Chapter 1: System Shock and a Portal's Surprise
The last thing Adam Stiels remembered was the searing, utterly unglamorous pain of a rogue toaster oven. Not a heroic sacrifice, not a dramatic last stand against a supervillain, just a faulty appliance and a burst of electrical current that felt less like a grand finale and more like a cosmic prank. "Figures," he'd thought, a fleeting, self-depdeprecating smirk his final contribution to the universe. "Died by a kitchen appliance. My life was truly a masterpiece of mundane tragedy."
Then came the quiet. Not the peace of the grave, but the unsettling silence of a soundproofed room. He blinked, a jolt of something akin to confusion, then annoyance, shooting through him. He was supposed to be… well, not here. Wherever 'here' was. It looked suspiciously like a ridiculously oversized bedroom, all dark wood and plush fabrics, with windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, revealing a manicured lawn that seemed to go on for miles. And the bed? It was less a bed and more a small, very comfortable island.
"Okay, universe," Adam muttered, pushing himself up. His voice, thankfully, was still his own – a little rough around the edges, perfect for delivering scathing one-liners. "You've got my attention. Is this the afterlife? Because if it is, you really splurged on the thread count. And where's the welcome committee? No pearly gates? No fiery pits? Just… interior decorating?"
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. That's when he noticed it. His body. It was his body, same old Adam, same slightly-too-long limbs, same perpetually sarcastic expression probably etched into his face even in repose. But it felt… different. Lighter, somehow. More coiled. He clenched a fist, and the muscles bunched with an unfamiliar, almost alarming efficiency. He felt like he could punch through a wall and barely feel it. Which, naturally, meant he had to try.
He found a secluded corner of the room, near a particularly sturdy-looking oak desk. He wound up, a grin spreading across his face. "For Narnia!" he yelled, and slammed his fist into the polished wood.
The desk groaned. A deep, satisfying crack echoed through the room. A small, almost imperceptible dent formed in the solid oak. Adam, however, felt nothing but a faint tingle. He stared at his hand, then at the desk, then back at his hand.
"Well, I'll be damned," he whispered, a genuine note of awe creeping into his voice. "I'm a… a super-person? Is this the MCU? Did I get bitten by a radioactive sarcasm spider? Or am I just really, really strong now?"
Just as the existential questions began to pile up like dirty laundry, a shimmering, translucent blue screen flickered into existence directly in front of his face. It pulsed with a soft, ethereal glow, displaying crisp, white text.
[ Welcome, Witcher. Your journey begins. ]
Adam blinked. Then he blinked again. He poked the screen. His finger passed right through it. "Okay, so it's a mental interface. Nice. Very Minority Report. What's with the Witcher bit? Did I miss a memo? Last I checked, I was more of a 'guy who watches Netflix' than a 'monster hunter with a cool sword.'"
He scrolled through the interface mentally, a quick, intuitive process. There were several tabs: Library, Leveling, Inventory, Alchemy Lab, Store. His eyes immediately darted to Leveling.
[ Current Level: 0. Kills to Level 1: 1 (or 2 human equivalents). ]
"Oh, for the love of… it's a video game," Adam groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I died, and now I'm in an Isekai. And not even a cool one where I get a harem of elf princesses. I'm a Witcher. In… Portland? Seriously? The city of artisanal coffee and existential dread? Not exactly the Continent, is it?" He sighed dramatically. "Well, at least I'm not a goblin in a dungeon. Small mercies."
He clicked (mentally, of course) on the Store tab. It was empty, save for a few greyed-out slots. But one item glowed faintly, available for purchase.
[ New Item Available in Store: Acid of Dissolution. Description: Applies to organic matter for rapid disintegration. Price: [System Coin Value]. ]
Adam's eyes widened, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. "Acid of Dissolution? Oh, you beautiful, beautiful system. You get me. This is going to be so much easier than burying bodies. Or explaining them. 'Officer, he just… disintegrated. Honest!'"
