Suspended in boundless darkness, Victor Wang felt something… peculiar.
He couldn't sense his body—yet some nonexistent eyes saw this darkness, and nonexistent ears heard the faint trickle of a stream.
He had no idea where this place was. He couldn't tell up from down, left from right, nor could he perceive the passage of time. It felt like an instant—or perhaps an eternity—before he awoke.
"A strange ceiling. No… it's the open sky."
Why am I here?
A Hilichurl ponders, and the throne chuckles.
His soul felt like it had been shoved into a blender and poured out in pieces.
Silently, he curled up on the ground, holding his head.
So, I died, huh.
The throbbing headache gradually subsided, but his body still throbbed faintly, as if remembering the pain of being burned alive.
Victor Wang raised a hand toward the sky. Noon sunlight bathed his skin—and was immediately swallowed.
Pitch black.
Though black, it wasn't from charring—just the natural tone of his skin.
He touched his head—his hair was back. Not a single "strong protagonist" haircut in sight.
"Why… am I still alive?"
Trekking across the Seven Nations, seeking the help of the Seven Archons, all just to return to being human… is it worth it?
Even if he became human again, he'd still be ordinary. His dreams and ambitions would still be out of reach. But compared to being a Hilichurl, he'd at least have a chance to earn a Vision.
If he was still alive, he'd try. If not… then maybe that was release. That had been Victor Wang's mindset.
Death was a path always available to every living being.
But now, fate was telling him: "You don't get to choose."
You have no choice.
He lay there, dazed, for half an hour before his stomach begged for food.
Getting up, he noticed his beast-hide apron was still intact.
"Was this… a time reversal?"
He looked around. This was the area where he'd previously gathered food. Looking toward where the Whopperflower had been, and back in the direction of camp, Victor Wang headed for the camp.
"Never again will I say Sweet Flower Chicken lacks sincerity. Every Sweet Flower in this world deserves respect—you never know the risk involved in picking one."
On the way, he passed three Cryo Slimes clustered around two Ice Mist Flowers now devoid of blossoms. Just as before, the slimes ignored him.
Further along, he saw the wheat and raspberries he'd picked earlier—all missing, proving that even if time had reversed, it hadn't gone back far.
Returning to camp, he spotted the two club-wielding Hilichurls among the crowd.
Something clicked. Ignoring the curious stares of the others, he went straight to the wooden crates where they had stored food—and found that the contents were different.
That confirmed it. This wasn't time reversal.
It was something else.
He recalled that Hilichurls couldn't reproduce—and were constantly being wiped out.
Even if countless ancient Hilichurls plus cursed Khaenri'ahns made up the population, they couldn't possibly outnumber how many had died.
In the game, respawning needed no explanation—it was just a mechanic. But here, in reality, there's no such thing as respawn.
Unless new Hilichurls are being brought into Teyvat somehow… But no—those two club-wielders had come back to life. That theory didn't hold.
Then… they're also under the curse of undying. That had to be the answer.
He didn't have some time-rewind cheat. Just the curse.
Thinking back to how they'd shown no fear of pain, and had even recognized the Whopperflower—maybe they were just used to dying…
At the very least, five hundred years of this. Who knew how many times the Hilichurls had died and come back? Maybe their dull minds were a blessing—they didn't know they were suffering.
Celestia is cruel. They turned us into this and won't even let us die. They know how to torment someone, alright.
He shared lunch at the camp—after dying together, who cared if he was freeloading?
Though the two club-wielders made no mention of their deaths, Victor Wang still caught two fish to offer them as thanks.
Then he left the camp and began climbing.
Midway, he passed the Temple of the Lion. A good sign—he was headed the right way.
Stone gates. Pale golden arch. A triangle made of three rhombuses in the center.
This was a domain—a puzzle domain, with no talent materials or artifacts. Victor Wang hesitated. In the game, you could leave by pressing Esc or clearing the stage. But now? No Exit button. No Hilichurl realm inside either.
He'd be stuck unless someone came in and he slipped out behind them.
But who built this domain? he wondered. He hadn't seen any treasure chests along the way, yet someone had constructed a domain.
Pushing the question aside, he scaled the gate and followed the cliff's edge for about twenty minutes, reaching a narrow peak.
Victor Wang looked up.
