"Buzz—"
My head felt like it had been run over by a pair of Hextech Gauntlets, and the feedback loop in my skull was screaming louder than a CH-2 Electron Storm Grenade in a tin can.
"Hiss—"
I gritted my teeth, sucking in a breath that tasted like burnt copper and regret. I clutched my temples, trying to piece together the last few minutes of my life.
Hextech Gauntlets? Electron Storm Grenades?
Right. I was in a ranked ga. Silver tier—the "cancer tier" where logic goes to die. I was playing Jinx, because who doesn't love a little manic property damage? I was laning against a Heirdinger/Jayce duo—a classic Silver special that only works if your team is actively trying to throw.
I was holding my own until the mini-map went dark. Suddenly, a wild Warwick appears! He TPs into the bush behind , pops his W-E combo like a caffeinated wolf on a mission, and launches an Infinite Duress right at my face.
I was ready, though. I Flashed toward the river, dodging the fluff, only for a pair of massive Hextech Gauntlets to lunge out of the fog. It was a textbook Vi combo: Vault Breaker into a Relentless Force, topped off with a Sky-Shattering Blow that turned Jinx's hitbox into a pancake.
I popped Heal, lived with a sliver of health, and used the movent speed to kite back. I dropped Fla Chompers right under Vi's feet. Rooted. I had Red Buff. I was fed. It was the ultimate "sisters-killing-sisters" mont. I was about to turn the tables and collect a massive bounty.
Then, the Mid-lane special happened.
Viktor slid out of nowhere like a tallic creep, dropping a Gravity Field under my boots. Heirdinger Flashed in just to land a stun with his grenade, and Jayce—typical Jayce—fired an EQ Shock Blast from three screens away just to secure the kill.
"SHUTDOWN!"
Seven and zero. One kill away from Godlike. I lost it. I slamd the desk with the fury of a thousand tilted players.
"Five-man gank?! Are you kidding ?! Where is my team? Are they roleplaying as minions?!"
That slam was my undoing. My water cup tipped over, sending a tidal wave straight into the power strip. A surge of electricity hit my brain, and the last thing I saw wasn't a victory screen—it was a shimring light, like an operating room ceiling.
Well, I guess I didn't make the save. ---
Welco to the Bottom of the World
My senses ca back online one by one. First, the sll—a thick, nauseating cocktail of sulfur, industrial waste, and chemical runoff that scorched the back of my throat.
I snapped my eyes open.
Everything was draped in a toxic grey haze. There was no sun here, just the sickly glow of alchemical lights reflecting off cracked glass and polished steel. Steam hissed from every pipe, and the buildings were held together by bolts, rivets, and prayers. It was a masterpiece of "if it hasn't exploded yet, it's fine" architecture.
I looked up and saw a rusted tal plaque swaying precariously above the street:
"WELCO TO ZAUN."
I didn't need a translator. I knew exactly where I was. I took a shaky step back, swallowing the bile in my throat.
"Zaun? You've got to be kidding . I'm actually in Zaun?"
The irony was physically painful. Back on Earth, I called myself a Zaunite because I was toxic in chat and "unbeatable" in lane. Now, the universe had called my bluff.
I scrambled up from the damp ground and caught my reflection in a puddle of iridescent green sludge. A sharp, dark-haired kid stared back.
"I'm... ten? I'm ten years younger," I muttered, rubbing my face. "Well, at least I'm still handso. Small favors."
Suddenly, a migraine spiked through my skull. My vision blurred, and a familiar, crisp female voice echoed in the back of my mind—the voice from the League tutorial.
"League of Legends System: Installing..."
"1%... 2%..."
The pain was too much. I blacked out before I could even reach the loading screen.
The Stats from Hell
When I finally woke up, a holographic interface was hovering in my peripheral vision. It looked exactly like the League client, but stripped down. No "Play" button, no skins for sale, no Battle Pass to grind. Just two icons: Attributes and Quests.
I clicked Attributes.
Na: Chen
Title: None
Attack Damage: 40
Ability Power: 0
Attack Speed: 0.4
Armor: 19
Magic Resist: 19
Health: 450
Mana: 0
Movent Speed: 320
I nearly choked. "19 Armor? Are you serious? I'm basically Kassadin!"
I wanted to find the developer and throw a brick at them. No magic, no mana, and 19 resistances? I was a walking glass cannon without the "cannon" part. Even Yuumi—a literal housecat—has more base Magic Resist than .
My movent speed was 320. Tristana walks faster than , and she has tiny yordle legs! My health was 450. I wasn't just squishy; I was a stiff breeze away from a grey screen.
"Deep breaths, Chen. Don't tilt. Work the problem."
I swapped over to the Quests tab. A notification pinged imdiately.
Main Quest Accepted: The Twin Cities War (Chapter One)
"When did I accept this?" I grumbled, but I opened it anyway.
Objective: Find Jinx.
Reward: 1 Talent Point.
I looked out at the smog-choked horizon of The Lanes. Finding a blue-haired engine of chaos in a city of millions while having the durability of a wet paper towel?
"Easy," I lied to myself. "Totally easy."
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