forgive me, but I couldn't help but… notice your work. Oh, forgive me, where are my manners. Zhongli's the name."

I smell trouble.