Of course, beyond these accidental or intentional antics, White Stocking Lover has produced plenty of timely content. For starters, he's the first player so far to establish communication with an NPC—and even managed to obtain a weapon from one, successfully killing a hyena. Other players are still either fleeing for their lives or struggling to survive.
Combined with his passion for trolling and the novelty of being the first to post gameplay footage, even those who assume this is just a scripted skit can't help but enjoy watching. At least the visuals are top-notch—Starcrest Outpost clearly isn't some low-budget film set.
"That's all for this first video. I've hit my respawn limit. Next, I'll focus on collaborating with the lord for gear and exploration. Any players spawning nearby can join me—just drop my name. NPCs should accept it. Judging by this lord's reactions, he's the only NPC I've found willing to engage with players. There's gotta be a questline here."
He wraps up with advice for newcomers:
"First, think carefully about your character's appearance. If not for accidentally befriending an NPC, I'd delete and re-roll. Who knew looks mattered in-game too? Second, this game's hyper-realistic. Set combat feedback below 10; you can raise it outside battles. But don't go under 5—no tactile feedback feels floaty and dreamlike, which is jarring. And if you leave it at default 100 like I did… [winces] Grabbing hot coals? Never again. Super off-putting. Blood-averse folks can also disable gore—severed heads turn into cabbages."
Comments:
[100% realism? I've got a bold idea: make my roommate play a female character.]
[You can't even remove underwear. Bold, but pointless.]
"Third, you've probably noticed the system's minimal presence—just level-ups and stat allocation. Martial artists or melee weapon users will have an edge. If I didn't wake up in my own bed, I'd swear I'd isekai'd. But it's still beta; more features might come later."
"Fourth piece of advice: Don't attack NPCs recklessly. They're highly intelligent—unless you fancy waiting out respawn cooldowns."
Pointless aggression nets zero rewards. No one wants to waste time staring at a resurrection timer.
"Alright, that's all for this episode. I'm White Stockings—catch you next time, folks."
The video sparked lively discussions, though limited by the small beta tester pool and early upload time. View counts barely cracked 10,000.
Kuma returned post-breakfast, leisurely washed up, and checked his stats—heart pounding with excitement.
Unexpectedly, his content had gained traction. Even "Long Live Understanding", the forum poster who'd previously begged for help, reached out. After watching the video, they realized they'd respawned on a hill near Starcrest Outpost, surrounded by scavengers. Three deaths in. Desperate for backup to avoid a corrupted save file—likely that same unlucky soul from the forums.
No rescue meant a forced character deletion. The cooldown was unavoidable; even deleting required logging in first.
Kuma agreed tentatively. A monster spawn point meant XP, after all.
But armed with nothing—not even fit to fight the "Dog King"—how could he take on scavengers?
He adjusted his helmet, lay back, and dove into that wondrous world once more.
...
The roasted wolf meat tasted underwhelming, especially with scarce salt and no spices to mask its gaminess.
The meat resembled dog meat but was far less palatable—tough and stringy.
Yet no one complained. In fact, they felt fortunate to have meat during the harsh winter. The ten men ate with relish.
After dinner, Old Pete butchered the remaining wolf meat and hung it under the eaves. The biting wind served as the perfect preservative—living souls would freeze solid overnight under those conditions, let alone meat spoiling.
The next morning, Lind idly browsed the forums and stumbled upon the video titled "White Stockings Teaches You to Save the Magical World."
Turns out the guy was a content creator too? An unofficial PR channel, then. Definitely worth cultivating.
Wrapped in his overcoat, Lind entered the storeroom.
Soldiers Reid and Rive followed, having already organized weapons and armor in one corner. Their task now was to tackle the other pile dominating most of the space.
"My lord, we've also found a crate of Lander gold coins here."
Dust billowed up, making Lind wave a hand impatiently before his face.
"Bring it out for counting."
"Yes, sir."
The soldiers didn't understand Lind's sudden interest in coinage but obeyed without question.
With the Shattering of the Magic Rings and the collapse of order, gold—once the backbone of trade—had lost its function. Only its craftsmanship preserved some value as a rarity. Silver and copper coins littered the ground untouched; no one bothered to stoop for them.
Society had regressed to barter.
A few encampments enforced their own rules, ensuring every transaction tilted in their favor.
Take Prey Town near Starcrest Outpost, for example. This large settlement enforces transactions exclusively with "Gold Seal Notes"—paper currency stamped by a relic stamp said to retain traces of magical power. The印记 imbues the notes with unnatural durability and unique anti-counterfeiting properties.
Lind happened to have a few Gold Seal Notes himself, obtained from selling hyena pelts during his last hunt.
"Gold coins can function as currency... but final interpretation rests with me."
To motivate players to work for him, he'd need rewards they actually valued. The coins themselves were worthless—not even made of real gold, and even genuine gold required collective belief to hold worth.
Their true value lay in what players could exchange them for through Lind.
Using Lander coins had advantages: their limited minting across the kingdom, intricate craftsmanship rumored to harness the power of sky-soaring legends, and near-impossible replication.
While the soldiers cleaned the coins, Lind whittled palm-sized wooden tokens numbered with a knife.
He spent hours directing them to sort weapons and armor by quality, then hung them on racks like a night-market clothing stall—each tagged with a price.
For Old Pete, the cook, he crafted additional tokens, and erected a sign at the entrance: "Interim Corpse Recycling."
A no-frills "shop" and "recycling station", handcrafted and ready.
"All set. Now we wait for players to log in."