He spent the next few days in a blur of frantic experimentation. The mansion, it turned out, was truly his. No family, no awkward relatives. Just a seemingly endless supply of money and a very understanding (or perhaps just very oblivious) staff who seemed to materialize and dematerialize at will, leaving him alone with his newfound superpowers. He tested his agility, leaping over furniture with impossible grace, landing silently. His senses were sharper; he could hear the faint scuttling of mice behind the walls, smell the faint scent of rain before it even hit the ground outside. He even tried letting a particularly thick tree branch snap against his arm, just to confirm his durability. It stung, but the skin barely broke, and the faint red mark healed before his eyes.
"Huh," he muttered, flexing his arm. "Stronger than it looks. Or I am. Guess guns wouldn't be a huge problem. Just quick-healing flesh wounds. This is going to make avoiding paperwork so much easier."
He was in the sprawling backyard, contemplating the sheer audacity of a universe that would drop him into a monster-hunting RPG without a proper tutorial, when it happened. The air shimmered, not like heat haze, but like fractured light. A tear, a gaping wound in reality, began to open near the ancient oak tree at the edge of his property. It pulsed with an unstable, shimmering blue, crackling with an energy that felt both alien and strangely familiar.
Adam froze, his sarcastic commentary dying on his lips. This wasn't a System message. This was… new. And terrifying. And utterly, gloriously cool.
From the swirling vortex, a figure stumbled out. She was dressed in dark leather, silver hair cascading around a face that was both fierce and utterly disoriented. She clutched a sword, its silver blade glinting in the afternoon sun. She looked around, her eyes wide, searching, then landed on Adam.
"A Witcher?" she gasped, her voice hoarse with exhaustion and confusion. "Finally! Where… where is this? How do I get back? My magic… it's gone!" She tried to raise a hand, a faint spark of energy flickering, then dying. She let out a frustrated growl and kicked the nearest tree. Her foot connected with a sickening thud, and she let out a yelp, hopping on one foot.
Adam stared, his brain buffering. Ciri. The Ciri. From The Witcher. This just kept getting weirder. And better. And significantly more dangerous.
"Whoa there, silver-haired warrior princess," Adam said, holding up his hands. "Easy on the trees, they didn't do anything. And 'Witcher' is a strong word. I just got the job. Still figuring out the benefits package. As for where this is, welcome to Portland, Oregon. Home of artisanal coffee, existential dread, and apparently, interdimensional portals that drop off very confused, very angry women." He paused, a smirk playing on his lips. "Want a latte before we fight? Or are we just going straight to the 'who are you and why are you in my backyard' part?"
Ciri narrowed her eyes, her sword still half-drawn. "Who are you, and why do you talk so much?" she demanded, her voice laced with suspicion. "And what is 'Portland'? Where is the Continent? Where is Geralt?"
"Look, Continent's probably still where you left it, just… not here," Adam explained, gesturing vaguely. "And Geralt's probably off somewhere brooding and fighting monsters. As for me, I'm Adam. And I'm pretty sure I'm the closest thing to a Witcher you're gonna find in this dimension. Also, your magic's gone because… well, this world's a bit of a magic desert. More like a magic dust bowl." He paused, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But hey, on the bright side, no annoying mages trying to recruit you, right? Just… me. And my incredibly comfortable mansion."
Ciri stared at him, her expression a mix of disbelief and utter exasperation. "You are… not what I expected."
"Honey, I'm not what anyone expected," Adam quipped. "But here we are. Two lost souls in a city that smells faintly of rain and desperation. So, what's the plan? Because I'm thinking, since you're a seasoned monster hunter and I'm… well, I'm a freshly minted one with a System that demands blood, we could team up. You know, vigilante style. Clean up the streets. Kill bad guys. Level up. It'll be like a co-op RPG, but with more sarcasm and significantly less paperwork." He paused, then added, almost to himself, "Which reminds me, I still need to buy that acid. Can't leave a mess."
Ciri looked from Adam to the shimmering, now fading, portal. Her shoulders slumped. Her magic was truly gone. She was truly stuck. She looked back at Adam, who was now muttering about "responsible adulting" and "body disposal." A grudging, almost imperceptible nod. "Fine," she said, her voice still wary. "But if you make one more joke about 'artisanal coffee,' I will use your head to test your 'durability.'"
Adam grinned. "Deal. Welcome to the team, Ciri. This is going to be an unexpected adventure."