Nothing.
He searched his memory, then recited: "Place the squirrel on the back of the pointy-eared cat, and a pious puppy will open the doors to show you the way..."
A floating island shimmered into view in the sky above, and a strong updraft formed before him.
"Wuhu~!"
He raised a leg, ready to launch himself—half his foot had already left the cliff—then yelped and dropped back onto the grass.
This was his method of contacting Alice. No matter where she was, as long as he reached the tea party island and used the communication lamp, he could call her.
But he'd forgotten—he had no Wind Glider.
The updraft tempted him, but if he'd stepped off… he'd die. Again. And while he could come back, less pain was always better.
He had a full plan—including how to get airborne.
Legendary Adventurer Alice once used the explosive burst of a Wind Slime to launch into the sky for a stunt.
Victor Wang had a similar idea. But not via explosions—he wasn't suicidal. He needed a large Wind Slime, and he'd hold onto it to borrow its flight.
Those slimes could carry supply balloons. They could definitely carry one Hilichurl.
If he could just lift off, the wind current would do the rest.
The only hole in his plan? He had to find a large Wind Slime.
Fortunately, he'd discovered slimes don't attack Hilichurls. That increased his odds. Worst case, he'd drag one over from the Cecilia Garden ley line.
With a bit of hope, he shouted up toward the floating island, "Alice! Are you home?"
Down below, on Falcon Coast—
A chestnut-haired boy: "I think I heard something weird. Did you hear that?"
Chestnut-haired girl: "Yeah! It was like 'Ay-nis stay-home ah?' or something."
A nearby Knight of Favonius scratched his head. "Why did it sound like someone was shouting 'Alice'…?"
Back on the mountain, Victor Wang sighed. That was dumb. Better just go find a Wind Slime already.
By nightfall, he had encountered every element—Hydro, Pyro, Cryo, Electro, Dendro, Geo… but no Anemo.
Seriously?
He descended the mountain and returned to the camp. One blink later—it was morning again.
Jean, known for her search techniques, once said the key to finding something is to not look too hard. The moment you let go, you'll stumble upon it.
And sure enough—out of the corner of his eye…
In Dadaupa Gorge, three large Hilichurl tribes resided.
Victor Wang stood in awe at the sight of the massive Sword Cemetery in the valley. Overhead, ten slime balloons carried food, weapons, and elemental materials, flying from the north over Sword Cemetery Lake.
So that's where they all went?!
He followed the convoy into the Sleepy Tribe's territory. Eyes wide, he watched them working non-stop between the three camps—all morning long.
This is slave labor, he thought, while casually rifling through their crates for food.
Finally, some Hilichurls unloaded Wind Slimes from the balloons.
The slimes looked drained, but after a short rest, they recovered their energy.
How do you make the horse run without feeding it? Easy—make it an elemental lifeform.
When the Sleepy Tribe dozed off for their midday nap, Victor Wang crept toward a Wind Slime, grabbed its wing, and snuck off.
The slime blinked, utterly confused, but did not resist. Perhaps due to its basic intelligence—or some unknown reason.
"Can you fly me up?"
The Wind Slime blinked again.
Victor Wang let go, made a lifting gesture with both hands, and added sound effects: "Fwoooosh~"
The slime flapped its wings—rarely used—and floated up, then settled back down.
"Perfect."
He grabbed the slime by the wings again and returned to the base of the floating island—only to find the island and the updraft had vanished.
"???"
He recited: "Place the squirrel upon the cat with pointy ears; the faithful little dog will pull the ring."
With the chant, both the island and wind current reappeared.
Gripping the slime's wings tightly, Victor Wang signaled: "Fwoooosh~"
The slime lifted him off the ground.
"Yes, yes—just like that. Forward! No, float forward!"
The Wind Slime blinked… and gently set him down again.
"No, no, not that."
He tried again—this time throwing one arm forward in a push.
"Forward."
"Let's try once more."
As they lifted off again, Victor Wang gestured too forcefully. The slime lost balance and tilted sideways. The wing in Victor Wang's free hand drifted out of reach.
He immediately let go and dropped to the ground.
"This isn't working…"
He rubbed his chin in thought.
Is there a better way to control a slime?
Then—a voice behind him.
"What are you doing?"